Games Aren't Numbers

It is May 2011 and no one goes to the Moon anymore. As I floated towards one of the asteroid-based stations a moment of Newtonian insight came over me. The theory of relativity was no longer just an idea and suddenly a reality, as apparent as an apple falling from a tree. I didn’t feel at all like I was approaching this asteroid, but rather that it was approaching me, or maybe we were approaching each other. After all, I was just standing here. I could close my eyes and imagine there was nothing in front of me at all, and there would be no way I could prove that there was, until I opened them and saw that my destination had grown several times in size.

Now I did feel like I was moving though, because my suit was automatically slowing me to a more pedestrian pace just in time to prevent collision. The Moon-rocks glowed blue, but that was just the reflection of my own suit’s lights. It caught me by surprise though because I didn’t expect the blue to be so bright. No wonder a full moon can so vividly illuminate an otherwise pitch black night.

Ironically, the Moon now lights even of the Earth at night. What’s left of its body still has the same diameter, and the rest is spread across the sky. Overall there’s even more surface area and more reflected sunlight.

I’m the only person on this asteroid. I don’t know why I’m carrying a rail-gun but I figure it can’t hurt, especially with no one to shoot. Might be useful to break into an airlock or something. Plus you never know what kind of lunatics may still be out here, left over from the skirmishes earlier. Lunatics, I didn’t even do that intentionally. There’s no one here though.

I thought I saw someone but it was just my shadow. I can’t believe how fat I look. Not that I have any insecurities regarding my weight, but I look like a cartoon in this suit. If an alien landed and saw me he would think humans are the goofiest looking species. He would probably be wearing a suit too, so I’d think the same of him.

I chase my shadow for a bit but he cheats. I follow him to the top of a hill and when I reach the stop he appears on the side of the next hill over. I get tired of playing with him so I just push off into space. He disappears.

Most of the Moon still seems to be together, there’s just a giant crater where a half of it got blown off. The Moon doesn’t have a face which bothers me. I mean, did the Moon ever have a face? I’m not sure but I feel like it should have one. Looking at that gruesome hole is unsettling, like it should have a face but doesn’t. It’s like looking a person’s head but with the face missing. Shards of Moon-rock float downward, and it makes me think the Moon is crying. I turn around and it looks like the rocks are going upward now. I wonder: do tears in zero gravity just bubble up around your eyes?

I notice that I’m floating along with the meteors, like we’re all going downstream in a space-river. I imagine currents of rocks in an ocean of meteors, which is almost what this place is like.

Above me the shiny white asteroid station is smaller. It looks like it was always far away now, always part of the background. It feels strange knowing that I was just walking on in a few minutes ago. This must be what it feels like for a mountain climber to look back at the peak he just descended. I guess in space there really is no up or down, no here nor there, no foreground and no background.

My suit warns me of micrometeoroids approaching. Nasty little rocks that can tear through you like a shard of glass going a hundred miles an hour. Not a lot are near the larger asteroids because they get swept out of the path. If you wander too far away though it’s like entering a live firing range, like what I’m doing right now.

The warning appears again. I think I just felt something hit my leg.

Like a dream though, I don’t get to see my own inevitable death.