[AUDIO) We begin on a space station, hearing the hum of the slow turning engine. The room is large and nearly empty.

ARCHIVIST: Welcome to the Archives. Our record for review today will be from section 27: Historical Worlds. Today’s sample is from Thelddin, one of our now uninhabited mechanical mines. Before we begin I would like to take a moment to update you on the situation with our first reviewed record. The specialists believe it will be available for listeners in a few more days although there may be a few places where the audio is beyond repair. We will be advised as soon as it has been restored to the best possible quality.

Please note that any opinions expressed in these samples belong solely to the speaker on record and do not reflect the views of this station, the archival union, or the Collected Archives itself. If anything in this review causes listener distress or confusion please report to the nearest attendant for assistance. Potential sources of distress include the sound of severe weather. Please also note there will be time for questions and observations once the sample has concluded.

_[AUDIO][At the sound of an electronic swoop, the sounds of the space station fade away. They are replaced by the sound of a storm, wind gusting against stone. The sound echoes as if inside a large stone room.

[AUDIO] A rock being dragged over stone._

DES: Oof! Well, that storm came up quick. Good thing we’re already snugged up in here. Just give me a little time and it’ll be as sound as the house ever was.

[AUDIO] A baby squeals and makes small noises as Des speaks. More noises of rocks being moved.

DES: Hm, probably sounder if I’m being honest, which I suppose I should be, given everything. I’ve always felt that good conversation helped hard work along, and since everyone’s busy in the living cavern except you and me, and you’re barely old enough to hold your head up, I guess conversation falls to me. I’ll record it though, so that someday when you want to know who that old man was and they talk to you about Nanny Des you’ll have something other than echoes and tall tales to go on.

[AUDIO] The scrape of a trowel.

It’s odd to think, you won’t remember any home but here. Sure, you were born under a warm sky but by the time you have any idea what’s going on the wind’ll have worn all our old places away. Eh… You’ll likely find the caverns a comfort, safety and home, not gloomy and dark. Heh. Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe after a few more kids are born here and you start growing up, there won’t be as much longin’, pinin’ for the sun and the outside. Let me tell you, right now it’s so thick you could drink it.

[AUDIO] Happy baby squeal. The baby babble and sounds of trowel digging and scraping continue under Des.

DES: They’re still talkin’ about how much to tell you, you and any other kids we have I mean. There’s a group that wants to teach you just like they were taught, history and nearby planets and even surface agriculture just in case things heat up again or something. Some of the rest want to start a whole new batch of traditions and make history start with today, with movin’ in. Ah… I guess I don’t see how you can begin any kind of story with “We moved off the surface and into the caves and it was much better, and then Des built a wall because he knew how, and then the wind stopped comin’ in.” Too many questions live on the edges there. No. We’re a curious species, humans. You’d never let that stand.

Our story began a lot earlier than that, kiddo. Hmm. We could start it when we came to the world maybe, and some other stubborn fool like me was building a wall, except this one was under the sky, houses for new colonists, farms and wind towers. We could start it when we first tapped the core, when energy became easy and cheap, when money from the other worlds started comin’ in. We could maybe even start with the first cold summer, a bunch of scientists and politicians runnin’ around tryin’ to decide what was happenin’, what to tell the rest of us, and whether to wait until after the last big shipment from the core went offworld.

[AUDIO] The trowel digging gets a bit more forceful.

DES: The answer, for the latter when you’re wondering, was yes. They waited.

We could start there. [heavy sigh] I’d rather start earlier, with that other hopeful human and that other wall.

[AUDIO] The trowel sounds are back to normal, mixed with baby babble and the sound of rocks being set down.

DES: I bet we’ll talk about those days outside like it was paradise, like there were rivers of honey and no one had any work to do, like we never fought, were never cold.

[AUDIO] A rock dragging over stone followed by continued trowel scraping and rocks being put down.

DES: That’s what we do with change, we wrap the old way up, words and soft blankets until it’s easier to hold, until it gives us some comfort. Truth is there were a lot more of us than you’ll ever see, a lot of brave, bright people, a lot of greedy ones, and everyone else in between. I think at last count some eighty of us made it to the cavern today. We might find a straggler or two before they’re frozen, but there were eight billion people here.[AUDIO] Fast digging and a high pitched baby squeal.

DES: We lived stacked up in buildings so tall you’d think you could walk out onto the roof and touch the stars. You couldn’t. You’re young enough for fairy tales but trust me, the stars are really far away. Good thing too, since they conned us.

