A.E. – After Earth
I could hear the soft 'clunk' of my boots on the metal floors as I walked through the Colony. In a corner I could see a bunch of kids playing football with an old ragged leather ball. Something one of their parents had saved that day, probably their most prized possession; a memory from home. That's when I heard the news.
It's strange. All those sixteen years I had never gotten used to the place. Drifter Colonies were always sad places, anywhere in the universe. Just a bunch of old ships tangled together in a jungle of metal. And yet, I could hardly remember Earth. I don't think I ever had a home. Not until today. Because, when you have a home, you feel it, and I never did. That's why she left: to search for the home we never had.
It was a busy place, New New York. Ships came and went, bringing travellers from all over the galaxy. Whenever a ship docked, I remember, I used to rush up to see who had come, what they brought, listen to their stories from outer space. Sometimes even trade with them for fuel cells and plasma packs. Their favourites were usually my mum's frozen burritos. I guess the idea of being away of anything that could possibly remind them of Earth made them trade for almost any souvenir: a baseball, a plant, or maybe even a glass of water. They were homesick, sometimes not even having one.
My favourites were the pilots. That was my dream: to become a pilot. I had one friend, Akima, who would always show up once in a while; she was the best pilot of them all. In fact, she was the main pilot in the mission in search for the Titan, the one ship that could save us all. It was the Titan the Drej were after in the first place, for it was the most advanced ship in the world: it had the power to create a new planet. They feared we were getting too smart, so, on April 7th 3028, they destroyed Earth, hoping that life adrift in space would finally wipe us all out.
Throughout history, people never truly realised the importance of having a home. The way things were going, if the Drej hadn't blown up the planet, we would probably do ourselves. Some people never really gave much of a deal, even now some don't, but if any of those people knew what it was like not to have a home, maybe they would've valued their planet a little more.
Those 16 years, humans were treated as the scum of the universe. The few species who treated us as anything more were condemned for it. We were hunted down like animals by the Drej, even A.E. The Colonies never stayed in the same place. Sometimes we were in the middle of the Kalamina Nebula and others just a few keks away from Sesharimm. But it was no use. Every day (period of 24 hours, for there was hardly ever any sunlight we could be protected from), we heard news of some human killed by the Drej. These deaths ended up becoming no more than statistics with time, and there was nothing we could do.
My mother was one of those statistics, and even then it didn't seem to be any thing more tome. The little I new of my mother was carefully kept in a small chest under my bunk, and I hardly ever opened that, my own prized possession, my memory. The rest was the small phrase in my head: "Never let go, Aimi. Never let go." I was never quite sure what she was talking about. I always figured she meant the chest, for at the time I was too young to remember anything else. But now I start to understand that maybe it was hope she was talking about, the hope that maybe this day would come. She spent six years searching for the Titan, and died searching. I was five years old.
The day Akima came back, though it was only a few days ago, seems like a different world even. For, in truth, it really is. She was hurt, had been shot, but soon was up again. She had come with a friend, Cale. I later found out he was the son of the guy who built the Titan. They were very anxious, they said the Drej had found out where the Titan was hidden, and would destroy it if they didn't get there in time, except they didn't have a ship. The whole Colony was in an uproar. The Phoenix was a very old ship, and it was very improbable that it would ever fly again. But everyone pitched in and helped with something, and soon enough, they were launching. Those ten seconds of count down were probably the most exhilarating of my life: soon we would have a home.
I could hear the soft 'clunk' of my boots on the metal floors as I walked through the Colony. In a corner I could see a bunch of kids playing football with an old ragged leather ball. Something one of their parents had saved that day, probably their most prized possession; a memory from home. That's when I heard the news: a New Earth had been made! All the ships started their engines. People were packing. I just stood there, only to come back to consciousness when the kids' ball hit my arm. They made it! I could...I can hardly believe it. No, but I do believe it. Or no, maybe I'm just dreaming it or I need glasses. I see it. Home.
