At the End of Everything

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. It’s the same when you scream internally; no one hears you as you shatter. Waking up now was like that. She was alone, body a horror show of tubes and wires, and she tried to scream but couldn’t so much as croak out her terror. Blindly she started tearing out everything protruding so grotesquely from her body. The pain was blinding. She had to get out of this coffin, this tube of plastic and blood.

As she pulled the last tube free, pain and panic were coursing through her body, and she tried to cry out again, this time achieving a small whimper. The terror wove up from her chest and wrapped around her throat with sharp claws, cutting off all sound. She slammed her fist over and over on the plastic enclosure she was entombed in. Someone had to hear her. She had to get out here. She couldn’t breathe. Unable to even sit up, she started to hyperventilate, the edges of her vision grew dark, the vacuum of space started to overtake her, everything went black, she opened her mouth once more, and this time a scream ripped free from her throat and finally; finally, someone heard. Just before the darkness overtook her, there were two voices calling for help. Someone was here. She wasn’t alone. She wasn’t going to die alone. As she subcommand to the unconsciousness sweetly calling her name, that was her last thought; I’m not alone.

It’s said that when you die, you see a light, something, or someone to guide you to what’s next. That’s all bullshit. When you die, there is nothing but emptiness. Every sense you have, cut off. The only thing left is thought. Life doesn’t so much as flash before your metaphorical eyes as it bleeds together in one jumble of incoherent data. She knew there was a before. Before the tubes, before the enclosure, before the pain, but she couldn’t make sense of the before. There were people in these memories, this tangle of code her brain was trying to decipher. She had a family once, friends, a life. Somewhere with rain and cozy spaces. Nothing like where she died. She was dead, right? That’s the only explanation for the vast nothingness she was experiencing. No sight, no sound, no feeling, just numb darkness, and data.

The code rearranged, and she remembered an ending; what was the saying, “not with a bang but with a whimper.” The world had ended, and everyone had just kept buying iced coffees and vibing. The world had ended the way a movie ends. There are credits, maybe even a few after-credit scenes. You get lulled into thinking there is going to be more, and then suddenly, the screen goes dark, but this time the lights don’t come up; the darkness closes in until that’s all that’s left.

It wasn’t one thing that ended the world. It was everything all at once. Every consequence coming home to roost. The horsemen rode, and boy did they deliver on their monikers. War, Pestilence, Famine, and Death. They came to claim the world. They came as retribution. But, a select few knew they were coming. Had planned for it even; a ship. An ark? Did they really call it that? Gods, she hoped not. Could you imagine? That much Christian imagery at the end of the world would be more ironic than she could stand. But the horsemen, they were real, they were tangible, and no amount of iced coffee was able to hold them off.

Why was the code showing her this? Why hadn’t her brain died yet? She reached for more. A reason why she had died in a plastic tube screaming into the vacuum of space. Everything was out of reach. Then, like a burst of sunlight through the clouds on a rainy day, she was back in her body, but not her now body, her then body, the her she used to be. And just like those clouds parting on a rainy day, she felt hope for the first time since waking in hell.

“Hey Iliana, just take a seat anywhere, and I’ll be right with you.”

Iliana, Ana, that was her name. She had a name, an identity; she was real, something she had not been sure of until this moment. She tried to smile as she acknowledged the waitress, that knew her well enough to be on a first-name basis. She took in her surroundings as she made her way to a table. The building was old, with strong worn wooden beams that smelled of the last four hundred years. It was dark inside, but the kind of dark that wraps around you like a blanket and hides you from all the bad in the world. The walls exuded calm as she wandered to the back of the pub. Finding a table tucked away in the back corner, she took a seat and looked around her. It was raining outside from what she could see through the windows, and people shook off like dogs as they hurried in through the small front entrance.

Candles stood on every table, and she got lost in the flames. As her vision began to blur, so did the walls, and the people and everything started to melt away in a lazy way like ice cream on a summer day. She tried desperately to hold on, to stay in that warm, safe place where the waitress knew her name. Trying to stand, she swayed and grasped the table as a hand shot out to steady her. Looking up, she screamed as she was met with a face of dripping skin, bone, and blood.

Then, suddenly, nothing; no sight, no sound, no touch, no smell, no feeling. Total sensory deprivation once more. Maybe this really was hell. Maybe she had died, and this was her punishment.

