The Mammoth Book of Apocalyptic SF - Mike Ashley [238]
The beautiful shiny green ladies had all sorts of lovely art and precious things they made, not like the statues and paintings and like all back when other humans were alive. The green ladies make this beautiful art out of glowing hot gas that just hangs in the air for a while, then melts. One of the green ladies showed me this sculpture of red gas she'd made, then she pointed up at the sun overhead, and I sussed that they make their lovely sculptures from the same stuff as the sun. I know it's called plasma gas cus I learnt it off one of those holovids. After a long while, the lovely green ladies even managed to show me how to work one of their thingies so I could make words and pictures in the air out of burning hot plasma gas.
Then something happened suddenly and all the green ladies left in a hurry. I never knew why. They left behind for me their city and some machines but I couldn't suss how to make those machines work. It was nice they were here while it lasted though.
I wish the green ladies had taken me with them.
(gap)
The sun is right over me all the time now. Big red hot bloody hot.
Every once in a while I travel back to someplace where I was before and I find something I wrote a long time ago. I'm having trouble remembering what I wrote so long ago, so any time I find my own writing it's a surprise like reading summat for the first time.
My right eye is going blind like my left one did. I never sleep but I have nightmares awake thinking what it will be like for me when I can't eat drink sleep breathe and also CAN'T SEE and I will go through blind Eternity feeling my way forever. It's so bloody not fair.
It won't be long now before the Earth melts or drops into the sun. I don't much care which. What I want to know is will it finally kill me? If it does, peace at last.
What bloody scares me is the thought that I'll fall into the sun and die ... but then inside the sun I'll heal again, and die again, and so on forever. Too right it will hurt.
The sun has to die some day. I mean it won't be day anymore when it happens but you know what I mean. Just my stinking luck if Earth falls into the sun and I keep living anyway, and I have to feel the sun killing me all the time while the nano-things keep me alive for millions millions bloody billions more years till the sun finally burns out. I wonder if I can write words in burning plasma inside the sun like those green ladies from somewhere else taught me once. I wish the green ladies would come back. I hope maybe the
(gap)
Everywhere hot lava. Melting melting everything and I burn all over and it hurts it bloody hurts but as fast as I heal I get burnt again stop it stop it stop.
I can still see a bit with one eye. I'm writing this last part with a black flaky stone against a hard white stone but the stone's going soft. The sun's coming closer. After all these millions of years I suddenly remember an old happy song it goes here comes the sun it's all right, but no it's NOT all right. Everything is so hot and all melted. I'm sure it will come any
(gap)
At last at last at last billions of years falling into the sun hurry up will I die now or will it get worse now I'll know if
(gap)
oh damn its not fair
THE CHILDREN OF TIME
Stephen Baxter
Stephen Baxter began his career in 1987 with "The Xeelee Flower", a story that introduced his future history series, which includes the novels Raft (1991), Flux (1993) and Ring (1994). He attracted a wider readership with The Time Ships (1995), his sequel to H.G. Wells' The Time Machine, and went on to establish himself as one of Britain's most innovative and entertaining science fiction writers. His more recent books include the