The end was near. I could feel it more every day. Everyone could. My skin felt thinner, breathing was a little
more difficult, and the sky – even the air – had an unearthly orange tint. I could see it in everyone’s eyes; fear,
despair and barely tamped down hysteria.
It was as though humanity, or what was left of it, had managed to
reconnect through that ancient link. We all knew everything through this link
somehow, as if the coming obliteration of humankind had turned on some sensor
in our brains that had previously lay dormant. Now every nerve ending could
pick up the message from the universe pulsing around us like the beat of a
broken conveyor belt, slapping ever slower as the machine loses speed. It was as if the Milky Way itself were coming
unwound and spinning erratically off kilter through the stars coming to rest unspooled
in some forgotten corner of the universe.
Many had already died, and those of
us who were left walked aimlessly as though in a trance; butterflies with
broken wings fluttering along at the whim of the wind, vainly trying to stay
airborne. But even as it appeared we were going nowhere, there was a pattern to
our paths; an unseen force pushing us towards the same destination. As dry
leaves rattle and scrape against each other when borne on a chill fall wind, we
were piling up inexorably into a forgotten corner of Earth, rustling and
restless. We were slow trails of human
ants. But even as I moved forward I had the uneasy feeling that something was
out of place, missing. My brain was numb to sorting out the confusion in my
mind. All thought was instead focused on our destination.
It soon became clear. Strangely,
through that ancient link we had all realized it at precisely the same moment.
When the massive alien craft came into view and hovered near our location, we
moved as one accord, knowing that this would be the ticket off our dying planet
– a Noah’s Ark of humankind. And tickets we did receive. Officials handed them out at a gate, and I
wondered offhandedly how they came about their task. Where had they turned
their resume into? Who had hired them? But more importantly, how could they
decide who was a deserving ticket holder?
Like waiting for some perverse
Disney ride, we queued up and clicked through the turnstile one by one,
receiving tickets from scrutinizing gatekeepers. All the while the massive disc
hung suspended in the air, humming and flashing. An expectant hum of human
noise added to the vibrating undercurrent. As I inched closer to the turnstile entrance,
I began to notice another line next to our own, this one filled with weeping,
hysterical people that were being held back by the officials and the uneasiness
at the back of my mind flared anew. Who were these people undeserving of a
ticket? A moment of panic ensued when I wondered if I would be deserving; if
the gatekeepers would even let me through the turnstile, or decide that I was
in the wrong line.
At last it was my turn. I stepped up
to the official, my stomach in knots as I wondered if he would let me through
or relocate me to the line of hungry eyed non-ticket holders. A quick glance at
my face and he handed me a ticket, allowing me to pass. I moved quickly in case
he decided to change his mind and call me back. I joined the lines of human
ants, five wide, as they moved to the double wide gangplank that led to the
gaping maw that was the opening of the craft. Slowly, shuffling feet inched
forward. But there was no hurry now, no sense of impatience. We were the chosen
ones after all; our tickets were in hand. A strange hush was over us as we
prepared to board the ship; each person inside his own thoughts.
Even as I moved forward to board the
alien craft, the niggling on the edges of my consciousness continued. I
strained to remember, casting about in the dark corners of my mind for the
missing piece. A sound from the turnstiles below dragged my thoughts back into
focus. Looking down, the missing piece I had strained to find fell with a loud
and heavy clunk into my brain. There below me, struggling to fight past the
officials was a girl with no ticket in her hand – my daughter. A strangled cry
escaped me, and I turned back, shoving and pushing the masses of people coming
toward me. There was no more fear, no more questions for me about where I was
going and what my fate would be. Pushing and struggling through the people who
were planning to leave this Earth I wondered if they also had loved ones they
had forgotten about? Was the line with no exit those forgotten? Stumbling the
last few feet back to the turnstiles, I climbed over the one that had only a
few moments ago let me through to what I thought was freedom. Falling into an
embrace with my daughter, I felt the universe speed up again.
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