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M. Drewery’s action-packed, soulful new Young Adult sci-fi novel
I reached out, trying to wrap my arms around all three of them; Mum, Dad, and Jack. Maybe if my hands met they would be taken with me. Callum Tasker isn’t special. He isn't a genius, or a star athlete. He’s not unique. But he, along with 257 other ordinary kids from around the globe, has been assigned to a spaceship that will flee an alien attack on the Earth. Callum will leave everything behind; his family, his friends, his country, to give humanity a new beginning on a new home world. However he’s not safe. The journey will be long. The crew is inexperienced. There are forces from Earth that want nothing more than to stop them. Plus, their captain is the most dangerous human to ever live... if he's human at all. Can a crew of teenagers save the future? Or will the past be too fast to outrun? |
Follow the links from this page to extra content from the Stolen Futures universe
You will find pictures of the Arkonauts, of the world before it ended, of the Ark and Destroyer, crew quotes and short stories involving characters from the universe
Below are a few sample chapters from the book
Goodbye
1
For the last nine months I have treated every meal I sit down to eat like it was the last I’d ever have on planet Earth. It was not that I have been obsessed with death, counting every moment as the end. That would have driven me crazy. Death was not even my concern. It was the very opposite. I was definitely going to live. But the Earth was running out of time.
Every day I would sit at the table on the military base where they kept me safe. I would watch my family eat and wonder if this is going to be the last time we eat together. Would it be the last time me and my brother would bicker over who had the largest portion of meat? The last time Mum would say grace? The last time my Dad would force me to eat my vegetables?
The meals hadn’t been that good since we got to the base. The Destroyer was disrupting all international trade, and not much exotic food was getting through to the UK. The vegetables were bland, the meat dried and stringy. There was no gravy any more so the tastelessness of every type of English food showed through.
Tonight though, Mum was dishing up the very best we had left. It wasn’t just our rations allotted to us by the government, but a full roast dinner. Somehow she must have sensed that we would never get a chance to eat this wonderful food if we waited much longer.
The vegetables steamed in their dishes, the meat leaked rich juices onto the chopping board and the potatoes continued to fry in their roasting tin.
It smelled amazing.
It was a shame that we weren’t eating in our family house.
The Lake District military base wasn’t as homey as, well, home. The walls were bare concrete and sparsely decorated with a few things we had grabbed from our house when we had been evacuated from London.
Once upon a time Cumbria had been a popular holiday destination for my family and me. Now it was not as beautiful as it once was. The lakes were virtually empty and their dried up beds were covered with rotting fish left high and dry with nowhere to go. The beaches were barren and looked more like deserts. Even the forests had turned brown and the trees were dead and bare.
We used to stay in plush hotels on holiday, and this cold, sterile army base was no comparison. I missed the way the Lake District used to look, all the greenery and water, now it was just like the aftermath of a terrible war. But then, I missed how the world used to look.
The last time I had seen the outside properly was several weeks ago. Everything beyond the base was declared off limits, not just because the air was becoming spare, but because it was no longer safe for me.
As one of the chosen, my safety and security was paramount, and no more risks would be taken. Others just like me were on the base too, unable to wait for the end in their home countries as some no longer existed or were in states of war. Factions everywhere vied for the pitiful resources that remained, fighting for air, water, and food, to be the ones to survive until the end. I had not talked to any of my future companions, even though I would be spending the rest of my life with them.
I could barely accept that the end was really coming. Let alone that I would be the only member of family spared. I didn’t want to connect with the other chosen. They represented the future I didn’t want.
My mother served the food and grimaced every time the base rocked to the sound of explosions outside. She quickly wiped the expression from her face as she tried to keep up the façade of happiness. I loved her for that. She was trying to make my leaving as painless as possible.
Even while the base was under attack by hordes of people searching for a way off the planet, or for food, or just wanting shelter from the chaos sweeping the country, she kept up being my mum.
Once the food was served, Mum said grace. As she prayed I added my own that by some miracle the Earth would be spared.
We all said “amen,” and I still held out for hope for a different ending than the one I was expecting. I knew though, deep down, that nothing had changed.
