by J. Amarylis

The Last Light  

Earth Date: 2029.05.22 

Galactic Council Stardate (GCS): 33476.18.28 

Kai’k’leet: Point-of-view Character 

My bondmates and I arrived at Earth on the 28th day of Horizon, year three-three-four-seven-six. I am First, and they are Second and Third; Kai’k’leet is my name, Ar’d’keen is my Second and Kal’a’zeed is my Third. 

We, meaning the Za’ee people, had watched Humanity’s world orbit the sun over two thousand times. But without perceivable cause or explanation, all our data stopped, as if all our carefully hidden observation machines had stopped functioning at once. My bondmates and I were sent to investigate, being warned that to reveal ourselves would be ill advised. Humanity just was not ready.  

We arrived three-point-seven-two revolutions after our machines stopped sending.  

Looking down at the planet, we noticed something striking immediately. We knew that Earth had massive conglomerations of buildings and roads they called cities. Full of lights. But they had gone dark. The world was dark where it was out of its sun’s reach.  

Puzzled, my bondmates and I began a careful assessment of our equipment, which was still orbiting the planet. 

“Kai’k’leet, our orbital scanners are functioning perfectly,” my Second, Ar’d’keen, reported back within a few seconds. 

 “You are sure?” I asked, more puzzled than ever. 

“Certain, First.”  

“I concur, the Second is correct, First,” said our Third, Kal’a’zeed. 

I looked at my two underlings and nodded. “Excellent work, but–the findings defy sense. They have sent back only…” I trailed off, looking down at the world below. There was only darkness. “We must investigate more closely. Why would Humanity disable their technology?”  

The Second and Third exchanged glances and each gestured their inability to understand. They were just as perplexed as I. I looked over my bondmates for a long moment. Our bonding was fairly fresh. Ar’d’keen and Kal’a’zeed were my best friends, lovers, partners in every sense. We hoped soon to have younglings of our own, Ar’d’keen and I bearing the ones that Kal’a’zeed sired. Usually the Council would not have sent us on the away mission, but it was urgent, and we were the best technicians nearest to this distant world.    

I thought about the Humans, reviewing all that I knew of them as I looked at my bondmates. We were quite different in appearance; our skin came in vibrant colors, with black stripes comparable in pattern to the zebras of Earth.  We each have two flexible antennas, black, spherical sensory organs on the ends we call za-rix that help us analyze what we see and smell and hear.   

I, the First, have blue skin, while my Second has dark pink, and my Third is green. We have the slender but strong, prehensile tails of our people, tufts of hair on the end that match the stuff on our heads, which is black. We have wide, pointed ears that typically do not get very long, black, sturdy, short claws on our digits; which are fewer than Humans possess. 

I frowned as we approached. I had been warned repeatedly about going near the planet in a ship. In fact, I was under orders to hide my vessel on the dark side of Earth’s moon and take our space-flights to the world’s orbits to check our monitoring devices. 

But this was unsatisfactory. My main orders, my higher orders, were to uncover the reason, repair any malfunctions, and report back on Humanity.  

There were no malfunctions to repair. “Second, Third, this is a dire mission. If we are captured, we are to vaporize immediately. Do you understand? There is no escape, only death, if Humans spot us. That is the Command.”  

They bowed. “We hear and obey, First, we will follow the Council’s orders.” 

I nodded, worriedly tugging at one of my antennae as I considered our options.  

“Let us check their satellite systems. It is strange technology, I know, but it may allow them to monitor us.” My underlings nodded, and we set to work. But it was the strangest thing. Their technology gave no readings, no energy signals… as if they too had all been put out or disabled.  

Nothing but darkness. 

My antennae twitched and my tail cramped in a sudden chill of discomfort. Something was seriously wrong here.  

—

We landed unmarked in a great barren region of the world, carefully cloaking and hiding our vessel. As we followed uncertain maps towards what should be one of Earth’s strange “cities” we saw … no one at all.  

Not a single light.  

Nothing but darkness.  

There was wildlife in plenty, roaming fearless and free. We found structures, Humans called them “houses”.  We found odd land vessels I could not remember the name of. We found crashed air vessels.  

But there was no sign of Humans at all.  

“What happened to them all?” I wondered aloud. At last count there had been well over eight billion of those odd creatures living on this world. But my Second and my Third had no answers for me.  

—

As we neared the “City of the Angels” as the local people declared, but there were no lights on the horizon. No light save the sun setting before us. Certainly no evidence of angels, despite the prevalence of them in Human mythos and religions.   

