Teeming Masses

Maris was perfect, unaffected by the human parasite. Not just yet. Its miles of red surface, untouched by human hands, was a monument to the perfection of nature. Humanity could only destroy the universe, piece by piece, and could never reach the perfection it embodied. Erath was the victim of that. Maris would suffer that fate.

The extent of human civilization had grown beyond its reasonable limits. Erath's swarming masses were out of control. They had to reevaluate their technology before they could look for another place to call home.

Something was required to protect people from alien elements while offering the conveniences of home in order to support life elsewhere. This need led to the renowned Scientific Convention in New Amsterdam, where scientists worked nonstop for months until they created a workable, effective colonization shield. Although he politely acknowledged the contributions of all those present at the convention, Hubert Montgomery was given credit for the design.

The world watched in wonder as the first ship set sail for Maris, the most promising planet for colonization, shield in hand. The United States, Russia, and China collaborated on the mission, with each country sending its own astronauts to participate in this historic undertaking.

The ship went down.

A catastrophic malfunction in the navigation systems caused the ship to explode violently upon the bleak, barren terrain as it entered the Marisian atmosphere. Long before help could reach them, the harsh environment would have taken their lives, even if someone had survived the impact.

The world came back to overpopulating the fragile world they had left after lamenting the loss of the courageous men and women who had died for humanity's ambition.

Nobody would go that far again for another three years. And nobody was aware of it when they did. No announcements announced the trip, and no curious eyes watched as the craft approached Maris. The piece of space debris that punctured the ship's hull and rendered it unusable was, in fact, unknown to anyone. Until five months later, when family members demanded answers, they were also unaware of the six lives lost in the service of humanity. The whole story came to light only when public outcry erupted. The people realized that their own inability to see what was happening in front of them was their own fault.

A third ship was launched ten years after that first tragic journey. The ship landed on the Marisian surface without incident, despite loud protests that Maris rejected them and dire forecasts of another catastrophe. The shield's design, which had been carefully adjusted over a ten-year period, proved perfect when it was deployed and tested.

The populations of the two worlds started to balance after thirty years of colonization, and life continued on its path toward self-glorification. A prospector named Cody Amerson, who thought Maris had gold veins, took the next step toward ruin.

No one gave Cody Amerson enough attention, despite the fact that he was medically insane. He was convinced that the government was hiding enormous gold reserves beneath the surface of the earth, and he set out to uncover them in order to demonstrate that his theories were true and not just fantasies. Rather, he discovered something far more precious than gold—something that would change the world and ultimately bring about its destruction.

He didn't intend to discover it. He ran into opposition while excavating in an area he was positive contained gold. When he looked more closely, he found a metallic ore buried in the ground. After collecting samples for analysis, he discovered that it was a metal that Erath had never seen before. Something completely different.

Although korium, as it was called, was unstable at liquid temperatures, it had a melting point so high that very few facilities built by humans were able to liquefy and shape it. Technology was supposed to be revolutionized by this metal. Humanity believed it could conquer the universe with Korium, and it might have.

When a new product comes out, the old one has to be thrown away. Iron and steel were dropped in this instance. They were less robust and long-lasting than Korium, but they were simpler to control. This new metal quickly flooded the world, taking over everything from mailboxes to skyscrapers with its distinctive reddish hue. The majority of iron and steel factories went out of business as a result of people's enthusiastic embrace of everything Korium—it was the new fashion, the new standard, and the new trend.

Displaced factories had an opportunity to adjust to the increased demand, but many were too poor or bankrupt to pay for the expensive upgrades required to process Korium. Anger at the prosperous Korium producers surged. Iron and steel, which were once the foundation of Erath's construction, eventually became obsolete due to the metal's market saturation. However, the Korium boom did not benefit everyone.

