We were the objects of our own destruction.

Our greed destroyed our planet. We stripped it of everything we could, consuming it all and leaving nothing behind. Nothing but poisoned air, poisoned earth, poisoned water. Then we fled. We took to the skies and beyond foolishly looking for more to conquer.

At first we seemed to rule the universe. Consumed by consuming, high on our greed, we continued to take for ourselves. Filling ships and stomaches to bursting leaving our waste to clutter the skies of the planets we left behind.

And then it ended.

We had painted a target on our backs and all eyes turned toward us. Parasites we were. A scourge from the skies. A blight to be wiped out.

They almost succeeded. If it had not been for the few who had seen in time. Turning their backs on family and friends, they pleaded for sanctuary.

**

His parents had named him Terran. It felt like a painful joke each time it was spoken. He didn’t even know how many generations had passed since their ancestors had left that barren rock called Earth behind. Life in space was all he knew, all his parents knew. Life on a spacecraft only ever seeing planets as balls in the never ending sky. None of them a home.

Not that it was a cruel existence. It was peaceful. Their clothing was sturdy and warm. The food they ate was nourishing and everyone had enough. And the Dulaioong they served were kind. But Terran felt a weight had been placed on him from which he could not escape.

A life of penance. That’s what it was. Paying for the sins of his ancestors by serving whomever would accept their service. Terran knew that there was no way to reach redemption. And yet his parents had named him after the very thing for which they spent their lives paying for.

He tried to push those thoughts out of his mind, as futile as it was. Pushing his blanket aside, he slid open the door of his bunk, slipped his feet into his shoes, and climbed down past his neighbours. Only Annie was awake. Terran looked into the ancient woman’s eyes and saw her cheeks crinkle as that familiar smile crept across it. She always had a smile for him. Sometimes she would reach out to grasp his hands and a tear would trickle down her cheek. Ever since he was a young boy, old enough to move from the bunk he had shared with his parents, Annie had greeted him this way. The other kids thought it was funny. They swore she was two hundred years old and had finally decided on a boyfriend after all that time. Terran had tried to avoid her at first, but that ancient stare always felt like a warm spark of life, and he could not survive a single day without it. His mother said that Annie had gone quiet the day he was born. She was already old and frail, but word was that the moment he first cried she laughed with joy and then grew silent.

Everyone cared for Annie. Bringing her food, bathing her, helping her sit, and staying to talk with her. Only Terran saw her smile. He kissed her fragile cheek. Her skin was so thin he could see the tiny veins underneath. And not for the first time he wondered if she would still be there when he returned at the end of the day.

Terran placed his hand on a little panel set into the wall across from Annie’s bed. The hatch beneath it opened and he retrieve the warm square of food it dispensed. He ate it on his way down the aisle. When he was younger it was too easy to get lost here. Bunks five high, and ladder every second row, ever fourth bottom bunk double wide to fit a couple with a young child. Terran couldn’t understand how anyone could bear to bring a new life into this, but he supposed that the desire for their species to survive was too strong for some to resist. He didn’t want to risk it. Not that anyone had grabbed his attention. He focused on his tasks for the day with a singular intensity. If his was to be a life of penance, then he was going to give it his all. One day he would lay down in his bed and whatever deity was in control would allow him to fade away like the dying light of a star. He wished that some god would take pity on Annie and allow her to breathe her last.

Stepping into the bath module he closed the door and undressed. A tub of lightweight spheres awaited him. Terran lowered himself down until they covered him completely. He could feel the nanites that clung to the spheres scrub away at him until he was clean. Snipping away hair and skin so that a minimum of dust would be created to clog the air scrubbers during his day. Listening to the distant hum of the engines quieted his mind. He rose from his bath, put on a clean shirt and pants, slipped back into his shoes and sighed. Another day begun.

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