The Last Sun

Hi! That's my first attempt to write something in English, so I hope it's better than I think. It's just something I was eager to share.

***

One… Two… Three… I hope I’m recording, otherwise – it doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters anymore.

My name is Sunset. Yes, if you think it’s rather ironic, you’re right. In case you’re wondering about my family name – it’s 9118293843. However, these facts don’t hold any meaning to you. Nothing matters anymore.

My story isn’t very long. I was born 33 years ago. Now, I’m on the board of the spaceship “Soleil”, where I have been living for as long as I remember. Yes, all this is like a huge evil joke. I don’t do anything important with my life. Every day I make a recording of a story – the one you’re listening to is number 8900. But this one is special. I hope you’ll pay attention.

I am a consequence of the futile attempt of the human to outlast the Universe. These stories are the only point of my existence. Yes, it might seem rather ironic there is nobody whom I can share them with. Nevertheless, this, like everything else, doesn’t matter.

“Soleil” is the last remaining spaceship in the Universe. Its crew numbers seven people – me, Captain Frank, our navigator Elisa, Lin, who we all call just The Dreamer, professor Everest, Rose and Nightingale. We have been living together on the board since Nightingale was born 25 years ago. She is the only one born here. Everyone else is a part of other spaceship’s crew that has long ago disappeared somewhere in the Space. There is no one remaining but us. We are the last humans in the world.

And this evening we are witnesses to the down of the last star in the Universe.

Our world is pretty small – it consists of “Soleil”, the tiny planet Utopia orbiting the Last Sun. Around us there’s nothing but dust and remnants of stars, planets and galaxies that has died long ago. Today the Universe is a dark and cold space. There’s no life. No stars and planets. Only our so small world has survived. However, this doesn’t matter.

You might think I feel sorry that I’ve ever been born and you’ll probably be right. I feel sorry that I live, yes. There are days I want to dissipate in the empty space, to disappear into nothingness, where the whole humankind must have gone by now. Despite of this, I haven’t committed suicide. There’s still something I have to say, something to give to the world. It doesn’t matter there’s no one to hear me.

Every one of us has found a different way to cope with the situation. Lin spends almost every minute in the Simulator, or, as we call it, the House of the past. We only see him at dinner. Many people have ruined their life like that – they dwell on dreams and sooner or later lose themselves in delusions. Eventually they lose touch with reality. Yes, they go mad but madness has never been considered improper on the board of “Soleil”.

Professor Everest has devoted his life to science. The volume of his work is over million pages. His impact on today’s scientific progress is unprecedented. But who cares when there are only seven people remaining in the Universe? Really, it’s rather ironic.

Rose is responsible for the decoration of “Soleil”. Some days I wake and can’t find my way to The Headquarters because the hallways are transformed into some exotic jungle or narrow galleries. If it wasn’t Rose, our lives would be unbearable monotonous and gray. She is the one who look after us and can always smile no matter what.

Nightingale is the best virtuoso ever to be born in the world. It’s usually hard to communicate with her – a word rarely escapes her mouth except when she sings. She says her heart is full of music, which must be set free. When Nightingale stares at you, it feels like you’re a glass and her gaze passes through it. When she plays, the world obeys her. You can get lost in her music, to forget who you are and where you come from. If magic could ever been expressed, it would be through her songs. I find myself fortunate to know her. I am one of the six people who are to see her genius.

Elisa is the person I owe my life to. She looks like a little devil and is capable of putting you on edge at every possible moment. She has seen the end of several spaceships. Her courage and self-possession are the reasons for me to exist today. Elisa, by all means, is an extraordinary person. Unfortunately the time we live in doesn’t give her anything to do but save the last representatives of humankind. She is still searching for survivors in the empty space. All of us, counting her as well, know that there’s no one else and we are the last humans. This doesn’t matter.

Captain Frank is the only sane person on board. He is one of those unyielding people who you always rely on. When it comes to taking an important decision, he is the one who has a say. I pity him. I should feel guilty for living in a world where the last sane human is doomed to live with six madmen to the end of his life. But does it even matter?

On the lower ground of “Soleil” there’s a room whose walls and floor are made of some strange invisible material. We rarely meet there because the sight of the dark empty space makes you feel bad. Only Elisa spends most of her time in the room staring at nothingness as if expecting to find somebody there.

When you stand in the centre of the room you get the feeling that the whole Universe wraps around you and you are a little, imperceptible mot, just an evanescent that means nothing. Beneath your feet are the bare, strikingly blue deserts of Utopia. The climate is harsh and deadly. The whole planet is covered by some strange bluish ice-like mass. When the sun shines it looks as if someone has set on fire a frozen ocean. Yes, this is Utopia – a cold and dead planet, illuminated by the rays of a dying star. Of the last sun in the Universe. How ironically.

This morning I went there before breakfast. Lately I visited it more often than not in order to take a quick glance at the small world that is doomed to die in front of my eyes. Elisa wasn’t at her usual position although lately she seemed to never abandon it. I walked to the center of the room, staring at the endless space around me. The red dying rays of the Last Sun danced on the bluish surface of Utopia.

“You haven’t recorded stories at the last weeks, Sunset.”