Cody Amerson had no money. Ownership was not granted by discovery. Amerson got nothing for his discovery, even though the metal had his name on it. A mentally ill beggar could not gather enough money to stake a claim because ownership rights belonged to the people who bought the land. He was horrified to see how Maris's surface was destroyed in the pursuit of Korium. The planet's structural integrity was soon weakened by the numerous twisted tunnels that slithered through and around one another. It was a catastrophe just waiting to be taken advantage of. And it was exploited.

A significant influx of colonists arrived precisely twenty months prior to the unimaginable, but it was not realized that many of them were laid-off employees of the closed iron and steel factories. It occurred sixteen months prior to the most catastrophic event in human history. It was regarded as the most catastrophic incident that humanity would ever experience. They were mistaken.

There are many theories, but no one knows exactly what happened. While some contend it was inevitable, with or without Cody Amerson, the majority concur that he was the catalyst for the events. Everyone agrees that the participation of a physicist was crucial, but it is still unclear who this betrayer of humanity was.

There was an explosion to start. The cradle of death was Maris's tunneled surface. There is disagreement over the blast's cause. Some people think that Korium was melted and turned into an explosive; others think that there is another, unknown element in the soil, and that it is kept secret to avoid widespread panic and a flight from Maris. Death was the outcome, regardless of the cause.

Untapped Korium veins were melted by the explosion's intense heat as it ripped through the tunnels. According to some theories, the planet was surrounded by a series of explosions rather than a single blast. Whatever shape it took, Maris was split in two by the fallout. Within a hundred miles of the planet, every electronic device was destroyed. The few unlucky ships in Marisian orbit were abandoned, their crews doomed, and there was no chance of rescue as interplanetary ships ceased to function.

There were no more signals coming from Maris's surface. Its inhabitants were imprisoned in a prison that was once a planet, cut off from the outside world. As days went by with no salvation, hope waned. The initial explosion claimed thousands of lives, but it wasn't the last.

Maris looked to the unaided eye from Erath like a mere reddish star. Then it was apparent. Thousands of people looking up saw the explosion light up the night sky. Many thought it was a celestial event, a supernova. Few people knew it was Maris. The others thought nature had given them something to admire and marveled at the beauty of the heavens. They were unaware that it was a human invention, something to be feared rather than rejoiced in. Some people continued to find beauty in the devastation even after the truth came to light.

In a public speech, United States President James Wilton expressed his deepest sympathies for the victims of the Maris tragedy. In an attempt to save survivors, he sent every ship he could find to the remains of the planet. He then started building enormous atmospheric shields all over the country four months later. Numerous nations strengthened their defenses in a similar manner. A collaborative effort to revitalize arid areas and bring life back to desolate lands was the declared goal. The always hopeful people thought this was what their leaders really wanted.

President James Wilton declared he would not run for reelection in two years, citing health concerns, one month after the shields' construction got underway. The public lamented the elder statesman's departure because they felt sorry for him. Three months later, he was compelled to reveal that a large portion of the space fleet had tragically been lost, which he attributed to a lack of understanding of the changed Marisian terrain. Maris's residents were stuck and would likely die before more rescue efforts could be carried out.

Suspicion spread around the world. Numerous people asserted that Maris's pieces were headed straight for Erath, posing the threat of the greatest impact in recorded history. Mapping the two pieces' trajectories was a hastily assigned task for experts. By showing that the pieces would miss the planet by at least a thousand miles—ample margin for error—President James Wilton assured the public that Erath was safe.

James Wilton, the president, was lying.

Both pieces of Maris were shaken by secondary explosions four months after the original explosion, which changed their course. In five years, the sun would devour the larger piece, which was positioned on an inward spiral. Then there was silence.

It took much more skill to hit Erath with the smaller fragment. And that accuracy was attained.

Every ship arrived safely at Maris and made a successful landing on its cracked surface. But departure was not possible. The ships were sabotaged and rendered useless by radical anti-Koriumites, as President James Wilton privately referred to them as trusted advisors. The war of greed claimed more lives.

President James Wilton left his successor with this legacy.