I could hear the soft 'clunk' of my boots on the metal floors as I walked through the Colony. In a corner I could see a bunch of kids playing football with an old ragged leather ball. Something one of their parents had saved that day, probably their most prized possession; a memory from home. That's when I heard the news.
It's strange. All those sixteen years I had never gotten used to the place. Drifter Colonies were always sad places, anywhere in the universe. Just a bunch of old ships tangled together in a jungle of metal. And yet, I could hardly remember Earth. I don't think I ever had a home. Not until today. Because, when you have a home, you feel it, and I never did. That's why she left: to search for the home we never had.
It was a busy place, New New York. Ships came and went, bringing travellers from all over the galaxy. Whenever a ship docked, I remember, I used to rush up to see who had come, what they brought, listen to their stories from outer space. Sometimes even trade with them for fuel cells and plasma packs. Their favourites were usually my mum's frozen burritos. I guess the idea of being away of anything that could possibly remind them of Earth made them trade for almost any souvenir: a baseball, a plant, or maybe even a glass of water. They were homesick, sometimes not even having one.
My favourites were the pilots. That was my dream: to become a pilot. I had one friend, Akima, who would always show up once in a while; she was the best pilot of them all. In fact, she was the main pilot in the mission in search for the Titan, the one ship that could save us all. It was the Titan the Drej were after in the first place, for it was the most advanced ship in the world: it had the power to create a new planet. They feared we were getting too smart, so, on April 7th 3028, they destroyed Earth, hoping that life adrift in space would finally wipe us all out.
Throughout history, people never truly realised the importance of having a home. The way things were going, if the Drej hadn't blown up the planet, we would probably do ourselves. Some people never really gave much of a deal, even now some don't, but if any of those people knew what it was like not to have a home, maybe they would've valued their planet a little more.
Those 16 years, humans were treated as the scum of the universe. The few species who treated us as anything more were condemned for it. We were hunted down like animals by the Drej, even A.E. The Colonies never stayed in the same place. Sometimes we were in the middle of the Kalamina Nebula and others just a few keks away from Sesharimm. But it was no use. Every day (period of 24 hours, for there was hardly ever any sunlight we could be protected from), we heard news of some human killed by the Drej. These deaths ended up becoming no more than statistics with time, and there was nothing we could do.
My mother was one of those statistics, and even then it didn't seem to be any thing more tome. The little I new of my mother was carefully kept in a small chest under my bunk, and I hardly ever opened that, my own prized possession, my memory. The rest was the small phrase in my head: "Never let go, Aimi. Never let go." I was never quite sure what she was talking about. I always figured she meant the chest, for at the time I was too young to remember anything else. But now I start to understand that maybe it was hope she was talking about, the hope that maybe this day would come. She spent six years searching for the Titan, and died searching. I was five years old.
The day Akima came back, though it was only a few days ago, seems like a different world even. For, in truth, it really is. She was hurt, had been shot, but soon was up again. She had come with a friend, Cale. I later found out he was the son of the guy who built the Titan. They were very anxious, they said the Drej had found out where the Titan was hidden, and would destroy it if they didn't get there in time, except they didn't have a ship. The whole Colony was in an uproar. The Phoenix was a very old ship, and it was very improbable that it would ever fly again. But everyone pitched in and helped with something, and soon enough, they were launching. Those ten seconds of count down were probably the most exhilarating of my life: soon we would have a home.
I could hear the soft 'clunk' of my boots on the metal floors as I walked through the Colony. In a corner I could see a bunch of kids playing football with an old ragged leather ball. Something one of their parents had saved that day, probably their most prized possession; a memory from home. That's when I heard the news: a New Earth had been made! All the ships started their engines. People were packing. I just stood there, only to come back to consciousness when the kids' ball hit my arm. They made it! I could...I can hardly believe it. No, but I do believe it. Or no, maybe I'm just dreaming it or I need glasses. I see it. Home.