The night-time atmosphere was thin enough for the stars to shine without twinkling, although the object Imogen Breely focused on wasn’t a star. It was Earth.
The image swam and shook in the sighting scope before stabilizing and settling on the blue jewel.
She keyed her comm, “Chen, are you getting the feed down there?”
“Yes Professor, visual, radio, infra red. The full spectrum. Are you sure you don’t want me to do the scopes?”
“Yes, Chen, I’m sure. Stop worrying about me.”
“Please excuse me Professor. But you, I do not worry about. I believe you may live longer than the sun. But if something were to happen to you, I worry the council may leave me outside, in a storm, without a suit.”
Imogen laughed, the sound echoing slightly inside her helmet.
“Chen, at seventy, I have a few more years left, but not the few billion required to outlast our star. However, for you, I'll be careful.”
“Thank you. I have started recording. All the parameters are normal. You can come in anytime, please.”
“Soon, Chen, soon.” The comm fell silent and Imogen looked at the point of light that was Earth, remembering when she had lived there, and looked at Mars. Watching events unfold on the television screen.
“Are they really on Mars, daddy?”
“Yes, they are.”
“Can I go to Mars?”
“Of course you can, Immy. You’ll need to grow a bit, learn some science so you can do experiments.”
Which is exactly what she had done. Grown, and become a geologist, specialising in the inferred composition of extra-solar planets, and Mars.
Launching from Cape Canaveral had made her feel part of a space program which stretched back a hundred and fifty years. She’d wondered what those early pioneers would have thought about their rendevouz with a Chinese transport vessel, constructed entirely in orbit.
She went back to the telescope. She could have done this in the lab. But there was something special about using the focusing scope directly, a line that went all the way back to Galilleo.
Bending to the eye-piece she refocused on the small blue orb. Memories rose unbidden. Her graduation, the funeral of her parents, Jonathan’s proposal.
If any one thing had cemented her determination to come to Mars, it was Jonathan. His arrogant expectation that because he had a plumb job in the Lunar Territories US Embassy, she would give up her determination to get to Mars. As if they were comparable.
Yes, the lunar laboratories had been doing interesting research. But the moon would never be terraformed, would never become the second home for humanity.
Her work had been important then. Now the science done here would be the groundwork for a return to— Her comm pinged, “Yes.”
“Professor, you should come look at this.”
§
Chen was studying a screen, she peered over his shoulder, “What are we looking at.”
He pointed at a graph. “Readings, from the moon.”
She looked, leaning in closer as the implications became clear. “Have you checked these?”
Chen nodded, “I’m running the algorithm again right now. But I want you to check them. The raw data is in your work queue.”
She logged onto her terminal and began working. Her assessment agreed with Chen’s. The last moon base had collapsed, venting its atmosphere to space.
Chen was watching and, as she sat back, he perched on the desk next to her.
“Well?” He asked
“I get the same results.”
“That’s it then.”
“Barring a miracle, maybe a subterranean pocket. But it wouldn’t be viable long term.”
They were both silent for a moment, reflecting. Finally Chen spoke.
"Was anyone you knew personally still there?"
Imogen shook her head, "No, not for forty years or more. There was meant to be. Someone I once worked with was on the last shuttle off of Earth. That would be thirty years ago. But it wasn't allowed to dock on the Moon. I think Lunar Command was too scared of the infection making it into their ecosystem."
"What happened to them?"
She looked at Chen. Thirty years ago he would have been a child. Even now he was touched by youthful innocence.
"They plotted a course for the Large Magellanic Cloud, and boosted until the fuel tanks ran dry. Their final verbal transmission was about a week later. They programmed the shuttle to send location and direction details back once a month. We still pick them up.”
“I’m sorry Professor Breely."
"Don't be Chen, you weren't to know. Maybe Lunar Command made the right call. I mean, if that shuttle had carried the plague organism from earth, then everyone on the moon would have died long ago."
"Do you really think there is no-one left on Earth? Maybe they just don't have the capability of contacting us."
She shook her head, "Every report we had in the final weeks suggested some organism which attacked everything. Mammals, reptiles, birds, even cockroaches were killed. Someone screwed up and killed every form of animal life on Earth. No scan since has detected anything except plant life."
"In that case, Professor, you need to prepare for some media attention."
"What? Why?"
"Because once this news is made public, it wont take a huge amount of time for someone to work out that you are the last Earth-born person alive."
End
An original story and photograph by Stuart C Turnbull.