Day 5 #julywritingchallenge

So I missed a day, with all the ‘merican festivities going on procrastinating was too easy. One of the future posts will just be double length to make up for it.

I read an article about the discovery of a new potentially habitable exo-planet very similar to earth according to the Earth Similarity Index. This planet experiences all four seasons in 35 days. So I started playing with the idea of humanity making it Gliese 832c (currently it would take like 68 thousand years, our satellites are REAL slow..).

But the prompt turned out to be better than expected, I fleshed some characters out and built a bit of story structure. I’ll definitely come back to this or continue it in the coming days.

***I’ll edit this beast tomorrow, its late and life is calling**
Calls went through to machines and voice mails weren’t left. Cars were put in drive to never be driven again. Expeditions were began that never reached a destination. In seconds it happened. Water turned on at the time, overflowed sinks and flooded buildings. Nature would eventually creep back in and take what was hers, winning the game of patience. It wasn’t supposed to occur for months. But somebody flipped the switch. It always happened that way, great plans were made by paranoid men too anxious to actually pull the trigger. Then over some sundry conflict someone with power would make a mistake that others would pay for. It happened and there wasn’t anything anyone could do about it, but that’s not good enough for High Chancellor Liset. His board of directors urged him to let the dead lie, albeit quietly. The last board met an unfortunate end after pushing a civil rights case too far. The two hundred and eighty six that survived the ‘Journey’ needed closure, the only way to get said closure. Liset would tell anyone stuck listening to him was to find out who initiated the teleporter.

The group of men standing before the gnarled chancellor stood in a straggled line in a mockery of attention. Their eyes were dark with stress and malnutrition, and their fatigues had clearly seen better days. Liset looked at the haggard group, all five of them had lost everything. Nobody knew why a few survived, although to call their new life survival was a joke. He pulled up a small map on his computer and pointed out where the controls were located. The Kansan missile silo had been converted to a the Jearios Resarch Project decades before, after discovering Gliese 832c in 2014. Liset droned on about the access hatches and the external security protocols that would need to be overridden.

Corporal Malas, couldn’t give two shits about any of it. This was a one way trip as far he was concerned. His eyes glazed over and he tried hard to remember the faces of his wife, and daughter. They had been vaporized in the catastrophe with everyone else. To his right Kent stood with his arms crossed and his teeth clenched tight, Liset had restricted the water to his zone and he saw first hand what happened. The lines wrapped around the towering apartment complexes normally. When Lisets water conservation plan passed the water rations of outlying zones were cut by an oz. The inner 4 zones of the city that held the large bureaucracy after all needed their 24oz each morning. To ask such esteemed members of society to give more than they already do was blasphemous. Kent saw red and silently dared Liset to meet his gaze. His anger ridden face was in stark contrast to the mousy man standing at the end of the line. His mustache still impeccably groomed considering what they had been through, he shifted his weight constantly and mumbled to himself every few minutes. Liset had rudely assured everyone that Fin had passed the med checks to participate on the mission, Fin never spoke aloud and rarely made eye contact. The group as a whole was rather pleased that the guards at the entrance door had stripped Fin of his long rifle. Jace stood on the far left next to a short man who called himself Spark. Jace was star struck, and ate up every word of Liset’s less than detailed attack plan.



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