Final Countdown.
“This move will be a fresh start,” Ryan said, as he stared out through the porthole, in their cabin. The once red planet now a superheated landscape, heaped with industrial waste, and enveloped in a thick cloud of noxious, chemical vapor.
“Baby thinks so too,” Celeste said, as she reached for Ryan hand, and placed it on her swollen belly.
“A fresh start, for all three of us,” Ryan smiled, as he felt the baby kick.
Ready for lift-off.
The fuselage vibrated, as the interplanetary spacecraft threw off the planet’s gravitational pull. In the vacuum of space, the engines stilled to silence. Ryan and Celeste removed their helmets. Breathed deep.
***
Holding Pattern Commenced.
“So bleak,” Celeste said, as they approached a grey planet, and its rocky satellite.
Pitted and scarred. Plundered beyond salvation. Long ago abandoned.
“I guess when the resources ran out, they just moved on,” Ryan said, as the spacecraft slowed in a series of right turns.
New prospectors. Tempted by the offer of land on distant planets, and a share in the wealth of the unsullied seams of rare minerals and precious metals.
Permission to join the Centaurus Superhighway Granted.
“I guess when there was nothing left, there was no reason to stay.” Celeste rested her head against Ryan’s shoulder, and together they gazed at the barren landscape, until the spacecraft gained momentum, and Earth, and its once great Lunar Colony, faded into the distance.
Maggie Fawcett lives on the North Yorkshire Coast, UK. When she is not writing, she can be found walking on the beach, or gazing up at the night sky.
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