I stood outside our home virtual experience slash living room, trying to summon the courage to enter, but my stomach was clenching so hard that it threatened to double me over. I hugged myself, rocking back and forth, and a soft moan seeped through my lips. When footsteps approached, I looked up. My eighteen-year-old brother strode across the dark wood flooring of our hallway toward me then leaned against the door frame and crossed his feet.
Although his stance was relaxed, he was not. His dense blond brows were as knotted as his fists, and his knuckles were turning white. His speech betrayed nothing when he spoke in his usual rapid-fire way. “Don’t you want to wait until Mom and Dad get home from work before you go in, Cassidy? You might need them when you come out of the VE.” Then he wrapped his arms around my head and shoulders. “Damn, little sister, I wish you didn’t have to do this.”
I loved how Liam cared for me, but his concern didn’t ease my tension. I bit my lip, not exactly answering his question. “Were they here when you went in, Li?”
“On my ‘Age of Understanding’ birthday? No. You were at school, if you recall, and I went in while they were at work. Call it pride or whatever, but I hardly wanted Mom and Dad to see me break.”
“And did you?” I met his bright green eyes. “Break, I mean?”
“Not to scare you, Cassidy, but everyone does.”
I fixed on my leather sandals. “I know I’m supposed to go in alone, Li, but I really wish you could go with me.”
He puffed a smile. “Honestly, Cass, I’d prefer that. Plus, I don’t really care what Gina thinks.”
Liam dropped his arms from my shoulders. He looked around as if we’d be caught and stopped or he or I would change our minds and back away. He jerked open the door to our home virtual experience room and held his hand, palm up, toward the center. I wanted to flop into the corner of the L-shaped leather couches, but I knew we weren’t using them today.
Liam took my hand as the door sealed behind us. I sucked in a sharp breath and Liam gulped. The ceiling-mounted VE cube whirred, throwing a triangular light to the floor. The light expanded, sliding over our feet, up our legs, bodies and heads. A gravitational pull sucked us to the middle of the room, and a thick mist swirled around.
A light shone from out of the eye, and I grimaced. The stumpy body of Gina Petri, Petriville’s founder, emerged through the mist. Horn-rimmed spectacles magnified her steel-gray eyes, and a toothy smile grew beneath her parrot nose.
Liam squeezed my hand as if to calm or comfort me.
Gina’s oh-too-sweet melody reminded me a little of a snake. “Miss Jones, I hope you do not take too much stock in what you observe today. You must understand that I wiped this memory from our children only to protect you when you were young. At sixteen, I believe you will comprehend the miracle of the occurrence. This incident is now, after all, mankind’s history. You may resent that I did not save your grandparents, Aunt Susan and her daughter Sarah, but only you were of the caliber I desired.” She paused, and I wondered if she gave personalized messages to every sixteen-year-old in Petriville. I was about to ask Liam when Gina held her palm out toward something just past us. “Now, bear in mind what I have said as you visit your virtual experience.”
The thick mist again swirled around and consumed Gina. Some seconds later it dispersed, leaving us in another time, just a short distance from where we now stood, right outside our front door.
I drew in the fragrance of spring flowers and freshly cut lawn. The soft early-evening breeze brushed my skin and tiny recording drones floated around spectators like silent flies, recording the events. As sunset’s orange glow deepened, a three-dimensional version of Dad exited our home, looking all of the eleven years younger than he was now. The drones took in every facet of Dad’s tall, fair, sculpted physique. The image of Mom stretched out on our front lawn. An incredulous expression lit her olive-toned face, her dark hair haloing around her head, her jeans never quite long enough to reach her ankles. My beautiful, elegant mother.
At seven and five years old, Liam and I buzzed around our parents. The breeze fluttered Liam’s soft blond curls as he clasped my tiny hand in his and pointed to the sky. I recalled none of it but noted how, even then, we were tall for our ages and my deep blue eyes contrasted with my olive skin and straight, dark hair. And the knobby knees Liam had so often teased me about protruded below the hem of a pale blue dress that I could almost remember.
The scene was so lifelike that it drew me into the moment. All the way up and down our block, neighbors stood. They lined the cobbled walkway, stood on their front lawns or in the park. No eyes left the darkening sky as the myriad of tiny recording drones floated around families, capturing what would become our history.
