text: I remember waking up to a blinding bright light. I squinted and waited for my eyes to slowly adjust to my surroundings. I was cold, freezing actually, standing in a strange metal tube with a large glass door before me. I quickly searched for an escape and found a large red button saying “release”. Instinctively, I pressed it. The glass door slid open, releasing hyper-cooled air into the room. I stepped out and noticed 5 other tubes in the room, the same structure as mine, their contents hidden by the clouds of chilled gases. I looked around. I was surrounded by gadgets and gizmos, all of which I had never seen the likes of. Lights were flashing, monitors beeping, and machines whirring and clicking. I watched the strange do-hickeys operate for a few seconds, transfixed by the complicated inner-workings. I concluded that I had been abducted by some sort of extraterrestrial being, and some baby alien is going to rip through my stomach after using me for all of my nutrients. By the time I had made peace with the fact that I had been probed, I noticed a sound. It was different from the ticks and clicks and beeps and boops of the high tech alien space technology. No, this sound was softer and familiar. I listened closer, yes, I do know that sound, it's the sound of my old guitar. I could hear the gentle vibrations of the strings producing such lovely little notes. I followed the sound, out of the tubular room and down the hallway. I entered what must have been the bridge of the spacecraft. A massive window allowed the red Martian surface to be in full view. It looked as though we were in orbit. There were seven seats in the command room, but only one was occupied. It was the source of the music, a man older than I, most likely in his early fifties. His eyes were closed, and he was playing a simple tune, one I had heard before, but could not identify. I stood there listening to him play. His hair was white and short. His face was clean-shaven and he had laugh lines on his cheeks. He wore glasses, 1950s style, nothing interesting. I’m not sure how long passed before he noticed me. Lazily, he opened one eye, still strumming his tune, and gazed at me before closing it again. “Good morning.” He said. “Hello,” I replied, a bit annoyed, “What’s happening, where am I?” He chuckled, “You’ve got some memory loss I see.” He waved me to sit down in one of the chairs, “You will remember everything in time, but I suppose I can catch you up while we wait for the others.” The others? I guess the others in the pods. I then noticed the convenient amount of seating on the bridge. “Welcome to the USS Iroh, where you have been asleep for the last six months. The first, and last human mission to Mars.” “What do you mean, ‘first, and last’?” He gave me a look that told me the answer wasn't a good one. “Humanity has fallen, and not due to an outside force. There was no meteor, no plague, and no global climate destruction. Humanity fell because we thought that we were above the rest of the animal kingdom, but we follow the same rules that they do.” “I... I don’t understand.” My memory was so fuzzy still. I remember things being bad on Earth but I never imagined an end to civilization. “The problem that brought about an end to society has been around since our species' childhood on the planes of Africa. The ego. Because we can only see and observe and perceive from our senses, we create an invisible bias to ourselves, our problems, and our existence over anything else. I perceive me as me and everything else as, well, everything else. “This bias, ever so slight, caused slavery, racism, the wealth gap, and the premature deaths of countless human lives. We all believe that our point of view is better than others, and if someone argues that view, winning is more important than being correct. “What happened to humanity was simple, we forgot what truly mattered. We forgot that we are all humans, and we are trying to do our best at life and we fail all the time. We forgot that we are only as strong as our weakest link, and when half of the world does not have access to clean drinking water, our species is as weak as that half of the human population. “We forgot how to think for ourselves, and we chose to let other people take care of our issues. We forgot how to reason, and think about our actions and decisions. We forgot how to imagine, and dream, and strive to achieve the impossible. “We forgot what makes us human. “So, because we never learned to truly care about one another, our constant bickering and hatred continued. All it took was one irrational person to rise to power in a country nobody expected, to begin the apocalypse. A few brilliant minds saw the war coming and engineered this baby,” he slapped the main console, “Humanity’s final stand.” “Is there anyone else on board?” “There's seven of us on the bridge and 50 civilians.” “But, why me?” He sat up in his chair. “I’m not sure how much you remember, but you might be able to guess.” I thought for a second, “I worked on this?” “You were the chief engineer,” the man chuckled again and handed me my guitar, “Do you remember why we called it ‘Iroh’?” “I can’t say that I do.” “General Iroh, a fictional character, yet important nonetheless. Iroh, once a warlord who was responsible for the deaths of thousands of men, decided to give up everything he had after losing his son in battle. Through his emotions, he came to understand his true destiny, to spread the message of peace, kindness, hope, and prosperity. He reminds us that though we have made great mistakes, we can be redeemed.” “So you’re saying there’s hope?” “In the darkest times, hope is something you give yourself.” He smiled at me, “And besides, I don’t believe in the impossible.” Then he looked up toward the hallway. A woman, maybe early thirties, was eyeing us with a look of confusion. “Good morning, please, come sit.