We all took up our cutlery to eat. My little brother was already munching away, scarfing down the food without closing his mouth.
“I don’t want to see you chew,” my mum scolded him, still adhering to old rules that no longer had any relevance.
Then the red phone on the wall rang.
I immediately thought, What a waste. I dropped my cutlery onto my plate and it bounced once and settled in the Yorkshire puds.
That was a selfish thought, that all this food was not going to be eaten, a stupid one too. Considering what was going to happen in a short while, not getting dinner was going to be inconsequential.
My dad answered the ringing phone, then bowed his head at the news he received. He didn’t bother putting it back on the hook, he just left the phone to hang by its cord as he let it drop.
Things then happened fast. I was made to stand. Dad positioned me on my own in the middle of the room.
My brother was forced away from his plate by my mum. My dad’s face had gone rigid as he fought back emotions, I could see muscles in his jaw twitching. He quickly gathered the bags I was allowed to take. My mother grabbed my little brother and held him close as if he too was about to be whisked away. My brother was too young to understand what was going on. Maybe he thought I was going on holiday.
Then mum and my brother stood with my dad a few feet away and just watched me, waiting for me to be plucked up and taken away, as they were left behind.
Tears formed in my eyes. This was it. I was finally going.
They would only give me five minutes to say goodbye.
I looked down, away from my family. I didn’t want to see them crying. No way was that going to be my last memory of them. Hearing their sniffling and sobbing cut me to my very soul. I didn’t want the image, too.
Five minutes.
What do you say in five minutes?
I suppose by then there wasn’t much else to say. In nine months my family had become closer than any other on Earth. Lots of trips to fun places, celebrations, birthdays and one wedding, all spectacular and intense. We had talked, cried, yelled and wallowed together in such a short space of time.
Now it was time to let go.
“Mum I love you,” I said to Mum, still without turning around, but projecting my voice over my shoulder.
She sniffed, a painful sound.
I couldn’t help it, I looked.
Tears streamed down her cheeks and as I watched them fall I dragged the best words I could from my mind to express how much I loved her. “You’re the best mum ever, you did everything right, I’m sorry for not listening to you all the time and making your life hell sometimes.”
She wrapped me up in the tightest hug she had ever given me. Mothers always hug this strong, demonstrating the bond between mum and precious child, showing true love every time. I hugged back as strong as I could.
“I love you. I don’t want to leave,” I said and the tears that fell from my own eyes soaked the jumper she was wearing.
We may never have broken apart. Mother and son, why would they let go of each other in these desperate times? But my father wanted his turn with his son, and when he placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder she sniffed and let me go.
The hug I got from my dad was not like the hug I got from my mother. It was not as tight. Instead it imparted warmth and reassurance that everything was going to be alright. It felt like it imparted pride, that my dad who I looked up to was proud of me and I was going with his blessing. It was amazing to feel such reassurance. Hugs from fathers were always rare and that’s what made them special when you got one like a reward for being a good son.
Then the hug tightened. In the last moment, my dad didn’t want to let go any more than my mum did.
“I love you son.”
“I love you too, dad,” I sniffed and wiped my eyes with my sleeve.
We didn’t say anything more. Sons and fathers never had to. The respect and love was always unspoken. I regret that most of all. I took my parents for granted and looking back on all they ever did for me, made me realise that no words could ever express the thanks and love I have for them.
Then came the goodbye I was dreading the most.
My little brother, Jack.
It was the worst goodbye because I felt love, regret and shame all at the same time.
Love because he was my little brother, cute and funny and full of energy and wonder. He was amazing. When he was born, I had been old enough to appreciate him and not be jealous.
Dread came over me because I was going to escape and he wasn’t. He was younger. I was older. By that reasoning alone he had to go, not me, he had to be saved not me.
It wasn’t fair. I was glad to be chosen, and I didn’t want to die, but Jack deserved to be chosen too. The reasonable part of my mind told me I had no choice. They chose me. Not him. And I didn’t have any control over any of it.
I hugged my brother hard. I had never hugged him before, it wasn’t the done thing between brothers, at least not us. He squirmed as I embraced him. He didn’t understand its significance, it was the first and last hug we would share.
