The Last Astronaut

By Chris Dietzel

As the human population fades away, one man decides to spend the rest of his life amongst the stars. He isn't trying to escape the extinction. He's trying to get away from something else.

A novelette by the author of The Man Who Watched The World End.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris Dietzel
• Release date: Dec 27, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370057788

Chris Dietzel

Chris graduated from Western Maryland College (McDaniel College). He currently lives in Florida. His dream is to write the same kind of stories that have inspired him over the years.His short stories have been published in Temenos, Foliate Oak, and Down in the Dirt. His novels have been featured on the Science Fiction Spotlight, been required reading at the university level, and have been turned into award-winning audiobooks produced by Podium Publishing.Outside of writing, Dietzel is a huge fan of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu (BJJ) and mixed martial arts (MMA). He trained in BJJ for ten years, earning the rank of brown belt, and went 2-0 in amateur MMA fights before an injury ended his participation in contact sports.

Book preview

The Last Astronaut

A Great De-evolution Novelette

Chris Dietzel

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidence.

THE LAST ASTRONAUT, Copyright 2017 by Chris Dietzel. All rights reserved.

Published in the U.S. by Watch The World End Publications.

Originally published in June, 2017 as part of the Orphans in the Black anthology of original fiction.

Edited by Matt Butterweck

Cover Design – Chris Dietzel

Photo of Jupiter – Used with permission of NASA

Photo of Bob – Taken by the author

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Also by Chris Dietzel

The Great De-evolution

The Man Who Watched The World End

A Different Alchemy

The Hauntings of Playing God

The Last Teacher (Short Story)

Dystopian

The Theta Timeline

The Theta Prophecy

The Theta Patient (Short Story)

The Theta Decision (Short Story)

Epic Space Fantasy

The Green Knight (Space Lore I)

The Excalibur (Space Lore II)

The Round Table (Space Lore III)

Lancelot (Space Lore IV)

The Sword In The Stone (Space Lore V)

Avalon (Space Lore VI)

The Gordian Asteroid (Short Story)

Satire

The Faulty Process of Electing a Senior Class President

1

Space is not like what you might imagine it to be. At least, it's not what I imagined. Before leaving Earth, I envisioned sailing across an ocean that was not only in front of me and behind me, to my left and to my right, but also above me and below me. All around. I imagined being able to feel the shuttle moving through space the way a boat makes its way through the ebb and flow of the seas.

It isn't.

It's more like being stuck inside a cramped one-room efficiency apartment and having a void of black for as far as you can see in every direction. Mind you, it's a tiny apartment that you can never leave, let alone open a window to get fresh air, order your favorite Chinese take-out, or anything else.

Or, as one of the lead project managers in charge of the mission once said to me, "You'll be tempted to think of it as a prison cell but it's not because you want to be there."

That's the only difference? I had asked in my youthful naivety.

He had a casual smile. Yep, that's the only difference.

I thought to say, Oh well, you only live once. Given the circumstances of my voyage and that of the human race, I decided it might not be in the best taste. Instead, I had merely shrugged.

Nothing the project manager said that day made me rethink what I was doing.

***

I was ten years old when my parents had the talk with me. I was twenty-two when Bob died. One year later, I went into space. Those three events, so drastically different from the trio of milestones in traditional lives--falling in love, getting married, having kids--are why I am and forever will be the last human to leave Earth.

***

Your mother and I need to talk to you.

Those were the words of my father as he stood in the doorway of my bedroom when I was ten. His face was void of cheer. My mother was standing diagonally behind him so his body and the doorway combined to keep her out of my line of sight. The exception was her head, which peered over my father's shoulder.

The way he spoke, the way they both looked at me, I was sure I had done something wrong. My mind raced through the day's events. I hadn't broken anything and tried to hide it instead of bringing it to my parent's attention. I hadn't said a curse word. My fingernails were intact, something my mother inspected each day as I slowly got out of the habit of biting them. As far as I knew, I had done everything I should have.

Both of them stepped forward, into my room. My father's eyes scanned the floor around my bed, and I suspected that whatever else they had to say he would also tell me to clean up the mess.

Put your book down, dear, my mother said.

The copy of Bridge to Terabithia that I'd been reading slipped from my fingers and landed without noise onto my comforter. If I wasn't in trouble, and I didn't think I was, I thought I might know what was going to come next. They were going to tell me about Santa Claus, which I already knew about. There was also a chance they might talk about something concerning birds and bees. Only a