February, Part 2

February 29th was the day we found out, a date almost as unreal as the events that would unfold upon it.

I don’t remember the morning in detail, it was just the usual daily blur, waking up, showering, getting dressed, eating breakfast, all the usual affairs. Only one thing stood out: My mother listened to the radio over breakfast, which wasn’t in and of itself unusual. What was unusual was the broadcast. Every five minutes or so the DJ reminded the listeners that there would be a special government broadcast at 6pm that they should, under no circumstances, miss.

On my walk to school, no one really looked where they were going. All eyes were on the Eye, now undeniably changed. The eyelid was now fully visible, warping its shape to something fundamentally wrong. “The Eye is round” was a phrase people used to illustrate something being obvious, like “The sky is blue” or “Grass is green”, it was a simple fact, synonymous with factuality itself.

And just like that, it changed.

We were all home by 4pm. It seemed that nation-wide people had been sent home early from work, to allow time for everyone to travel and prepare for the 6pm broadcast. Everyone had a vague idea of what it would be, obviously it concerned the Eye, but the specifics we could only imagine. The hope was that there was nothing to worry about, that we were all mistaken and our lives were going to continue as normal, but in our heart of hearts, we knew that would never be the case.

Regardless, we still hoped. After all, what else were we to do? Humanity has changed immensely throughout our history, but the one thing that’s never been lost is our will. Humans have done a great many things, fought, killed, colonized, cannibalized but we have never, ever gone quietly. It’s our nature to resist, to never give in until the last moment.

None of us dared to leave the living room as we waited for the broadcast, we remained paralyzed in our seats as the time glacially passed. The seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours, and the two brief hours turned not to days, but to years.

And finally, at 5:59. Time stopped entirely. Not a whisper of wind the world-over. The human population held its breath, unprepared for the last minute to pass and for everything we were praying for to be proven false. Millions of voices all in unison were crying “No!”. “No!” to the very passage of time. “No!” to that last second, begging it to hold the line and stay with them, even just for a moment longer.

Time is cruel and indifferent. For all my talk of human resilience, we were weak in comparison to the march of time. We could stop and consider, we could care. Time could not, and so it marched on against all of our wishes.

The president was the one to deliver the message. He was a fat man, but the sheer despair in his expression made him appear gaunt. We were only allowed a brief glimpse of this, as his well-trained features quickly shifted back to a more agreeable, more electable look.

“People of the Central Western Republic.” He began, his naturally high voice forced to a deeper, more authoritative register. “I’m sure you are all aware of what this broadcast is about, but for the sake of those who do not know and those who may be mistaken, allow me to unequivocally state the following; The Eye is closing.”

There it was. The moment the end of the world began.

“Please, do not panic. Do not switch off this broadcast. This is essential information.” He spoke slowly and firmly. “According to our estimates, we have 305 days remaining until the Eye closes completely.”

I was so focused on the TV that I didn’t notice my mother pull me into her arms. I don’t think she quite realised that she did it, either.

“This means we have 305 days to find a means for humanity’s continued survival!” His passion intensified, a half-hearted attempt to rouse an entire nation. “We have already begun an international initiative to ensure our continued survival. Results so far are promising. To report on our progress so far, I give you the man in charge, Dr. Fritz Schrodinger.”

For all his eccentricity Schrodinger was a model man in appearance. He was tall, well-built and handsome. Only his messy blonde hair indicated his more unusual nature. He was hardly recognisable compared to the man he would be when I met him.

“Thank you Mr President” he began, “Presently our work is proceeding at a steady rate. We’re pursuing multiple potential options, the leading of which is something we’re calling a “space-ship”. It's a manned aircraft that will reach such high speeds that it will be able to exit the planet’s atmosphere and approach the Eye.” He seemed uneasy as he spoke, the pressure of the camera throwing him off. “Of course, this is just one of many options we’re exploring, but-” Someone off camera must have cut him off, he stopped like a deer in headlights. “Further details will be announced at a later date. We’ll continue working as hard as we can. Back to you Mr. President.”

The president nodded as the camera returned to him. “It is human nature to survive. We have survived disaster, disease, war and famine. I cannot say for sure what the future will entail, but I can assure you. We will survive.”

The broadcast continued a while longer, the president delivering further platitudes about the human spirit. While I agreed with the sentiments, they were empty coming from him. It was clear in his tone and clearer in his eyes, he had no faith in us. He knew full well the disaster that would soon befall us.

With his lack of faith in us, he expected far too much in return. People had little trust in their governments at the best of times, if they couldn’t prevent people going hungry, rising unemployment or economic recession, how could they be trusted with the end of the world? His words wound up hollow. How could we be satiated with only vague promises of “more details at a later date” and the science-fiction idea of a “space-ship”. In the end, the broadcast did nothing but concentrate the mass panic to this day and this very moment. The world was of course going to end, but it could have been gradual; Realisations would have been staggered, perhaps a few fortunate, blissful souls wouldn’t realise at all, but with this mass broadcast, intended to placate us, our self-destruction was set into motion.

Hell on Earth was soon to come.