When I let go, he looked at me and was the picture of innocence. He was happy and content, seeing his big brother off for a holiday, not understanding the calamity about to befall him.
I stepped back and looked at my family: mum, dad, and Jack. They all smiled and waved, but the smiles were tight, holding back tears, save for Jack’s.
I stared at them until the memory burnt into my brain. My five minutes were almost up.
The teleport would happen soon, stealing me away from everything I loved.
And the Earth’s demise.
Every day I would sit at the table on the military base where they kept me safe. I would watch my family eat and wonder if this is going to be the last time we eat together. Would it be the last time me and my brother would bicker over who had the largest portion of meat? The last time Mum would say grace? The last time my Dad would force me to eat my vegetables?
The meals hadn’t been that good since we got to the base. The Destroyer was disrupting all international trade, and not much exotic food was getting through to the UK. The vegetables were bland, the meat dried and stringy. There was no gravy any more so the tastelessness of every type of English food showed through.
Tonight though, Mum was dishing up the very best we had left. It wasn’t just our rations allotted to us by the government, but a full roast dinner. Somehow she must have sensed that we would never get a chance to eat this wonderful food if we waited much longer.
The vegetables steamed in their dishes, the meat leaked rich juices onto the chopping board and the potatoes continued to fry in their roasting tin.
It smelled amazing.
It was a shame that we weren’t eating in our family house.
The Lake District military base wasn’t as homey as, well, home. The walls were bare concrete and sparsely decorated with a few things we had grabbed from our house when we had been evacuated from London.
Once upon a time Cumbria had been a popular holiday destination for my family and me. Now it was not as beautiful as it once was. The lakes were virtually empty and their dried up beds were covered with rotting fish left high and dry with nowhere to go. The beaches were barren and looked more like deserts. Even the forests had turned brown and the trees were dead and bare.
We used to stay in plush hotels on holiday, and this cold, sterile army base was no comparison. I missed the way the Lake District used to look, all the greenery and water, now it was just like the aftermath of a terrible war. But then, I missed how the world used to look.
The last time I had seen the outside properly was several weeks ago. Everything beyond the base was declared off limits, not just because the air was becoming spare, but because it was no longer safe for me.
As one of the chosen, my safety and security was paramount, and no more risks would be taken. Others just like me were on the base too, unable to wait for the end in their home countries as some no longer existed or were in states of war. Factions everywhere vied for the pitiful resources that remained, fighting for air, water, and food, to be the ones to survive until the end. I had not talked to any of my future companions, even though I would be spending the rest of my life with them.
I could barely accept that the end was really coming. Let alone that I would be the only member of family spared. I didn’t want to connect with the other chosen. They represented the future I didn’t want.
My mother served the food and grimaced every time the base rocked to the sound of explosions outside. She quickly wiped the expression from her face as she tried to keep up the façade of happiness. I loved her for that. She was trying to make my leaving as painless as possible.
Even while the base was under attack by hordes of people searching for a way off the planet, or for food, or just wanting shelter from the chaos sweeping the country, she kept up being my mum.
Once the food was served, Mum said grace. As she prayed I added my own that by some miracle the Earth would be spared.
We all said “amen,” and I still held out for hope for a different ending than the one I was expecting. I knew though, deep down, that nothing had changed.
We all took up our cutlery to eat. My little brother was already munching away, scarfing down the food without closing his mouth.
“I don’t want to see you chew,” my mum scolded him, still adhering to old rules that no longer had any relevance.
Then the red phone on the wall rang.
I immediately thought, What a waste. I dropped my cutlery onto my plate and it bounced once and settled in the Yorkshire puds.
That was a selfish thought, that all this food was not going to be eaten, a stupid one too. Considering what was going to happen in a short while, not getting dinner was going to be inconsequential.
My dad answered the ringing phone, then bowed his head at the news he received. He didn’t bother putting it back on the hook, he just left the phone to hang by its cord as he let it drop.
Things then happened fast. I was made to stand. Dad positioned me on my own in the middle of the room.
