Homecoming
We are not returning. We are remembering.
Mars, 5000 Years Later
The girl ran in from school.
Red dust clung to her boots.
It always did.
“Grandfather,” she said, breathless,
“my teacher said something strange today.”
The old man did not look up.
“Teachers do that.”
“They said the new scans might justify sending probes to Earth.”
The girl laughed.
“Can you imagine? A dead planet.”
The old man’s hand stopped.
He’d heard it before,
years ago, in other mouths.
“They say maybe Earth can host life again,” she continued.
“Some students laughed.
Some said Earth stories are just myths.”
The old man asked,
“What did you say?”
“I said Earth is a legend,” the girl said.
“A folk story.
Like giants or flying oceans.”
The old man stood up slowly.
“Come,” he said.
He opened a hidden panel in the wall.
Inside was a small metal box.
The girl’s smile faded.
“What is that?”
“Something I shouldn’t keep,” the old man said.
“Something I have to.”
He took out a thin magnetic disc.
The girl frowned.
“That tech is ancient.
Why keep junk?”
The old man placed it in the reader.
The room filled with colour.
Blue.
Water moving.
Trees breathing.
Cities alive.
“This has to be fake…
no one’s seen Earth.”
The old man said,
“We have.”
The girl turned pale.
“You’re saying the myth is real?”
The old man nodded.
“But history says humans began on Mars,” she said.
“Five thousand years ago.”
The old man answered,
“That’s when we started lying.”
The girl shouted,
“Why would everyone lie?”
“Because the truth burns,” the old man said.
“And people sleep better without it.”
He sat down.
“We came from Earth,” he said.
“Not as conquerors.
As refugees.”
The girl shook her head.
“Earth destroyed itself?”
“No,” the old man said.
“We destroyed it.”
He continued.
“Small arguments.
Trade gaps.
Fights over energy routes.
Maps drawn with rulers and blood.”
The images changed.
Borders.
Missiles.
Fires.
“No one planned the end,” the old man said.
“Everyone planned to win.”
The girl whispered,
“Why hide this?”
“Because if Mars knew,” the old man said,
“Mars would do it again.”
Silence.
Then the girl asked,
“So when my teacher talks about settling Earth…”
The old man smiled without joy.
“We are not returning,” he said.
“We are circling our grave.”
The girl looked at the disc again.
“My friends will never believe me.”
The old man closed the box.
“That is how myths survive,” he said.
“Truth whispered.
Lies shouted together.”
The girl sat down slowly.
“Grandfather,” she said,
“will Mars also become a myth?”
The old man looked at the red dust outside.
“That…
depends on what you choose to fight over.”
This is beautiful storytelling. Its like the childhood stories we listen to with a "moral of the story". But this one is so well written. The realisation that this might happen in the future is almost haunting.
Amazing piece here!