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Section 8: The Spark of Life

Prologue: Beginnings

Even from here, Atlas is beautiful.

The source of the planet's namesake carried Earth on his shoulders in mythology, yet Atlas itself is below me. The "Home Away from Home." The jewel of the United States Empire. A lush, verdant paradise, its beauty dwarfing even that of Earth itself (or so say the world's inhabitants). And what's even more remarkable was that it was like this all along. A world just waiting to be discovered. No terraforming needed, no diseases that can't be immunized against, no problem animals that can't be dealt with. It's just…here.

Looking through a plasteel wall of one of Atlas Station's boarding lounges, I'm able to take it all in. So is the woman who's just walked up to the wall as well. I glance at her. She's also looking down.

"Nice view," I murmur.

She glances at me. She's old, I notice. Not that age really means much in this day and age, but the slightly wrinkled skin, the greying hair, the…weary look, in her eyes. Forty years my senior at least.

"Got a flight to New Madrid," I add, gesturing to gate seven. "Just taking in the view while I can."

She nods, but then goes back to staring. I press on – the only conversation I'll be getting over the next few hours are from stewardesses on the shuttle.

"I mean, it makes you wonder," I continue. "There's worlds like Atlas everywhere. But Atlas, Earth…we've never created anything as beautiful as them. Even after all that terraforming in the last century…I mean…"

"Maybe we should have been satisfied with what the universe gave us."

I glance at her. She meets my gaze. There's a look in her eyes, and it's not weariness.

"Nobody really mentions terraforming nowadays," the woman murmurs. "All the years spent trying to get planets suited for human habitation. All the stuff-ups, all the deaths, both human and alien…People are more interested in the destination rather than the journey."

I let her ramble. Must be an age thing, I suppose. Every former generation has something to complain about when they're surrounded by people of the current generation.

"But hey, sooner or later we'll have another sphere of expansion," the woman says, turning her gaze back to the planet below. "More worlds turned. For better or worse."

"Surely for the better though, right?" I ask.

"Why?"

"Well…more life? More room for human habitation? The galaxy's ours for the taking. We may as well grab it."

The woman looks down at the metal floor. She begins to chuckle.

"What?" I ask.

"Oh, nothing."

"Come on, tell me."

"Oh, you just remind me of someone I used to know," she says. She looks up at me. "Long story."

"Then tell me."

She doesn't have an answer for that.

"I'm serious," I add. "Hour from now, I'll be on my way to New Madrid. Few more hours, I'll be on the planet itself dealing with red tape that extends from here to Boreas. If you've got a story, I'm willing to hear it."

The woman smiles. She seems to welcome the prospect. Yet she looks…sad, somehow. She rubs her wrinkled hands together.

"New Madrid," she whispers. "One of many…"

"Many what?"

She ignores me. "I can tell a story," she says. "Been a long time since I've reflected on it. Never told anyone the full story before either. But you being in the position you are…heh…will you even care?"

I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that if you want to hear a story, you best sit down," the woman says, making her way to one of the seats by the plasteel wall, patting the one next to it. "Because it's quite a long one. And since my flight to Bellerophon leaves in thirty minutes, you don't have that much time."

I hesitate a moment. I could regret this. I could spend the next twenty minutes listening to tales of cats, dogs, and grandchildren. But…I want to know. And besides, if the story sucks, I've still got half an hour to make up for it.

So I take a seat. I'm ready for lift-off.

"Well, let's see…this story begins on Earth…"

And the ignition switch has been activated.