On the 26th of September, 2043, the last of the thirteen Martian Exodus ships departed Earth, marking the triumphant culmination of nearly thirty years of scientific development in the field of space travel.¹ Together, they carried exactly ten thousand passengers; primarily doctors, scientists, and other educated professionals, alongside a number of unskilled labourers.² One of the most publicized elements of the project was its flagship’s all-female crew; the first of its kind. This crew, which included scientists, journalists, lawyers, and even a former congresswoman, was widely praised for its forward-thinking progressivism.³ The final ship cleared orbit at exactly 12:32 p.m.,⁴ a moment which was broadcast to nearly 9 billion people across the globe. It was a bittersweet moment for many,⁵ but it also represented a new hope for Earth⁶—a chance for humankind to stake its claim among the stars.⁷

¹ Thirteen shooting stars—almost too bright to look at. But we looked anyway.
² They took my brother with the first of them, for his calloused hands and giving heart. They took him up there, and they used him till his soul all burned up.
³ My mother didn’t cry when they found his body. She just kind of bent to the floor.
⁴ We were passing a joint around behind the gym, grimacing and coughing ’cause it was all stems. Someone pointed up, and we turned our heads in wordless unison to see them out.
⁵ I watched the fire and the smoke of their departure and thought I hope you all fucking die. I hope you all explode and burn to death.
⁶ I try my best to remember my brother.
⁷ I find my mother at night, standing on the porch. She grips the railing to keep herself from falling up, her face turned skyward. I feel him, she says, I feel him.