If There Is a Gun in Act One…
You always have a choice
The gun was there. It wasn’t a big gun, but how big does a gun need to be after all?
She hadn’t noticed it at first, too concerned with the basics of waking up in a strange location, the grogginess of coming out of an unnatural sleep. She lay still on the narrow bed blinking heavy eyelids which refused to function properly. The sounds were her first clue something was very amiss — the hiss of an unfamiliar ventilation system.
The bed wasn’t right either. She felt a gentle hum and vibration even through the thin mattress. And it was much too narrow. This wasn’t her bed. She wasn’t at home.
Her body protested as she pulled herself up to a sitting position. How am I here? Where am I? Her brain fought with itself as she tried to deny the truth staring her in the face.
She couldn’t be on the spaceship. She had refused to board. Surely they wouldn’t… surely they couldn’t…
She looked around the room. Calling it a room was a bit too generous. Cubicle was more appropriate. There was room enough to stand next to the bed and walk to the door. She approached the door with trepidation. Would it be locked? Am I a prisoner?
The knob turned easily in her hand. She poked her head out to see a stark white hallway lined with doors spaced evenly and tightly together. The doors continued as far as she could see in either direction but rather than growing smaller and smaller the corridor seemed to gently curve up.
She slumped back against the bed. There was no denying it now. She was on the ship.
Were they already underway? Maybe I should run down the curving corridor seeking a way out, someone to help me, someone who would know it was all a big mistake. I don’t belong here. I don’t want to go. It was probably too late but maybe I can still fix this.
She started to head out the door then stopped. What was the point? Where would I run? Back to the ones who betrayed me? She stepped back into the cubicle and shut the door behind her.
That was when she noticed the gun. It was sitting there in plain sight on top of a stack of neatly folded ship’s coveralls. Obviously, they had meant for her to find it.
Memories of the night before came flooding back. Her shock when they first explained what they had done. Their pleading and her refusal.
“I would rather shoot myself than get on that ship,” she had said. Is that why the gun was there? Were they calling her bluff?
“I’m not strong enough to go without you,” she had cried. “Who will keep me safe?” Was the gun their answer? The only way they could think of to continue to protect me as I traveled light-years away from them?
“I want to die with you, not be torn apart by some alien beast on a distant planet.” They had glanced at each other meaningfully when she said this and nodded their heads. She had taken it as acquiescence at the time, their recognition of her right to choose.
“If you are quite determined,” her mother had said tearfully, “to pass up your only chance at life, I guess we can’t stop you. Let’s have a drink together.”
Her heart had swelled with love, grateful they were giving up so easily. She could see their point. The three of them had been so excited when the colony ships were announced. A chance of life, a way off of their doomed planet.
But the good news was soon followed by devastating limitations. No one over the age of 40 would be allowed a berth. No young people would be forced on the ships if they choose to remain and wait for the asteroid impact, but no older people would be allowed the choice of escape.
“We need to save our resources for the healthy young people best able to make a new life for themselves among the stars.” The government guidance was clear. She had immediately decided to stay and die with her parents. Despite all their pleading she refused to apply for a spot on the ship.
But last night her parents revealed that they had applied in her name. There was a berth for her on the ship departing tomorrow morning. She remained steadfast. She would not get on the ship.
Her dad made one last try, “We’ve lived twice as long as you. We want to die knowing you’ve had a chance to live. Please give us that one last gift.” Tears streamed down her face but she still refused.
Now in hindsight, she could see they hadn’t accepted her choice at all. They were merely implementing plan B. They had anticipated her rejection and prepared for it.
“A toast,” her mother had said returning with their drinks, “to the love between us that can never die.” She had tossed back the drink and hugged her parents sorry to see the pain she was causing but unwilling to leave them for an unknown future.
The next thing she knew she was here, on the ship, with the gun.
Why the gun? she wondered anew when her tears of anger, frustration, and loss receded for a moment. Why this one gift sent with me to the stars?
Was this their way of giving her back a choice after they had denied her the right to choose death with them? We are sorry, they seemed to be saying with the gun, we loved you too much or maybe it is ourselves we loved too much. We couldn’t take the pain of knowing for certain you would die with us. With this gun, you can end your life at the time of your choosing.
Or was it yet another attempt to manage her life even as she soared beyond their grasp forever. Use this to protect yourself. People go crazy in unsettled times. Be prepared.
She picked up the gun and examined it. It was her grandfather’s pistol, lovingly maintained over the years and never shot outside of the shooting range. Waves of loss and longing for family and a life that was no longer possible racked her body until she was trembling so much she nearly dropped the gun.
She steadied herself and raised the gun to her temple. She could end it all now. She sat there, pistol cocked at her head, not moving until her arm started to ache with the effort. She slowly lowered it down and tucked it in the pocket of her coveralls and headed out to explore the ship.
Her choice was made.
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