May you escape the heat death

A faint shadow cast along the ground. It stretched across the dirt strewn lands from its base in the centre of the settlement to the low hilltop where Malk sat. The faint disk of the failing star touched its top and he uttered the silent prayer handed to him from his father, just as it had been passed down so many times before.

"May you escape the heat death."

His jacket, torn and patched for countless generations, billowed a little as it caught the cool breeze that came with night. Soon the temperature would be too low to bear and any caught outside would be dead by morning.

Time was of the essence.

He slid down the far side of the hill, letting gravity do much of the work. Free energy and he would need what little was lest in his wasting muscles before the night was out.

"Is it ready?"

Sal, her face caked in dust and dirt, waited at the path. A year younger, her parents betrothed her to some upstart in the elder circle. Not that Sal was the sort to follow tradition blindly. If she were then she would not be here.

"I think so," he told her. "I've done as much as I can."

They held hands and exchanged weak smiles. Smiles used muscles and muscles used energy. Always conserve energy.

+++

Long, easy strides carried them along the path at surprising speed. Both held back, refusing to let lose the excitement growing inside. They completed the way at least three thousand times before but this was different. This had a finality that would demand all their strength.

Five marks and they reached the small shed that stood alone in a deep ravine. It must have lain here for centuries, hints of its existence passed down through legends and myths no one took seriously. Yet once they found it the stories made sense. Did that mean the rest was also true?

"Be careful," Malk warned as he heaved the door open.

"I know," she scolded.

There was no light left. The last rays of sunlight danced across the black sky, leaving hints of blue in their vision. But that's all there was. No other stars. No other moons. Just the endless blackness of the dying universe.

He felt for the bar with his free hand and when he found it, he brought Sal closer. Down he went, counting the steps until he reached the last and felt his way across the hard flat floor. Counting paces and with his back against the wall, he stopped when he reached the box and fumbled for the lever.

"Lights," he called out.

Blinding light tore at his sensitive eyes. He clamped his arm across his face, shielding himself as best he could. Even after a few minutes bathed in the warmth of the strips across the ceiling, everything appeared washed of colour.

Still holding hands, they followed the strips to the door with the round handle. It moved easily now Sal had repaired it. None of their traps had sprung, but Malk still held the metal stick - a 'wrench' - high. Its weight would make up for the lack of strength he could put behind any blow.

Beyond was a room where the light was bearable. Two chairs, padded and comfortable, were pushed beneath platforms on which were countless buttons and switches all marked in the Old Tongue. Sal, coming from a family in the elders circle, knew some of the symbols and slowly deciphered what she did not. Malk put his back into more practical matters, though one could never have achieved so much without the other.

Malk settled into the chair on the left. He waited for his companion to take her seat beside him and they held hands one last time.

"Online," he said, repeating the incantations Sal taught him as he pushed a lever forwards.

Deep within the mountain an ancient reactor murmured. There was still life in it, perhaps enough to bring heat and light back to the settlement. But to what end? That was the conundrum the friends struggled with as they went about the task of repairing the silo.

Tiles on the wall opposite flickered. One-by-one they lit up, showing symbols and picture that were once terrifying magic and now mundane. Both looked across them in a methodical check that compared what they saw to the pictures in the book they'd memorized.

"All systems are A-okay," Sal said.

Malk hesitated. He reached in to the drawer under his platform and removed The Book. The page fell open where he needed and he skimmed the symbols until he understood their meaning.

"Second stage tank must be vented," he read, each word carefully and clearly pronounced.

Sal tapped the platform before her and squares with the Old Tongue appeared. Her fingers danced across them, each lighting up as she pressed it until one of the tiles transformed into a circle, part red and part green. The red part was too large. "Venting second stage tank," she said and typed again.

Nearby the monster sighed. Malk pushed it from his mind.

"Venting complete," she said when the red was banished.

"Now all systems are A-okay," he confirmed. "We must be careful," he warned.

"Sorry, Malk."

Damn the energy. He smiled at her and let her know everything was fine.

What came next they rehearsed over again in "simulator mode". The machines trained them, teaching them the right order in which to press the right buttons. Sometimes things went wrong and they learned how to correct them before the monster was lost.

"Do you want to practice?" he asked.

She considered it for a few moments. There was doubt in her, but wasn't there always?

"No."

A box covered a red button. When he pressed it the machines made a noise. It sounded like words he could never understand.

"Live system is online," he said, not realizing that was what the machine had told him.

The monster growled and the ancient generator screamed. Their protests faded behind the machine's familiar hum.

Lights flickered across the tiles. Sal read those in front of her, Malk the ones in front of him. A playful back and forth as the repeated the incantations and touched their symbols.

"Fire control, go."

"Control systems, go."

"Propulsion, go."

"Flight systems, go."

"Navigation systems, go."

"Payload, go."

"Safeties to off position."

Sal pressed a button on her platform and pushed it forwards. The top of the tiles flashed red until it turned green.

"Safeties are off."

"Fuel pumps are on."

"Primary ignition is primed."

This was as far as they gone with the 'Live system online". As far as the machines would let them. After this, according to the simulation, the monster would come alive.

"May we escape the heat death," she told him.

"Yes. May we," he agreed.

A final deep breath and he pressed the bright red circle glowing on his left. And she did the same.

Symbols from the Old Tongue appeared before them. A line and a circle. A circle with a line. Two circles.

The monster awoke. It rumbled deep in the mountain, its growl growing louder with each passing moment. The ground began to shake and shiver.

"I want to see it," Sal said. "Can we?"

Energy be damned. They ran through the bright tunnel and bounded up the steps, passing two at a time in their excited rush. Outside the roar was deafening and the monster had begun its flight. It rode on a column of fire that lit the ground more brightly than the sun had ever managed. Upwards, pushing upwards into the black, starless sky. Leaving behind a trail of white that clung to the mouth of its cave.

"It's going the wrong way," Sal cried.

"No," Malk said and put his hand on her shoulder to comfort her. "It has to do this. I read it in The Book. I didn't understand it all but it is doing the right thing."

As it climbed higher the strength left her legs and she fell. He lasted a moment more before he joined her. Lying in the dirt looking up at the bright star speeding into the dying universe. The only other star in the dark black sky.

"It's beautiful," she gasped.

"It is," he agreed and held her hand.

+++

Dak sat alone at the top of the hill, watching the long shadow creep towards him. The star's light was so weak it barely cast a shadow across the rough dirt. He held his hand up to his face and wondered what colour it was.

As the sun dipped behind the great needle he saw the magical pinprick of light. There were legends around it, stories about a monster set free or the spirits of forbidden lovers chasing an escape from the heat death.

It was, he fancied, much closer to the star than usual. Had he ventured closer he would have found a missile riding waves of gravity emanating from its target. Drawn down into condensed gasses and plasmas as just the right temperature and density for the plan to succeed. A wild plan created when mankind wandered the stars and clever people with impossible ideas built missiles with warheads that would escape the heat death and buried their knowledge in myths and legends that reverberated down through time to the last planet and its dying people.

But all Dak saw was the star blink out and a moment later he ceased to exist.

In his place was an explosion of such magnitude that its effects would be felt for billions of years until this new universe died a heat death too.