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Colonial Corps Logo c. 2200 C.E.

Karl Edgar Nassim

Last Human Standing, Essay 21

88 A.C.

Am I the most fundamentally alone that any human has ever been?

Even the poorest wretch on the fringes of society might hope each day to make eye contact with another human being, if only to exchange dismissive looks or an upraised middle finger. I certainly do not have that option, marooned here alone on Europa. The sense of solitude hovers above me with such gravity that it seems there is nothing but solid stone filling the universe around these thin metal walls; as though this research outpost were a deeply buried tomb. As in fact it will become a tomb one day; my very own, and buried not in bedrock but in deep layers of time.

And yet, am I more fundamentally alone than the brave explorer dying alone on some remote peak? Am I more alone than the dying victim of the earthquake, buried under tons of rubble?

It occurs to me that the explorer and the quake victim might hope for rescue in a manner that I cannot. A helicopter, a rescue team… it would not be impossible. Of the many brave explorers lost alone over the centuries, it is inevitable that some were rescued. Survivors are pulled from beneath the rubble after every earthquake, after all.

But it seems unreasonable for me to have such hopes. If I was marooned here and there was a fully functional space fleet operating from Earth, it would still be logistically difficult to retrieve me. And there is no fleet on Earth; there is nothing on Earth. There is nothing but a shroud of black smoke choking a silent planet. The smoke is shot through with lightning as if advertising in neon the success of the extinction.

But on the other hand, I often heard it said that nobody is more truly alone than the one who is alone while surrounded by people. Would I not feel infinitely worse knowing there was still a community somewhere; one which I could never join?

And yet, in that scenario, I would not have to mourn the entire human race.

I suppose it is possible there were moments in which every single one of us was as alone as anyone has ever felt. I suppose that is, or rather was, a fundamental consequence of the human condition. And certainly I had moments in life when I felt so, despite there still being other members of my species around. In those times I reached for the presence of God. In those times I did not feel fundamentally abandoned.

But I have to confess I am having a harder time finding reassurance from the Almighty in the current situation. I struggle to understand why God would allow the Cataclysm to happen; or far worse, why He might have sent it. If it was in punishment for our sins, what of the many other lives of His Creation; simple creatures who do not sin? What of the presumptive life on other worlds; should it also meet extinction for our original sins? Or did we in fact die for sins of theirs?

In the years before the Cataclysm many new religions were born on Earth. One of the largest, The Church of the Eternal Night, espoused the belief that the Cataclysm was the will of God, and that it was a sin to attempt to survive the disaster. In my darkest moments I fear they were right, and that I am the one who has been singled out for eternal punishment.

Then I recognize that according to my own religion, I am committing the minor sin of egotism.

The Church I belonged to had a far different approach. We believed that the Cataclysm was a sort of final exam. God left clues for our survival in the form of mathematics and science, along with a methodology template and an indication of His will, in the story of the Great Flood. Blueprints and instructions, if you will, for a modern Ark. The Warrens and the BioShip were supposed to be that Ark.

But it seems we failed the exam. And although I am not quite sure why, I appear to have gotten Detention. And I have no idea what I am supposed to do here, except possibly write these humble paragraphs.

I find it harder each day to take solace from the Almighty.

But I haven’t given up faith.

Interstellar Ship One Advisory Council

Meeting Minutes

c. 2199 C.E.

Roll Call:

Overcaptain: Sara Margaret Kilcannon (Present)

Lobe 1 Captain: Louis Abayo Samine (Present)

Lobe 2 Undercaptain: Nasser Gabriel Fayyad (Present)

Lobe A Governor: Edward Mays LeSalle (Present)

Colonial Corps Commander: Rochelle Annalisa Ermes (Present)

Samine: This meeting is in session. The purpose of this meeting is a non-binding advisory vote regarding the go/no-go for colonization of the planet designated as Colony Target Five. No other business shall be considered at this meeting. Before we begin, are there any new findings which might assist us in making our determinations? Undercaptain Fayyad?

Fayyad: We have no new data to report concerning CT-5. We still haven’t been able to pin down the planet’s orbit with high confidence; we still haven’t been able to photograph the surface. Otherwise the readings continue to look good; really good, in fact. But we just haven’t had the time to get harder numbers. We haven’t been able to get any proof.

Samine: Thank you, Undercaptain. Commander Ermes?

Ermes: Well, as you can imagine with no new data coming in we’ve cracked the initial numbers as hard as we could. Half the Corps has been working on this. We can’t add confidence to the model that it’s very likely there’s land masses under there. But we are feeling good about the possibility. We can’t disprove that the planetary orbit might be unstable. As Undercaptain Fayyad said a moment ago, there simply hasn’t been time. That part we do not necessarily feel quite so positive about. So, still a conundrum on our end.

Samine: Very well. Are there any other items for consideration? None? Final opportunity, then. I call for statement and non-binding vote. Undercaptain Fayyad?

Fayyad: I abstain from casting my vote. I do not have enough information to make an educated choice. I agree the planet looks fine, chemically and biologically speaking. Much better than CT-1, which we actually colonized. But the bottom line for me is we know it’s a water-world and we can’t see the surface. So-called mathematical proof of a surface isn’t enough for me. Add in the high gravity and unknown orbital stability and the turbulent atmosphere… again, there is only theory to sustain this colonization mission. And yet it is good theory. So I choose to abstain.

