Global Climactic Optimum

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Gazing into the endless darkness, Aster thought it ironic that her eyes glossed over spacing out, yet her mind kept wandering into a dream-like state. Not entirely knowing how to calm her nerves, her fingers traced one another from the palm of her hand to the tips of her fingers as if she were scheming ominously. Aster gyrated from the diminutive rectangular window and analyzed the sterile, all-pervading white walls that seemed loud in such an agonizing silence. She knew that any minute that silence would turn into a dry mechanical voice on a recorded loudspeaker initiating how to begin her day.

Waiting for the inevitable interruption, Aster’s inner dialogue rambled; had she more time to prepare, would she have packed differently? In times of crisis and mandatory evacuations, you often reassess—through the scattered frenzy that is your brain – what you actually meant to pack and what your heart decided you couldn’t live without. Shoe boxes full of memories may help you drudge up the past, but is that something you want to remember when you are in orbit toward an unknown new world? Was the concert stub from 6 years ago necessary, or a file box that held what used to be important documents. Aster did not believe a passport would be a stipulation for travel any longer, yet here it had traveled light years with her. It may best to forget the past and move on. Trying to remember to find her breath, Aster counted slowly.

Breathing in—1,2,3 and hold.

Breathing out—4,5,6, hold.

and in—7,8,9, hold.

Releasing the last breath with slow deep intention. There was really nothing to do now but follow instructions and try to remain calm.

“Good morning, pod number 365,821. We will be starting our scheduled activities after this short announcement from command center. Please sit in the desk provided in your rooms and wait for the video to begin,” crackled the loudspeaker.

This was new; Aster had not even given sitting at the desk a thought prior to this announcement. Gliding over by grasping the ropes along the roof she pulled herself into the office space and grabbed the harness to secure herself into the chair. As soon as the glossy new buckle clicked into place a picture popped up in front of her with distastefully cheery music in the background. A large infinity symbol with the command center in the back and Earth in each loop created a deep distain that sent Aster’s eyes rolling. What was next? Some stupid chant about teamwork and the chance to create a new healthy population to bring back to Earth. No one aboard these pods has any option to be here and does not believe in the safety of space travel, at least this was her assumption. As Aster started to snowball passionate rants, they were cut short by a flash on the screen. A large group of leaders from what used to be the UN appeared on the screen in a conference room with a banner that said “We Welcome Your Safe Return Home” --as if any of this felt safe. A prompt appeared at the bottom of the screen with a drop down allowing you to choose a language, so she chose English quickly and tried to focus on what they were going to say.

“As you all have been aware over the last six years, our UN has come together in these trying times to begin a positive outlook to the future of our world, its inhabitants, and the future of all humankind. Tireless and countless hours and trillions of dollars emanated from engineering genius to fabricate what you will soon be calling home. We appreciate that you work together as a team and do precisely as you are told.” Aster felt herself roll her eyes as if her subconscious mind beat the conscious as she muttered under her breath “here we go spitting widespread vilification.”

The UN continued, “There will be no second chances and a zero-tolerance policy for all rules posted; defiance will be grounds for immediate execution. There have been many activities implemented for your pleasure as well as many desirable activities that will be mandatory in preparation for your new assignments as you arrive home. Do not let these words be that of discouragement, but that of prospect. Questions will be sent directly through your PIB, and we will answer them in the order they are received in a timely manner. We wish you all a safe trip and extend our warmest regards as you disembark.”

The picture dematerialized and the wall returned sterile-hospital white again. Suddenly Aster felt as if snakes were interweaving throughout her body. The knot clinched tight and locked itself into place in the pit of her stomach. Cheeks starting to slightly warm she wanted to go back to sleep when she heard the pressure release and the door to her room slid open. A dry voice over the loudspeaker instructed “Everyone in group A please follow the yellow ropes to breakfast. Group B please follow the green ropes. Group C follow the red ropes, and finally group D the black ropes. Group D will report to the kitchen immediately. Breakfast will begin in one hour.” Every group had certain days they helped to serve and buss tables to keep structure and order within the pod. Those were the only days anyone was obligated to attend commons.