No.

This wasn’t her.

She might not know much about who she was, used to be, or would be in the future but what she did know was that she wasn’t one to just give up. All this self-indulgent existential bullshit ended now. She was waking up. No matter what, she was waking up. She wasn’t dead, not yet, and she was about to make that a big problem for whoever had done this to her.

“How is she doing?”

“Not great. She should have woken up by now. There is nothing in her tests that indicate an underlying problem. Once the shock wore off, she should have woken up.”

“Is it even possible for her to die?”

Small things started coming back first, the sound of beeping, a chill, a twitch, the scratch of fabric, and the feeling of hope. She focused on the chill first, forcing her body to turn into it, wrap around it and hold it hostage against her chest. Ice wove around her in a dance as it prodded her awake. Next, the beeping, the low, insistent beep beep beep of her heart, alive, she was alive. Lastly, the scratch and pull of confinement. Tied, restrained, she couldn’t move.

Her eyes shot open.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, it’s ok, you’re safe. Here let me…”

The bindings on her wrist loosened.

“There, that’s better. We just didn’t want a repeat of the last time you woke up. Did a lot of damage tearing all that out of your body.”

Nothing was in focus, and then suddenly, blindingly, everything came into bright high res Technicolor. “Where am I?”

The man above her, now more than a blurry blob, was leaning over with a pinched expression as he tried to grab her hands. She jerked away violently.

“Whoa,” he said as he put his hands up in a placating manner, “sorry, I won’t hurt you I promise.”

Looking closely, she realized she knew this man. This was Charlie, designated physician aboard the Dóchas. Thank the gods it wasn’t named the Ark. Everything still had a dreamlike quality to it, and she needed to be sure. “Charlie, I need a window.”

Charlie reared back a little, unsure of how to proceed. He let out a nervous chuckle, “Are you sure about that? You’ve been through a traumatic experience, and I don’t want to add to your stress.”

Iliana wanted to snap back, something witty and flippant, but she couldn’t find it within her at the moment. Her whole world was gone; wasn’t that what the data had revealed to her in that place of nothingness…the horsemen, and iced coffee, and the end of everything.

No, she didn’t have it in her to be witty or to be anything other than bone-crushingly, soul-wearingly sad. Her world had not been perfect, but it had been so breathtakingly beautiful. Teeming with life and stories and art and love and joy. Even with the sorrow, even with the horrors and the atrocities humankind inflicted on each other, even with the corruption and the war and the loss and the pain…it had been worth it. Life had been worth it. And now, now everything was gone, and she wasn’t quite sure how to process that.

No more sunsets, no more walks on the beach as the moonlight sprinkled diamonds on the sea and the salt washed away all your sins: no more laughter on the wind or dancing in the rain, no more cannonballs into the lake, no more lightening tearing across the sky invoking fear and awe; the perfect personification of nature. No more butterflies harkening in spring days and warm lazy summers. So much was lost. How does one even begin to comprehend all the life that was now extinguished? It wasn’t right, it was unthinkable, incomprehensible, and yet…here she was.

Here she was.

Charlie began to grow concerned the longer Ana’s silence went on. He wanted to comfort her, tell her he understood, and that she wasn’t alone, but really, she was. How does one even begin to grieve for an entire planet lost anyway? He slowly reached for her hand, and this time she allowed contact. Loosely wrapping his fingers around hers, he waited, giving her time.

Iliana squeezed Charlie’s hand, and it was grounding rather than intrusive. She knew his name and job, but she had no memories of him. No memories of getting on this ship. No memories of how the world actually ended, only that it did. She had to see for herself. She had to know, for sure, to confirm what the data had shown her. Slowly letting go of Charlie’s hand, she looked up, focusing on his face, “Please take me to the window, Charlie.” She asked with a hint of steel.

He knew there would be no arguing with her on this. She deserved to know, see for herself where exactly she was, and learn why she was here. He just hoped she was strong enough for it all.

Bringing a wheelchair over to the side of her bed, he went to help her up only to be shoved aside as she stood, swayed, and then tightened her hospital gown around her.

“I won’t be needing that thank you, Charlie.” The steel was still there in her voice, but it wavered a little.

