In the Beginning

Most mornings Eve woke to the memory of walking across the fog dusted freshly cut grass, the sunrise muffled behind waves of clouds. The punch of the breeze battling the humidity made her eyes water, and the leaves swayed in a hushed hiss. She remembered the warmth of steaming coffee pressed against her lips, as she listened to her father play soft melodies at the piano bench. She recalled breathing the air of warm water drops cascading from the shower head and the quiet light that sung through the windows. She relished the scent of rain beating against warm pavement, the simplicity in the joy that rainbows brought. She missed the days she spent peacefully cloud deciphering and the nights she spent wistfully star gazing.

The morning was as ordinary as any other morning. The only difference being her father would drive her to the launch site, she would take one final breath of oxygen and board the XY Exodus. It was as if the stars in space knew she’d soon be alongside them, but home was unaware she was bidding her goodbyes.

The XY Exodus soared Eve across the universe; Through fields of saturated planets with mysterious rings and mists, casting shadows to the light and dark of space; Propelled past stars so bright she imagined she could see them from any region of the universe.

She looked at a photo of her father, wondering if he, or anyone back home was still alive. She let the tears run down her cheeks without an attempt to stop them and when her breath grew shaky it didn’t matter because no one could hear it.

She did all that before breakfast.

“Comet, what am I going to do?” Eve asked her cotton stuffed doll. She dabbed her cheeks and rolled out any tears that might’ve been left. “Yeah, yeah, I know. You don’t always have to be such a pessimist.”

Eve stretched out despair and inhaled an impression of positivity. The packaged eggs crinkled as she unzipped the bag and dumped them on a plate. The first year exploring the galaxies was like discovering paradise, carved in eons worth of hope for her people. Back then she was strong enough that the weight of the world hadn’t felt so heavy.

Eve sighed, dropping the plate beside the computer which stored all the statistics for planets compatibility, catalogues she’d made, and most invaluably the navigating system. Eve had spent seven years in space, but with the absence of days and nights, simply existing felt like an eternity. During that eternity food began to taste like a means to an end, adding purple to the dark bags under her eyes until she looked more alien than human. Luckily, space had coffee which aided in combating one of her ninety-nine problems. Her days consisted of perpetual searching; for life, for a new home, for anything. Somewhere in the seven years of searching, she lost the hope that was once as inescapable as Eve’s need for air or water. As she ate her crusted eggs the navigator detected three planets that would take less than four hours to arrive at. In all of Eve’s years of searching she was seeing something she had never seen.

A planet compatible with her own.

Eve collected all her small victories and when she measured it with finding a new home, nothing came close. There was a chance the planet wouldn’t work out, but for once she wasn’t fighting to walk the rope holding together her sanity, the rope was holding itself. This meant she had three hours and twenty-six minutes to walk the rope without fear and instead hope, perhaps false hope, but hope all the same.

Eve celebrated with an old mixtape consisting of her favourite songs. She checked the plantation lab for new developments, and in true routine fashion, there were none. She marked an ‘X’ on her calendar, it was a Tuesday. Had this been her morning three years ago she would’ve called her father for their chat. Eve would’ve told him about all the magical mysteries of space and assured him that hope was on the horizon, even if she didn’t believe it. They wouldn’t have much time, only thirty minutes, but Eve quickly realized thirty minutes once a week made a big difference when space feels like an infinite black hole.

She tried not to dwell on the day the systems failed. It was like a star in supernova; The explosion was measured not in beauty, but in tragedy. Her mind buzzed with panic, drowned in absolute devastation that boiled across her skin the moment she realized she’d never see her father’s smile or say another “I love you”. The only counsel she had was that the navigating system held along with the engines. So, at least she wasn’t completely lost in space. Eve missed all the things she’d never expected to miss and was glad to have rid most of what she left behind. She was nearing the end of her allotted time for self-pity when she turned the switch off on her emotions, before climbing into the steering pit and preparing for her arrival on a new planet. Possibly a new home.

When Eve landed, the gravity of the planet was nearly exactly the same as back home. Eve stepped into the boots of her space suit, as if it were a second skin latching to her body. She opened the hatch at the back of the ship and as it slithered up, the cold air rushed in to bite its way through her suit and nibble at her skin.

Eve was taken by her longing for the warmth that never ceased at home. The sun sizzling her skin, dancing across the world with its hearty glow. Space was anything but warm. Space was perpetual darkness, where even the things that emitted light shone an icy cast and eventually were snuffed out by the universes command. She wondered how long her home’s sun had until its flame was stolen too. Or maybe her home would be long gone before the sun went up in flames. Eve wasn’t sure if you could mourn something that wasn’t dead or gone. But sometimes, she did.

