I sit in the observation dome, knowing it is the last time that I shall do so. This has been my haven. My retreat. I have come to this place when I was drowning in self-doubt. When my faith wavered, and I was frail and terrified that I wasn’t worthy of being chosen for such an immense responsibility.
Here, looking out at the universe, I drew sustenance. In this place I was able, somehow, to summon enough courage to meet the challenge. Even if only for one more day. But it carried me through.
As the Prophets had said it would. Back in the beginning, before their language became that of the universe.
I so desperately wish I could appreciate the profundity of their words and utterances. But I fear they’ve fallen so deeply into the universe, that our frail and stumbling brains can no longer comprehend. This saddens me, for I am desperately envious of the Truths they now understand.
Sometimes they sing.
Used to be they’d sing in a sort of unison, now it’s only occasional, and one at a time.
We’ve tried to record their songs. Learned the words to the early ones. Today we will sing their “ecstasy” song as we leave Deck Three. Depart the womb where we have gestated for these last ten years.
Everything goes back to procreation, be it peoples or individuals. Figurative birth. Literal birth. Life and death.
Sex is the inverse of death. Like Siamese twins, one cannot exist without the other. Opposites crossed. The divine reconciliation of opposites.
The universe laughs.
In the background I can hear the Irredenta. Excitement fills their voices. There is banging, the sound of crates being slid across the sialon deck. The preparations have been going on for hours. Kalico Aguila sent a list of things for them to do. Orders. Bring this, don’t bring that. Wear shoes or boots. Hats are necessary. A long list of reasons for the above had been included.
We have no way of knowing what might be true or what might be a lie. Being Corporate, whatever she tells us is probably a lie. What we do know is that the universe has brought us this far. It has taught us that we can only depend upon ourselves and the Prophets.
The universe will provide. We will continue to live with that faith and take with us only what we can carry.
I gave the order based upon something the Prophet Callista said a couple of nights ago. Sounded like, “Taaa whaaa ya c . . . c . . . carree.”
Take what you can carry?
So often, I can only guess. But for the most part, the universe has backed my guesses. None, so far, have been proven horribly wrong.
Given that three hundred and forty-two people once lived here, that’s a lot of possessions. Why the universe wants us to leave so much behind is beyond me, but it is not my place to question.
Somewhere in the background I hear a crash. Perhaps a shelf has collapsed or been torn down?
Cackling laughter breaks out from one of the children. They’re half manic with excitement. Born here, they’ve never known anything else. Deck Three is their world.
As Ashanti rotates, I see Capella III come into view: a green, blue, and brown globe with white polar caps, its oceans and continents brilliant in the star’s light. Within moments the terminator is visible like a black line through the middle of the planet.
Before I sleep again, we will be down there.
I catch a gleam of silver off to the right. Crane my head.
With a smile on my lips, I recognize the shuttle. Watch it close until it slips beyond the observation dome’s field of view.
I rise, tilt my head back, and whisper, “Thank you for the strength and vision to do what I must.”
I turn. Walk unsteadily out of the dome and into the chaos that is Deck Three. I see old belongings strewn about. Once-precious possessions too large or heavy to be carried. Not our concern. Let the Ashanti crew clean it up. A reminder of their original sin.
Many of these things will be missed in our new home. But then perhaps that is the lesson we’re supposed to take away with us. We will leave here humbly. Wearing nothing that so much as hints of hubris or vanity. As the living graves of the dead and vessels of their immortality, we go as near to naked as we can. No one has ever been born wearing clothes. This is our womb. The hallway to the shuttle shall be our vagina. The shuttle shall deliver us into the sunlight.
When we walk out into a new world, we shall be as infants.
And then the hard work really begins.