My brother was forced away from his plate by my mum. My dad’s face had gone rigid as he fought back emotions, I could see muscles in his jaw twitching. He quickly gathered the bags I was allowed to take. My mother grabbed my little brother and held him close as if he too was about to be whisked away. My brother was too young to understand what was going on. Maybe he thought I was going on holiday.
Then mum and my brother stood with my dad a few feet away and just watched me, waiting for me to be plucked up and taken away, as they were left behind.
Tears formed in my eyes. This was it. I was finally going.
They would only give me five minutes to say goodbye.
I looked down, away from my family. I didn’t want to see them crying. No way was that going to be my last memory of them. Hearing their sniffling and sobbing cut me to my very soul. I didn’t want the image, too.
Five minutes.
What do you say in five minutes?
I suppose by then there wasn’t much else to say. In nine months my family had become closer than any other on Earth. Lots of trips to fun places, celebrations, birthdays and one wedding, all spectacular and intense. We had talked, cried, yelled and wallowed together in such a short space of time.
Now it was time to let go.
“Mum I love you,” I said to Mum, still without turning around, but projecting my voice over my shoulder.
She sniffed, a painful sound.
I couldn’t help it, I looked.
Tears streamed down her cheeks and as I watched them fall I dragged the best words I could from my mind to express how much I loved her. “You’re the best mum ever, you did everything right, I’m sorry for not listening to you all the time and making your life hell sometimes.”
She wrapped me up in the tightest hug she had ever given me. Mothers always hug this strong, demonstrating the bond between mum and precious child, showing true love every time. I hugged back as strong as I could.
“I love you. I don’t want to leave,” I said and the tears that fell from my own eyes soaked the jumper she was wearing.
We may never have broken apart. Mother and son, why would they let go of each other in these desperate times? But my father wanted his turn with his son, and when he placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder she sniffed and let me go.
The hug I got from my dad was not like the hug I got from my mother. It was not as tight. Instead it imparted warmth and reassurance that everything was going to be alright. It felt like it imparted pride, that my dad who I looked up to was proud of me and I was going with his blessing. It was amazing to feel such reassurance. Hugs from fathers were always rare and that’s what made them special when you got one like a reward for being a good son.
Then the hug tightened. In the last moment, my dad didn’t want to let go any more than my mum did.
“I love you son.”
“I love you too, dad,” I sniffed and wiped my eyes with my sleeve.
We didn’t say anything more. Sons and fathers never had to. The respect and love was always unspoken. I regret that most of all. I took my parents for granted and looking back on all they ever did for me, made me realise that no words could ever express the thanks and love I have for them.
Then came the goodbye I was dreading the most.
My little brother, Jack.
It was the worst goodbye because I felt love, regret and shame all at the same time.
Love because he was my little brother, cute and funny and full of energy and wonder. He was amazing. When he was born, I had been old enough to appreciate him and not be jealous.
Dread came over me because I was going to escape and he wasn’t. He was younger. I was older. By that reasoning alone he had to go, not me, he had to be saved not me.
It wasn’t fair. I was glad to be chosen, and I didn’t want to die, but Jack deserved to be chosen too. The reasonable part of my mind told me I had no choice. They chose me. Not him. And I didn’t have any control over any of it.
I hugged my brother hard. I had never hugged him before, it wasn’t the done thing between brothers, at least not us. He squirmed as I embraced him. He didn’t understand its significance, it was the first and last hug we would share.
When I let go, he looked at me and was the picture of innocence. He was happy and content, seeing his big brother off for a holiday, not understanding the calamity about to befall him.
I stepped back and looked at my family: mum, dad, and Jack. They all smiled and waved, but the smiles were tight, holding back tears, save for Jack’s.
I stared at them until the memory burnt into my brain. My five minutes were almost up.
The teleport would happen soon, stealing me away from everything I loved.
And the Earth’s demise.
My Salvation
2
Despite being underground, a virtual window was on the wall of our family’s ‘room’, which was actually more like a cell, and it showed me pictures of the outside world.
The sky was dark. Clouds pumped out from the Destroyer, a by-product of its engines’ activities, were continuing to spread, blocking out the sun.
