The Permanence Fallacy

T-minus 03:27:00

Amidst blaring alarms and flashing red ceiling panels, Garrett dodged the overhead swing from the guard and grabbed the surprised attacker's wrist as the electrified baton hit the floor. Wrenching the weapon away and striking with swift motion to the back of the neck, there was a sudden sound of crackling electricity. His opponent hit the floor with the momentum of the strike and the unconsciousness of an individual just hit with a couple thousand volts to the neck.

Mira caught up and, with her golden hair waving wildly in the air, landed a blow on another guard who had attempted to stand after being knocked down when they first began working through the force stationed to prevent their exit. "We need to get out there to make sure people actually heard the broadcast," she said.

Garrett responded with an exasperated motion towards the several unconscious guards behind them and the flashing red lights on the ceiling, "I think the message got out."

T-minus 22:00:00

Mira could see him emerging from the crowd around the bar, drink in hand from having just been served by one of the many pipes that emerged from the floor behind the counter. The regulars referred to these as the spring of their beloved "Dweller Spring". Catching his eye, Mira pointed toward a table with a sleeping patron right under an orange neon light in the shape of what appeared to be a poor attempt at a star.

"Knew our stars would cross again," Garrett remarked as he casually shoved the drunkard at the table to the floor. Stepping over the man, Garrett dropped into the newly vacated seat and motioned for Mira to sit.

Mira took a glance at the heap on the floor and smiled. "Garrett Deben, this isn't about us. The Network received worrying news and I need your help to see where the thread leads," she said while sitting down in the offered chair.

Garrett leaned forward and said, "Mira Vega, formality of your introduction aside, I don't care about your latest charity case."

Realizing the offense given, Mira quickly responded, "It's about the lottery, Garre". The lottery system was considered a secondary currency to coin. Each entry offered hope to the several hundred thousand residents pressed against the sea and the farmlands.

Mira added, "This is serious. Can we at least go outside? I can't think with all these random misters spraying the air and the obnoxious low-fi music. I don't get why you Foragers love this place."

Grimacing as if stabbed, Garrett retorted, "Hey, the drinks are cold, the misters refreshing, and the music is peaceful. You'd appreciate these finer things if you spent your days driving across an endless sea of sand and dirt to pick at the scraps of what our ancestors left us."

Eyes lowered, Mira placed the heart-shaped locket on the table and said, "Please, Garre."

Picking up the golden locket, Garrett instinctively pressed the latch to reveal the pressed marigold flower inside. Before joining the Forager crews, Garrett spent time working some of the remaining arable land that surrounded the city's outskirts. This rare specimen was the only survivor from one of the fields he had to plow.

It reminded him of Mira's passion for finding beauty amidst despair. He knew she would have spent hours picking up every last shredded petal stuck in the plow. Garrett was not that magnanimous, but he did save the one intact flower he could find.

Letting the nostalgic wave take him for a moment, Garett looked up from the locket and said, "What happened to us?"

"You lost hope and left for the wastes. Left me. But this isn't about us," Mira said as she placed her hand gently against his prematurely graying brown hair as he closed his eyes in acknowledgement.

"I need you, Garre. Please, be there for me one more time," Mira added as she moved her hand over his and the locket.

Garrett and Mira exited and walked over to the edge of the cliff overlooking the city below. Leaning on a railing at the edge, Garrett asked what warranted having to stand outside in the 104 degree summer night.

Twirling the locket in her fingers and gazing below, Mira said, "The launch tomorrow...I received a coded message from a trusted source within the Administration saying 'Fallacy, check communications'."

"Well, what do you want me to do about it? Talk to Administrator Altair myself? Garrett said with a wave of his hand toward the gleaming black metallic spire that served as the Administration's headquarters.

The Administration, headed by Administrator Altair, extended authority over Last Haven from the Spire, through its control of the lottery, and oversight of construction at the spaceport. The lottery was held in tandem with the construction of each new ship, a process that took approximately 3-5 years depending on how lucky the Forager crews were.

Generations past had left Last Haven with a series of fully automated manufacturing sites. All these facilities needed from the city's residents were a steady stream of inputs to carry out preloaded builds, including the spaceport and the creation of lottery ships.

"We're not a charity. Network advocates for those who can't work on crops, find maintenance work at one of the automated manufacturing sites, or risk the dangers of foraging. Children, elderly, families," Mira said as she gripped the rusted railing tightly.

Turning back toward Garrett, she continued, "I appreciate you donating your lottery entries, but we need to make sure those winners aren't actually victims tomorrow. Meet me by the southwest entrance to the Spire at T-minus four hours. Security will be light given the focus surrounding the launch and I already have a way in so we can check the communication link."

