- Joined
- Mar 20, 2020
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- 467
I"ve revised based on the great feedback. Please let me know what you all think!
***
One day before Landfall
Alyn went to close the door and was startled by the face reflected in its polished silver skin. It was his. Deeply lined and sallow, the sleepless nights had taken their toll. However, no amount of rest could have prepared him for the treachery that he’d just witnessed moments ago. Six Congress Members plotted behind the silver door, and by the fuzzy math of proportional representation, were nearly enough to decide the fate of thousands. Alyn gritted his teeth and tensed himself, driven by the impulse to rush back in and put an end to all of it. But the heavy weight of reason bowed his head and slumped his shoulders. He sighed and closed the door.
Click.
The sound of the latch comforted him some as the thick door sealed tight and muffled the ruckus behind it. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply in an effort to calm his nerves as he took in the quiet of the empty hallway. It felt like a cool breeze on a hot day, at least from what he remembered. They had left Earth so long ago that even this memory had started to fade.
“Governor. I’d like a—”, said Captain Chung, who had just rounded the corridor’s gentle curve. Her pursed lips and furrowed brow told him everything he needed to know.
“Captain,” he said with a curt nod before he bolted in the opposite direction.
Click.
He entered his quarters a short while later, relieved to hear the door latch again, as if it had sealed off the lunacy from behind the silver door. But he was not safe here. Like the Flu bug they struggled to contain, the madness could infect him too, for ideas could pass up corridors, enter through doors and infiltrate the refuge of his self-imposed quarantine.
In a daze, he made his way to the room’s center, collapsed on the white leather couch, and inadvertently knocked over the vase and its dozen red flowers as he kicked his feet onto the glass coffee table. They lay upon the carpet in a pool of stagnant water. He sighed again. He had grander problems to think of. If only he could rest! Gather his thoughts and work through the proposition the six had foisted upon him. But there was no time to rest. He would come to a decision tonight, for landfall was tomorrow. He would determine the fate of the thousands of lives aboard the two failing star-ships. The last remnants of Earth.
The doorbell’s pleasant chime echoed through the room. Alyn went to the door and peered at the face on the video screen. There stood a man, slightly younger than he and whose face, though grave, possessed far more optimism than the situation warranted. Captain Jacob of their sister ship, the Renascent, was the last person he wanted to see, but he opened the door to his good friend anyway.
“Eleazar. Good to see you,” said Alyn with a warm smile that he hoped his guest would find authentic, for it was fabricated to hide the shame of what had transpired behind the polished silver door. He gestured to the couch. “Please. Sit.”
“Thank you,” Eleazar replied. He stared at the flowers and vase on the wet floor as he sat. Alyn returned a weak smile and sat upon the upholstered chair directly across from him. Eleazar smiled back and said, “Can you believe it Alyn? Over three years wandering in space like… a caravan of nomads. “After all we’ve been through,” he leaned back and shook his head, “we’ve finally found a home.”
Alyn looked behind him at the window. “A wonder isn’t it? No. A miracle. It was here all along, hidden from our scans on Earth and now we’ve got… choice.”
With a grin, Eleazar looked over to it for a moment before facing him again. “Yes indeed. It’s incredible. Five years ago, no one had ever conceived the possibility that we’d even get here.”
Alyn mustered a chuckle. “To think we owe it all to a billionaire entrepreneur whose prior claim to fame was attracting investment without every turning a profit. But I gotta hand it to him, his Rift Gate…” Alyn shook his head in admiration and snapped his fingers. “We jumped over four light years, just like that.”
“Finch is a genius. Albert Einstein and Henry Ford in equal proportions. I mean… that thing was leaps and bounds ahead of its time. How he devised it… well... who knows? But, it got us here, and that’s what matters.”
“Though... a bit off target.”
“Just four million miles. What’s that in the grand scheme of things?”
They smiled in collective silence for a while before things became serious again. Alyn spoke first. “Given our predicament, I’ll assume this meeting will be one of official business?” Eleazar nodded in agreement. “Very well.” Alyn pulled back his sleeve and pressed in the top pusher of his wristwatch.
