Vigil

Standing at my console looking out on the immensity of space in front of me I wonder what it must have been like. Did they see the first flash? Was there enough time for them to experience the searing fires that symbolised the ultimate failure of mankind?
I am of a Christian nation, never really had the faith myself, but I grew up surrounded by its' trappings. Fire had always symbolised the path to redemption, our sins and wrongdoings purged by the cleansing flame.
There was nothing cleansing about those flames though. Hot enough to rival a sun they merely destroyed. One after the other expanding in bright circles leaving behind smaller fires still burning hot enough to emit a light that could be seen at my distance.

I had to admit, though it shames me greatly, my first reaction upon realising what those flares below me were, was purely selfish. What would happen to me now that the people tasked with bringing me home had surely died?
We had played a game you see, when I passed overhead (about once a week) I would wave and they would pretend to see me. That little scenario was one of the highlights of my week. I knew that terrain like the back of my hand, I bore witness to the flash that claimed it and irrevocably altered the landscape. In about three hours time it'll pass underneath again but I won't look this time. The rolling hillside resembles a frozen ripple marring the surface of a lake more than anything and it nauseates me.


Did they know what was happening? Were they aware of the shockwave traveling towards them?

The ocean is below me now. On a clear day I imagine swimming in that clear blue gem. The soft caress of balmy Mediterranean waves soothing my worries and preparing me for whatever trials await.

How hard it is to resist the melancholy grip of despair. I must continue though. My world has been depopulated in the useless pursuit of political agendas. Perhaps the acquisition of regional power was important yesterday. Today though, there's nobody left to care, just me and my vigil.
It's kind of sad how these things affect you. I mean so many people have died. So man I can't grasp the meaning of the number, far better to say everyone. Still I can't get my mind around it. Then smaller things seep through my incomprehension. No more chats at the coffee shop, parties at my place, friends faces flash by one at a time till her face fills my mind. I force the picture away, therein lies madness.



I've heard it said that you can be in a room full of people and still alone. What if there will never be people in that room again? What then?


Were they warned of the impending doom? Did someone advise seeking shelter, keeping the pretense that someone might survive? Bastards!

You don't build something you aren't going to use. Eventually someone makes a mistake.






It's very quiet up here. Without the sounds of mission control all I can hear is the oxygen recycler and my own breathing.




I was going to ask her to move in with me you know...



I feel so selfish, all these people die and I, through a quirk of fate, not only survive but get to see the fireworks and all I can think about is how long it has been since my radio said something. I tried it the other day, sent a greeting out into the ether hoping that someone would answer, knowing it impossible. No reply of course. They said I had a charmed life, like there was a guardian angel watching over me. I always pictured her floating over me in times of trouble translucent and bathed in a soft white light that cloaked rather than revealed. I feel her constantly these days, watching me, making sure I don't do anything stupid.






I wonder if the fish, deep down in the ocean were affected. I saw some bursts over the water, I hope the poisons don't kill the sea as well. All life comes from the sea you know. If only I could speed up the process.


She spoke to me today. Said that I had to hold back the despair. She told me that she wasn't really supposed to talk to me directly but she would stay watching till I was rescued. I'd best not include that in my report, people might not understand, jealousy is a terrible thing.



I try not to sleep anymore. Those hours are a terrible burden. It turns out that they have agents even out here and at night they try to dig her name out of my mind. I'm on to their tricks though and so I stay awake.








The worst has happened! I was instructing the sea people on how to learn breathing and they caught me unawares. I think they know her name and I don’t know what to do.


There's a suit in the storage area. She says that the sea people have offered us asylum. It seems like our best bet. Time to make a run for it.