The Lunar Landings—a lofty achievement for mankind. Today, 3 billion miles from Earth, two hundred years later, I’m passing Pluto. But only in the company of a doomed ghost ship named the Achilles. All fuel reserves and chances of returning home vanished with my crew.
Clusters of stars crowd the bleak darkness like Christmas lights. The sun shines as nothing more than a pin-sized memory of home. This cold world swallows all the space and all the matter in between like water. It’s here I drift—a faded memory confined to the brutal environment I once looked upon with infinite wonder. I sit in the observatory module in the morning to marvel at this universe of incredible beauty and to be disarmed by its monstrous terror. And here in this parallel of majesty and horror, my end is assured… but not without reason.
I take a seat in front of my transmitter, wrapped in a blanket with a cup of coffee. I turn it on to meet my grizzled face on the monitor. My finger hovers by the record switch.
One last time, the thought hits me with heavy reluctance. Come on, hit the damn switch.
I flip it on, slumping in defeat. My jaw tightens. I strain to look at the screen.
Once you press ‘done’ it’s going to NASA anyway.
I sigh and meet the camera with a smile. “Hello, mission control. Hello to my wife, Emily, the kids, and to anyone else watching. For those who don’t know, my name is Lance Baxter. I am the flight engineer, commander, and the last member of the crew left on the Achilles. This is my final transmission.
“Roughly eight years ago, according to my catalog—it’s kind of hard to tell up here—we conducted a scientific expedition to the surface of Pluto. I won’t bore you with the details, but around a month into our mission, I had the responsibility to make a decision no one should ever have to.
“Substantial debris struck the Achilles. It shredded both fuel tanks, tore crucial sections of the ship apart, and destroyed the navigation hub. We were swiftly pushed off course, drifting at rapid speeds into deep space. We had no way of bringing the Achilles back to reference trajectory. Just imagine the worst-case scenario.
“We had minutes to react. Mission control instructed us to evacuate the Achilles using the command module. They told us to abort and return home. But the debris damaged more than we thought possible. The command module’s docking and undocking systems are designed to be fully autonomous, but they were also destroyed when we collided with the debris.
“The only way we could undock was to manually override the system in the Achilles’ navigation hub. But to do that, one of us had to stay behind to perform the task. Members of my crew volunteered, but as commander, it was my duty to ensure their safety above my own. But if I stayed, I would be disregarding my commitment to my family. I had to choose between sacrificing a crew member or deserting the people I love most who count on me in every aspect of life. I couldn’t be more glad that my crew made it home safe but… is it moral choosing to save one person over another? God, I don’t know. Emily, I don’t know if what I did was right.” I swallow the lump in my throat, swiping another tear from my eye.
“I overrode the system and undocked the command module before debris ravaged the Achilles’ navigation hub completely. Afterward, I managed to seal off the destroyed modules and salvage whatever remained. NASA tried, but there was nothing they could do for me. Anything they could’ve done would’ve been too late. I would’ve been out of their reach by the time they were ready to do something. So you know, Emily, I wasn’t counting on that when I chose to stay, no matter how much I wanted to. I know that’s not what you want to hear… Or the kids. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” My voice trails off in a brittle whisper. “Um… well, either way, it’s done now, so I just wanted to tell you guys goodbye and that I love you so much. I’ve had to deal with a lot of crap in my life, but you guys made up for all of it. You made it one hell of a ride, and words can’t say how grateful I am for that.” I smile at the camera for the last time. “Alright, goodbye, guys. I love you, and I’m sorry. And goodbye, mission control. Thanks for trying.”
My hand shakes as I press ‘done’.
“Up and away,” I say.
I grab a fresh cup of coffee and head to the observatory module. Its walls clad in computer screens, keyboards, and cords close in around me like the idle and empty darkness. The rich, earthy aroma of coffee saturates the silent air, calling back the remote memories of home. A small light comes on. I take a seat, studying the photo taped to one of the windows. Age has tattered the edges and its once vital colors have faded to gray. Emily and our four small children stare back at me from that irretrievable moment in time. And as the reassuring hand of the known universe slips from my grasp forever, I wonder: Can you drive responsibility to such an extreme that all its morality crumbles?
I hear them call every day, wondering when we’ll find ourselves together again. But I won’t hear them anymore. The space between us has severed the connection and with it, my indecision.
“I hope we meet in another life,” I whisper as the last hour of oxygen ticks away.
Image – The void with stars from Pixabay.com – blue emptiness with tiny pinpricks of stars.
literally stories 
Savannah
A moving yet not sentimental tale, likely foretelling a similar future event, if human space travel beyond earth happens again. The universe seems bent on being as difficult as possible to protect its secrets. But one thing is known: True heroism dies alone.
Fine work today!