“I think you already know where we are. Why is it so important to see it right this very second? You have barely woken up from your hibernation and—“

“My what? What did you just say?” The fear was coming back, the desperation, the existential dread.

“Never mind, let’s just get you to the window.” He placed his hand at her elbow, hovering, offering, but not touching. She leaned into it just slightly, and that was enough for him to take her arm in his and guide her down a stark white hallway.

The hallway gave way to a labyrinth of twists and turns, locked doors, and hidden alcoves. She felt a little like Alice when she first dropped into Wonderland. Perhaps she too, would have to shrink down to fit through a door. The thought made hysterical laughter bubble up in her throat, causing Charlie to throw her a deeply concerned look.

“Oh no, you don’t get to look at me like I’m the crazy one. You’re the one throwing around words like hibernation. I think I am taking this all quite well, thank you.” She put her nose up in the air, going for an air of silliness but just coming off haughty instead.

As they approached one of the hidden alcoves and it came into focus, she noticed a candle burning. A candle? Why would there be a candle on a ship like this? In a place where hibernation sleep was something that happened and where you are entombed in plastic and wires? Candles belonged in old Victorian mansions and the homes of new age gurus…places that were all gone now.

Before she could ask about it, Charlie pressed a button on the wall, and the whole thing started to lift up. She stood, frozen, arm in Charlies as she tried to process what she was seeing.

See, what they don’t tell you about space is that all those beautiful pictures taken by high-powered telescopes are only small portions of vast, infinite nothingness. So, when one stares out into space, usually all they will see is darkness spotted with little pinpricks of light. The darkness is consuming; it’s all-encompassing, it’s cold and inky black, it’s terrifying.

“Close it.” She whispered as she turned away. Charlie complied, and she heard the soft whir of the wall coming back down.

Silence.

A beat.

“Tell me where we are? And why I’m here.”

“It’s a long story, complicated, full of twists. It would take forever to untangle it all, but I can tell you that you are safe.” Charlie said as he supported her on the walk back to the med bay.

“Even if I’m not safe, it’s not like there are escape options.” It came out biting, cold, and full of distrust. Iliana did not feel safe. If anything, she was fighting down panic. Alone. She was completely alone here with a man she had a name for but no memory of, a man that said she had been in something called hibernation, a man that, with the flick of a switch, had shown her how isolated and alone she really was. No, she didn’t feel safe at all.

Arriving back in the med bay, Charlie led her back over to her bed and gently helped her sit, wisely stepping back after and letting her take over her own care. As she settled back in, he wondered how he was going to explain everything to her without sending her back into shock. She deserved the truth, but as they used to say, truth, in this case, is stranger than fiction.

Iliana shoved herself up the bed, refusing to lay down. She propped her pillow behind her back and sat upright, careful of her bandages; she gently folded her legs in front of her, “So.”

“So.”

“I guess we get the elephant in the room out of the way first. We’re in space.” She bit her lip, it sounded so stupid out loud, but there was no denying what she had seen. Unless… “This isn’t some weird hologram situation, is it? Like Disneyland? Where I look out a window that isn’t really a window but a projection?”

Charlie wanted to laugh, the absurdity of it was amusing, but he didn’t think she would share his sentiments, “No, no holograms, sorry.”

She wasn’t entirely convinced, but she would go with it for now. “So if it’s not a hologram, and this is real, and Earth really is gone, where are we going?”

She would lead with the one question he couldn’t answer. “We aren’t sure, and we just couldn’t stay on Earth anymore, so we went up. Haven’t been able to find a hospitable planet just yet.”

“Well, I guess that would take some time. It can’t be more than a few months since everything happened and,” she paused at the look that flashed across his face. “It has only been a few months, right?”

Charlie tensed. This was the part that could send her back into shock if he wasn’t careful. “No, it’s been quite a bit longer than that…what’s the last thing you remember?”

“Don’t think I’m letting this go that easily, but I’ll play along for now. The last thing I remember is being in a restaurant, no a pub. I knew the waitress.” She smiled a bit at the memory, and then she realized something horrifying, “That’s the only thing I remember. I have no memory of anything. Just that pub, the waitress, the fact that the world ended, and you…well, your name. I know your name and the name of this ship. That’s it though, nothing else, it’s gone.” She started to breathe a little faster, heart thumping in her throat, and that feeling of ice returned, creeping up around her like an embrace.