Aster sighed and reluctantly drifted toward the doorway. At least once ‘welcomed home’ they would be able to walk instead of dealing with anti-gravity and drifting through hallways and corridors with ropes bumping into people like Times Square at New Years. Critically, Aster’s neighbor barked, “little lady, if you keep me up with that damn crying one more night, I will request you move to another room; get yourself a therapist, and quickly!” Her neighbor was an older man in his 60’s; gravity had taken its toll back on Earth leaving a squatty glower permanently resting on the mans’ face. Embarrassed, Aster turned and politely responded to the man. “I haven’t been able to get my therapist assigned quite yet, but I will put in another request with my PIB, sorry to keep you up.” The fire in Aster’s cheeks began to rise again.

Just exceeding her mid-twenties, Aster appeared average and there were not any wildly unique or beautiful features she possessed. Her caramel hair fell flat against her cameo shoulders. Slightly sharp features--and now a growing concern--gave the appearance of an unappeasable snob. She had a light dusting of freckles that seemed to barely kiss her defined cheek bones and hazel eyes that seemed tired and sunken in due to stress from the last couple of weeks’ events. A little over 5’6’’ there were no curves up top to boast about aside from the pear-shaped waistline stacked above thin legs. Muscles were tired and felt depleted even with the daily scheduled exercises to keep muscle tone from diminishing. Rushing to grab her smoothie, Aster skipped out on a public breakfast and returned to her room. Once safely inside, she closed her door and went to the large chest filled with personal possessions. Seeking out an intricately carved wooden puzzle box she instantly felt encompassed with a sense of ease and power. Made from hardwood the small box looked archaic. Asking aloud to no one in particular, Aster tried to be concise and forward “what surreptitious intent do you harness?” Eyebrows pulled together flustered. Aster had no idea what the hell she was doing or how to open the puzzle, but before her mother perished and dad disappeared, they told her this was to never be misplaced. When it became necessary, the answers would reveal themselves. She had to trust in the universe as well as her higher self for instruction. Of course, they had left her with this beautiful puzzle and a bullshit cryptic message. The box juddered in her hands, and she released it watching it hover in front of her. Quickly placing the wooden box securely into its place, she decided to go and do her daily exercises in the gym. “PIB,” Aster called aloud. “Are there openings in the gym right now?” PIB, or Personal Information Bot, appeared in a holographic humanoid form in the room. “Good morning, Aster, I can reserve a spot for you in 15 minutes. Confirm appointment?”

“Confirm,” replied Aster. Grabbing the ropes throughout the halls to the gym, Aster did have to appreciate the sophistication of pod 365,821. There were a little over 450,000 people per pod and thousands more pods. Hallways lit automatically reflecting off the white, black, and metallic curved walls. The sound of pressurized doors hissing as they open and close surrounded Aster. Viewing windows copiously lined the hallways adding a nice touch of wanderlust to the façade. A moment to marvel at Earth from this perspective gave one a sense of God-like power. A delicate pinpoint in the sky; Earth seemed to try to preserve what little atmosphere it retained. It was odd -- thought Aster -- how small we feel on Earth; looking at Earth now, it seemed as fragile as a shell-less egg. A thin membrane of protection was all that held Earth the habitable planet, at least until recently.

*******

There were still people down on Earth. Only a quarter of the world’s population were chosen. The authorities shuffling others away from all that was reality called people chosen as if it were a privilege. Over the course of 6 months, military men and women showed up to specific cities globally and chose people to leave. Media platforms had been blocked on the world wide web, radio, phones, and from network television, keeping citizens oblivious to the seizures. If chosen, you packed a bag and said sweet goodbyes to all you loved and had to leave behind. For some this may have been pets, spouses, children, dreams, your home, but for Aster it was normality. Escorted onto a large bus and shipped to launch pads around the world, millions departed. Even at its busiest, London, Tokyo and New York couldn’t hold a candle to the jammed-packed busses of people conversing their wild theories. Within 120 hours of capture, military nurses were involuntarily hooking up sedation chambers in each room of the vast airspace travel pods. Protests and howls of emotional turmoil exuded trepidation on board until, as if pushing over dominoes, the last one fell silent. Previous to launch, the captured were told vague and insignificant details of their futures. Freedom seemed to dissipate as a cloud does during entrainment. Trying to appease to her higher self, she reluctantly had decided to let the powers that be, rest. When she needed to know what was going on, the little wooden box would guide her on her true path.