Nothing but darkness.  

The streets, the land vessels, the houses, the shops, the buildings. 

Empty. 

Abandoned. 

Lost.  

Flora and fauna of all kinds had taken over, reminding me this must have happened when we first got nothing but darkness from our observation machines.  

Three-point-seven-two revolutions ago.  

Second and Third exchanged uneasy glances but stayed as silent as the missing Humans. 

I had never felt so alone. 

—

We exited the city southwards, out to dry, empty lands.  

All three of us cried out as, in the distance, a sight we thought we would never again find on this world shone in our sensitive eyes.  

A light. 

There was a light! Powered by an unblemished solar panel, some of the most impressive technology these strange Earthlings possessed for energy.  

As we drew closer to the singular light, shining brighter and brighter in the growing darkness, we heard a strange sound. 

Second and Third froze as though terrified of the shadows.  

I went to them, I kissed their heads, a fond farewell amongst our people. “Return to the vessel. Wait for me for seven Earth days. If I have not returned—go home. That is an order, understand?” 

They took a moment to speak, and I could practically see the arguments they were weighing in their minds. Defeated, their antennae wilted and their tails slumped. “We hear and obey, First.”  

“Excellent. You have my love, my pride, my blessing. Be well. I will return soon.” 

With that we parted. 

I walked on, toward the light. 

Toward the sound of a Human weeping.  

~~~  

I found them in a shack, thin, malnourished, ill-kept. They stayed by the light, crying their sad whimpers.  

They stopped when they saw me, they gasped, they put both hands up pressed together as they began to beg, “Please, please, please, I didn’t mean, I didn’t mean to.” 

I could hear from the wheeze in their breath that their end was near. The light flickered. 

I knelt. “What happened? Where has all your kind gone?” 

“It was a wish, just a stupid wish, I didn’t mean it.”  

I crossed my antennae, feeling very confused.  

“What wish?” 

“I wished for them to go away, for them all to leave me alone. This is my fault! I wished them away. I have been wishing them back every day, every day, every day. But—” The Human trailed off into a horrible hacking cough, their strange red blood splattering all over the ground.  

They collapsed, breath shallow and so very fast.  

“I am sorry,” they whispered.  

The light went out. 

I blinked, but there was no more sound, no more light.  

A wish. 

One wish. 

Nothing but darkness. 

—

I am not sure how long I lingered there in shocked disbelief. Had Humanity been snuffed out by a wish? How? Deeply bewildered and getting an antennae-ache on both sides, I returned to my ship, to my bondmates. My beloved  Ar’d’keen and Kal’a’zeed were huddled together, frightened and weeping, making my soul-heart break.  

I gathered them in my arms. “I am here, I am well, but–the light is out. Humanity is gone.”  

The three of us wept together for a little while, for joy of our reunion, for sorrow of a people long studied and held dear in the soul-hearts of our people.  

My Second and Third looked at me with expectant eyes, antennae and tails twitching with curiosity. I smiled at them fondly, and took a deep breath, kissing each on the head. “The Human spoke to me.” 

They nodded in sync, as was common when our soul-hearts were aligned, the unspoken question lingering in the air. 

“They claimed they made a wish, and Humanity vanished, everyone but them, and now they are gone as well. They were weak and frail from exposure, malnourished, and ill.” 

Ar’d’keen’s and Kal’a’zeed’s large eyes widened, their brows furrowing as they frowned, both glancing at the viewing screen.  

I sighed. “It sounds like a fairytale. But—there is no other explanation. We must scour the continents, see if anything remains of them, gather evidence of their last days to study and preserve. We do not want them to be forgotten.”  

I shook my head, crossing my arms. I suddenly felt inexplicably weary. 

For a long while we stood there silently, looking down on the planet far below. There wasn’t the slightest glimmer of light that we could catch from this distance. 

Nothing but darkness.  

It had a dreadful weight, a dreadful emptiness. But not all was lost, at least, in that–the animals, the plants, Earth herself was flourishing. Without Humanity, the time since they vanished, short as it was, had been enough time to greatly reduce pollution in the atmosphere and the excess carbon dioxide that had been building over dozens upon dozens of orbital rotations.  

I wondered vaguely if the Race could be revived somehow, but the only body that I knew remained … we would rest then collect the necessary samples.  

I disabled the view screen and set the lighting to a pleasing shade of purple, taking each bondmate by a hand and leading them to bed.