Terra Safari

The capsule was named Mary. The tour guide, a wispy blonde woman in her early forties, told them it was named after the mother of an ancient Earth god called Jebus, who had ruled over the world, bringing peace and harmony to the otherwise lost and broken Terrans.

A lot about that explanation seemed wrong to Julia Sinclair. Having grown up on Mars in a family of academics, she was well aware of the ancient stories that had been told and retold for centuries, often adapted and warped over time. The capsule they sat in was shaped like a smooth, oblong pebble, dark green in colour, with long glass windows running all the way around the circumference to give the best views. It hovered a few feet off the rugged ground, the gentle hum of its anti-gravity engines filling the air with a low vibration that was oddly comforting. Outside, the once-grand Versailles Palace—the grounds of which had been converted into the Terra landing pad—lay in ruins, its crumbling stone walls partially consumed by wild vegetation. The skeletal remains of statues loomed like forgotten gods, their faces weathered and worn beyond recognition.

Her grandfather, Dr. Sinclair, was an expert on the ancient planet—its culture, its environment, its people and their ways of life. This was made all the more impressive by the fact he had never once visited Earth, despite it being over fifty years since the Martians had “discovered” the world their pre-Martian ancestors had abandoned centuries before. He had poured over ancient texts, studied countless holograms, and lectured on the collapse of Earth’s civilisations. Yet, despite all this knowledge, he had never set foot on the planet itself.

Dr. Sinclair, who sat as close to the front of the capsule as he could, raised his hand. “Excuse me, Miss Marsden…”

“Oh, please, call me Lara,” said the guide with a sickly sweet tour-guide voice.

“Of course, Lara. Could I ask, this capsule we’re traveling in, how much protection does it give us if we’re attacked by the Terrans? Could they breach it and get onboard?”

Lara’s smile became even more strained as she explained that Earthling attacks were incredibly rare. “In fact, none have been recorded in the last ten years, with most of the Terrans now far too scared to come anywhere near Martian explorers such as this group,” she added, her eyes flickering nervously toward the ruins outside as if expecting one of the so-called “savages” to appear.

Dr. Sinclair seemed to enjoy being called an explorer, but Mr. and Mrs. Chen, a wealthy, middle-aged couple on the trip of a lifetime, celebrating 30 years of marriage by blowing most of their net worth on an Earth Safari, looked visibly anxious, as if there were already barbarians smashing at the door.

Julia chose a seat at the back, behind the Chens. She loved her grandfather, but she couldn’t bear to be next to him for the entire safari if he was going to continue his sycophantic interactions with Lara. Two more seats in the capsule were occupied by a millionaire and his teenage son, the latter engrossed in a holographic game projected from his wristband. They were quiet, almost disinterested, as if the entire trip was little more than a novelty—a checkmark on a list of luxuries they could afford.

“Have you never read Ruins of an Empire or Earth’s Last Generation by Frida Dahl?” Julia asked, expecting Lara hadn’t read much beyond the orientation booklets she’d received when she started this job. “Dahl corrects the inconsistencies in some of those old tales. She uncovered texts in which the old god you mention was called Jesus and found evidence that the Terrans had become incredibly civilised and technologically advanced before the collapse.” Julia could see Lara getting uncomfortable. “There have been scientific studies, you know, that show the Terrans became too advanced, and the world became too hot after a revolution by artificial intelligence.”

Lara’s eyes narrowed slightly, though her smile remained fixed. “Dahl’s work has long been dismissed as pseudoscience and conspiracy theories,” she replied, her tone tightening. “Academics and historians like your grandfather are the people we should be listening to when it comes to Earth’s history.”

Julia made sure Lara saw her roll her eyes, but got no response other than a curt smile. The Chens exchanged a glance, the husband shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Dr. Sinclair, sensing the tension, made his way to the back of the capsule and sat beside Julia.

“You could try to be a bit less rude to the other folks on this bus,” he said quietly. “Your parents and I had to pull a lot of strings to get you on this trip. It’s once in a lifetime, you know? How many of your friends can say they’ve done this?”

“None of my friends would even want to come on this trip,” Julia replied, keeping her voice low but firm. “My generation wants to leave this world be. Why does the Mars Corporation insist on interfering?”

Dr. Sinclair sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It’s not about interference, Julia. It’s about understanding. We can learn from the past to prevent the same mistakes on Mars.”

Julia opened her mouth to retort, but the capsule suddenly shuddered as it began its journey across the devastated landscape, moving more quickly than the tourists had expected. The ruins of Versailles receded into the distance, replaced by the crumbling remains of what had once been the bustling suburbs of Paris. The greenery here was denser, more invasive, as if nature itself was reclaiming the land. The occasional building jutted out from the foliage, its windows dark and empty, like the hollow eyes of a skull.

Lara’s voice crackled through the intercom, interrupting the tension between Julia and her grandfather. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you look to your left, you’ll see the remnants of what was once one of Earth’s most luxurious shopping districts—the Chomps Ulysses. The humans of this era were known for their love of consumerism. The buildings you see now were once filled with shops that sold everything from clothing to technology—much of which would seem primitive by our standards today.”