For the last four years those thick, dark clouds had spread from the Hawaiian Islands all across the world.
Australia had been in darkness for three full years. India for two, Africa for one. Europe, now the most densely populated continent on Earth, thanks to mass migrations, was the only place where the sun still sort of reached the ground
I was used to the clouds.
It was the rumblings that held my focus now.
Earthquakes had been spreading out from the Pacific, but I never felt them at home. Here, I felt them through the foundations of the base. Explosions from outside and vibrations through my feet sandwiched me between the effects of Earth’s destruction.
They said this would happen, the TV experts. They said that as the weight of the world’s water was removed the plates would shift and buckle. Now, the internal pressure of the Earth would suddenly find that the layer of crust it had been pushing against for millions of years was billions of tons lighter than usual. Add that the Destroyer was getting heavier and heavier with all the water it sucked up. The crust of the earth is very thin in comparison to the rest of its layers, like a crumbly pie crust. The Destroyer was sitting on a fault line as well, where the crust was already cracked. It was breaking the Earth from the outside, while the internal pressure broke Earth from the inside.
I looked at the TV that was in the corner of the room by the window.
The program was the BBC news studio and it was nearly empty, the reporters had long left their desk. The cameraman had let the camera drop, showing the floor of the studio. I thought I heard a faint voice say “Goodbye,” but the audio was muffled. It made sense. The end was nigh and so everyone had run home to be where they wanted to be. I was glad that they haven’t behaved like a film cliché where it suddenly goes to static. Why would it? Who bothers to turn off studio equipment when the world is about to end?
I smiled at my pithy observation, then the severity of my situation washed over me anew.
The TV offers no new news, but I know what’s happening. The five minute warning was going to happen when the world was ten minutes from destruction. By now the Hawaiian archipelago was destroyed and the explosion was cracking the surface of the Earth in new places.
Soon the Destroyer would take off and the compression wave from its engines would tear the planet to pieces.
The earthquakes were getting more intense, the base would topple soon.
Then the teleportation started, my salvation.
My body began to tingle.
I was told that this was the transmission procedure. Every atom of my body had to be identified.
Then spots started to dance in front of my vision and various body parts became disconnected. They were still there in a sense, but they were also somewhere else.
Now that it was happening I couldn’t do it.
I couldn’t go.
I gave up reason and logic and turned back to my family.
My mother cried. My father reached forward.
We were a family. We couldn’t just be separated like this. Not forever.
The teleportation was still happening. Parts of me were disappearing. I could see the shock and sadness in my mum’s eyes.
“I don’t want to go mum,” I cried.
“You have to,” she managed to stammer back.
“Mummy, what’s happening?” my brother asked in a muffled voice.
I reached out, trying to wrap my arms around all three of them. Maybe if my hands met they would be taken with me.
The tips of my fingers were centimetres away from each other. I could feel it. Just stretch a bit more.
Then the dancing spots filled my vision completely.
“No, no, no,” I yelled. But my voice was already teleported elsewhere.
My fingertips met.
My family was gone.
More correctly, I was gone.
I gasped and stared down at my empty hands
My eyes filled with tears. I couldn’t see exactly where I was, but I knew I was no longer on the army base. The air tasted different and there was a low level droning noise all around me. No more explosions or earthquakes. Just a cavernous drone. I could see through wet eyes that I was now in a much larger space.
I heard the shuffling of feet and others crying around me. I wiped my eyes on my sleeve and then saw exactly where I was.
I was on the Ark.
I had seen it before, on the tour that had been provided during our mission briefing. Then it was a virtual tour, not a real one. The Ark had already been placed in orbit by the time I was chosen
Filling the Ark around me were hundreds of other children.
Some were in the same state of shock as I was. Others were staring into space.
Then there was a collective gasp and outbursts of crying from some of my companions.
It could only be a reaction to one thing.
I turned to face the Ark’s window: a giant panoramic glass shield protecting us from the cold vacuum of space.
Through it, I saw the planet Earth in its last moment of life.
The sky was dark. Clouds pumped out from the Destroyer, a by-product of its engines’ activities, were continuing to spread, blocking out the sun.
