Friday, May 30, 2014
Flash Fiction Friday: DNA
Diane closed the locker using a handhold for leverage as she floated in free fall. The door clanged and the sound echoed down the long, empty corridor.
"That's the last of them," she said more with sadness than relief.
"That's a billion," Mark growled. "More than enough." He was hovering nearby. He didn't need to be here but it was the last locker.
"Yes, but what about those left behind?" Diane turned to him, eyes bright with tears. "Why are we, why are they-" she flung and arm down the corridor "-the lucky ones.
Mark shook his head. "Over our pay grade, Diane. Don't worry about it."
"There's six billion who are very worried."
Mark frowned. "We have to stay focused and we have to stay on mission. We have a long trip ahead of us. We have a long trip to Kepler-186f."
"Five hundred light years," Diane grumbled.
"Come on," Mark said, "we need to prepare to leave orbit. Then we need to get ready for our 13-year journey. Just you and me, kid."
Diane smiled. They were chosen for this mission because they were compatible, personable, and, according to Earth's top psychological minds, destined to fall in love. It happened in training.
Then Diane's visage hardened. "Thirteen years for us travelling at nearly the speed of light, over 500 for Earth . By the time we get to 186f, it'll be over."
Mark frowned. "It's best not to dwell on that."
"How can I not, Mark? They will slaughter every man, woman, and child on the planet and make it their colony."
"They gave us the technology to do this. They gave us the technology to build this ship. To clone humans from DNA."
"At what price? Our planet?"
"Considering we lost the war, I think they were being generous."
Mark hoped she wouldn't be like this the entire trip. "Come on, let's get ready to leave orbit." Even he didn't dare say "Leave Earth behind."
Diane smiled slightly and using handholds they pulled themselves up the corridor toward the bridge. It would be nice when they were accelerating at one gee, no more free fall, Diane had to admit.
The corridor was long. It had to be, to hold one billion humans' DNA.