As the tourists turned to observe the ruins, Julia frowned. The area was barely recognisable, overgrown with thick vines and brambles, with only the faintest outlines of storefronts still visible beneath the greenery. A shattered sign lay half-buried in the dirt, its letters faded and broken, but still legible: “Galleries Lafayette.”

“That’s not entirely accurate,” Julia muttered under her breath, though loud enough for Dr. Sinclair to hear. “It wasn’t just about consumerism—there were schools, museums, theatres…”

Her grandfather gave her a warning look, but Julia couldn’t help herself. The further the tour went on, the more frustrated Julia became with the narrative—one clearly designed to entertain and impress the tourists, rather than to educate.

The capsule continued to glide over the uneven terrain, approaching the remains of a large, open square. In the centre stood a rusted metal structure, twisted and bent almost beyond recognition. It took Julia a moment to realise what it was.

“Is that… the Eiffel Tower?” she whispered, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Lara’s voice came over the intercom once more, this time with a hint of pride. “Yes, indeed. The Eiffel Tower, once a symbol of human achievement and ingenuity, now serves as a stark reminder of the fragility of civilisation. This was where the people of Paris once gathered to celebrate their accomplishments. Now, it stands as a monument to their downfall.”

Julia stared at the ruins, her mind racing. The Tower looked nothing like the images she had seen in the ancient archives. It was shorter, more misshapen, as if parts of it had been scavenged or destroyed over the years. It didn’t stand as a proud relic of the past but rather a broken reminder of what had been lost.

“What happened to it?” Julia asked, her voice breaking the silence that had settled over the capsule. “Why does it look so… different?”

Lara hesitated for a moment, as if considering how to answer. “Time and the elements have taken their toll, of course. But there were also wars—conflicts that erupted as resources became scarce. It’s said that during one of these wars, the Terrans used the metal from the tower to build weapons and defences. By the time the wars ended, there wasn’t much left.”

“That’s not in any of the archives,” Julia said, narrowing her eyes at Lara. “There’s no record of the Tower being dismantled for parts. It was preserved, even during the worst of times.”

Lara’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a coldness in her eyes now. “There are many things not recorded in the archives, Julia.”

A tense silence fell over the capsule as it moved through the square, the tourists absorbing this new version of events. Dr. Sinclair seemed lost in thought, while the Chens exchanged uneasy glances. The millionaire’s son paused his game, finally taking an interest in the ruins outside.

“Why would they lie about it?” she wondered aloud, not really expecting an answer.

Her grandfather didn’t respond, but Julia noticed the way his hands tightened around the armrests of his seat. He looked out at the ruins with a kind of reverence, but also a sadness that she hadn’t seen in him before.

The capsule continued its silent journey through the decaying streets, the remnants of Paris sprawling around them like the bones of a once-great civilisation. The tourists were quieter now, their earlier excitement dimming as the reality of Earth’s ruin settled over them. The oppressive weight of history pressed down on Julia, her mind racing with questions that no one seemed willing to answer.

As they approached the banks of the Seine, now a sluggish, polluted river or sludge, Lara resumed her narration. Her voice had lost some of its earlier enthusiasm, but she continued with the same manufactured cheerfulness.

“Coming up ahead, you’ll see what remains of the Louvre, once the world’s most famous museum. It housed countless works of art, including the legendary Moaning Lisa. Unfortunately, much of its collection was lost during the Great Collapse. What you see now are just the bare bones of what was once a treasure trove of human culture.”

The capsule slowed as they neared the dilapidated structure. Broken shards of the shattered glass pyramid were lying across the ground like a field of fallen stars. The building itself was a hollow shell, its walls pockmarked with decay.

As they hovered closer, Julia’s gaze was drawn to a group of figures moving near the entrance to the Louvre. At first, she thought they were just shadows cast by the crumbling structure, but as the capsule got nearer, she realised with a start that they were people—Terrans.

“Look!” she exclaimed, pointing towards the group. “There are people over there!”

The tourists turned their heads, some gasping in surprise, others leaning closer to the windows to get a better look. The Terrans were dressed in ragged clothing, their faces obscured by hoods and masks. They moved with a cautious, deliberate grace, their eyes scanning the surroundings with a wariness that suggested they were well aware of the dangers in this desolate world.

Lara’s voice crackled over the intercom, sharper now, tinged with an edge of nervousness. “Please remain calm, everyone. As I mentioned earlier, Terran sightings are rare, but they are generally harmless. They’ve learned to avoid Martian tourists, knowing that we mean them no harm.”

Julia wasn’t convinced. There was something different about these Terrans, something in the way they moved, almost as if they were patrolling the area, guarding it. One of them turned toward the capsule, their eyes—just visible beneath the hood—locking onto Julia’s through the glass.