Eleazar said, “Well. As you know, we’re not out of the woods yet. Making landfall will prove to be difficult. Probably deadly.”
Alyn looked down and gave a series of knowing nods before he said, “Yeah. I do understand that.” He slowly looked back up and met the other man’s gaze. “Let’s hear your idea for how we get out of this mess.”
They talked for about twenty minutes before they embraced and said good-bye. Alyn leaned against the door frame and stared as Eleazar passed around the bend in the corridor, out of sight.
Click.
The door latch closed and he knew in that moment - whichever decision he came too - that he would never see his friend again.
Zzzz. Zzzz. The little red light on the intercom panel flashed in-step with its buzzer.
“Yes, Dara,” he said.
A reedy computerized voice replied; “The Dominus’s six Congress members have recorded their votes.”
He raised an eyebrow and held his breath. “And how did they vote Dara?”
“Six votes were cast in favor of the Proposal.”
Madness!
“Governor. You are required to register your vote to Congress no later than 00:00 Earth Time.” Alyn went completely still, as if he could turn himself invisible and they would all forget about him, but it was no good. After all, they had sent her to remind him of the futility of avoidance. Dutifully, Dara responded, “Governor?”
”Affirmative. I understand Dara.”
Driven by restless energy, he moved across the room and planted his hands on the window sill. Like twin pearls in a deep black ocean, two planets glowed softly in the sun’s cool bluish light. A deep urge had stirred inside him ever since he had first cast eyes on them two days ago.
Hope.
They had not had hope for quite some time and oh had they suffered from its lack, but like lime to scurvy, hope had reconstituted their spirits, straightened their backs, and squared their jaws and shoulders. Who was he to take that away from them?
He knew in that instant what decision he would make, though in truth, he always did, he just would not admit it to himself. But with the clock close to midnight, there was nowhere to hide, not from Dara, not himself, and not from those who would live with the consequences.
“Dara?”
“Yes.”
“Notify the others that I am ready.”
“Yes Governor.”
He stared back at the planets and spoke with a clear tone and measured cadence. “Governor Alyn Frederick reporting to the official log of Earth’s Own Ship Dominus on this 27th day of June, 2035 Earth Time.”
***
One day before Landfall
Alyn went to close the door and was startled by the face reflected in its polished silver skin. It was his. Deeply lined and sallow, the sleepless nights had taken their toll. However, no amount of rest could have prepared him for the treachery that he’d just witnessed moments ago. Six Congress Members plotted behind the silver door, and by the fuzzy math of proportional representation, were nearly enough to decide the fate of thousands. Alyn gritted his teeth and tensed himself, driven by the impulse to rush back in and put an end to all of it. But the heavy weight of reason bowed his head and slumped his shoulders. He sighed and closed the door.
Click.
The sound of the latch comforted him some as the thick door sealed tight and muffled the ruckus behind it. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply in an effort to calm his nerves as he took in the quiet of the empty hallway. It felt like a cool breeze on a hot day, at least from what he remembered. They had left Earth so long ago that even this memory had started to fade.
“Governor. I’d like a—”, said Captain Chung, who had just rounded the corridor’s gentle curve. Her pursed lips and furrowed brow told him everything he needed to know.
“Captain,” he said with a curt nod before he bolted in the opposite direction.
Click.
He entered his quarters a short while later, relieved to hear the door latch again, as if it had sealed off the lunacy from behind the silver door. But he was not safe here. Like the Flu bug they struggled to contain, the madness could infect him too, for ideas could pass up corridors, enter through doors and infiltrate the refuge of his self-imposed quarantine.
In a daze, he made his way to the room’s center, collapsed on the white leather couch, and inadvertently knocked over the vase and its dozen red flowers as he kicked his feet onto the glass coffee table. They lay upon the carpet in a pool of stagnant water. He sighed again. He had grander problems to think of. If only he could rest! Gather his thoughts and work through the proposition the six had foisted upon him. But there was no time to rest. He would come to a decision tonight, for landfall was tomorrow. He would determine the fate of the thousands of lives aboard the two failing star-ships. The last remnants of Earth.
