A New Earth

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. I guess it’s true. Year after year I stared out the window of the ship’s cafeteria. We’ve seen space debris collide and comets speed by but the only sound is the constant hum of the ship's engines. The same hum I've heard all my life, that my parents listened to, and their parents before them. Hundreds of years we’ve survived on the Ark waiting for the Earth below, our true home, to heal itself from the damage our ancestors had inflicted on it before fleeing on the giant ship we live on now. About a year ago we started seeing signs that it might be time and sent down drones. The air was breathable! Actually it was even more oxygenated than it had been. The water samples came back clean but with high levels of algae. Then the most amazing discovery came with the images the drone was programmed to record. Life. There was life growing on our planet. Like us in that they were humanoid but also so very much like us. Were they also of our ancestors that were left behind and evolved? Or were they something new? Many of us wanted to immediately abandon the Ark and move our whole population down but what if the new natives were violent? Was the air really breathable? Could we really survive? We had so many questions. So a group was formed. Volunteers to explore the unfamiliar world below and be the guinea pigs to gauge if we could at last return, and survive it.

Squelch. That was the sound my boots made with each step I took forward. It was the sound of saturated ground trying to suck me in with each movement. When I first stepped out of the shuttle and my feet hit the somewhat solid ground I couldn’t help but laugh. For the first time in my entire life I didn’t feel the vibrations of the engine under my feet. I felt nothing but the soft wet earth. That feeling of awe faded as we trudged along. My thighs burned from the effort and sweat dripped from my forehead stinging my eyes but I was still grateful. I had volunteered for this. Not because I was strong or particularly smart but because I was curious. Curious about the world my parents had spoken of as vague stories passed down from the generations before them. Earth, a blue planet covered in water in great green lands painted with color from blooming flowers and living creatures.

Grimshaw, my guide and new friend, looked back at me through the grey fog that now covered every inch of what was left of the so-called Earth. Even through the thick atmosphere I could see his pale almost translucent skin gleam. Like the rudolph from the ancient earth tales, he led my way through the dense wood. Grimshaw had been the first to approach our little group.

“Grim, tell me again what you think happened?”

The memories of the end of the world and its history had been left to rot along with the rest of the planet. From what we know the cataclysm came on fast, wiping most of the population out within the first few hours. The lucky ones were able to board the Ark, an experimental ship that wasn’t ready for exploratory space travel. It was believed the remainder of the population were decimated. We were wrong, as we discovered from studying our new friends, they evolved. My ancestors had taken the shuttle and ventured into space on a gamble. Grim’s had come from the later.

“Unsure. Stories change always,” he said, in broken english. We’d only been with them for a month and they were picking our language up quickly. It helped that it was similar to their own. Like them it had evolved. He spoke with ease, unaffected by the same physical distress that had me panting and leaning on my knees.

“But why? What started it?”

He shrugged. “Ancient gods. Spirits of land take back what it had given. Or planet rejected you. Like . . . sickness.”

For a moment I thought I saw a flash of something on his face. Anger or maybe disgust, but it was gone as quick as it had appeared. I shook my head. Grim had been nothing but welcoming and anyone could look gloomy in this atmosphere.

“What do you believe?”

He smiled, his front teeth white but crooked and sharper than my own and then he shrugged. “Nature. What needed to be, was.”

It was the same answer he had given me a dozen times but I couldn’t shake the thought that he knew more. My hand subconsciously went to the locket resting under my damp shirt, outlining its shape with my fingers before realizing Grim was watching.

“You tell story now. About home.” He pointed upwards in the direction of the Ark.

“Well, it’s cooler for one,” I said, fanning myself with my hands. “But it was empty. When I was little I didn’t know any better. My mom gave me lessons in our small apartment while dad went out and worked to keep the ship running. He’s an engineer.” Grim nodded as if he knew what an engineer was and I continued. “But as I got older. Everything got . . . smaller. I could walk from one end of the ship to the other. Looking out the small windows knowing how big everything outside was but we were inside breathing the same stale recycled air, eating protein packets and drinking water filtered from our own urine. We looked down at Earth waiting for a change. Any kind of sign that we could return.”

“Then you sent little robots.”

“Right.”

“And now? What you want?”

“We want to live Grim. We’re just continuing up there. It’s a small ship and we’ve been up there for hundreds of years. How do you think we’ve managed to keep the population down?” Without waiting for an answer I say with tears welling in my eyes. “We hold funerals. For our living. Whenever a new life is born someone has to go. When I was born my grandmother was given her funeral.” He led me to a log to sit and gave me an awkward pat on the back.

“Rest. Then we go home.” He pointed through the fog and I could just barely make out the glow from his floating village. I hoped that soon it would be our village.