I could picture the Earth in my head. The blues of water, greens of vegetation, and whites of clouds, all the essentials of life swirling together as if left by brush strokes. I had been seeing it since my first earth science class in elementary school, glaring out at me from textbooks as if demanding an answer. How could you do this? The question reverberated in my head, the dull ache of cognitive dissonance setting in as I peered out the window. I didn’t have an answer. None of us did. That’s why we’re here, I thought to myself, because we couldn’t find an answer. Unable to bear the sight, I pulled my eyes away from the window and let my head loll back against the cool pleather of my seat, hoping that I might just be granted a brief reprieve
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“To ensure the success of the colonization,” began the General, “only those individuals deemed essential as outlined in the New Earth Initiative press release from February 4th, 2116 will be granted a seat on the first series of launches to New Earth.” The broadcast continued for a while longer as the General called out the names of the approximately 800 scientists, local politicians, business leaders, and cultural icons who had been deemed “essential individuals.” I winced when I heard my father’s name. We had seen the press release when it came out four months prior to the broadcast, but it still hurt to think that my family would be given a chance for a new life based solely on his occupation while so many would be left behind. The discomfort quickly faded, however, and I returned to gently prodding baby Elly’s lips with a spoonful of synthetic peas, chuckling as she stuck her tongue out at me. “Toby, come in here.” The chuckle caught in my throat as my mother called to me from the other room, her voice shaded with alarm. I set the jar of peas down and rushed into the living room. My eyes followed my father’s pointing finger to the T.V. screen. Having just finished the list of essential individuals, General McClintock peered out at me, his face stern and
“To ensure the success of the colonization,” began the General, “only those individuals deemed essential as outlined in the New Earth Initiative press release from February 4th, 2116 will be granted a seat on the first series of launches to New Earth.” The broadcast continued for a while longer as the General called out the names of the approximately 800 scientists, local politicians, business leaders, and cultural icons who had been deemed “essential individuals.” I winced when I heard my father’s name. We had seen the press release when it came out four months prior to the broadcast, but it still hurt to think that my family would be given a chance for a new life based solely on his occupation while so many would be left behind. The discomfort quickly faded, however, and I returned to gently prodding baby Elly’s lips with a spoonful of synthetic peas, chuckling as she stuck her tongue out at me. “Toby, come in here.” The chuckle caught in my throat as my mother called to me from the other room, her voice shaded with alarm. I set the jar of peas down and rushed into the living room. My eyes followed my father’s pointing finger to the T.V. screen. Having just finished the list of essential individuals, General McClintock peered out at me, his face stern and