The doorbell’s pleasant chime echoed through the room. Alyn went to the door and peered at the face on the video screen. There stood a man, slightly younger than he and whose face, though grave, possessed far more optimism than the situation warranted. Captain Jacob of their sister ship, the Renascent, was the last person he wanted to see, but he opened the door to his good friend anyway.
“Eleazar. Good to see you,” said Alyn with a warm smile that he hoped his guest would find authentic, for it was fabricated to hide the shame of what had transpired behind the polished silver door. He gestured to the couch. “Please. Sit.”
“Thank you,” Eleazar replied. He stared at the flowers and vase on the wet floor as he sat. Alyn returned a weak smile and sat upon the upholstered chair directly across from him. Eleazar smiled back and said, “Can you believe it Alyn? Over three years wandering in space like… a caravan of nomads. “After all we’ve been through,” he leaned back and shook his head, “we’ve finally found a home.”
Alyn looked behind him at the window. “A wonder isn’t it? No. A miracle. It was here all along, hidden from our scans on Earth and now we’ve got… choice.”
With a grin, Eleazar looked over to it for a moment before facing him again. “Yes indeed. It’s incredible. Five years ago, no one had ever conceived the possibility that we’d even get here.”
Alyn mustered a chuckle. “To think we owe it all to a billionaire entrepreneur whose prior claim to fame was attracting investment without every turning a profit. But I gotta hand it to him, his Rift Gate…” Alyn shook his head in admiration and snapped his fingers. “We jumped over four light years, just like that.”
“Finch is a genius. Albert Einstein and Henry Ford in equal proportions. I mean… that thing was leaps and bounds ahead of its time. How he devised it… well... who knows? But, it got us here, and that’s what matters.”
“Though... a bit off target.”
“Just four million miles. What’s that in the grand scheme of things?”
They smiled in collective silence for a while before things became serious again. Alyn spoke first. “Given our predicament, I’ll assume this meeting will be one of official business?” Eleazar nodded in agreement. “Very well.” Alyn pulled back his sleeve and pressed in the top pusher of his wristwatch.
Eleazar said, “Well. As you know, we’re not out of the woods yet. Making landfall will prove to be difficult. Probably deadly.”
Alyn looked down and gave a series of knowing nods before he said, “Yeah. I do understand that.” He slowly looked back up and met the other man’s gaze. “Let’s hear your idea for how we get out of this mess.”
They talked for about twenty minutes before they embraced and said good-bye. Alyn leaned against the door frame and stared as Eleazar passed around the bend in the corridor, out of sight.
Click.
The door latch closed and he knew in that moment - whichever decision he came too - that he would never see his friend again.
Zzzz. Zzzz. The little red light on the intercom panel flashed in-step with its buzzer.
“Yes, Dara,” he said.
A reedy computerized voice replied; “The Dominus’s six Congress members have recorded their votes.”
He raised an eyebrow and held his breath. “And how did they vote Dara?”
“Six votes were cast in favor of the Proposal.”
Madness!
“Governor. You are required to register your vote to Congress no later than 00:00 Earth Time.” Alyn went completely still, as if he could turn himself invisible and they would all forget about him, but it was no good. After all, they had sent her to remind him of the futility of avoidance. Dutifully, Dara responded, “Governor?”
”Affirmative. I understand Dara.”
Driven by restless energy, he moved across the room and planted his hands on the window sill. Like twin pearls in a deep black ocean, two planets glowed softly in the sun’s cool bluish light. A deep urge had stirred inside him ever since he had first cast eyes on them two days ago.
Hope.
They had not had hope for quite some time and oh had they suffered from its lack, but like lime to scurvy, hope had reconstituted their spirits, straightened their backs, and squared their jaws and shoulders. Who was he to take that away from them?
He knew in that instant what decision he would make, though in truth, he always did, he just would not admit it to himself. But with the clock close to midnight, there was nowhere to hide, not from Dara, not himself, and not from those who would live with the consequences.
“Dara?”
“Yes.”
“Notify the others that I am ready.”
“Yes Governor.”
He stared back at the planets and spoke with a clear tone and measured cadence. “Governor Alyn Frederick reporting to the official log of Earth’s Own Ship Dominus on this 27th day of June, 2035 Earth Time.”
)
