Friday, June 26, 2009

The Pilot

Without thinking.

Without blinking.

He touched it forward, moved the 40 million ton spacecraft into place.

A new world, the colonists would never know the truth.  This new world was tainted.  But all he had to do was leave their shuttle on the surface.  Leave them there.  The desert planet, barely terraformed, barely there at all, would be their holy land.

“Welcome home.” He said it with a hollow voice.  These were people, inadequate and genetically inferior, but people nonetheless.

That wasn’t his job though.

He engaged the landing sequence, didn’t even notice that he had.

People all deserve opportunities, he surmised.  They had none back home.  Their inadequacy had been pushed to the limit of human functionality.  Robots had long ago replaced the menial work they could do; now they were vestigial organs holding the human race back.

The screen flashed and told him that the shuttle was ready to depart.  He didn’t need to read the screen though.  He tapped the approval codes in.

Without thinking.

Without blinking.

Everyone deserves the best chance.  He thought it.  Believed it.  This rock was their best chance now.

He looked momentarily at the green button.  He pressed his finger to the green button.  It chimed.

Good luck, he thought.

And he took off.

Without thinking.

Without blinking.