Friday, 8 November 2024

Short Weird Tales: Extinction


Cosmic radiation. Laughable. It was the stuff of comic books. Of course by the time the phrase started being used seriously, everyone knew ‘something’ strange was going on. And yes, like an old b-movie it all began with a meteor shower. No one was really sure how long higher authorities had known it was coming, but TV news reports began around two weeks beforehand. Small ones at first. That final ‘human interest’ piece to pep viewers up a little.

After a week, amateur groups (hell, anyone with a decent telescope) could see the shower’s approach and started raising concerns about its size. And just like an old b-movie, they were shouted down. Condemned as crackpots and conspiracy theorists. And of course, the actual conspiracy theorists loved this. Because ultimately, why worry? Our planet takes small meteor strikes all the time and the last one to have had any significant impact occurred millions of years ago. There were always larger problems closer to home.

It began in the middle of the August night, around 3am UK time. We slept as usual. Most of the asteroids passed the earth uneventfully, avoiding its atmosphere completely. The outliers however, were caught in our gravity well and made their presence known. The bombardment - there is really no other term for it - lasted for just over 60 hours. The first strikes occurred out in the Pacific, causing relatively minimal damage. They seemed to be small or deteriorated enough that the much-mooted tidal disruptions didn’t occur. This changed as the planet turned of course. Come the morning, the rest of the world was starting to wake up. Or to be woken up. All in all, there were 36 confirmed impacts.

We didn’t know it at the time but the first casualties had been the twenty crew members on board the space station, as it was clipped by a meteor and ended up re-entering the atmosphere. People were on the lookout for falling objects, but they weren’t stopping to examine each one. By the time that was reported, it was fighting for column inches with the half of Ghent which had been destroyed in the first land-strike.

We’re not programmed to deal with an accidental catastrophe of that magnitude, especially when everyone on the planet thinks they might be next. And for the people in Belgrade, Osaka and Calgary, they were. Hundreds of thousands dead. The world stopped breathing. Eventually the danger passed. And our very best started planning to help, to counsel, to rebuild.

Then after two weeks or so, it was noticed that the plants were dying. 'Cosmic radiation'. Actually no, plants continued to exist, they just no longer flowered, pollinated or propagated. No new plants were growing. At all. Anything taking hold before the meteor strikes continued to thrive, but any other seeds lay dormant, inert. And no new plants then meant no new crops to eat. Which also meant nothing to feed the livestock.

But by the time this chain of events was forging its panic-stricken links around the globe, we suddenly had another problem. There was to be no new livestock, either. Whatever force that had instantly snuffed out the world’s arable farming cycle had seemingly done the same to the lifeforms which were dependent on it. Namely, all of them. Animals continued to be born/hatched if they were in utero before the meteors came. But no new ones were being conceived - anywhere - despite the best efforts of farmers and the enthusiasm of their herds.

So it came as no real surprise when the authorities reluctantly, if belatedly, admitted to the world’s population what they suspected already: that humans were part of this sudden mass sterilisation, too.

Infants in the womb continued to grow and develop, but this 'would be it'. Nine months after the meteor strikes that shook the world, no more children would be born. Naturally, pharmaceutical companies raced to find a solution, a fix, a shortcut. But all to no avail. Even the bacteria in their laboratories had stopped reproducing; what hope for jumpstarting a planet?

Absolute panic fought with total despondency for domination of the global mood. There was no clear winner. Within a week rioting became the norm as authority either dissipated completely or just joined-in. Existential shell-shock and impending starvation caused society to disintegrate almost immediately. The wealthy holed themselves away, rumour had it that a handful even made it off-world. Everyone else hardly cared as they knew it would make no difference. We are all just waiting to die.

In theory, the earth has until the last children that were born, either die of old age or find a solution. In practice it will be far less than that, since there is nothing for them to grow and eat. It’s now been a year since The Strikes, and current thinking predicts our planet will be lifeless within ten. Although this is near instantaneous in terms of cosmological time, it feels longer when one’s own end is sealed but not yet delivered.

I’m not sure why I’m documenting all this. I’m almost certain that it’s been done elsewhere and far more thoroughly. I’m also aware that none of it really matters. The light will be out soon enough and there will be no one to read these words, much less care. Future extra-terrestrial archaeologists are unlikely to be sifting through my pages above any others. Other than the curious hives humanity has terraformed for itself while slowly destroying the world which houses them, there will be little here of any interest. Because ultimately, we achieved little. After the decades of warnings, we didn’t kill ourselves after all. It was just bad luck.

Why do we persist? Instinct, I imagine. This species’ hardwired urge to leave something behind. Some trace of our individual existence. Anything to prove that we were here once. That we were more than animals. We weren’t - aren’t - of course. But still the need remains.

For this short while, at any rate.




DISCLAIMERS:
• ^^^ That's dry, British humour, and most likely sarcasm or facetiousness.
• Yen's blog contains harsh language and even harsher notions of propriety. Reader discretion is advised.
• Short stories © WorldOfBlackout.co.uk, all entries are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Y'know, mostly.
• This is a personal blog. The views and opinions expressed here represent my own thoughts (at the time of writing) and not those of the people, institutions or organisations that I may or may not be related with unless stated explicitly.

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