Stories
—
Isn’t It Pretty, Mommy?
Preface
We all experience a sense of awe and wonder upon seeing a shooting star.
Rarely do we consider what the spectacle might be like if we reverse the roles. What is it like to be the shooting star?
Today, let me tell you a story from the star’s point of view.
“Look mummy!”
She glanced in the direction of her child’s gaze. Fireballs streaked through the night sky.
“Oooh! Beautiful! Do you know what that is?”
“Falling stars?”
“It’s a meteor shower.”
“Oh mummy! Why didn’t you tell me? I thought we were going up the mountain to watch the next one.”
“We were,” she said, a curious concern nagging at her. She regularly kept watch on the calendar of celestial events, because her daughter had become so interested in them. The next meteor shower wasn’t to be observed for another few months.
“What is this one called, mummy?”
“I—I don’t know. Let me check.”
Suddenly her daughter was illuminated, cutting a shadow across the now bright lawn.
“Wow mummy, look at that big one!” she said, pointing up.
A massive ball of fire was tearing through the sky, dazzling them with daylight intensity.
Larry was sitting at his desk, headphones on, feet kicked back, eyes closed. God, he loved this job. Eight hours of getting paid to listen to silence.
His desk mate, Joe, sat up so fast he shoved the desk a few inches. “Holy shit, Larry, did you hear that?!”
“Yeah, it was nothin—”
And then Larry’s eyes got wide. He stared at Joe with a frozen stupor, as they both heard the incoming radio traffic.
One voice screamed, “Abort! Abor—”
Another overlapped, “Navigator, reverse course, immedi—”
And then, pandemonium. A flurry of frantic voices filled the air.
“Sir, we’ve miscalculated. This isn’t empty—”
“No, it can’t be—”
“Reverse course, damn it! Rever—”
“—miscalculated! Oh shi—”
Variations of this conversation played out by the dozens. Seeming to pop out of nowhere, the audio apparitions came and went, lasting only seconds.
Joe asked, “Are you . . . recording this?”
“Yes.”
“What’s happening?”
“I have no idea. What do you think they . . . miscalculated?”
As suddenly as the storm of sounds had started, it was over. An inescapable silence followed, larger and emptier than before.
Outside their window the sky began to twinkle with the light of a meteor shower.
Captain Ray was calmly pacing the bridge, bathed in red emergency lights, when he called out, “ARIA, status report.”
The AI answered, “Ship’s condition: critical. All crew evacuated. You need to leave now, sir.”
“Nav, confirm status of pods.”
“Sir, all escape pods are away and at the rendezvous point. Pod 72 primed and ready.”
“Good.” He turned to his remaining skeleton crew. Emergency lights accented the lines of fatigue on their faces. But there was also pride; they had saved the lives of the entire crew. He held back coughs against the growing ozone of burnt electronics, while he tried to maintain his composure. There was only one more thing to do. “Well done, crew. You’ve saved the lives of your comrades. Now let’s save our own. Let’s move! Masks on, and move deliberately, we don’t have time for mistakes.”
He turned to Garcia on the nav team, “Garcia, double check the coordinates once you are strapped in.”
“Yes, sir. Is . . . something wrong?”
The captain tried to smile against the toxic air burning his lungs. “I don’t want to leave anything to chance.” Doubt nagged at his mind, but he wasn’t going to demoralize the crew now. He added, “And I want to get you home safely to your little girl,” patting Garcia on the back.
“Yes, sir! Can’t wait to share stories of the stars with her.”
“Good man. Now let’s get everyone home.”
He finally let out the racking coughs as he ran after his crew to the escape pod.
As the captain was the last to strap in, he gave the command, “ARIA, release the pod!”
“It has been an honor to serve with you, captain,” said ARIA. “Releasing now.”
At that moment Garcia spoke up, “Captain! We may have a problem, it appears we’ve mis—”
And their pod jumped, folding space-time to a predetermined set of coordinates, a patch of empty space safe from any danger.
“—miscalculated! Oh shi—”
A massive ball of fire lit up the sky, dazzling them with daylight intensity.
Briefly, mom thought to run. But the large meteor broke apart into a spectacular cluster, threading a web of light across the sky. She knew it was safe. Beautiful, and safe.
“Wow, mummy, isn’t it pretty?”