Baba Yaga In Orbit -- Part 2 [FICTOID]

Bright white and blue lights ring the station, making us visible to the naked eye on Earth’s surface.

When the bright white and blue lights pass across the starry sky, billions of children send their prayers and wishes up to her.

Billions this year.

Millions a decade from now.

Thousands a decade after that.

And then?

It depends on whether what’s left of humanity can learn to live with their leisure or not.

Baba Yaga now circles above Earth, making parents’ lives easier by chiding children to mind their nano-nannies, eat their veggies, brush their teeth, take their insulin.

She’s the new folklore of the 22nd century, but as children grow, they learn more about Svetlana Ivanovich, focusing less on Baba Yaga.

And while Svetlana lives, we tend to her.  She has not spoken to any humans on Earth for thirty years now, but the image of her as Baba Yaga lives on forever.

Eventually the last child willgrow to recognize that whatever the reality of Svetlana, the legend of Baba Yaga is all fiction.

Sooner or later the last child will stop believing, either because they age out…or because they die.

Once Baba Yaga’s function is fulfilled, there will be no reason to keep the pretext going.

What happens to us then?  To the station?

That depends on so many factors.

Perhaps the stations ion thrusters will nudge us into the sun…or crash us into the moon…or if deemed safe enough, somewhere on Earth.

Texas is nice and empty now, maybe that would be a good spot.

Or maybe the opposite will happen, we will be sent out of the system to wander the stars for hundreds of thousands / perhaps millions of years.

We’ll go cold and inert, but perhaps some other species will find us / revive us.

What would they make of the legend of Baba Yaga?

Baba Yaga’s caretakers gently escort her back to the medical module, leaving me to plug leaks / patch holes / keep lights on / air humming.

As Baba Yaga’s caretakers and maintenance droids, we will continue serve until such time as not only she is gone, but anyone who cared about her on Earth is gone.

And when they go, so shall we.

© Buzz Dixon