Distance 7
Prologue:
The Aeolian Mode
Year: 2300
Earth's First Fleet launched toward Eden, humanity's great hope for colonization beyond our solar system. After years of unmanned probes and automated landing vehicles confirming its habitability, we would become the first humans to set foot on an extrasolar world.
Our first few hours escaping Earth's orbit were marked by hopeful sadness. We had left everyone we loved behind, but this was to be a grand adventure—the greatest adventure in human history.
Among a fleet full of scientists, pilots, engineers, and soldiers, I stood alone as the entertainer — a pianist for the military band. The small locket containing my family's royal crest remained hidden beneath my uniform, a reminder of a heritage I had abandoned.
With nearly everyone else belonging to some specialized team, I remained an outsider.
No, I stood alone.
I sat at the piano and looked out at the audience. Many were happy, drinking and having a laugh. But some were sad, preferring to be alone with their thoughts. My fingers began to dance across the keys, each note carrying both the hope and sorrow of our journey.
I opened with a D minor, settling into an easy-flowing melody. My fingers found the 5th note, giving the piece an surreal quality that seemed fitting for our journey into the unknown. When I flattened the 6th note, the Dorian scale emerged, carrying a sadness that resonated through the room. I moved to an E minor chord, feeling the tension build, before striking a G major that transformed into something almost triumphant. Finally, I returned home to D minor, quietly ending the piece as our fleet drifted further from our stellar home.
***
We landed on our new planet two weeks ago — approximately three and a half weeks in Earth time. as it turns out, for this world is not the Earth analog that the scientists had predicted. The temperature is significantly colder than expected considering its atmospheric composition and distance from the sun. The ground, as a consequence, is unfriendly to agriculture, except for a few hardy root vegetables. The storms are much more frequent than we had anticipated, and although our habitations have so far remained stable, we've had to reinforce them with the precious few materials we have.
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However, despite these hardships, the mood is one of optimism, and the pioneering spirit of the great days of exploration has been reborn. The engineers tirelessly work on our buildings. The scientists eagerly survey our environment, and the former soldiers have now reinvented themselves as our farmers and laborers.
Each evening I play for the tired and overworked settlers. I play an A major chord shifting to a B major over A. Ah yes, that raised 4th reveals the Lydian scale underneath. I alternate between these two chords, However, the Lydian scale doesn't work well for long periods. I switch to the E major scale, saving the piece and adding a sense of joy to the music. The audience barely notices me as the sound of the piano blends in with their celebrations.
***
Last season's harvest has once again failed. The agony of starvation has now become a very real proposition as news of food shortages is announced to the settlers. The response is silence as this possibility has already entered all of our minds during the last few months.
During what would be our last trip outside before the storms made it impossible to leave, the captain returned with something held tightly in his hands - a small metal object covered in strange markings. His face looked different than I'd ever seen.
We're not the first to come here, the captain whispered, showing us what he'd found.
Before we could study it properly, the worst storm yet hit us. Our final shelter began to break. Protocol Horizons was put into action. The storms, the never-ending storms, had made living here impossible long-term. We all knew this might happen when we left Earth. But facing it now was something else entirely.
The last messages to Earth were sent, although it will be many years before they will receive them. We gathered inside our last undamaged habitation, most of us very weak from hunger, and listened as another storm ravaged our settlement. Slowly, the oxygen was released as we waited for our eternal sleep on this alien planet.
The captain turned to me. Play us into the abyss, one final time. I understood what he was asking and took my place at the damaged piano to play a final goodbye. My heart was heavy as I looked at the people in front of me. Some were still breathing, steady and purposeful. I began my final piece by playing an F minor chord, slowly arpeggiating the notes up and down. I moved from the 5th to the flat 6th, down to the 4th, and then to the 2nd. Finally, I played the flat 3rd before returning to F minor. I continued to play as all breathing and movement stopped. The dead planet we found was a dead planet once more. I fell forward onto the piano, the sound of dissonant notes echoing throughout our tomb. The Aeolian mode is the most fitting scale for our current predicament. The final notes ever heard on Eden.
