Proxima B - Completed

Proxima B

 "Well, that's done!" Marcus Mason stood, brushing rich soil onto his white overalls. "Now, off to get a cup of coffee." He strode off towards the aluminum arch that marked the passageway to the interior living space of the Proxima Colony Dome 1As he walked, Marcus observed the three suns of Proxima B. After two Earth-years on Proxima, he felt at home. He could have sworn the skies were a little bluer every time he looked out, though that was scientifically impossible at this stage of terraformation.

He had spent four years on a ship in hibernation to get here. Hibernation technology was not so advanced that he stopped aging, so he had lost a few years. He had also spent thousands of American dollars during the admission process. He'd had to buy a ticket on the Kirk, which was over two thousand alone, and he'd been required to go through rigorous training and testing of his mental and physical state, as well an assessment of his usefulness to the colony. And this, he had gained only through hours upon hours of filling out an application that cost seven hundred dollars to submit. Yes, he had given up much to come to this planet. But it was worth it. A whole entire unexplored planet, even larger than Earth, was ready for the taking. All he had to do was live long enough to see it.

He arrived at the small café on the eighty-ninth floor exhausted by the 127% Earth gravity on the stairs that commanded the top ten floors. However, he was energized by the warm, bittersweet scent of freshly ground coffee. With greenhouses and farm fields that extended on several layers for several square miles, PCD had grown a coffee crop large enough that fresh coffee was available every third Saturday during the fall and winter stages of the plants. There was even sugar for sweetener, as there was a crop of sugarcane as well. Marcus plopped into a plastic chair and signaled Fiona, the designated barista, for his usual iced coffee, six sugar, three creams, with a wave of his hand.

"Too tired to stand, Marcus? Yer gettin cranky like me, old friend." Lukas, an Irishman who'd decided to retire from the increasingly political state of Earth and, in his own words, "Get me 'ands dirty again, do somethin useful." His extensive knowledge of light drive systems and his MacGyver-like resourcefulness had landed him a place on Mayflower III.

"Haha, I don't think so, old chap. I'm just taking a break. I've been in the fields since sunup, I'll have you know!" As he finished, he stood from the chair and strode over to the counter.

"Sunup, he says! On a tidally locked planet!" Lukas scoffed.

"Fiona, dear, how has your day been?"

"Great, Dr. Mason! But no one's been as loud as you today. Sheesh!"

Marcus chuckled, "Fair."

She passed him a tall metal cup, cool to the touch. "Here's your coffee, sir."

"Ah," He said as he took a sip, consequently decorating his upper lip with a mustache of cold foam. "There's nothing like coming in from work to a nice, cold—

"What was that?"

Marcus had detected a bright flash of light in his peripheral vision, coming about from the area in the sky where Proxima's host star was located on the horizon, relative to the huge, curved, transparent wall of the café that was a result of being one of the highest floors. As he turned his eyes to the spot, he saw a huge loop of flame protruding from the burning half-sphere, climbing nearly eight degrees into the sky. As everyone else in the room followed his gaze, a collective silence grew. Muffled shouting could be heard in the hallway as men and women rushed to the observatory atop the dome.

Marcus hardly dared breathe.

All the colonists had been educated on space weather before beginning their journey, been let know about the devastation of a powerful solar flare even a full Astronomical Unit from the host star. Proxima B was only half that distance from catastrophe.