The Last Hour

This one's a short, short story for Shaastra 2009. There was a 1000 word limit and the topics were already provided, so well..

Hundreds of sobbing, drenched, filthy people filled the pit. As the last of the ships rose shakily into the murky sky, a collective wail rose from the crowd. These were people whose thirst for life was far from quenched. They had work to do - businesses to run, knowledge to acquire, a whole life to live. They would not see another day alive.

She hadn't moved for hours. The light had long since gone out, and she could barely see the tips of her fingers. Still she sat motionless. Memories of a different Earth, one not as ravaged as the one she had grown to despise, filled her with unbearable longing. Resentment seemed quite pointless now. Ignoring the loud complaints of weathered joints and broken furniture, she made her way to the only window in the room. A dim light, almost ghostly to her morbid eyes, illuminated the streets outside. The scorched sky was filled with thousands and thousands of little lights. Laggards, who probably won't even make it to the Moon, she thought a touch cynically.

It was the day a surprised humankind woke up to a brutal reality. Their planet was going to be destroyed, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. It was an asteroid, a rogue, as several scientists dutifully explained, that had been deflected towards the Earth by the overpowering gravity of the giant planet Jupiter. Hardly anyone listened. It was an event that only occurred once in a billion years, the scientists added almost consolingly. Hardly anyone cared. Politicians whose petty inconsequentiality had never before thrown into such sharp focus, asked how long they had. Unwilling to commit, the scientists dithered. Five years it was.

She ambled through the empty streets aimlessly. The was no gentle hum of the evening crowd and no high pitched cries of excitable children; there was no one to be seen at all. Involuntarily, the mathematician in her tried to justify this observation – the number of people still left on the planet paled in comparison to the size of the Earth itself. Rows and rows of squat little brick buildings passed her by, with only the odd concrete and glass behemoth to break the monotony. It was interesting how everything's original purpose seemed to be blurred now. All that was left was a distinct sense of stagnation.


The squabbling stopped surprisingly quickly. The machinery of the world stuttered but did not stop. It simply applied itself to a different end. Some said everyone would be safe on the Moon. Others said nowhere in the solar system would be safe enough. As protecting the Earth was no longer a priority, they would build spacecraft from the soil itself. Vast swathes were carved out of the crust, and fused with artificial heavy metal cores to make stable little worldlets.

She approached one such pit. It was so big that its rim could not be discerned at all; only a practiced eye could have picked out the gently sloping contours. A heart rending whine cut through the howling wind. Squinting to see through the ever present dust, she discovered a puppy trying to shelter itself against the elements. Little paws scrabbled uselessly against the packed earth. She walked over, picked up the puppy and made inexperienced attempts at calming the wretched creature.

They said that there was not enough of the Earth to build spacecraft to evacuate everyone. The squabbling began once more. People were told that they were just as likely to die in space as on the ground. No one believed a word of it. Legislation was the next step – old, diseased people were quietly and firmly rejected permits, while multitudes of poor people did not even get to apply. Those who complained were reviled as evil people intent on destroying humanity's newly acquired unity.

It had become perceptibly brighter. She looked up into the sky and picked out the object that had caused everyone such pain. The asteroid was brighter than the brightest planet now, bright enough to cast the dim light that illuminated the dying planet. She had been one of those who had opposed the legislation. Having been one of the privileged few who had worked on the construction of the spacecraft, she knew that everything the politicians had said was a lie. There was enough space to accommodate everyone. She made valiant efforts to make herself heard, before ultimately rejecting her permit in protest, too battered and weary to continue. Her musings were interrupted by fresh cries from the puppy, who too seemed to have sensed change in the air. Extracting the last piece of chocolate from her trouser pocket, she gave it to the puppy.

They cracked the earth, and they scorched the sky. A perpetual layer of soot and dust remained behind as a dirty fingerprint of the action, as thousands of spacecraft ascended into an uncertain future. Animals were 'culled' as spacecraft resources were apparently not enough to sustain anything non-human. A handful of DNA samples was all that was retained of four billion years of evolution. Meanwhile, desperate people took to building their own spacecraft. Failed experiments left black scars on the tortured earth.

The asteroid did not relent in its inexorable approach. The thick air broke apart the now stronger light into many angular rays. A mild heat stung her skin. She found herself a handy little niche that protected her from the worst of the raging wind. The puppy slept blissfully in her veined arms. Memories of her family still assailed her, but their harsh rejection of her ideas and their subsequent departure, did not seem to sting quite so much now. A faint whine filled the air. Broken and lonely people, so far silenced by futility, seemed to have re-awoken to their predicament. It would not be long now. The puppy stirred, but only rolled over and continued to sleep. She closed her eyes.