Space

Earth had sent us out 13 years ago.  We were aboard the fabled Ghost.  She was a tiny cruiser, but built to last.  The hull consisted of three living areas, a kitchen, and an exercise area.  The captains cabin was on a second level, along with maintenance.  We had been drifting for a little longer than we needed to, on a course to nowhere really.  We were supposed to land on Mars, to be the first human crew to set foot there.  But, our pilot had screwed up and we were being tossed into the silent depth of space.  The food hadnt run out, happily enough.  They had sent us enough food and supplies to last World War 2 all over again. 
My crew consisted of Shell, a Norwegian pilot from the elite secret college they had there, set up for astronauts when NASA went to hell.  America had fallen after years of war with Britain.  Ironic but sad.  In 2031 all Americans were exterminated.  Britain had become a powerhouse, and no other country on the Earth wanted to deal with it, not after World War 2.  Some sadly fell in America's foosteps.  I remember when China fell.  The population fell by a few billion that day,  I can remember the fires on our Holoscreen. 
I grew up in Norway as well, but our saving grace John was from Britain, but had left after the Assault of America in 2019.  He had been a former cafeteria server, and had somehow found himself in Norway looking for a job.  The surface of the Earth looked pitiful, most lived underground.  A few were brave enough to stay topside, but everything the College had was underground, even the launching pad.
When we had first glimpsed Mars John had made us a special dinner, Roast and potatoes, with some dessert even. 
But Shell and John had other celebrations, and the crucial moment we needed to align the thrusters and power the engines towards Mars' atmosphere, well, we didn't make it.  The College completely cut us off from transmissions.  We were alone, and I refused to talk to either of them for months.
But in that tiny cabin you couldn't bear any grudges for long, and we learned to live with each other.
The seconds lasted for hours, the hours for days, the days for months, the months for years.  We had no idea if Earth had blasted itself into oblivion or had sent out a rescue.  We just didnt know.
Today, or whatever you called being awake and sensing the environment.
We were somewhere out, our navigations system had blown out years ago, and me being the only maintenance member had given up long before today.  We sat around talking about childhood stories, trying to remember what it was like to live.  Were we dead?  Had we just crashed into Earth and died years ago?  Was this Hell? Was there hell? I asked myself this everyday but never got answers.
I spent most of my time gazing outside, or going for a spacewalk topside.  Our oxygen was precious but we had stoppped caring.  To float outside was something incapable of describing.  A human has absolutely zero control in space.  Nothing you can do helps.  You must rely on math.  Will the ropes hold?  Will your oxygen last?  It is a binary system.  Live or die.  It was binary.  Just calculations.  No overseer.  If there was one, it was a cruel and unusual bastard.
Sitting in the cabin was a dreary place.  I spent time reading Macbeth or Gulliver's travels, whatever else books were left inside our rooms.  Our clothes were dreary rags, we gave up cleaning ourselves except once every few weeks, to conserve our water.  We had enough for years, but we never knew.  Hopefully someone would save us, right?
I had never believed in aliens.  I think humans were mathematically a mistake.  The right place, the right time, the right everything.  Evolution had led us to great accomplishments, and great failures.  If anything else had been different with Earth, we would have never existed.  Binary. Live or die.
The food was the fun part of our day.  Whatever John managed to cook up was a miracle.  We had lost any excess weight years ago, and were shells of humans.  Shell looked especially bad.  A truly beautiful woman, with the brightest emerald eyes and the figure of a goddess, it was no wonder John had jeapordized everything just for her.  


13 years later
My logs have become extinct now.  I havent recorded anymore because there is no point.  No one will read this.  There is no meaning to our mission now.  I have thought about it enough.  We passed the hellish ice ball a few months ago.  We took a vote to just land there and open the door, know what it was like somewhere other than Earth.  I lost.
We had kept going into nothing.  The sun was a pale white dot against the back observation deck.  To remember how big it had seemed when I was a child was a false hope.  I can barely remember anything of my past life except for this pitiful shell.  Every night I debate whether to just open the air lock and take us all.  I tried once, but Shell caught me and they had locked me up for a few weeks.  I havent tried since then.
I still read Macbeth.  I think I might be ripped from my mothers womb.  The earth is the mother of all humans.  Maybe I am Macduff?  Who am I?  What point do I have on this universe?  I stare and think and stare and sleep and eat and think all the time.  Shell and John had a child, somehow.  I hated to listen to it cry.  To be born in this terrible shell of a world?  I cannot go on spacewalks anymore.  We are down to our reserve canisters of oxygen now. 
I have done the calculations.  We will last no longer than 2 weeks.  We will suffer a slow and painful death, slowly being asphyxiated until our brains freeze.  Maybe they will let me open the door.  I like the door.  It talks to me when I am sitting in the Captains cabin. 
We dont wear clothes anymore.  The rags they had been long ago were torn and used for more important things.  Being in the nude was almost natural at this point.  I remembered somewhere learning about ancient humans learning to use furs for warmth.  I liked cold.


1 week later
We think its best to try and let the comms stay open.  It was a joke, for the first hour or so.  John and Shell went to the other room, and I stayed with the baby.  I looked at its small face.  Uncapable of thinking or remorse, uncapable of bullying or hating.  It would never know what it was like to grow up with any of its kind, or know love or any feeling.  It was a mere piece of clay to be fed and talked to.  The baby will never be anything.  It will never have a job or know what money is, or the things it could make people do.  It will never know reproduction or love.  It will not know anything! What is the point! Why am I writing in this? 

4 days later
John and Shell have left me.  I have always had a loaded 9mm in my room.  John choked his son and Shell, and I was forced to take care of him.  I now just sit and gaze at the rear window, watching the sun slowly grow darker and darker.  I pace and pace and pace down the main hall.  The food ran out.  The oxygen will run out in three days.
I tell you, it is all math.  I have done calculations and have figured out that they have not sent help.  They have not sent anything.  They most likely had all died from nuclear or toxic warfare.  Humanity was dated, like any other form of life.  It is binary.  Without math there is nothing. Math controls everything. 
I just slid their bodies in their bed, and left the door closed.  Is that the proper thing to do?  I would have dumped them out of the ship, but that would waste all the oxygen left.  No.   I must go until the final minute, the final second when I cannot stand it any longer.
I am glad I got to see Pluto.  It was even less than I had expected.  It was a mere dirty ball of ice.  That is all.  If Pluto did not exist, then nothing in this Universe would have changed.



3 days later
It is sometime in the day.  Wait, I forget, there are no only days.  I still stare out the Captains cabin with what is left of what you would call eyes.  Math is everything.  Without my mind to calculate what I am seeing, it is nothing.  I am only perceiving what my mind, what numbers want me to see. 

12 hours later
Well, today is the day.  I looked at John and Shell and their son and said a few words.  They were numbers. I am numbers. I am the omega.  I am the alpha.  I am nothing.
I covered them up.  I got the last flight suit, and took the reserve tank of oxygen.  I hooked it up to my suit and prepared.

5 hours later
Because of my suit taking in all the oxygen it is being reserved tenfold what it would have lasted in the entire ship.  I grabbed what supplies were left, my handgun, useless with no oxygen, but still a memento.  I grabbed the picture of my fallen wife and slid it into one of my pockets.
I did some last pre repping and walked over to the door.  I let out the air and opened the door.  The stars shined upon my eyes...My eyes...Me....one............