Seven

It was beautiful, like a car crash, or a gunshot wound.

We watched through the portholes, seven ashen faces attached to seven trembling bodies. Johannsen pissed himself. I didn’t blame him; I barely controlled my own bladder. Izumi started to cry, those deep, hitching, gasping sobs that you’d expect from a child who just broke their favorite toy.

McMasters started praying. I thought about how foolish that was, given the circumstances. But if there was a God or somebody to heed those prayers, the line to be heard just got a hell of a lot shorter.

We’ve been here for a year. The most prestigious assignment ever: the world’s first permanent lunar station. We seven were chosen, vetted, trained, poked, prodded, tested; then they did it all a second time, and a third. We loved it. We were honored beyond words, the chosen few to make history.

It was a cooperative effort, like the ISS. Nations cutting through red tape and centuries of war to shake hands and work together to benefit humanity as a whole. It was awe-inspiring. Magical and rare.

A week before, we got the message. Hard not to, almost every channel turned into a news channel overnight, playing the same headline all day everyday: Comet Set to Impact Earth.

Big fucker too. Extinction event. No time to stop it. Don’t know why they didn’t see it sooner.

Suddenly, nothing mattered anymore. And we watched, like carrion beasts at the slaughter, waiting for our turn to gorge ourselves.

Like a flower it blossomed, and half the earth just vanished. The other half broke into countless pieces and went floating off into space.

And just like that seven billion dwindled to seven.

There are three women and four men here. There would’ve been a chance to repopulate, except for one tiny detail.

Without the earth to bind us, we’re just another rock drifting aimlessly through space. It’s cold all the time, and the temperature is steadily dropping.

We voted today. Four to three. Democratic to the end.

I wish there could be a better chronicle of humanity, a better testament to who we were and what we accomplished. But even if this somehow survives whatever fate our former Moon is destined for, it could never be enough.

So there’s this: There used to be a planet called Earth. It was populated by humans and other odd creatures. We are the last, and instead of wasting away and suffering, we have decided to step into the airlock together and evacuate ourselves into space.

And that’s all you really need to know about us.

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