Then, just as quickly, the Earthling turned away, disappearing into the shadows within the Louvre. The others followed, melting into the ruins as if they had never been there at all.

“What were they doing?” Julia muttered to herself, but Dr. Sinclair overheard her.

“They seemed organised,” he said, his voice laced with curiosity. “Not like the Terrans described in the reports. Those ones were more… feral.”

Julia nodded, still staring at the spot where the Terrans had vanished. “They didn’t look feral to me. They looked like they knew exactly what they were doing.”

The capsule began to move again, leaving the Louvre behind, but Julia couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. The Terrans were not the primitive, broken people the tour had portrayed them to be. They were something more—something that wasn’t covered in Lara’s training booklets.

As the capsule floated along the riverbank, the sky above began to darken, thick clouds rolling in to blot out what little sunlight had filtered through the atmosphere. The air inside the capsule grew heavier, charged with a tension that none of the tourists could quite place.

Then, without warning, the capsule shuddered violently, throwing the passengers against their seats. The lights flickered, and a harsh alarm blared through the cabin.

“What’s happening?” Mr. Chen shouted, his voice rising in panic as he gripped his wife’s arm.

Lara’s voice came over the intercom, strained and hurried. “Please remain calm! We’re experiencing a slight technical malfunction. The capsule’s systems are compensating, and we should be back on course shortly.”

But the shuddering didn’t stop. It intensified, the capsule jolting violently as if something was tugging at it from outside. The glass windows vibrated with the force, and Julia’s heart raced as she peered outside, trying to see what was causing the disturbance.

That’s when she saw them again—the Terrans. They were surrounding the capsule, their hands pressed against its surface, their faces obscured by their hoods. But these weren’t just random Terrans scavenging for supplies. They were organised, methodical, and they had some kind of device—large, metallic, and pulsing with a strange blue light—attached to the capsule’s undercarriage.

“They’re sabotaging us!” Julia yelled, pointing to the device. “They’re trying to bring us down!”

Lara’s voice crackled through the intercom, this time filled with genuine fear. “Everyone, stay in your seats! The capsule is equipped with countermeasures—”

Before she could finish, there was a loud pop, followed by a high-pitched whine. The capsule lurched to one side, then another, as if caught in a violent storm. The tourists screamed, clutching their armrests as the capsule spun wildly, the landscape outside blurring into a chaotic whirl of green and grey.

With a bone-jarring crash, the capsule hit the ground, skidding across the rocky terrain before coming to a shuddering halt. The silence that followed was broken only by the ragged breathing of the terrified tourists. Julia was seized by panic, but beneath the terror, there was a strange, cold clarity. This was no accident. The Terrans had planned this.

Julia was the first to move, her hands shaking as she fumbled with her seatbelt. The capsule was dark, the air thick with the acrid scent of burning circuits. The windows were shattered, shards of glass scattered across the floor, and the once-smooth walls of the capsule were dented and scarred from the impact.

“Is everyone… is everyone okay?” Julia called out, her voice trembling. She could hear the Chens sobbing quietly, Mr. Chen muttering something about getting out of here. Dr. Sinclair groaned from beside her, his face pale and drawn.

“We need to get out,” Julia said, her voice firmer now. “The Terrans—they’re going to come for us.”

The capsule’s door was wrenched open from the outside. Harsh, cold air rushed in, along with the Terrans. But they didn’t look like the broken, savage people the tourists had been led to expect. They were strong, purposeful, and armed with advanced technology that far surpassed anything Julia had seen on Mars.

One of the Terrans, a tall figure with piercing blue eyes that glinted in the dim light, stepped forward. “Come with us,” they said, their voice calm but commanding. “We’re not here to hurt you. We’re here to show you the truth.”

“The truth?” Julia repeated, her mind reeling from the shock of the crash and the confusion of the situation. “What truth?”

The Earthling gestured toward the ruins outside. “The truth of what really happened to Earth. The truth your people have been hiding from you.”

Julia hesitated, her instincts screaming to run, to get as far away from these people as possible. But something in the Terran’s eyes—something that echoed the connection she had felt earlier—made her pause.

“We don’t have much time,” the Terran urged. “If you want to understand, if you want to survive, you need to come with us now.”

Julia looked back at her grandfather, who was staring at the Terrans with a mixture of fear and awe. He nodded slowly, as if accepting something that he had long suspected but never dared to believe.

“OK,” Julia said, her voice steady now. “Let’s go.”

With that, the tourists—led by Julia and the Terrans—stepped out of the ruined capsule and into the heart of the desolate city. The sky above was still dark, the storm clouds churning ominously.

The Terrans led them through the shattered streets, deeper into the ruins, until they reached an entrance hidden beneath the debris. They descended into the underground, where a hidden city thrived—a city of survivors who had preserved the true history of Earth, who had adapted and evolved in ways the Martians could never have imagined.

As the heavy doors closed behind them, sealing out the hostile world above, Julia knew that her life—and everything she thought she knew—would never be the same again.