The Spire contained the only link with the last operational communication satellite with the colonies. Apparently archaic, the satellite could only transfer updated sets of trajectory data from the colonies to light the way for the lottery ships.

Garrett looked down toward the spaceport where he could see the massive gray ship rising from the center of the launchpad. Steam rose from beneath it to partly obscure the large "L-89" inscribed along the hull.

Sensing he was in, Mira concluded by saying, "My source is on the list of lottery winners, Garre. That's why I think he sent the message."

T-minus 03:32:00

Last received transmission: 2482.05.08

Last received transmission: 2482.05.08

Last received transmission: 2482.05.08

Visibly shaking, Mira whispered in shock. "It can't be right. This means there hasn't been a transmission from the colonies in 43 years. They've launched ships since then...ships to where?"

"Nowhere," said a smooth voice behind them. Both Mira and Garrett jumped at the sudden intrusion. Standing in the corner of the communications room was a tall woman with long black hair and an unnerving smile. Administrator Altair.

Leaning back toward the console behind her, Mira shakily asked, "Administrator Altair, what do you mean the Administration has been launching lottery ships without a credible signal from the colonies in 43 years?"

Crossing toward the open doorway in which she must have entered quietly only moments before, Altair raised an eyebrow up to her black slicked hair and continued in an eerily calm tone, "Satellite failure or lost colony. It honestly doesn't matter. A resolution is beyond our capabilities. What has mattered is continuation."

Altair then turned toward one of the terminals flashing L-89's countdown and said, "The lottery anchors us and creates the permanence humanity needs in order to keep our society intact. We use an approximated trajectory from previously transmitted data to guide the ships. A slight chance is better than none at all."

Squeezing Garrett's shoulder with one hand as she continued to lean backward against the panel behind her, Mira replied, "No, that's your twisted rationalization. You and your predecessors have murdered thousands of lives and squandered decades of potential time and resources in fueling this lie. You were afraid of stepping outside of the system left for us and finding a new way."

Turning back toward the pair and stepping away from the door, Altair responded with a shrug and said, "By all means, head toward the control room and attempt to stop the launch. That is, if you can manage to get past the guards I left in the hall. They'll put up more of a fight than these communication techs you knocked unconscious in here."

Dropping the worry that had been on her face and breaking into a laugh, Mira said "We don't need to go to the control room. You think I couldn't read the button that said emergency announcement system?"

Mira continued as she slowly raised her hand from the panel behind her, "You just shared the truth with all of LH. I wouldn't expect anyone in their right mind would get on that tin can now."

Pulling Garrett towards the door, Mira added, "Looks like we'll need your brawling skills after all, Garre. Bye Administrator, thanks for your candidness."

Taking one final glance before exiting the room, Garrett couldn't help but notice that Altair never lost that unnerving smile.

T-minus 02:50:06

Mira and Garrett couldn't believe what they were watching after pushing their way outside through Altair's token guard force. Despite some clear arguments sprouting amongst various groups of spectators and passengers having second thoughts. There was still an overwhelming majority of lottery winners lined up to start boarding the doomed ship.

Marching towards the line, Mira began shouting, "What are you doing? Didn't you hear it's a death sentence? We haven't heard from the colonies in decades!"

"Your efforts have been wasted," the familiar smug voice echoed from behind. Mira and Garrett turned back toward Altair, flanked by a few bruised Administration guards. Striding forward and motioning towards the line leading to the spaceport, she elaborated, "It's simple, you just highlighted something they all already knew. The journey is a risk."

Altair continued as she leaned down to pick up a handful of reddish earth, "You've offered nothing as a replacement. It's in our nature to reject a reality in which humanity cannot persist against any obstacle."

Throwing the handful of dirt at their feet with a sudden burst of maliciousness, Altair spat out, "I refuse to accept that this is all that's left to us. Failed colonies, lost technology, and a dying planet."

Pressing a few errant black streaks of hair back, Altair recomposed herself and declared, " My guards will allow you to leave and go back into the city to wallow in your failure. That's punishment enough."

T-plus 78:15:00

Mira stood with Lost Haven to her back and the endless red sea of sand preceding the barren mountains stretched ahead. She used to look at those mountains as the skeletal fingertips of a dying husk reaching toward their last salvation, space.

"Everyone's ready to head out, Petal. I still can't believe Altair let us go, but I don't imagine we'll be a thorn in her side for much longer," Garrett said as he stepped next to Mira and held her hand.

Opening the locket around her neck to reveal the pressed orange flower, Mira responded, "Last Haven is a miraculous example of survivalism. There must be others. We've just lost sight of that by desperately keeping the lottery system alive for generations, especially after losing contact."

Squeezing Garrett's hand and looking up towards the mountains again, Mira added, "The real hope lay with what we have here. Not the promises of what awaits us up there. There are more marigolds to find."