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“Be good,” Steve says.
“Don’t worry. I’ve got this,” I assure them. I can see them hesitating. It’s quite gentlemanly really, for them to think twice about leaving me here. “I’m going to earn my cut.”
The reminder of all the money at stake here spurs them back into action. Kurt shoos me out the ship’s door with a hustling gesture that makes him look momentarily like a large ginger housewife with a mustache.
I go straight to my new quarters. The door opens for me in a smooth and comforting way, like it was expecting me.
Welcome to Survivorbox! Your home away from home!
The cabin welcomes me cheerfully. I’ve done some short stretches in these things before, much closer to Earth. I’ve never stayed anywhere as long as I’m going to have to stay in this one.
Tell me your name, inhabitant.
“Penelo…”
“Mehhehh!” Bilbo interjects suddenly, appearing with goat-y suddenness.
Welcome to your new home, Penelomeeh!
Damn it, there’s no way to reset that once the Survivorbox thinks it knows who you are. I’m going to be Penelomeeh for as long as I’m here. Still. If that’s the worst thing that happens today, it’ll be fine.
I look around, finding it pretty much as I remembered. It’s not large, and most of the spaces in it are multifunctional. The couch is also the bed and the dining room and the office, and you get the idea. The wall is the wall as well as a screen and a food dispenser.
The door shuts behind Bilbo and me, then opens again to let Bilbo out, then opens again to let Bilbo in, and so on and so forth as Steve addresses me over the intercom.
“Alright, we’ll be in touch as soon as we can. We should be able to stay within radio range for a week or so,” Steve’s voice comes over the intercom. I have to admit I’m going to miss talking to people. Kurt had some interesting opinions on almost everything in the universe, and Steve knows more than anybody, even more than the ship’s computer about other things.
“Okay. I’m going to come out and watch you take off,” I say.
“Alright, keep a good distance,” Steve says. “Don’t want you being vaporized in the wash.”
“I’ll be safe. You make sure you’re safe,” I say.
It feels like we should be saying something more meaningful and deep, that there’s more to be said that isn’t coming out of our mouths. There are times in life that simply hold too much weight for words, and this is one of those times.
They take off, because that’s the next thing to do. There’s a swooshing sound as the ship heads for the upper atmosphere and then a…
Boom!
I watch, stunned, shocked, and then horrified as the vessel that I called home for the past year is obliterated in an explosion of its own making. Steve and Kurt are gone, flashes of hot dust.
“What the actual… Steve! Kurt!” I scream their names into the intercom, but nothing besides the hiss of static comes back. The connection is gone. They are gone. Everything is gone. Everything is over. This is the fucking end.
There will be no registering this planet on Earth. There will be no rescue. Nobody knows we’re here, me and Bilbo, because this planet was supposed to stay a secret right up until it was registered. We never discussed what was supposed to happen if the registration mission went awry, probably because the reality was unthinkable.
I am numb. I feel as though what I’ve seen wasn’t real. Terrible things are hard that way. There’s no reference point for them, no way to compare. They’re just astounding, astonishing, awful… I feel the universe rushing in on me, my solitude suddenly magnified a million times over.
I want nothing more than to go back in time and stop them from leaving, save them somehow. But what’s done cannot be undone. What has exploded into a thousand pieces can never be un-exploded.
Tears trace down my cheeks. Steve and Kurt were my family. We were going to become rich and powerful all together. It was going to be the start of something new. Something…
It doesn’t matter what it was going to be. It’s not going to be that anymore. Now it’s just me completely alone, nobody to come for me, at least until some other company comes here and probably tries to kill me so they can leave their own inhabitant behind.
I was not prepared for this. I was never trained for it. Most professional planetary residents are ex-military survivalist types who can make do with anything anywhere, but they charge a lot of money. More than Kurt ever wanted to pay. He just needed a living human, and I am a living breathing human, one who is now marooned on a planet all alone.
“Meeh.” Bilbo reminds me I am not alone. I have a goat.
