The Torch of Man

         A barren landscape stretches for miles ahead; an unforgiving desert which was teeming with life a mere decade ago. This phenomenon had been spreading across the globe at a frightening pace as the atmosphere itself dissipated into the cosmos around them. What is left of the human race now lives in dark bunkers deep below the surface as they breathe synthetic oxygen and consume vegetation that was grown in a lab, but it is becoming increasingly aware among the people that their supplies will not last, and the diminished atmosphere no longer collects enough solar power to energize their machines – lucidly put, the human race was dying alongside their planet.

           The sun began to set on this barren landscape leaving it in a seemingly endless and foreboding darkness, one to which only intensified the staggering distance of the dimly lit stars above. Though one of these stars, glowing ever-so-slightly brighter than the rest as a beacon of hope – of renewal – stood out in the night sky; it felt as if it were inviting the humans to come over and begin anew; to try again.

           Deep below the surface in the bunkers, there are rows upon rows of massive arks designed to travel to that distant star which seemed to be teeming with wildlife and flora. These arks had recently been completed in their construction and await in the sleeping sanctuary of man for their maiden voyages. With the last of mankind’s working technology, these ships have been installed with accelerated ion thrusters, meant to ionize propellant by adding – or removing – electrons to produce ions. Although highly efficient, this technology was once not possible to leave the planet’s atmosphere due to a gentler propel, but with the dead and thinning atmosphere, they all believed this was their best chance of reaching their new home alive.

           Adam, one of the chief engineers behind this exodus, stood before these technological marvels with a frown on his face. He thought about all the things he never got to do here in this world – he never took that vacation to go see the pyramids; he never fell in love; he never raised a family. All of this he believed could have been accomplished had he not dedicated his life to his work. And could he achieve these things still on their new planet? Not seeing pyramids, certainly; but should he survive the trip, maybe this would be his chance to do things right – he would leave the rest of who he was here on this dirt which had faded to red. He would live the life he wanted to live in their new world.

***

Launch Day

           The day that would be forever remembered in the history of mankind. Everyone who could be here was present and accounted for, seated, and strapped in at their designated areas. Children screamed as men and women wept and prayed together, many of their eyes closed and heads bowed as they listened to the massive machines each come alive with a frightening hiss like a creature from some otherworldly nightmare.

           Adam sat in the bubble-like cockpit of his crew ship he was in charge of piloting. The small enclosure of this control room was a separate construction from the rest of the ship, attached through massive tubing, making it all look like a massive metallic insect.

 Seated next to him was his assigned co-pilot. They never had the chance to meet in person before due to their different stations and work schedules, so he found it a little odd that it was the two of them together for this mission. He extended a hand to her, “I don’t believe we’ve met yet, I’m Adam.”

           She took his hand with a smile and shook it. She had that same nervous look in her eye that he was certain was on his; that was on the face of every pilot here for the most crucial launch in the history of humanity. “Eveline,” she said warmly, “I know it’s weird, meeting your co-pilot like this, but I guess we don’t have much of a choice in the matter, right?” Adam chuckled lightly, replying, “Yeah, guess so.” He clicked his radio on and spoke into the microphone. “Mission Control, this is M-Two-Niner-Five, ready for departure.”

           A voice responded to him, saying, “Roger, stand by.” After some moments of silence, the voice behind Mission Control opened up communications to all shuttles saying, “Roger. Countdown a-go in T-minus Five…”

To the passengers – the remaining civilians – an unseen man was now counting down backward over a speaker system that transmitted through the spaceships. Finally, the owner of this mysterious voice made it to the final three numbers, and the last sentence to be heard for millennia in this old, dead world.

           Three…Two…One. Good luck, and God bless.

           The passengers felt rather than heard an intense hum that vibrated through each of the vessels simultaneously. Static filled the interiors in a way that was not unlike a ship capsizing and being filled with water, a sensation that was not lost on most of the passengers which added to the stale air of dread locked inside with them.

           These arks began to tremble, and then rock back and forth in an increasingly aggressive sway as their ionic thrusters attempted to lift the machines through the thin atmosphere. More prayers can be heard through the hulls now. One of the pilots began to weep, another was sweating through their shirt as they strained the controls further; another was yelling out random curses for anyone to hear.