For the last four years those thick, dark clouds had spread from the Hawaiian Islands all across the world.
Australia had been in darkness for three full years. India for two, Africa for one. Europe, now the most densely populated continent on Earth, thanks to mass migrations, was the only place where the sun still sort of reached the ground
I was used to the clouds.
It was the rumblings that held my focus now.
Earthquakes had been spreading out from the Pacific, but I never felt them at home. Here, I felt them through the foundations of the base. Explosions from outside and vibrations through my feet sandwiched me between the effects of Earth’s destruction.
They said this would happen, the TV experts. They said that as the weight of the world’s water was removed the plates would shift and buckle. Now, the internal pressure of the Earth would suddenly find that the layer of crust it had been pushing against for millions of years was billions of tons lighter than usual. Add that the Destroyer was getting heavier and heavier with all the water it sucked up. The crust of the earth is very thin in comparison to the rest of its layers, like a crumbly pie crust. The Destroyer was sitting on a fault line as well, where the crust was already cracked. It was breaking the Earth from the outside, while the internal pressure broke Earth from the inside.
I looked at the TV that was in the corner of the room by the window.
The program was the BBC news studio and it was nearly empty, the reporters had long left their desk. The cameraman had let the camera drop, showing the floor of the studio. I thought I heard a faint voice say “Goodbye,” but the audio was muffled. It made sense. The end was nigh and so everyone had run home to be where they wanted to be. I was glad that they haven’t behaved like a film cliché where it suddenly goes to static. Why would it? Who bothers to turn off studio equipment when the world is about to end?
I smiled at my pithy observation, then the severity of my situation washed over me anew.
The TV offers no new news, but I know what’s happening. The five minute warning was going to happen when the world was ten minutes from destruction. By now the Hawaiian archipelago was destroyed and the explosion was cracking the surface of the Earth in new places.
Soon the Destroyer would take off and the compression wave from its engines would tear the planet to pieces.
The earthquakes were getting more intense, the base would topple soon.
Then the teleportation started, my salvation.
My body began to tingle.
I was told that this was the transmission procedure. Every atom of my body had to be identified.
Then spots started to dance in front of my vision and various body parts became disconnected. They were still there in a sense, but they were also somewhere else.
Now that it was happening I couldn’t do it.
I couldn’t go.
I gave up reason and logic and turned back to my family.
My mother cried. My father reached forward.
We were a family. We couldn’t just be separated like this. Not forever.
The teleportation was still happening. Parts of me were disappearing. I could see the shock and sadness in my mum’s eyes.
“I don’t want to go mum,” I cried.
“You have to,” she managed to stammer back.
“Mummy, what’s happening?” my brother asked in a muffled voice.
I reached out, trying to wrap my arms around all three of them. Maybe if my hands met they would be taken with me.
The tips of my fingers were centimetres away from each other. I could feel it. Just stretch a bit more.
Then the dancing spots filled my vision completely.
“No, no, no,” I yelled. But my voice was already teleported elsewhere.
My fingertips met.
My family was gone.
More correctly, I was gone.
I gasped and stared down at my empty hands
My eyes filled with tears. I couldn’t see exactly where I was, but I knew I was no longer on the army base. The air tasted different and there was a low level droning noise all around me. No more explosions or earthquakes. Just a cavernous drone. I could see through wet eyes that I was now in a much larger space.
I heard the shuffling of feet and others crying around me. I wiped my eyes on my sleeve and then saw exactly where I was.
I was on the Ark.
I had seen it before, on the tour that had been provided during our mission briefing. Then it was a virtual tour, not a real one. The Ark had already been placed in orbit by the time I was chosen
Filling the Ark around me were hundreds of other children.
Some were in the same state of shock as I was. Others were staring into space.
Then there was a collective gasp and outbursts of crying from some of my companions.
It could only be a reaction to one thing.
I turned to face the Ark’s window: a giant panoramic glass shield protecting us from the cold vacuum of space.
Through it, I saw the planet Earth in its last moment of life.
The Only One Watching
3
I joined the other children at the window.
