Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down

It's a beautiful day to die. I look up at the azure sky to observe Old Earth's Sun gazing happily back at me. The Sun's feeling rather joyful today. Perhaps it's the promise of an entertaining day. I can feel the warm breeze toss my hair about playfully, and I enjoy the fleeting sensation that perhaps all will turn out all right. But the moment passes, and the cold truth weighs heavy on my heart. The faint strains of an eerie song reach my ears from a distant playground:
Ring around the Rosies,
Pocket Full of Posies,
Ashes, Ashes,
We all Fall Down!
Ironic. On today of all days. But they know not what they sing of. The origin of the song has been long forgotten. A tale of a terrible plague that killed almost half of Europe's population, and now it's a child's song. It's fitting that I should hear this song today. The children don't know what's coming. They don't know...
I stare at the beautiful sky and pray for a miracle. There is none forthcoming. I didn't really expect one anyway. Almost mockingly, the object of so much talk and speculation, fear and hatred comes into view. It too is beautiful. It is bright, reflecting the rays of sunlight, sparkling magnificently. I stare up at that which will kill me, that which will kill us all. I stare up at that which will consume the Earth completely. Ironic that the harbinger of death is so beautiful.
The meteor hurtles towards the Earth at 159,947 miles per hour. At least that's what the scientists said. But they're long gone, gone on one of the first ships to leave the planet. Bound for New Earth. Apparently it's the journey of a lifetime. I'm sure it is. But I'll never find out.
One hundred years ago, scientists discovered this meteor. After much study, they determined that it would collide with the Earth on November 5, 11239 C.E. It turns out they were right. Today is November 5. Any guesses on what year it is?
One would think that one hundred years would be sufficient time to evacuate every person on Earth. There was enough time. Someone actually calculated it. It would take approximately 52.53 years to evacuate Earth completely. There was more than enough time. Science had saved the day, and no one would die when the meteor finally crashed in a century's time.
But science is logical. Science is rational. People aren't. The need for worldwide evacuation created a new demand for spaceships and shuttles. Everything seemed to be doing well. The economy was booming. People were getting rich. But with the realization that everyone, every single person on the planet needed to leave, corporations realized that they could raise their prices indefinitely. There were no regulations on this new interplanetary transportation. If everyone needed to leave, then everyone would have to pay for a ticket to New Earth if they were to survive. Genius, really. A new marketing technique was devised. I call it the "Pay or Die" advertising.
"Buy your ticket now if you want to live! We're running out of seats on the U.S.S. Zephyr and you don't want to be left behind!" The message was always the same. Pay now for your right to live. Naturally, ticket sales went through the roof. Ticket booths were swarmed by the rich and the famous, the politicians and the businessmen. They were afraid, and rightfully so. After about twenty years of this, the Astronauts of Earth Supercorporation was running better business on New Earth than on Old Earth. The profits were even higher there, and the interplanetary travel was barely in the black anymore. The Board voted to minimize shuttles to and from Old Earth in order to free up shuttles for use on New Earth. This tripled their profits, and the CEO and shareholders sat fat and happy in their majestic mansions on the marvelously modern New Earth.
There were still eighty years left, and everyone believed that there was still ample time to evacuate the remaining population. But eighty years became seventy, and seventy became sixty, and still only three billion people had colonized New Earth. The stream of settlers had slowed to a mere trickle. By the time the New U.S. Congress decided to draft a bill to lower the prices for evacuation and force the A of E (Astronauts of Earth) to run more transports to and from Earth, there were only thirty-one years left before the End of the World. The New public applauded the bill for its humanitarian stance and hoped fervently for it to succeed. However, it was bogged down in the New Senate for two years, pending review by seven members who were rumored to be in the A of E's pocket. By this point, there were only twenty-nine years left. Time was running out.
The bill passed on July 4, 11210. Three days later, on July 7, Harold Don Lankard, a representative of the A of E, challenged the New Earth Relations Act. The lawsuit went all the way to the New Supreme Court. On the fateful day of November 5, 11210, the New Supreme Court ruled the New Earth Relations Act unconstitutional on the grounds that although New Congress could regulate interstate commerce, it could not regulate interplanetary commerce.
Years passed, and soon there was only one year left. The people of New Earth clamored for the evacuation of the rest of humanity still on Old Earth. By this time, five billion people were settled on New Earth. But there was nothing they could do. The uproar here on Old Earth was much greater. But there were no authorities left to hear us. We had no way to leave Old Earth. We had been abandoned to our fates. We have been abandoned to our deaths. I didn't have enough money to pay for passage to New Earth. None of us did.
Today is November 5, 11239 C.E. Today is the day I die. Today is the day we all die. Today, the Earth dies. I wonder how we'll be remembered on New Earth. Perhaps we'll be martyrs. Perhaps our deaths can help reform the governments of New Earth, weed out the corruption. Martyrs. All fifty-three billion of us. Martyrs.
I look up at the sky. My death is fast approaching. I am afraid. I don't want to die. But it's not my choice. It's never been my choice. I feel a tear drip off my cheek. I am powerless. Powerless to save myself. Powerless to save anyone. We cannot run and hide. The Earth dies today.
Amazingly, two children are still dancing around each other, oblivious to their fate. Though I have shut my eyes I can see their innocent faces laughing and smiling. Their voices echo chillingly in the silence before we die.
Ring around the Rosies,
Pocket Full of Posies,
Ashes, Ashes,
We all Fall...

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