"Then, even then, Cassandra's lips unsealed the doom to come: lips by a god's command never to be believed or heeded by the Trojans."
- Virgil
---
The Voyager DSSPS-ICARUS 2242 floats above our once blue Earth like an artificial moon. Nicknamed the Icarus by its inhabitants, it is three kilometers long and 1.2 kilometers tall. The Deep Space Solar Powered Station, or DSSPS for short, is a behemoth in size and design, like the open maw of a bird flying sideways.
Long ago, when the first pioneers left our home to explore the planets and many moons of our home system, they first set aboard this very station to refuel and recuperate from their journey before returning back to Earth or setting sail to Luna, where they would wait for the rotation of their respective planet or moon's orbit to align with Luna.
Like many of those pioneers after the first generation, I believed my generation to be a mere footnote in history.
If only I knew how wrong I was.
---
I was born Lucius Agrius, four hundred years after the first pioneers set sail. A member of the final generation to be born on Earth's soil and witness its fading glory.
Being of the last descendants of the pioneers to be born on Earth but having lived most of our lives on the Icarus, my generation is considered inexperienced and young.
Even my old friend and mentor, Cassava, doesn't shy away from her doubts of my capabilities whenever I propose that I am old enough to join her and the Rangers for the planned expedition to Luna, the closest Colony near Earth.
While I pondered absentmindedly, Cassava seemed to have found me in my hiding spot at the viewing port. She slowly became more irate by my ignorance of her repeated clapping, snapping, and words.
"Lucius... Lucius... Agrius... Stupid name for a stupid person... Hey! I'm talking to you!" Cassava exclaimed loudly with a pout on her face.
Currently, I am enjoying some solace away from Cassava at the viewport of the station. But there is no rest for the wicked, let alone a wise-ass with someone like Cassava as one of their only friend in the station.
With a resigned sigh, I turn my gaze to my friend. "What the hell do you want now, Cassava?" I ask, annoyed at her interruption from my thoughts.
Cassava Viktoria is a brutish, tall woman just short of my nose. Her brunette hair is tied in a long ponytail, her azure eyes shining brighter than most things or people in this grim place. Yet despite being only three years my senior, she carries herself as though she's aged three decades beyond me, exuding an air of arrogance and confidence that borders on audacity.
"I'm bored and yearn for violence. C'mon, let's spar, frail one," Cassava declares with a shrewd shrug, walking away without even looking back to see if I am following.
---
One of the many facilities the Icarus has is a gymnastic and sparring center. Legends say that once, Publius Hattenberg, the man who designed this monstrosity of a ship and many more, tripped and fell, dislocating his ankle when he saw the view from it for the first time in deep space.
I do not blame him. The gigantic glass panels that surround the octagon-shaped gymnasium make the view of Earth below and Luna from afar look staggeringly beautiful in the backdrop of this... painful room.
I groan weakly as I feel Cassava's strong, yet delicate arms squeeze the life out of me in a triangle chokehold.
"Ca-cass..." I manage to rasp, my voice strained and rasped, "Y-you're... you're killing me, you fool..." My futile attempt to slap her arm falls short, a feeble gesture in the face of her stupidity. Is this brute even registering my words? Damnable... I can't go to sleep before my meeting with Ester later...
I feel my vision blurring before tasting the sweet release of her arms. I take in the artificial air of the station with renewed appreciation. I wheeze and cough, caressing my throat.
"Were you trying to kill me, you damn barbarian!?" I croak hoarsely, glaring at her with the fury of all my dead ancestors combined.
Cassava shrugs and smirks. "Blame your delicacy, Luc. Perhaps if you didn't skip supper to join Ester every night...." She let the words hang in the air, a faint trace of intrigue in her normally calm and playful voice.
Indignation flares within me as I retort, "Pardon me, but I'll have you know that our research is the fate of Humanity... The ones that survived the Fall anyway."
The colonies of Venus, Mercury, Mars, Deimos, Phobos, Luna, and the Outer Rim have long since gone radio silent. Were they also struck by the Fall, or did they think that Earth was long gone? Who knows? The Fall destroyed most communications, satellites, and ships within the thermosphere of Earth.
The Fall wasn't the worst part. It was the fog of war that ensued. Humanity had advanced far enough that they conquered their solar system, but that was when they cooperated and united in one singular goal. And they still were, for the most part.
But without communication, humanity fell within months.
Factions believed other factions launched EMPs the likes of which nobody had ever seen before and launched their own retaliation. Entropy and anarchy ensued as Earth cracked into a million pieces of warring states who used the supposed 'EMP attack' as Casus belli for their own feuds and greed.
Soon, the Shadows came. Creatures who were born in the deep darkness of the world. The vultures who came to dine on the corpse of Old Earth.
Then, after 300,000 years of sovereignty over their home, the Homo sapiens were eradicated and pushed out of Earth.
---
Much to my feigned indignation, Cassava decided to hang around me for the rest of the day.
Cassava lazily scrolls through her datapad as we lounge in the common area, the faint hum of the Icarus permeating the air around us. The view outside the viewport showcases the void of space, punctuated only by the distant twinkling of stars and the serene glow of Earth below.
"We should go out there," Cassava suddenly remarks, breaking the silence. Her voice holds a hint of longing, a yearning for the vast expanse beyond the confines of our artificial sanctuary.
My mouth opens in faint surprise. "Out where...? Into the ink?"
She nods, her eyes gleaming with curiosity and boredom. "Why not? There's so much out there to explore, to discover. We can't spend our lives cooped up in this metal cage."
I chuckle softly. "And what do you propose, Cass? We just float out into the void and hope for the best? Besides, we don't even know if there are Shadows out there in space too."
She grins mischievously. "Hope is part of the indomitable human spirit, isn't it? And floating out there is better than rotting away in this metal prison."
"Well," I shrug. "Hoping for the best was never much of a strategy now, was it? You think Romanus hoped for the best when he miraculously revived this station?"
Cassava raises her eyes to meet mine, challengingly, "Well." She begins, mocking my mansplaining tone. "Romanus was a once-in-a-millennium prodigy—I am... I am Cassava. And Cassava only knows how to break and sing."
I raise an eyebrow.
I croak a laugh, "Break? Sure. Sing? Now that's just beyond hoping." I instinctively roll my shoulder, anticipating a punch from her.
But she does not. Instead, my words seem to have made her lethargic.
"I do know how to sing, you know, Luc. Ain't anywhere to sing here. But back in my home—the slums, you wouldn't know, you've lived here your entire life," she scoffs before her eyes become distant once more.
"We used to sing to pass the time. And pass it did..."
She stands up from beside me, slowly stepping towards the glass panels overlooking Earth below.
"I think about it all the time. Earth," she says with a downcast look on her face. Slowly, she turns her head towards me, a forlorn smile on her lips.
"Tell me, Lucius, with all that knowledge and cunning in your mind... how does any of this make sense? How does Earth fall and not a word, ship, or telegram from the colonies ever grace us?" She clenches her fist until it turns white against the glass.
"How... how could they allow eleven billion souls to rot and perish without a word?"
Soon enough, she swallows the bitterness and mirth in her voice and eyes as quickly as it had appeared. "I almost forgot that you weren't even awake when it happened."
Her boots make an audible creak against the wooden floor as she makes her way towards me. She extends her hand and grasps my chin, squeezing lightly.
"I almost forget that you... that you aren't even human sometimes, Nəfīlīm."
And in those eyes, gone is the humor and familiarity of the mentor and friend I know. And welcome are the pure malice and madness she has felt since Earth fell so long ago.