           Adam kept a steady face as he gently yet firmly held his ship’s yoke in place as it fought against it. He looked beside him and saw that Evelyn had a single bead of sweat, but otherwise had the same stoicism to her as she concentrated on her controls.

           A tremendous roar was sounded through the hatchway behind them, coming from the main hull. It broke both pilots’ concentration and made them sputter, believing it was a cry heralding their impending doom as the massive vehicle collapsed. Yet a split second later they realized they were no longer grounded, and the thundering roar behind them was a joyful cheer of relief and praise. They had made it and were on their way to their new home.

           Enthusiastic whoops were shared within the comms between the various pairs of pilots for the ships, and Adam could feel as they whooshed further and further away from their old world’s surface. He turned his head to grin at his co-pilot when he saw past her head at the other ships and felt his blood run cold. They had begun to implode – from what Adam’s expertise could show him, it looked to be some kind of electrical failure, causing the hulls to set fire and cave in on themselves. Evelyn turned and gasped, covering her mouth with her hand as she watched.

           Many of the pilots had hit emergency escape releases, sending their cockpit out as a smaller, singular vessel as stored fuel tanks ignited one powerful but short burst to help propel them forward still; fuel tanks that were designed and put in place for this exact kind of emergency. Some of the pods that fired away from their burning wreckage of human cargo had managed to keep moving upward, but they were terribly off course from their destination and had drifted off into all the far corners of space – most of the escaping pods, however, combusted and burned just like their main body had.

           Adam and Evelyn looked at each other, both aware of the difficult choice ahead of them. Were they to stay and go down along with their own burning passengers, or would they try to make it? When it came to the fate of the human race, it was a harsh but easy conclusion to come to, as they nodded to each other, and simultaneously hit the emergency RELEASE valve, splitting and exonerating guilt between and of them both.

           Together they hurled into the waiting darkness as fire danced on their horizons. Adam would watch the burning wreckage of their lost ark drift aimlessly away from its home, and would later admit to himself that, as he watched the flames die out from the lack of oxygen, he found that fire in zero gravity was a beautiful sight to see, as it waved rather than licked, like a puddle being blown by the wind before being quickly evaporated.

           “We…” Evelyn paused, “Well, we made it out, at least…” she said quietly. Adam realized he had a death grip on the escape pod's yolk and forced his fingers to unclamp and let go; that would do us no good now, anyway. “Yeah, at least we did. And maybe some of the others did, too.” He replied. “They had to have, Adam. I really do pray that they did.” Adam nodded to her in reply and turned his gaze back out the massive vizor and into the open space before them, their tiny blue dot of a destination straight ahead as they drifted.

           Moving from the shock of the horror that they had narrowly escaped from, Adam was now dumbstruck with awe. His mouth hung agape as he gazed at the sight before them. “It’s so amazing out here,” he breathed, “more beautiful than anything I could ever imagine.”

           Evelyn did the same as she reviewed the constellations before her, now brighter than ever before now that they were seemingly a star themselves. She recalled a song her mother used to sing to her as a child, a song about stardust. Though their cabin wasn’t entirely spacious, she undid her seatbelt and let her drift up. She laughed and held her hand out to Adam, who quickly unbuckled himself and joined her in the zero-gravity splendor. They rotated each way though always felt their direction of ‘up’ never changed, as there was no longer a North or a South; here, there only is.

           She laid her head on his chest, and he wrapped an arm around her. Neither of them truly knew why, at first, but knew it felt right. Maybe it was the simple truth that they were all that was left, maybe it was the moment of being among the center of creation. Either way, they had found comfort in the aftermath with each other.

           “Do you think we’ll make it there, Adam?”

           For a moment, he didn’t speak. Then he craned his neck upwards, in the direction where their small shuttle was moving. “I think so. It will be some time, but we will. Look, you can see it there.” He pointed, and she followed.

           “That’s it, isn’t it?” Evelyn asked, “Earth?”

           “Yeah,” Adam smiled, “the planet Earth.”