It was a hot morning in the desert. The place was so dry I couldn’t believe any life would survive there. The soil was contaminated by radiation, the underground water also presented a high level of contamination. The sterile and solitary building was there only as a portal to the space station Earth II.

It was a hot morning in the desert. The place was so dry I couldn’t believe any life would survive there. The soil was contaminated by radiation, the underground water also presented a high level of not welcoming residues. The sterile and solitary building was there only as a portal to Earth II space station. 

“This way, Dr.” A young man, using the same uniform as everybody around was pointing the path to the plane embarks. Took me some time to understand the meaning of their clothes. The nanotechnology engineer fabric protected them from the effects of the radiation. The helmets-controlled luminosity was also a kind of screen to transmit information worldwide. The gloves covering the hands permitted them to touch any surface without contaminating themselves or anything. All in intense blue with bright points, it was like be clothed with the ancient sky, the one before the great extinction. I still dreaming about that sky and understood their clothes was a message about what we lost and where we were going. Losing paradise had pushed us to search in the middle of heaven, the big unknown, for a new place. 

“Dr, please.” The young man pointed out a kind of room. “You should decontaminate first.”

There I was, alone in a room with dark walls, no place to seat. What should I do know? Like it was reading my mind, the computer began the instructions. Removing my clothes I put then in a hole that appeared in the wall. I knew they will be cremated, broke in the essential elements and the recreated in something else. Some kind of mist filled the room. Cold, without any smell, its pick my skin making it burn as I was immersing in a bathtub filled with boiling water. I looked to my arms, no marks the skin was really glowing. It was only a sensation. The process ended. I was now naked, waiting for somebody to bring me new clothes. No door open, just another hole opened, and something similar to the guards’ clothes was there, waiting for me. 

The first impression was the clothes were too big. After had lived the dictatorship in Brazil and Venezuela, the times of Trump’s presidency and the shadow of the British nationalism, I had learned not to discuss or make any comment about the discomfort or uncertainty about something. Just accept and move on. To my surprise, in the second I put the clothes on, they adapted to my size and built as my skin had when I was growing up. Now, the blue fabric touches me like hands ready to please. They had delighted me. They were comfortable and healthy and made my body look athletic. A door on the opposite side the one I enter opened, and a voice asked me, gentle, to move to the next room. It was a room without walls, and the first impression was I had stepped outside. However, it was an illusion. The walls were transparent, and all the light of the desert invaded the place. There was beauty there—that isolation running to the horizon the bright sun breaking to the polluted air, the silence. Everything made me think about the time I had spent in a country called then Turkey. A long time ago, religious experience, wrong choices.

Another door opened, and now a corridor with the same transparent walls leads me to a plane parked. It was my flight to the dock from where our mission will take to space.

I stopped. The plane was so white that the light reflected creating a beautiful rainbow around it. “But… There isn’t water here?” Rainbows and rain were my fondest memories the time I lived in Brazil. The tropical rain in the afternoons was intense but not prolonged, and at the end, the sun insisted on breaking in through the clouds illuminating the water in the right angles. Gigantic, complete rainbows appeared in the skies, making you believe in magic, gods or whatever. “Will I find a pot of gold at the end of this rainbow?”

I was the only passenger on the plane. To be honest, I was the only human there. A voice alerts me to the imminent take-off. Our time to the space station will be six hours. I seated in the black seat, and it’s embraced me. The gravity force has begun to act instants after the take-off. Each increase in the pressure was an increase in my seat’s size. Soon it was like a bubble sheltering my fragile body from the futile Earth’s attempted to keep me there. I wasn’t an earthling anymore; I will be a “universeling” in a few hours. 

The space station was surprisingly crowded. There were three spaceships docked waiting for their tribulation. Each one had a name mentioning great souls who had sacrificed themselves to save the species. Spaceship Greta was my destination. The name was a tribute to a young woman fighting against all the greed and inconsistency of human choices. She lost, but it did not mean she would retreat and give up. I was proud to be part of the attempt to save humanity. But I was prouder of the millions who had fought against the lies that had brought us here. 

Once more, no human contact on my embark. It was surgical, precise as a machine controlled every millisecond, every small change in my body language, monitoring the universe and the beings living there. Soon, I was in my cocoon that will be my home for the next 1408 years. 1408 an exciting number. Adding all its number we have 13, adding again we have 4. Four was the number of solidities, patience, wisdom. Many believers from the past believed the number four was connected to the future. Yeah, the future. A robot came to my cocoon and injected something in my body. I felt like I was falling into an abyss without end before the darkness comes, moving my mind and body to a silent sleeping.

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