Leila
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Extraordinarily well written, especially the line that begins ‘can you drive responsibility…’
Moving without being maudlin, haunting but without hint of cliche…
Michael Tyler
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Hey Michael,
Thanks so much for leaving your thoughts on the story. I truly appreciate your support!
Savannah
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This lonely, emotional, heroic story is haunting because while we still keep on trying to explore the heavens this scenario is always a possibility and I wonder how will we react – chilling. The tone of this was perfect. Thank you – dd
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Hi Diane!
Thank you so much for publishing ‘Final Transmission’ and for giving your thoughts on it! I truly appreciate your support and for helping writers have their voices heard.
Savannah
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A marvel of understatement, and all the more affecting for it.
“The sun shines as nothing more than a pin-sized memory of home.” Wow.
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Understated but quite powerful – a poignant piece for mid-week reading.
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Savannah
Your story stuck me as an allegory of abject loss and the loneliness we all can experience anywhere, whether in space like Lance Baxter, alone in front of our computers, or imprisoned somewhere on earth — abandoned by circumstance or design. The madness of isolation.
Or talking to Siri on an iPhone.
Gerry
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Savannah
This story seemed like the fiction version of David Bowie’s song “Space Oddity,” in a good way. Your story is really well-written. The prose style is clear, focused, and vivid. This tale packs a lot into a small space and asks a lot of profound questions about life and death, science and spirituality. As with a few other commenters, it made me think about life on earth as much as potential life/death in space, and that was a really good thing. Regarding the hope of the main character at the end. I believe two things are likely. Either he will get his wish; or he won’t know about it (or care) if his dream doesn’t come true. It reminded me of the millions of people who have described what are scientifically known as Near Death Experiences.
Science itself has finally thrown up its hands and admitted there are things in this world it can’t fully explain. Because there are actually many millions of people on this planet from all continents who have literally, technically died for a few minutes, and claimed to have met God, or their spirit guide, and their relatives, in the afterlife, while they were dead, and before being sent back.
If their experiences are only fiction, or visions, it’s truly beautiful fiction (widely available for free on “Coming Home,” You Tube, where there are films of these people telling their stories, including detailed explanations of how they died and how long they were officially dead, that is, pronounced dead by medical authorities before being resuscitated). All people who have had NDEs claim that they were profoundly changed for the better afterward. All of them also claim to have completely lost their fear of death (because they no longer believe in it). It can all be easily researched via the internet. And in one sense it can all be backed up by science, because we now know that energy never disappears; it only changes form.
The bizarre situation of your fictional character alone out in this universe reminded me very much of the descriptions of Near Death Experiences by the people who have experienced them, since there is always a light and a feeling of unconditional love far, far stronger and more powerful than anything ever felt before here on earth, but also sometimes sadness, confusion, and a reckoning.
“Final Transmission” is an excellent, thought-provoking story, including the title! Science fiction was originally designed to ask great questions, and yours does. Looking forward to reading more of your work in the future.
Dale
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Dale – By the first paragraph I was thinking “Ground Control to Major Tom”. Despite science fiction, I doubt that space travel will ever be safe or common.
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I’m a sucker for sci-fi with heart like this story. It has just right amount of world-building and poignancy. Hail and farewell whoever you are!
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A lot going on here and in a good way. This story brought to mind two things. The first being the philosophical conundrum of the Trolley Problem. It also reminded me a little of one of my all-time favourite films, Silent Running, with Bruce Dern. What impressed me most about this story is that it handled something deep without pretension and at a good pace.
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Hi Savannah,
I really enjoyed this superb story.
As others have said it is poignant, thought-provoking and the tone and pace are perfect.
This is an excellent piece of story-telling.
On a lighter but related note, Billy Connolly once stated that we should never go swimming in the sea as we have no business being there – Maybe the same applies to space travel…If we can’t walk there or breathe then maybe we should leave well alone!!!
Hope you have more for us soon.
All the very best.
Hugh
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Hi again Savannah
i forgot to mention that this story (and Diane’s fine header) reminded me of the “Pale Blue Dot” image that Voyager took of Earth in 1990, when it was way the hell out there. The immensity of our smallness is daunting, but I give us this much, we try.
Leila
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Hi Leila!
Thanks so much again for publishing ‘Final Transmission!’ I appreciate hearing your thoughts on it, and now that you mention it, it does remind me of the ‘Pale Blue Dot’ image. I have also always found the concept of far reaching space travel to be a risk humanity is not meant to take. The universe is a brutal place that perhaps is best left alone.
I also want to say that I have been truly enjoying the Literally Stories website. It’s fun with so many great stories and great talent on it, and I’m honored to be a part of it. Thank you for helping writers have their voices heard! I very much appreciate your work!
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Thank you Savannah and I certainly look forward to seeing more of your work in the times to come!
Leila
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