Three suns sat in the shape of a triangle hidden behind clouds of electric purple, moon-kissed blue and emerald green. In some places the clouds overlapped to make pools of exotic textures and colours decorating the skies. Eve had landed by a lake which ran for as far as she could see. The skyline met beastly mountains and a jungle worth of weeping trees coated in ice and snow that reflected the skies canvas.

The lake was lined with various small formations covered in fuzzes or defended by hard shells. Eve picked up each one carefully and added them to her kit and the list of things to research when she got back to the ship. By the time Eve made it to the cluster of trees, night had evaded with four moons looming over the planet. The trees blocked the breeze and a lull flew throughout the whispers shared between frosted leaves.

Punching up from the ground sat a bizarrely placed cave surrounded by bushes glossed in bustling bugs. Just like the rest of the forest it wasn’t completely dark; lightening bugs illuminated the contents of the cave. She stepped in and noticed the temperature dropped a few degrees. Bubbles of fog formed from her breathing and here the bugs humming was softer. The waxy shards of grass faded into a path lined with rocks and pebbles, the walls draped with large and small sharp crystals.

Eve found a deep green running stream with mist hovering above the surface. The stream was loud enough that Eve hardly noticed when something started splashing around in the water. She took a few cautioned steps back, but within seconds the splashing floated to the shore before simply ceasing.

Silence spilt through the cave.

The only movement was Eve’s adrenaline battling for dominance over the stillness. The quiet lasted an eternity if eternity was drawn out in a few seconds of fear mighty enough to heat a freezing cave on a different planet. Eve drew a shaky breath preparing for it to be the last. She imagined some terribly horrific monster creeping out of the pond ready to take her life in an all too easy game of chase. That’s why when a tiny head popped out of the water relief coursed through her, destructing any trace of terror.

The creature’s tiny claws slipped about upon exiting the stream, its narrow tail dragging along the sand. Stumbling up to Eve, it tumbled clumsily through a summersault before dragging itself back up, shaking out its stubby white and grey patched fur. Eve prompted herself to her knees and examined it as much as it examined her. The creature’s round sapphire eyes widened and shrank, tilting its head while waving pointed wings.

She wondered if things like innocence, morals, or goodness mattered to the creature and if those principles still existed back home. She worried that home had drained away, the way time or life does and that nothing, not even a new planet would revive it. She’d thought it impossible for another world war to ever strike again, but on the third year of traveling it did. The planet suffered environmental devastation and only grew weaker with the war waged. Her father called less and less and the Captain running her program constantly reminded Eve of the urgency to find a planet B.

All her previous hope had dissipated and transformed into cynicism. She wished that love, and kindness and charity were as strong as the greed and hate and envy that ruled the world. Her planet had been turning since the dawn of time and in all that history, what did they have to show for it? Climate change. Corrupt governments. Unforgivable prejudice. Eve couldn’t help but think, maybe everything that made this planet infinite in its beauty would become finite if it were to become home. She felt foolish to have been too busy looking for a new planet that she’d never asked if a new home was a second chance they deserved.

She jumped when a voice humming the melody of the lightening bugs drifted through the cave. The voice was deeper with a huskier tone than anything she’d yet to hear on the planet. Eve followed the voice like a guide, she walked until the cave slipped back into darkness only to reveal glaring light at the cave’s edge. Eve ran to the light.

The world that laid at the end of the cave was vastly different from the one she had landed on. Eve soaked in the sun grazing through the tall trees and bushes scattered about. She tore off her space suit and inhaled the oxygen. Eve wasn’t sure that she even had a home anymore, she’d spent the past seven years exploring space and learned home wasn’t a place, but a feeling. Right then, Eve, for once felt right; like everything in the universe collided together for that moment in time, something of fate. If Eve had it her way she’d stay there forever, and she of all people knew how long forever lasted.

“Hello?” A voice chimed from behind her. Eve turned to find a man with a hand full of berries and shock splayed across his face.

“I’m Eve.” She struggled to say, offering her hand to the man. She didn’t know if people back home still did that, but she thought she’d at least try. He shook her hand, curiosity replacing his expression. “Adam.”

“Where are we?” Eve asked, gazing to the clear blue skies, ones she’d never seen back home.

“I call it Earth.” Adam said, they were standing in the middle of a garden when he held out a berry to Eve, and after a moment of hesitation she took it.