Survivors II

From http://apod.nasa.gov/apod/

I got enough control of my fear to respond. I wasn’t sure I liked his speech, so I said; “What’s the big secret? I’m sure there is a point to this lecture.”

He broke a slight grin and after a few moments he replied in an even quieter voice; “I am afraid you misunderstand me. I’m not here to scold you or your silly kind. The difference between us is scale not kind. It was a war that brought me here, not some great desire to get the last word of dying world. Our wars are just longer and more far-flung than yours. My ship was attacked, and I figured this dying rock would buy me a little more time. I was the only survivor. Like so many others, I want to live, even if it was only a few more hours or minutes.”

I really understood his last words. Oh, the things I had done for the same ends.

He added, “I should not be surprised by our similarities, but I always am. I have nothing to live for but my next breath, like you. I thought I was different, but I’m not. We cannot escape what we are, no way. Where I come from knowledge is the key. But we have failed to learn from mistakes like yours, so we will end up like you- a dead end life form. It will take a little longer , that’s all”.

I asked him, “So what kind of knowledge do you kill for? Was it the same kind of crap we killed for here? Did you see what was there or what you wanted to be there?

“It was not quite the same things you used to look for, but the reason is always the same, power. It’s always is the bottom line. Power over death and each other is what we all seek. Knowledge is the means.”

I wanted to know one more thing from him. “Why did you seek me here on this high rock? You came to me remember?” “Knowledge.” was his reply.

“You already knew my story, even before you saw me. Why climb the hill?”

“Hope... But there is none here.”

We stared off into the glow of the reddish sky. There were few stars visible and nothing but lifeless sand below. His breath became heavier and heavier as the life drained out of him. He could not get enough air. The Specter broke the stillness once more.

“Do you have a way to record our little talk?”

I told him I could write it down, but it was doubtful if anyone would ever read it.

“Survivor. Let it be our little gift to posterity.” He said in a low whisper.

I asked if there was anything else I could do for him. Something about him demanded respect. I don’t know if it was his age, wisdom, or continuous unforgiving stare.

“No... It is time for me to leave you now. My suffering is almost at an end. I’m sorry I can’t say the same for you, unlucky survivor!”

With that, he faded back into the warm still night. Blaze looked nervously at me. He was still the whole time. Was the Specter real? We did not know. I still don’t. I guess he was real enough. Maybe the night was playing with my tortured soul. There was no sleep the rest of that night. The hours passed painfully slow. A little before dawn, I saw a tower of red and yellow flame on the desert floor below. The Specter suffered no more. Now, I write this all down as he asked. It was many years ago, how many I don’t know. What year is it any way?

The Specter was right. I suffered. It is a byproduct of surviving. Now at last, my time is almost over and I will suffer no more. Too bad I can’t say the same for you unlucky survivor!