*****

Walking on an endless loop as if she were a hamster on a wheel, Aster tried to empty her mind when she heard a humph. Next to her was a gorgeous ember-red-haired woman with unkempt flowing locks. Her eyes were a pale emerald green that seemed to pierce through your soul and burn into memory. She was tall, slender and every muscle seemed perfectly toned. Slightly intimidated, Aster looked at her and asked if she was okay.

“Is anyone? I cannot imagine that a single person aboard is thrilled to be here, but then again Stockholm syndrome hasn’t quite consumed me yet. Ah to be a ping in the bowl,” she sighed. Turning a side glance at Aster before laughing half-heartedly and proceeding, “The anxiety meds seem to suppress enough uncertainty to keep my mind at bay, but I would rather be galivanting Europe with friends in the deep-seated underbelly of the nightlife. My name is Liv, and yours?”

“Aster,” she replied starting to slow down her machine into a speed walk adding a bit of resistance. “What did you mean when you said to be a ping in the bowl?”

“I believe in America, the phrase is: ignorance is bliss. For Norway it is to be empty-headed, hollow if you will.” Liv declared.

“Jealousy wouldn’t even begin to depict how desirable that sounds. Liv was the first person on board that had conversed with Aster; even at a casual conversation she craved companionship. Can I be honest with you?” Liv’s fine tea rose lips curled into a receptive grin. Aster resumed, “my dad was a historian and worked out of a prestigious private university back home,” hesitating to see a reaction, for which there wasn’t one, Aster continued. “He told me that there was an elite group of beings,”—note that he did not say humans—"these beings were guardians from the dawn of time to correct irrefutable consequences of human influence on themselves or their environment. My mother, rest her soul, tried to convey what exactly my role in this statement meant. She was a highly notable psychologist with a Ph.D. as well as a Doctor of Psychology graduate, but toward the end of her life had gotten dementia and was struggling to piece together the enigma my father had started to weave. I had to care for my mother at the end of her life while my dad continued his work and was hardly home. She passed while he was away and the distraction of conducting mom’s wishes had derailed any questions I had for my dad when he was home. Before the world was cut off from contact with each other and any news broadcasts, my dad gave me a white cardboard box with journals, heirlooms, and a wooden puzzle box in which he adamantly told me to keep close and never lose. I am not sure why I am telling you this, but—honestly, I am so lost right now and just verbalizing my vexation is dissolving my concern.”

Liv stared in awe. “So, you are telling me that there are “beings” that were supposed to safeguard our planet and humans and they dropped the ball? Sounds like a load of bullshit straight out of every other prophetic world’s end book written that passes off all responsibility to someone else. I do, on the other hand, want to see the box of mementos sometime soon,” Liv exclaimed excitedly. “It will give us something to do until we are sent home.” Liv was unhooking herself from her treadmill and gathering her items. “I am going to the sauna before heading to lunch, do you want to come?”

“I should go rest a bit, I have not slept in days, and it shows,” Aster gestured toward her dark circles under her eyes.

“Let’s meet up soon, I would love to have someone to talk to around here,” Liv amiably waved as she glided out of sight.

