The smell of burnt toast made Glen smile. Must be Carrie at it again trying her hand at breakfast. The alarm clock beeped.
“Alright, alright. I’m up.”
Glen motioned to get up. Restraints clamped him back down. He opened his eyes. Red light pulsated through thick smoke. Glen coughed and wafted smoke out of his face.
“Oxygen critical. Oxygen critical.” The robotic female voice boomed throughout the small cockpit.
Glen reached under his seat for the fire extinguisher. But the fire was almost completely dead. It had eaten up most of the oxygen, leaving behind white plumes of smoke. His fingers ran along the command console. Nothing worked. Backup power had been damaged. Life support on its last legs. Glen grabbed his suit's helmet and clamped it on. Fresh air swirled around his head. He reached for the red emergency exit lever.
Glen stumbled out of the craft. The rear fuselage had crumpled, absorbing most of the impact. All supplies destroyed. He kicked the hull of the spaceship. A pain shot up his leg.
“Goddammit.”
Glen clenched his teeth and balled his fists. He punched the damaged hull.
“Piece of shit.”
He regretted the outburst, having consumed more oxygen than necessary and now feeling every ache and pain from the crash. He twisted his torso and stretched out his arms. Sore, but serviceable. His temples throbbed. He read the atmospheric gauge on his suit—too much carbon dioxide to be breathable.
“Ground control. Glen reporting in. Copy.”
Radio static. Neon blue translucent grasslike nodules stretched beyond the horizon in all directions. Glen craned his neck behind him. Nothing back there but blue and moon. Was it the moon?
Glen remembered blast off and leaving the atmosphere. A resupply mission to Mars. Maybe a one-way ticket but hopefully not. He needed to see her again. At least one more time.
“Baby, the stars look funny tonight.” Carrie lay beside him on the rough red and black checkered blanket.
The night sky looked stretched out with stars smudged against its black canvas.
“Scientists say it’s some strange weather phenomenon.”
Glen knew it was a wormhole. It had all the characteristics of one. But he didn’t want to frighten her.
“Isn’t that going to delay your mission?”
That’s why they’re sending me up there. He wanted to say it, but couldn’t.
He rolled on top of her. She giggled.
“Don’t worry about me, darling. I’ll be fine.”
He kissed her.
“Ground Control. Anyone out there?”
Faint static—the soundtrack to a leisurely walk in a field of grass. Glen read the oxygen gauge on the old spacesuit. At least it was retrofitted with the latest gizmos, care of Space Corp. Cheap bastards.
The fields—alien, yet familiar. He thought back to the rolling fields of his youth. Running through them for hours, back at his dad's place. One day he had cut his foot on some broken glass, buried deep in the grass.
“I’m sorry, daddy.”
He wasn’t sorry. Dad bandaged him up, then gave him a spanking. But he was back in those fields in no time. When faced with an obstacle you push through. You don’t quit.
He walked through the alien fields. He looked behind—the craft was now far off in the distance, its silver hull illuminated by the moon. Glen made his way up to the top of a small hill. He could figure this place out from there. He breathed heavy. The oxygen gauge had reached 50%.
“Glen here. Good ol' Glen. Hellooo.” His voice started to sound strange. The static in his helmet crackled.
He thought back to Buddy. The dog whined as Glen packed up the last of his things. Buddy knew he was going away—dogs seem to have a sense of those things.
“I’ll miss you, Buddy.” Glen ruffled his coat and kissed the top of his head.
The dog’s sad eyes looked at him through the window. Carrie was waiting in the car to take him to Ground Control.
Glen kicked at the roots of the grass. His foot flared up in pain.
“Stupid fucking grass.”
He started swinging his arms at the blades. They only bounced back into place. He took one deep breath and continued up the incline.
He reached the top of the hill. Behind him, the spaceship was a dot on the horizon. Ahead, a structure off in the distance that looked like some kind of silo—its metal cylinder standing proud amongst the blue rubber grass. Glen picked up his pace.
Carrie. She didn’t want him to go but she understood what it meant to him. Together for three years and they were only starting to get sick of each other. That has to be true love, when after so long, you’re only a bit tired of each other’s crap. He wanted to really get sick of her shit, grow into old age, but he pushed the thought out of his mind. He’d be happy to live a few more hours at this rate.
An alarm sounded in his suit. Oxygen down to 15%.
“I love you,” Carrie had mouthed the words as she stood on the other side of the thick glass.
“I know,” Glen had mouthed back.
He looked back once. She waved, he waved back and fought back tears. She didn’t know about the wormhole—most of the general population didn’t. But he knew, and he knew that Space Corp knew. His suit had way too much retrofitted communications gear. They give him a crap suit with all the bells and whistles. A god damn guinea pig sent into a wormhole.
The oxygen alarm droned. The silo was coming into view. There was text splayed on it.
Property of Space Corp.