[AUDIO] The baby starts to babble a lot under Des’s next words.

DES: “But Des, that was people, right? The stars didn’t do anything.” I can hear you arguin’ with me already, and you’re right but let me have my stories and my little bits of poetry and lying. I’m building you a wall after all. It’s a fair trade.

This wall’s just the start you know. By the time you’re walkin’ around we’ll have taken that livin’ cavern and walled out spaces for everyone. We didn’t bring much, too busy tryin’ not to be noticed while they were shippin’ us all offworld. Food and fuel and enough material to make a home here, to live out some years and make a go of it. There’s plenty of room left for everyone to have their own place, somewhere they can go to get away and think, or just enjoy some quiet. I think I’ll make mine here, by the outer wall. Maybe if the wind dies down and the world warms up I’ll hear the change.

It’s not a solution, holing up in a cave while the world freezes. We’re meant to live out there. We’re meant to eat food that grows under the sky, and to feel the sun and wind, to drink water that runs in open air. This cave, this wall, our tiny cluster of people clinging to the skin of the world, we’re just waitin’.

[AUDIO] A rock dragging across stone, and the baby laughing.

DES: By the time you grow up, that world out there will be a myth, or a memory, or it’ll be better enough for us to try again. Maybe we’ll have learned somethin’. Maybe we got lucky and we did stop in time, and with so few of us left the core’ll have a chance to recover. Maybe someday we’ll tear this wall down, and the wind won’t steal the breath out of us. Twenty years is what we’ve planned for. Long enough for you to grow up.

[AUDIO] Happy baby squeal and babble

DES: Long enough for us to learn a new way of livin’. Long enough, maybe, for those offworlders to forget how rich we made them, and forget that some of us slipped through their nets.

Meantime, while we wait, I’ll make you a place where the wind can’t find you, where the stone can hold in warmth, and where nothing will crawl over you while you sleep. I’ll make enough walls for all of us. That’s good enough for now. It’ll keep my hands busy and my mind free. I’ll build all the walls we need, and leave tearing them down for you.

[AUDIO] The baby laughs and makes small noises until the end.

Now let’s get you back in your basket. I’m thirsty. My hands could use a break. And I’m sure your father’ll have missed you by now.

[AUDIO[ The audio continues for a moment before the electronic swoop again signals a change. The sounds of the storm fade away and the sound of the space station returns.

ARCHIVIST: This is the longest intact sample from a series of recordings found in the ruins of a community on Thelddin approximately sixty years after the planet was deemed uninhabitable and depopulated. The people who emigrated from Thelddin have merged into most of the societies in this region, but occasional expeditions to the ruined planet still uncover new artifacts. Unfortunately, no record was made of any inhabitants remaining behind, nor is there evidence of anyone surviving beyond the first generation.

This concludes today’s record. This recording will be available for review by our next session barring any delays as our data specialists work to repair the recently damaged record of our first session. If you have any questions or wish to comment on today’s experience, please visit an attendant and they will happily record your response.

[AUDIO] With a softer swoop, the sounds of the hall fade out to be replaced by the sound of a smaller, softer room. An office.

ARCHIVIST: Ma’am, I know it was an unexpected choice.

FIRST ATTENDANT: They weren’t even one of our worlds.

ARCHIVIST: They almost were. Do you think th-..?

FIRST ATTENDANT: Could we have saved them? I doubt it would have been worth the expense. Choose something less… small next time won’t you?

ARCHIVIST: … small [sigh] Yes.

[MUSIC[ A sparse, lonely repeating motif with a sound like crystal, a shifting bed of strings underneath.

CREDITS: The Last Echoes is written by Trace Callahan with editing by Evan Tess Murray. Direction is by Evan Tess Murray. Sound design and music are by Trace Callahan. This episode features Jimmie Yamaguchi, Chijioke Williams, and Trace Callahan. We are so glad you’re here to share these stories with us. To find us online, find us at Lastechoes pod, on Twitter, the Fediverse, and Tumblr or visit our website lastechoes.com. We’d love to hear from you.

Thank you to our season one supporters, including Maddie, Rebekah, Kate, Anne, Christopher, Holly, Tina, Stephanie, and Caroline.

Keep telling your story, the babysitting and thunderstorms, the hard work and quiet plans. Together, our stories make our whole world. And when all that’s left is an echo, no one’s voice is small.