A meter-high railing ran parallel to the glass for us to lean on. I grasped the rail to watch the end.
I had never seen the Earth from this vantage point before, and now could finally see just how bad things had become and how dead my world now looked.
I had seen broadcasts from around the world over the years of the chaos and fighting, which had ruined cities and the most impressive monuments on Earth.
Never though had I seen it like this. The food riots, nuclear strikes and small proxy wars were nothing compared to what my eyes now beheld.
One half of the planet was barren, a dark brown wasteland as if the deserts had multiplied and swallowed up half the Earth. The northern hemisphere was slightly blue and green in patches, but covered in dark clouds.
One whole continental plate in Africa had risen above the ones around it and was outlined bright red by the lava squeezing through the cracks. It looked like a giant version of one of those mountains in South America, from the classic film, Up. A section of land had risen upwards, a million square kilometre pillar of rock.
The planet had even changed shape, like a malformed, shrinking balloon.
It was a nightmare. This orb had been humanity’s home for so long, and we had believed it would stand for an eternity, a bastion of safety in a harsh universe.
Now it was a dying husk.
Worst of all my family was down there, completely unable to escape.
We were right above the Indian continent. Vicious cracks were appearing on the Earth’s surface. They were red, magma was rising to the surface. Down the line of children I saw one boy turn away. He had dark skin and curly hair. He must be the chosen Indian child. I didn’t blame him for not looking.
I wanted to turn away, but I couldn’t. I felt I owed it to those below to witness their ending.
I felt like Superman, or more accurately Superman’s father, Jor-el. It was like watching Krypton explode. My world was crumbling beneath me.
The Ark slowly moved away from the planet, getting clear of the disaster. Earth was getting smaller by the second.
Then the Destroyer came into view.
A stupid name in my opinion, a news corporation’s attempt to be dramatic. I didn’t like it because it was cheesy, I hated the name because it was so finite, so hopeless. ‘The Destroyer.’ This thing that had invaded our planet was going to win. It was a destroyer, unable to be stopped. I wondered why the human race tried to survive after giving it that name. Must be human nature.
The Destroyer was massive, and had pierced the Earth like the tip of a spear. The point of the vessel was embedded in the middle of the Pacific Ocean where Hawaii used to be.
The part of the vessel that wasn’t inside the Earth reached beyond the upper atmospheric layers. When it first landed numerous satellites that were in low orbit had smashed into it, including the International Space Station.
Snaking out from the vessel were pipes. They spread out into the atmosphere and the oceans.
They were like veins siphoning off the only two resources that matter on a habitable planet, water and air.
The Earth was almost empty of both.
From where we were I saw the vessel disconnect itself from the network of pipes it had laid, like the old space rockets breaking free of the towers that held them up before they traveled to the moon. Even from thousands of miles away I saw the explosions that occurred when the Destroyer broke away.
This was it.
I knew what was going to happen next.
The monster ship began to glow as it charged an engine near its tip.
The pulse from the engine would allow the massive ship to leave the Earth’s gravity.
The pulse was an intense burst of energy. On the news, I had seen a nuclear explosion on Earth before, and it was nothing compared to the flash that came from the Destroyer’s engines. It was so bright that I had to raise a hand to block out the intense light, which faded as quickly as it had shone.
I saw The Destroyer leave our world and head off into space.
The pulse’s shockwave, which we felt even in space, rippled through the Ark and everyone fell to the floor.
I grasped the rail and I alone stayed upright.
I was the only one to see the Earth blow up.
The pulse hit the core of the planet and through the cracks in the crust the same bright light shone outwards. For a moment my ugly, wreaked home-world glowed from within. Its last moment of beauty.
Then the Earth shattered.
The plates that made up the crust were thrown away and the glowing molten mantle of the planet was exposed.
The Ark sped away from the explosion and avoided the massive chunks of our former home that threatened to crush us.
The moon took multiple direct impacts and broke apart.
Only the iron core of the Earth remained where my homeworld had once been, a dull, dead stone floating in space.
Our home was gone.
My mum, my dad… Jack.
And I saw it all go.
Me. Callum Tasker.