Glen slumped down to the ground. The blue blades gently cushioned him. He turned off the radio and the oxygen alarm. Complete silence. He stared up at the sky. There were so many stars. Like being back there in the fields. Like being back there with Carrie on that rough checkered blanket. Sweet Carrie. And Buddy, the best friend any spaceman could ever want. Glen felt tears on his cheeks. But he smiled. He could see them running across the fields together, through the smudged stars. He closed his eyes for the last time.
This was my entry for a sci-fi contest over at the Writers' Block fiction workshop. Unfortunately, it didn't make it to the next round but thank you to those who made editing suggestions.
The art that inspired the story:
Image Source
This had me so hopeful he'd make it for that walk to the silo, @cizzo and then you go and do that. Not cool, sir, not cool at all. sigh But lovely work, on your part, of course. :-)
Perhaps I took a page out of your book @authorofthings, set 'em up and knock 'em down :)
But seriously, thank you for the kind words, it does mean a lot coming from an excellent writer such as yourself.
Your story is solid, well written, and hard hitting.
Everyone knows I hate sad endings. I hate nihilism. (Gotta fight it daily to keep my head above water.) I don't "want" happy endings; I require them. Evil Corporations letting employees die - too depressing for anyone who reads and hears what's going on in the world. But you are not alone! You are in a MAJORITY, and this kind of thing SELLS. I'm the wee small voice in the wilderness, shouting into the wind, "Enough of the sad stuff!"
Inna gets away with it only because her prose is so poetic, so visceral, so beautiful.
Your prose is fine, and with a bit of polishing, it could shine like a master's.
A TORTURE master.
Authors are sadists!
Thank you for the encouraging words @carolkean.
I didn't set out to make it sad, that's simply how the story and character developed as I mulled over the artwork/image. I love short stories for allowing one to delve into other realms, I probably would never want to kill off a main character in a longer piece. And I've got some lighthearted and silly shorts as well, promise!
I shall be watching :-)
I've read it holding my breath entire time. Good one :)
I like it even though it's sad.
Thanks @zneeke. Glad you liked it man :)
Oh gosh! This is so heart felt, nihilistic yet perfectly serene. Definitely glad you posted it!
Thank you @caleblailmusik! I'm glad that stuff came across as I was mainly using the image for inspiration.
Darn! I was hoping he would make it! :( Like a rescue team would come out of that silo, or something like that...
Thank you for reading @ackhoo. Glad you were invested in the character and rooting for him. I promise the next story I post won't be as sad :)
I very much enjoyed the pace of this story. Upon first read, I figured the wormhole had merely transported him far ahead in time (but to the same planet of departure). Then I figured the wormhole may have transported him to an alternate dimension/different version of his planet of departure. I am not certain which best aligns with wormhole theory...
I would assume the latter since there seems to be various instances in the story hinting that the physics of this place is a bit out of whack: the way he kicks the grass and it bounces back into place; the way the spaceship seems to recede unusually quickly into the horizon as he walks.
Thank you for taking the time to read it and think about it @cbrayst.
I like to leave things up to interpretation and both your proposed theories are plausible. High CO2 levels, over a long period of time, could potentially have a bearing on Earth's inhabitants and plant life.
Thanks again :)
Congratulations! This post has been upvoted from the communal account, @minnowsupport, by cizzo from the Minnow Support Project. It's a witness project run by aggroed, ausbitbank, teamsteem, theprophet0, someguy123, neoxian, followbtcnews, and netuoso. The goal is to help Steemit grow by supporting Minnows. Please find us at the Peace, Abundance, and Liberty Network (PALnet) Discord Channel. It's a completely public and open space to all members of the Steemit community who voluntarily choose to be there.
If you would like to delegate to the Minnow Support Project you can do so by clicking on the following links: 50SP, 100SP, 250SP, 500SP, 1000SP, 5000SP.
Be sure to leave at least 50SP undelegated on your account.
Great story. I like that it ended in a less than 'happy ending' manner. The story up to that point read well, and it needed an impactful ending to seal the deal. To me you accomplished that.
Thank you for the kind words @naquoya, and glad you enjoyed the ending.
If chosen it will feature in a curation post by @MuxxyBot.
An image from your post may be featured.
Please reply to this comment if you accept or decline.
Definitely! Thank you @negativer
Congratulations. This post is featured in this week's Muxxybot Fiction Curation post.https://steemit.com/curation/@muxxybot/muxxybot-fiction-curation-15
Thank you @muxxybot, good bot.
I have included your post in a new curation post called The Library.
I'm looking forward to reading more of your stories.
Thank you @naquoya! I checked it out and it's a great initiative for steemit writers, look forward to reading your selections.
Nice one, Cizzo!
Gotta love a sad ending :)
Thanks John! :)
Nice story. I enjoyed the ending, and think it was the right way to go. It's kind of a melancholy piece, and as such the ending felt right and held more of an emotional impact.
Thank you @shawndove. Glad you enjoyed the ending and felt it tied into the whole piece :)
Just read this again and wish I could upvote it one more time.
Dang Jon, that is high praise. Thank you kindly.