I hadn’t noticed when Captain Frank has walked into the room. He came closer and then stopped, sighing. His steel-grey eyes roamed over the grim landscape.

“I’m working on a special story”, I said after awhile. In the last few days I was spending my mornings in the House of the past. After that I would go back to my room. The small disc I intended to record my story on was awaiting me as ever. Yet, there was always something that held me back. I used to believe I have beaten the doubts that everything I do is pointless long ago. I started to spend more time in the House of the past. There, in the other world that the Simulator was creating in my mind I was a normal person and I had a normal life. There were many many people, planets, inhabited by millions different species, so many things were happening… I used to limit my time in the House of the past like everyone else but the Dreamer. The other world is beautiful and desirable but it’s still an illusion. The people who give up to the entrancing power of the Simulator gradually lose touch with reality, but are not capable of forgetting the world they chose to leave. Sooner or later all of them commit suicide or just spend all of their time in the House of the past, refusing to eat. The Dreamer will face his end like that but it’s not our right to judge the way other people have chosen to live. Our existence is pointless anyway. The human can’t outlast the Universe.

This is my special story. Today is the last day of life of the Last sun. Tomorrow the fuel supplying his scarlet flames is going to be not enough to maintain its life. Tomorrow the Last sun is going to expand, reaching unbelievable size, it is going to engulf Utopia – the planet it has been shining on for billions years. After becoming witnesses to the last sunset of the last sun in the Universe, we are going to drive away and spend the rest of our lives in the darkness of the never-ending night.

I have been present to the death of another star although I remember nothing. I must have been approximately three years old when the crew of the ship where I was born has decided to put an end to the insanity of hope. They chose to die with the star.

Yet, they could not revoke the right of a three-years-old child to live. They put me in a small capsule and launched me in Space with the hope that some spaceship will take me on board. Several months later Elisa found me. “Soleil” is the only home I have ever known.

We come here from different places. Every one of us is a prolongation of billions years’ human history – a story for the continuous fight of men versus men and human versus nature. I am a child of hope, no matter how insane it is, of the belief in world’s “tomorrow”.

Tomorrow the last sun of the Universe is going to die.

We all met at breakfast, even the Dreamer had left the House of the past and was standing there, staring unblinkingly at us. His skinnier body remained us about the Simulator’s curse. Lin won’t last long. Soon there will be six of us on the board of “Soleil”. However, this doesn’t matter.

Nobody said anything. Even Rose’s smile looked withered. Elise was nervously glancing at the door, too impatient to go back to the room with invisible walls. Professor Everest was staring at the air with blank expression. Nightingale was tapping the floor with her leg following the rhythm of a melody only she was hearing.

“Tonight is a memorable night”, said professor Everest. It seems that the scientist inside him is excited by the fact that he is going to see the last down of the Last sun. A sigh escaped Rose’s lips, then she forced a wide smile.

We all live with our small tragedies. Yet, when the whole world consists of us, “Soleil”, Utopia and the Last sun, the small tragedies turn into worldwide problems.

“We can still quit”, Captain Frank quietly said. Elisa gave him a scornful look. Nobody respond. The decision was taken in silence. We have been living together for as long as I can remember. We don’t need words to understand each other.

We will live. We are the last people and we will live. It won’t be because of our duty to humankind. Not even because our life is so important to us. No, we will live just because we are humans. Despite of denying it, we won’t give up hope no matter how pointless it is. We will live trough our big small tragedies.

Tonight we are meeting at the room with invisible walls. Everyone will do whatever pleases him and then we are gathering together. Lin is going to stay at the House of the past, professor Everest is going to continue with his scientific work, Nightingale is going to set free the music locked in her heart. Elisa would stare at nothingness, waiting as ever. Perhaps Rose and Captain Frank will spent the time together – she trying to make him smile, he trying to forget the pointlessness of his life. And Sunset… Sunset is telling his story to a small disk that he is later going to launch it Space. He doesn’t care if his words are going to disappear in the darkness of the never-ending night. It’s because I have so many things to tell and there’s nobody to listen.

When the time comes, we will meet at the room with invisible walls. We won’t tell anything. We know each other, we don’t need words. We will stand side by side, staring at the scarlet rays of the Last sun, their dance on the ice-cold surface of Utopia. Every one of us will think about the things that used to be and will never be again. The most terrible part of our life is the solitude.

Then, sooner or later, the Last sun is going to set down and sink in the bluish deserts of Utopia. It will look like an ocean has fallen asleep and the last scarlet tray left by the light will fade away. “Soleil” is going to depart. Tomorrow the bigger part of our so small world is going to die. Only we, “Soleil” and the soulless Universe are going to remain.

And I will continue to tell my stories. Otherwise my existence will be absolutely pointless. I will try to resist the House of the past. Some of us will fail at that. The others will live with their tragedies.

There are so many things I wish to say. That our world and hope, and the belief in tomorrow’s day, the memory of our “yesterday” are simply pure insanity, a huge and evil joke of the Universe. I carry with me the history of humankind – I’m its Sunset. And I’ll live, I’ll live although tomorrow the last sun of the Universe is going to explode, destroying the bigger part of my so small world. I will live despite the insanity of my whole life. It’s because I’m a human. Because there are still so many things I wish to say.

But there’s no one to listen.