A meter-high railing ran parallel to the glass for us to lean on. I grasped the rail to watch the end.
I had never seen the Earth from this vantage point before, and now could finally see just how bad things had become and how dead my world now looked.
I had seen broadcasts from around the world over the years of the chaos and fighting, which had ruined cities and the most impressive monuments on Earth.
Never though had I seen it like this. The food riots, nuclear strikes and small proxy wars were nothing compared to what my eyes now beheld.
One half of the planet was barren, a dark brown wasteland as if the deserts had multiplied and swallowed up half the Earth. The northern hemisphere was slightly blue and green in patches, but covered in dark clouds.
One whole continental plate in Africa had risen above the ones around it and was outlined bright red by the lava squeezing through the cracks. It looked like a giant version of one of those mountains in South America, from the classic film, Up. A section of land had risen upwards, a million square kilometre pillar of rock.
The planet had even changed shape, like a malformed, shrinking balloon.
It was a nightmare. This orb had been humanity’s home for so long, and we had believed it would stand for an eternity, a bastion of safety in a harsh universe.
Now it was a dying husk.
Worst of all my family was down there, completely unable to escape.
We were right above the Indian continent. Vicious cracks were appearing on the Earth’s surface. They were red, magma was rising to the surface. Down the line of children I saw one boy turn away. He had dark skin and curly hair. He must be the chosen Indian child. I didn’t blame him for not looking.
I wanted to turn away, but I couldn’t. I felt I owed it to those below to witness their ending.
I felt like Superman, or more accurately Superman’s father, Jor-el. It was like watching Krypton explode. My world was crumbling beneath me.
The Ark slowly moved away from the planet, getting clear of the disaster. Earth was getting smaller by the second.
Then the Destroyer came into view.
A stupid name in my opinion, a news corporation’s attempt to be dramatic. I didn’t like it because it was cheesy, I hated the name because it was so finite, so hopeless. ‘The Destroyer.’ This thing that had invaded our planet was going to win. It was a destroyer, unable to be stopped. I wondered why the human race tried to survive after giving it that name. Must be human nature.
The Destroyer was massive, and had pierced the Earth like the tip of a spear. The point of the vessel was embedded in the middle of the Pacific Ocean where Hawaii used to be.
The part of the vessel that wasn’t inside the Earth reached beyond the upper atmospheric layers. When it first landed numerous satellites that were in low orbit had smashed into it, including the International Space Station.
Snaking out from the vessel were pipes. They spread out into the atmosphere and the oceans.
They were like veins siphoning off the only two resources that matter on a habitable planet, water and air.
The Earth was almost empty of both.
From where we were I saw the vessel disconnect itself from the network of pipes it had laid, like the old space rockets breaking free of the towers that held them up before they traveled to the moon. Even from thousands of miles away I saw the explosions that occurred when the Destroyer broke away.
This was it.
I knew what was going to happen next.
The monster ship began to glow as it charged an engine near its tip.
The pulse from the engine would allow the massive ship to leave the Earth’s gravity.
The pulse was an intense burst of energy. On the news, I had seen a nuclear explosion on Earth before, and it was nothing compared to the flash that came from the Destroyer’s engines. It was so bright that I had to raise a hand to block out the intense light, which faded as quickly as it had shone.
I saw The Destroyer leave our world and head off into space.
The pulse’s shockwave, which we felt even in space, rippled through the Ark and everyone fell to the floor.
I grasped the rail and I alone stayed upright.
I was the only one to see the Earth blow up.
The pulse hit the core of the planet and through the cracks in the crust the same bright light shone outwards. For a moment my ugly, wreaked home-world glowed from within. Its last moment of beauty.
Then the Earth shattered.
The plates that made up the crust were thrown away and the glowing molten mantle of the planet was exposed.
The Ark sped away from the explosion and avoided the massive chunks of our former home that threatened to crush us.
The moon took multiple direct impacts and broke apart.
Only the iron core of the Earth remained where my homeworld had once been, a dull, dead stone floating in space.
Our home was gone.
My mum, my dad… Jack.
And I saw it all go.
Me. Callum Tasker.
