A short story by T. S. Dickson
The sergeant says we have until the second bell to prepare, so I am finally writing the letter I promised you. They have not touched the tight beam transmission so it will get out okay. I hope you and dad are okay. How is Dad? How is Arthur and Sparkie?
Look, I know it was hard for the two of you when I decided to enlist. “What has the Earth ever done for us.” Dad said. Mom, I know how you grew up with Grammy and Gramps’ hatred of old Earth. I remember their stories about the pollution and the political problems and how bad it was in the cargo hold on the long trip. It must be hard for you to understand why I am here Mom, but I never learned to hate the Earth. The government that sent them away is long gone as well. Dad was too young to remember anything, and you were not even born yet when the ships left for Rome.
I don’t think I can describe it, Mom. The feelings I had when I stepped off the transport. The sky is blue here, not like inside the domes, but a deep blue that goes on forever, and it smells so different. And the Sun. How do I describe it? It is big and golden and warm. There is something, maybe it is ancestral memories, maybe it is just in the DNA, but every cell in my body screams “This Is Home.” We all felt it as we stumbled out onto the landing pad. It is why we all joined up. We just couldn’t bear to have the home we had never seen disappear without a fight. Did you know the weeks are seven days here just like on Rome? I guess the things that surprise me the most are the things that are the same. I still have trouble getting used to the big moon up in the sky at night. I keep thinking Romulus has spun out of orbit and is crashing!
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to The E-JSD to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.