Turning the box inverted to examine all sides, it looked as though Teak wood crafted the ornate box. The honey brown grain had delicately carved markings resembling an undistinguishable symbolic language. Some symbols looked like complicated physics equations; others had figures that looked unnatural. Beings that had no faces and beings with too many faces. Animalistic creatures only dreamt up from vivid imaginations, layers upon layers of peculiar designs that she could not cross reference to any known hieroglyphs or dead languages. She remembered it being heavy for its size; it was a little larger than both of her palms pressed together. Looking for any spots that could move, turn, twist or push resulted in failure. Feeling defeated Aster burst into a scream. A long-drawn-out scream then turned into hysterical laughter. Had she gone completely mad over a simple box that she still wasn’t even sure truly did anything? Aster generally had an even-tempered disposition, feeling a bit silly that she was letting her emotions get the best of her Aster took a moment to collect herself. “Journals!” Aster exclaimed aloud. “How could I forget; Dad left me his journals!” Rummaging through her possessions she fished out the leather-bound books that had years-worth of research, random notes, ideas, and theories. Aster’s father was a historian, historical collector of all things unusual and rare, and a philanthropist. A beacon of humanity and hope, her father always remained truly optimistic throughout his life and Aster had always looked up to him as an example of what she would become. “There were no bad days and there were no bad people,” he repeatedly told Aster in her upbringing. “There is only desire, hope, and bliss that craft the world’s reality.” He was an inspiration to undoubtedly thousands of people that he touched. Thumbing through his elegant scribbles she came across an interesting inscription with a symbol next to it. The symbol was identical to a birthmark she possessed on her foot. Swirls that intertwined around dots starting large and decreasing in size with each curve. The marking was so prominent, people mistook it for a tattoo. Adjacent the symbol in the journal were the words ‘sentry of light protect acolyte.’ In her peripheral vision, the box drifted nearby, and she retrieved it looking for another clue. She muttered the phrase, “sentry of light protect acolyte.” Just as she had barely spoke the last suffix, the box began to shudder. Aghast, Aster tried to move away from the box not knowing what to expect, but -- as one can imagine -- moving quickly with zero gravity is unattainable. Rapidly the box started to morph; it reminded her of a Rubik’s cube in the way it rotated. There was a golden glow bursting from the seams of each corner and crevice. A single piece of wood slid to the side, like a prohibition door slot, and the top burst open revealing a royal purple silk lined box with a clear sphere resting inside. An eruption of color immediately enveloped the room, colors beyond her known spectrum.

Aster snatched the box when something caught her eye. She didn’t even have time to process what was happening when time halted. Cold to the bone, it felt as if the bone marrow itself had frozen. Her heart was a slow and heavy thwack in her throat, that is when she heard it. A low growl she could feel rattling her soul turning into an increasingly strident screech rose so high Aster’s ears began to ring. Clutching the box to her chest she threw her head in the direction of the window. One giant iris gleamed at her as it backed away from the pod window in a recoil. The creature was massive considering how large the pod itself was. A T-Rex would look like a teacup chihuahua next to it. 6 glaring eyes locked in on the puzzle box, no sign of a nose, not a visible mouth and a long snake-like body that moved with impressive speed. The dark creature felt more dangerous than it appeared, Aster could feel it taunting her. The body had a ghost-like appearance, not quite tangible and may be able to shape-shift as its body got wider in front of her eyes. The creature cocked its head slightly and let out another penetrating shriek that shoved the pod with immense force. This time she could see it had gill-like slits in the neck below the eyes, undoubtedly where the screams were coming from. Her whole body locked up like a seized engine. The moment hung in the air like dust particles in the sunlight. Finally, it started to charge the pod while Aster let out horrified scream squeezing her eyes shut. The box in her hands slammed shut and silence ensued. Now her heart began to speed up whilst still pounding heavily. Ears ringing as if she had just encountered a flash bang, her hands were bloody as she slowly tried to pry each finger away from the box. Flummoxed, she placed the box in a safe space and realized there were red lights flashing above her door. She could barely hear the siren wailing beyond the ringing in her ears before she her vision tunneled, and everything seemed to diminish into a pinpoint until complete darkness washed over her conscious. It wasn't the sleep she was seeking, but it was finally rest, nonetheless.