Charlie saw the panic starting to take over and thought it wise to keep giving her space, but he did step fractionally closer. “That’s normal. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but you have been in hibernation for a long time, and memory loss is normal. It can last anywhere from a few days to a few weeks, but they will come back. I promise you. You won’t be without your memories forever.”

The ice reached her neck, and she thought she might throw up as it twisted around her head like vines, tightening as her vision grew fuzzy. “How long?” She croaked out past the bile rising in her throat.

Charlie almost asked for clarification, that question could encompass a lot of things, but he figured he knew what she wanted, “I will tell you, but you have to breathe first. You are going to pass out if you don’t calm down a little. I understand this is distressing, but we can’t continue this conversation if it is going to make you sick.”

Iliana wanted to hit him. She had never wanted to hit anything or anyone more in her life. Calm down? Calm down! She wanted to take those words and shove them up his ass. And, ironically, that anger was what she needed to shove away those icy vines twining around her like a vice. She took a few deep breaths, found a spot on the wall to focus on, and thought of her one memory. The waitress, she had been so beautiful. Had they been friends? It feels like more, deeper, more intimate. Or, she just wanted that, something, someone that loved her somewhere, even if that person was dead.

Raising her eyes from the wall, she looked Charlie dead in the eye, steel back in her voice, “How long?”

She watched as his chest expanded on a particularly ragged breath, he met her eyes, and she felt his sadness, not for himself, but for her.

“The thing I can’t figure out is how you knew my name. I gotta say that threw me. I’ve been watching over you my whole life, my father before me, and his before him, and so on. Yet, you knew my name.” A look of awe passed over his face.

Iliana shook her head, trying to knock out the words she had just heard, “Your father? And his father?” Was all she could manage in reply.

This time he did step closer to her, right up to the edge of her bed, “You asked how long, and I didn’t properly answer you. Earth was destroyed in the year 2042. By our best guess, as we don’t have a sun to orbit to measure time, this ship left on August 28, 2042, and it is now the year 3066. It’s been one hundred and twenty-four years. You slept through most of it, woke up once but asked to be put back under when you learned the truth.” He took her hand, surprised that she allowed it, “You can take that option again if you wish. My son will look after you the same way I have done.”

Gripping his hand, she latched on to the only sane part of what he had just said, “There are others?” Then, a flash of memory, panic, and blood, a scream finally breaking free, and two voices coming to her aid. There had been two voices after she woke up.

He smiled down at her, pride showing through, “Yes, there are about thirty-six souls on board. There were originally about fourteen, you included. We’ve been careful not to reproduce too much and expend all our resources. We are only replenished every twenty years or so.”

She was a little taken aback by the fact that there were so few people aboard. Wasn’t this ship meant to be something of an ark, in action if not in name, a savior of humankind? There should have been far more than fourteen people that escaped the destruction of Earth; there had to be another ship, several other ships; for now, she focused on the most confusing part, “Replenished?” Single words were good. They were easy; they dodged the new elephant in the room.

“That’s a story for another time. First, I should explain how you came to be here, why you were put into hibernation, and what your role here could be if you so choose. Would that be alright?” Growing more daring, he sat on the edge of her bed, and she weakly squeezed his hand in return. He took that as her answer. “Alright, I will start at the beginning, but just so you know, the beginning is also the end. There will be some answers, but mostly what I have to tell you will only lead to more questions. Are you sure you are ready for this? Perhaps we should wait until some of your memories return.”

Iliana wasn’t ready for this. She would never be ready for this, everything she knew wasn’t just gone but over a hundred years gone… “Why haven’t I aged?”

“That’s all part of the more questions than answers bit I was telling you about, but I promise to fill in as many blanks as possible, including that one.” Settling in, Charlie pulled his leg up under himself and angled toward Ana. “You ready?”

Iliana looked at him, nodded slowly, and felt herself start to detach from her body so as not to spiral back into a panic attack, “Ready.”

“Well, the first thing I should tell you is that we don’t think you can die.”

“I-what?”

“And that’s just the beginning. Get comfortable. This is going to take a while.”

And as Charlie’s voice drifted through the ship, the others gathered, listening. The candle hidden in the alcove burned brighter as the story of the horsemen unraveled and the vacuum of space swirled around them.