"Mankind’s place in the universe will never be the same, and our continued existence will never again be dependent upon that of a single fragile planet. We will make the stars our home."
“Very few among us remember the Epiphany event,” The Captain observed, projecting his voice to ensure that all attention returned to him. “I myself was only a child. Some more among you may remember the years of darkness that followed—a decade and a half of cold and night before we once again saw the sun and the stars.”
There were nods and murmurs among the crew.
“This first step, in which the company for which we all work cleared the sky from its shroud of darkness, was only the beginning,” Carter continued. “No sooner had we seen the stars again than we made up our minds that nothing would prevent us from reaching them, and doing it soon.”
The statement was accompanied by the movement of his slender hand lifting upward toward the stars shining in the window close behind him and closing, as if grasping some invisible fruit. “First the moon, then Mars and beyond. Freed by sparsity from the tyranny of war, united by scarcity to a common cause, humanity set its sights on ensuring that no calamity, however large, could ever again threaten the totality of our race.”
Again, there was a rustle of murmured agreement among the listeners. The captain’s eyes, moments ago dull with the boredom of routine, now possessed a spark of inspiration. Lamont felt certain that the speech was unrehearsed.
“This very day, on the 50th anniversary of the event, we take a giant leap toward that goal: Humanity’s first footfall on an extrasolar planet. There is no telling what we may find on the surface of this world…” He dropped his arm to gesture downward toward the dark mass of the planet to which the ship was now tethered. “...Whether it will prove to be a waypoint for discovery, or a post for settlement. But one thing is certain: Mankind’s place in the universe will never be the same, and our continued existence will never again be dependent upon that of a single fragile planet. We will make the stars our home. In years to come, Epiphany will no longer be remembered solely as a tragedy. It will be a reminder. That by striding bravely through the deepest expanse of blackness, mankind will always find its way to the brightest lights.”
Carter paused dramatically. It seemed that he was expecting applause, but if so, he failed to recognize that the gravity of the occasion he had usurped would make the sound of clapping seem perverse. Instead, his eyes probed the room as some crew members nodded in approval, while others exchanged uncertain glances. Meanwhile, Milo and Amila, having briefly exited the cafeteria, now returned, the pneumatic hiss of the sliding doors announcing their return in the silence.
The captain cleared his throat. “Mr. Spratt, if you will do the honors.”
The chief technician nodded from where he stood behind the serving bar, his thick glasses emotionlessly reflecting a hundred points of light. He tapped a button on a small remote control that had been held behind his back. All eyes turned toward the observation windows where, from the front of the ship, the two metal canisters were ejected into space with a trail of white smoke. Several heartbeats passed, and then the points of space into which the canisters had disappeared exploded into silent blooms of red and white. Hundreds of tiny embers burned brightly as they drifted slowly toward the planet, soon flickering out among the cold audience of stars.
Next: Old Mistakes