There are six of us left. A skeleton crew. The station our ancestors built, where we were born, the only home we know, is abandoned but for us. We’re the essentials tasked with getting everyone else out.
We gather in the bar for a final toast. The light of Tau Kaitos throbs blindingly through the view pane. “Star’s no longer stable,” we were told. “Time to evacuate.” That was a century ago. We put it off, hoping the star would settle down.
We have a 1-in-a-million chance to escape in time. But that won’t stop us from trying.
Henry lives behind the sheetrock. I picture him as a stodgy old codger. He often speaks to me. Sometimes, the volume of his voice is so low that I must concentrate very hard to hear him. Other times, he is totally out of control. Screeching...thin, shrill, papery and ear-splitting.
That is when the overhead fluorescent lights flicker, on-and-off, on-and-off. The bars on my window rattle and the plaster threatens to crack. But the room is sturdy and the walls are stable. Soon, he has no alternative but to calm down.
"Grant me freedom," he pleads.
"Ask again tomorrow."
Last Edit: Dec 2, 2020 12:05:52 GMT -6 by FoxxGlove