by M. R. Holman
the futures of entire civilizations?
Entire histories and cultures would be gone. Thousands if not millions of years of advancement would be snuffed out in a moment if he reached the sea.
And for what? To live out the remaining years before the LHP's star burnt out on this strange, last resort planet? To wait with bated breath for one hundred years while each race and civilization that traveled to the planet in hopes of survival, in hopes of prolonging their irresistible urge to duplicate and lengthen their existences died of dehydration or poisoning?
The young man's shoulders slumped against the boulder and he rested the LifeBlood in his lap, looking out at the sea. He could smell the water on the breeze. It was the first time he had ever experienced such a sensation.
But what if he did not deliver the LifeBlood to the ocean? What would happen then?
Would the fate of the universe be any different? Not likely, he thought.
No matter what he did, the future of life in the universe seemed utterly dark and depressing. It was now just a race against the universe's clock that was ticking its way ever nearer to the final death knell when it would strike its last and even the LHP would no longer be habitable.
He could not wait any longer, the cries were nearing. What would he do?
Would he doom all, or save his own civilization?
The young man thought of his time on the starship, of young children that were not yet burdened with the full concept of their conditions. He thought of his comrades who gave their lives without a second thought. Why was he having such trouble with this? No one else seemed to...
Finally, he rose to his feet. He was going to do it. There was no time left for thinking. If his fellow soldiers were willing to do it, why should he not?
He ran. He tucked the LifeBlood under his arm and tried not to think of all of the lives he would soon be responsible for ending as he ran faster than he ever had in his life.
Great strides assisted by the forces of gravity carried him down the side of the dune to the flattened beach. He chanced a glance over his shoulder and saw the first of the pursuing army's members cresting the ridge.
Pulses and beams and projectiles rained down in the sand surrounding him. There was no escaping the killing, there was no escaping death. No matter what happened, that was the one inevitability. The LHP was where civility came to breathe its last.
He thought as he ran, in between long breaths and the sound of his scurrying feet shifting the sand, did every civilization react the same when they discovered their time was coming to a close?
Did some accept their fate? Or did all of them spring to action to wring out the very last instances of life before it all was over?
He could hear the waves crashing against the shore. A beam caught his sleeve and singed his elbow, causing him to wince and lose rhythm of his breathing.
For a moment, he faltered. He regained his composure when he realized the amount of assault that he was receiving.
'Squeeze the LifeBlood package ONLY when inside immediate area of water source. Rip open the seam, release the contents, and depart IMMEDIATELY.'
The young man was well aware of the instructions on the packaging. They were burned into his mind. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the words - his only goal.
He knew that escaping back to the starship would not be an option. It likely had never been an option. The army would surely execute him if the poison did not kill him first. It was supposed to work fast and spread through the water even faster...
Thirty feet - he squeezed the package. He felt it froth and vibrate as the separate components met in the bag.
Twenty feet - he began to tear the seam, his gut seemed to have dropped from his body as he considered one last time if what he was doing was right, or if 'right' even existed here and now.
Ten feet - ocean spray splattered against his face. He took the LifeBlood in his right hand and prepared to chuck it into the sea.
A lead projectile caught him squarely between the shoulders. The force of the impact killed the young man instantly and caused his body to slide across the sand, the LifeBlood still clutched in his right hand.
The army paused on the dune behind him. They watched as the young man's lifeless body was caught by a wave and carried to the sea. What they thought was their victory was their ultimate demise. They could not see the LifeBlood spreading instantly and invisibly to the horizon.
In moments, every molecule of water would be contaminated. It would remain contaminated for ninety-nine years. Until then, the Last Habitable Planet would not live up to its name.
Death Touched the Stars
Death was walking up the side of a mountain. It was a rare moment that it could take its time, and it relished in the opportunity to do something as simple as walking.
As much as it grieved and embarrassed Death, it looked and behaved an awful lot like the Grim Reaper that was often used to portray it. It seemed that those who were near their end but cheated Death had gotten a good enough glimpse of it to form an accurate image.
It had no time to dwell on that at the moment, however. It had more pressing matters to attend to.
One of the few remaining humans on Earth had climbed a mountain in search of food. They would, unfortunately, be unsuccessful.
Death found the mountain climber huddled beside a jagged rock, shaking from the cold. He was exceedingly skinny.
"I was wondering if you'd show," the mountaineer said. It was clear that he was delirious. His eyes could hardly focus on the cloaked figure that approached him.
Death did not speak to the man. Although it was acquainted with every being that had passed from life, it had not spoken to any of them. It made short work of the mountaineer, gathering the man's life into his cloak. Death turned back.
It would have to visit those that camped at the foot of the mountain as well. They had been depending on the man to bring them back food.
The sun-starched Earth that passed beneath the hem of its cloak had once been green with healthy grass. It had once been trod upon and chewed by animals, but Death had put a stop to that.
It took no joy in its duties, but it took no sorrow either. It had a position to fulfill in order to retain the balance of the universe, and it performed its position well.
The camp at the bottom of the mountain occupied Death for only moments. It had to be elsewhere.
In a flick of its cloak, it was on the opposite end of the galaxy. An uprising was taking place and a dictator had only moments left before their mega-planet fell into another's hands. Death ensured that that happened.
It had returned to Earth less than a second later. Its time there was coming to a close for good. It would only have to return there a few more times before it moved on forever - on to other planets and galaxies that still bustled with life and required its services.
It walked through towering skyscrapers and across deserts accompanied by nothing other than howling winds and blowing debris. Earth had been a peculiar little planet. Death's services were called upon elsewhere but they could wait for a moment while it took in the last moments it would be there.
With one final look around the formerly blue and green planet Earth, Death gathered the last vestiges of life into its cloak, leaving Earth completely devoid for the first time in billions of years - leaving it the way it would remain from that point on.
For a time, Death was busy. It bounced around from planet to planet around the galaxy and beyond, fulfilling its duties. Time was nearly meaningless to the being that was the absence of being.
Eventually, Death became called upon far less often. Life did not remain in the universe at that time, at least not life in a cellular form.
Death traipsed through the universe. Its utterly black form was swollen with the life it had gathered during its long career.
A star, red and bulging, exploded at Death’s touch. Others would collapse in upon themselves and become black holes. It gathered their energies into its
cloak and placed it alongside the life it had collected.
On and on, time after time… Death moved from star to star, extinguishing all light and warmth from the universe and stowing it away in its ever stretching cloak.
Death moved slowly toward the last shining star in all of the universe, its cloak stretched tightly. It longed for rest. Time was finally catching up to Death itself.
With one quavering hand, Death reached out and touched the final star and watched it begin its final sequences as the cloak absorbed its energy.
Though it took millions of years to complete the sequence, Death's skewed perception of time thought it to be only seconds.
Death ceased to be as its cloak burst forth, scattering energy and matter and the life it had captured since the beginning of time in all directions across a renewed universe. The cycle was complete and could begin once more.
Remnants of Death's cloak were flung far apart. Slowly, they would make their way back together, but Death would not be called upon again for a very long time.
A brief note to the reader:
I just want to take a moment to thank you for taking the time to read my book. I wholeheartedly hope that you enjoyed it! Stay tuned for more books and stories in the not-too-distant future.
About the author:
M. R. Holman was born in a place some time ago. He eats and breathes and does things aside from writing from time to time, but a good chunk of his time is devoted solely to writing stories. He hopes to one day have a tiny house on a