Samine: So noted and so recorded. Governor LeSalle?

LeSalle: Public sentiment is for the effort, so initially I was going to vote in the affirmative. But as an individual I have to agree with the Undercaptain. Personally I would not fly on this mission. Not that anyone is asking me to! But it places me in a tough situation. I cannot in good conscience vote the way the public would like me to. Therefore I also must abstain.

Samine: So noted and recorded. Commander Ermes? And please do not just say “Anytime, anywhere!” and vote in the affirmative.

Ermes: But I am saying that. We only ever say it because we mean it. A breathable atmosphere, water, and gravity that won’t quite kill us? We relish the chance. We completely trust our physicists when they calculate that there’s land surface under those clouds, just as you officers and official ought to place trust in Colonial Corps that we can successfully colonize the place! Of course we can do this. I vote most emphatically in the affirmative!

Samine: Commander, that was… predictable, yet eloquent. Perhaps the Governor there could use a new speechwriter when you retire. As for myself, I vote in the negative. As the Captain of Lobe 1, I am directly responsible for the Authority personnel who would pilot the landing boat, and I have seen nothing to convince me those brave pilots would not be laying their lives on the line for nothing. Are there any addenda? Very well. Overcaptain Kilcannon, on the matter of the possible colonization of the planet designated CT-5, I present an advisory vote total of one vote in the affirmative, and one vote in the negative, with two abstentions.

Kilcannon: The lot of you is far less helpful to me than one might think.

Samine: Admitted with apologies, Overcaptain.

Kilcannon: Our mandate is to colonize worlds, and the trust in Interstellar Ship One to fulfill that task was given us by the entire human race. They put that faith in us with no proof whatsoever that any worlds would survive the Cataclysm. Now the physicists and planetologists and the Colonial Corps are asking for the same level of trust, while showing us photographic and analytic evidence of just such a world. I cannot help but think the people who launched the BioShip would have jumped at this opportunity. Thoughts?

LeSalle: It’s rather hard to find fault with your assessment, Overcaptain, given that you were there.

Kilcannon: It’s not polite to discuss a lady’s age, Governor. Ever more so as the centuries pass.

LeSalle: Oh, I know. But none of the people who work for you were going to say it.

Kilcannon: Well, that much is true. Thank you for your time, everyone. I understand this is risky. I understand that you have objections and I understand the nature of those objections. But I have heard nothing to change my mind. The CT-5 colonization mission is “Go”. Captain Samine, if you would be so kind?

Samine: Certainly, Overcaptain. There will be no call for final orders of business, and this meeting is adjourned.

[Indistinct: 26 seconds]

LeSalle: Nasser, what the hell? This is borderline crazy. Why is she pushing so hard on this? She’s liable to kill all these people.

Fayyad: Shh. The recorders are still on.

LeSalle: Who cares? Like anyone will ever access these records. I got to tell you, I think this is dicey.

[Record ends]

Tasaya Belocq

The Voyage of the Emissary

1000 A.C.

I have travelled back in time.

It is the 970s again. I am in my hometown. It is a winter day and the sky is gunmetal gray, with large and indecisive flakes of snow vacillating down from above.

I am seven years old, except when I am older or younger in that fluid surrealism of the dream-state. I look up at the sky and watch the flakes tumble to earth but I do not see them as they are. I see stars, drifting past me as though I am moving through outer space at speed. I pick up a snow-covered rock and hold it up in dark silhouette to the winter sky. “Je suis le BioNavire,” I say. “Vroom, vroom.”

“Que faites-tu?” The voice behind me makes me jump. It is some of the kids from the schoolyard; they shouldn’t be here at all; they are from earlier in my life, but then I realize I am in the schoolyard after all. I turn and the tough kids are there. The three of them are always together, their snow hats pulled down low on their foreheads, doing what they can to make life miserable for the other children. Which other than stupid comments is precious little since we live in a civilized society; but in the dream it does not appear to be true that this is so. I definitely feel a sense of danger.

“Rien,” I say defensively, but of course they are not fooled. One of them spots the rock and snatches it away from me. “’Vroom, vroom,’” he quotes me as the other two scream with laughter. Then he throws the rock away; it arcs into the snow and darkness and disappears from sight. It lands unseen in the gloom, without making a sound.

“Le BioNavire est mort,” he gets right in my face to tell me, “Comme votre cerveau!” And they cackle gleefully.

I hear them and the words hurt but my focus must be on the rock. I must find it. I break away from them and run into the cold darkness; they follow and jeer at me from behind. “Tassi est fou! Tassi est fou!” I scrabble around in the snow for the rock, my fingers going numb from the cold. But I cannot find it. Twice I think I have it in my hand, only to bring the empty palm of a white glove to my face.

The tough kids have caught up to me. They encircle me and start closing in. They continue to chant that I am crazy; the sing-song fills my head and I struggle to remember that none of this is real. It is a dream and I should not have come here; nothing good can come of visiting the past like this. I know that I am in my cabin on Emissary, light-years away from Earth. I know I am asleep. I know that I am decades away from the fear and the uncertainty and the loneliness.

Or am I?