Petriville’s launch into space should have left me with a thousand vivid memories, but mine were like broken shards of glass—shimmering or shattered. To an onlooker, Petriville’s launch must have seemed unnatural—a town within an indestructible dome, a transparent kaleidoscope of rainbow colors. The dome had ballooned into a sphere that had grown and grown until thrusters had propelled it into Earth’s exosphere. Complete with houses, gardens, trees, conveyor streets, schools and shops, Petriville seemed to magically hover at the sphere’s center. It was pure science, of course.
My focus drifted back to the VE, my gaze drifting upward. The most magnificent scene materialized, laced in tones of the softest blues to the deepest greens. Draped over it all, clouds floated in languid majesty—crisp white to deep, dark gray. It was as though we were Earth, and Earth was our enormous moon.
I stood, a spectator in the scene, and turned to Liam. “This is not new, though, Li. Earth isn’t much different now from how it was then.”
Although he’d seen this all before, he wore an incredulous expression. “Wait, Cassidy. This is so you can see how it was back then. Plus, you know Earth wasn’t like this for most of our lives.”
Almost as soon as Liam had spoken, a swirling mist once more stole the scene. From its depths, a new visual experience emerged. Liam firmed his grip on my hand, clenching his jaw.
Again, we were outside our home, this time in the park over the curved, cobbled walkway. Everyone was outside on this dark night, ignoring the drones, which were skimming the standing crowds. All eyes were locked on the night sky. Whimpers escaped men, women and children. I followed their skyward stares, and my chest constricted.
Dad pulled Mom back against him as tears flooded her deep blue eyes and cascaded down her cheeks. All around, deathly silence fell.
The asteroid hurtled through space, its trajectory placing Earth in its direct path. It drew nearer, so much nearer.
Even though I knew the outcome, I found myself wishing things would turn out differently—that the meteorite would incinerate in Earth’s atmosphere or the asteroid would glide past and miss our home planet entirely.
As the asteroid entered Earth’s atmosphere, flame enveloped the monstrous bulk, turning it to a fiery meteor.
The fireball and tail shot across the sky, its speed impossible, incomprehensible, as it burned its way through the atmosphere toward Earth. And it barely lost any of its immense bulk as it neared. Then an ethereal brightening seared the dark sky. A shimmering mushroom of debris, light and dust shot into the air before raining back toward Earth.
Screams shattered the night, an echo in a chorus of onlookers’ grief. But all I heard was Mom as my young parents collapsed to the ground, comprehension slamming into them. They had just lost almost everyone they loved. Searing pain tore into my gut. I clenched my fists until my fingernails bit into my palms. I barely noticed that I was clinging to Liam, that he held me against him, his arms as tight as the vise gripping my heart, that I shook, sobbed and that tears slid down his cheeks too. My parents’ continued screams cut a burning, stabbing pain through my chest, constricting my throat. But I couldn’t drag my eyes from them or escape the suffocating VE. My body numbed. A weighted, nauseated, distant dream took hold. I tried to lift my hand to wipe at the tears burning my cheeks, but my hand wouldn’t move.
The VE faded into the swirling mist then slid away. We were back in the room with the familiar leather couches. After the longest time, Liam loosened his grip and I stepped away, wiping my cheeks. Liam kept his eyes on me. “Are you all right, Cass?”
A choked “Why would they make us—?” was all I managed as my tears gushed. Some fell onto my wrist, splashing Grandma’s antique, white-gold wrap-around bracelet pen and the sixteen silver sparkle bangles Mom and Dad had given me that morning. My ‘Age of Understanding’ gift. Sixteen. The old maxim really applied to me. But it felt back-to-front, like the soft sensation of a boy’s lips on mine should have preceded what I’d just witnessed.
And it wasn’t for lack of wanting. I yearned to be in the arms of a boy, tasting his sweet lips. But I hadn’t yet met the boy who had recently begun starring in my dreams—the boy with eyes the color of a tropical ocean, dimples etched into his cheeks and the body of an athletic Greek god. He most likely didn’t exist, but he had ruined me for anyone else. A single, soft word made its way through my lips. “Why?”
Liam absorbed my gaze. “Not witnessing this doesn’t erase nor diminish what happened. Don’t you think this a fair way to honor the people who lost their lives?”
The words scraped through my throat. “I thought that was what our annual ‘Extinction Day’ commemoration was for.” I hated the crass term. It didn’t sound at all like an honor. Instead, I added, “I hate Gina for terming it something so cold.”
Liam took my hand. “You shouldn’t worry about her, Cassidy. She’s just a crazy old bat.”
Although it wasn’t his fault, I glared up at him. “Are you sure that’s all she is, Liam? Because I’m not.”