1,588 words - teen sci-fi
I leaped from the space pod right
before it crashed, tumbling as I hit the ground. Gravel scraped my palms and
tore at my pants. The pod was a wreck. Coming into earth’s atmosphere had been
harder than expected. It was never going to fly again. But that didn’t matter.
This was a one-way trip for me.
I hadn’t bothered with a helmet and
breathing was laborious. There was enough oxygen, but sucking in the dirty air
made my lungs ache. When I looked up, the sky was a murky red at the edges
fading to a smoky black top. Crags of volcano tops ripped up the skyline. I
knew it was bad before I came. Everyone knew. But seeing it for myself was so
much worse.
I got to me feet as the earth
shifted under me, throwing me back onto my side, spilling my dozens of cornrow
braids onto the ground around me.
Pressing a hand to the capsule
hanging around my neck, I felt a warm pulse against my palm. The seed was still
safe.
Rolling onto my back, I looked
straight up. Somewhere up there, there was a sun, dull and red, ready to blink
out of existence. But the volcano ash was too thick to make it out. I sat up
and looked around, more wary about getting to my feet this time. The gravel was
the same deep brown as my skin, like people had crumbled to pieces here, their
bodies turned to dust and rock. Something cracked behind me and I jumped up.
The ground was breaking open, a
deep fissure splitting the earth like a crooked mouth. The ground popped and
crackled under my feet, ready to swallow me up. I ran.
The seed was burning inside the
capsule, hot and alive. I needed to plant it before it was too late, but where?
The ground was black and broken. The volcanoes were angry or dead. The sun was
hidden. The whole earth was decaying. The seed didn’t stand a chance on this
planet.
The further I ran, sweat dripping
off my nose and chin, the more I realized how pointless this was. I came here
to save this seed, to try and save humanity, but all that was here for us was
death. I knew it was a suicide mission, but I didn’t realize it would be a
genocide mission too.
I scrambled up the side of a
volcano, slipping on loose stones like broken glass. The peak of the volcano was
smoking like a newly blown out candle. Steadying myself, I looked around for
something, but I didn’t know what I was looking for anymore. Green was an
impossible color here.
There was only black and that one
belt of red circling me on the horizon, dividing the black in two. As I watched,
even the red line of light was dimming, fading away until it was a smudge. And
then a memory. Blackness engulfed me.
Wind hit, cold and sharp, snatching
the sweat off my skin. I huddled down on the side of the volcano, wrapping
myself together for warmth.
The darkness was so thick it
pressed my eyeballs back into my skull.
The sun was gone.
I knew it like I knew I was
breathing.
The sun was gone.
The
Sun
Was
Gone.
I was too late.
There could be no life without a
sun.
The volcano I was huddled against
flared, throwing orange light and a blast of heat over everything. I slipped,
lost my balance, and tumbled down the side of the volcano. The sharp rocks stabbed
at me until I slid to a stop at the bottom.
I pulled my arm out from under me
and untangled my legs. My hand went to the capsule around my neck. It was safe.
My clothes were shredded though. I could feel the wind whipping the torn edges.
My shoulder and leg were both bleeding. It was too dark to see, but I could
feel my limbs slippery with blood.
I should not have come.
I pictured this planet, floating
through space next to a smoldering rock that used to glow. What did a sun look
like when it was gone? No one would ever know.
I blinked, but the darkness didn’t
lift.
Stretching out my legs, I rested
back on my hands, wincing, and looked straight up at where the stars were, if
only I could see them. I tugged the capsule off from around my neck.
“There’s no place for you, little
seed,” I said. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. All you need is one little bit of life
to live off of, but there is no life here.”
I pictured each volcano going out,
turning cold, the lava hardening. I would be long dead before the last of them.
If only they were truly alive. Then I would climb to the top and throw the seed
in. But I knew it would be a waste.
I opened the capsule and light came
out as the glowing seed tumbled into my palm. It was like a star, right there
in my hand, the only one I could see.
This one seed contained the fate of
billions of people. How tragic that neither it nor I would ever grow up to
become what we could have been. We would be the last two things to die on this
planet.
“Oh,” I said, as a realization came
to me. “I am alive. I am the life I came here looking for.” It hadn’t been a
waste coming here.
I scraped at the ground with one
hand, pulling up chunks of rock and earth. Then I dropped the single speck of
light into the shallow hole. It shined up at me, bright and warm. I buried it
and the world went dark. But not forever.
I let the blood from my arm and leg
drip onto the buried seed, like water for a plant. But this was no mere
vegetation I was growing. The blood was dripping too slowly, so I took a sharp
rock, sucked in my breath, and pressed the pointed edge into the wound on my
leg, ripping it wider.
I gasped at the pain, but the blood
came freely now, swift and thick. I let it run.
I had known I was coming here to
die. This was the best death I could have imagined for myself.
I hoped the seed would grow
quickly. I hoped I wasn’t too late. I hoped there were people still alive,
still waiting for the light to come back.
I felt my consciousness draining
away with the blood. I fell to my side and curled around the hole I’d dug, my
braids splayed on the ground around my head.
And I waited to die.
The place where I’d planted the
seed began to glow. And then one tiny little tendril of light poked out of the
ground like a plant sprout. Right in front of me, it began to grow. I watched
leaves divide from the stem, the tips of them reaching higher and higher like a
plant looking for sunshine. It pulled itself up tall as branches split off and
more leaves budded. I flopped onto my back to watch it fill out above me, this
tree of bright light. The trunk thickened, the branches lengthened, the leaves
multiplied. It was beautiful and glorious.
The tree at last settled into
itself, the whole process happening without a sound. And then fruit began to
form, blossoming from the branches, filling out full and round, making the
branches bend beneath their weight.
Right above me, a branch tipped
down, a single piece of fruit at its tip. I reached up, and the fruit fell into
my hand. It was hot and heavy, and when I bit into it, the skin broke under my
teeth spilling juice down my chin and delicious sweet warmth into my mouth. I
had never tasted anything so delicious.
I could feel the warmth spreading
from my stomach down through my limbs. And then, in my center, where my shirt
is torn to expose my stomach, I began to glow.
Tendrils of bright white light emerged
on my skin, curling and growing, making a pattern of curves across my stomach.
The light kept growing, curling across my chest, wrapping down my arms, and
spilling down my legs. Vines of light curl around wrists and ankles. As I watched,
the wounds on my arm and leg began to close up, the skin healing without a
scar. My veins, empty of blood, filled with light. Small leaves and flowers
blossomed in the design on my skin like they had been inked on in shining
white. A rose bloomed on my palm as vines curled around each finger and toe. I
could feel the light trickling up my cheeks and across the back of my neck.
I sat up, turning my hands over and
over, stretching out my legs, admiring the shimmering beauty.
I could feel heat intensifying
across my back, warm and comforting. When I turned my head, I saw that two enormous
fiery wings had grown from the light, stretching out from my shoulders. I furled
them open and felt a rush of glory at their size and majesty.
I didn’t come here to die.
I came here to live.
The trees roots began shooting out
across the ground like tongues of fire, turning the black earth to burning
gold.
The next sun was coming.
photo by steve p2008
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