The handprint appeared on a Tuesday, on the side of the White Desert.

Apollo froze, gardening trowel still gripped in his hand. As the wind whipped around the Noria dome, dust began to cover the handprint until it was gone completely.

He glanced around the fields, trying to see if anyone else had witnessed what had just happened. Derek was the only one close enough to have maybe seen anything, but he was hunched over, raking away weeds that came out of the damp ground with a faint tearing sound.

Apollo looked back at the spot where the handprint had been. It was gone, erased from existence.

As crazy as this event was, he could almost chalk it up to imagination or a hunk of dirt and sand that had hit the glass. It had almost been driven from his mind as he walked back home after the 7 o'clock alarm sounded for the whole city. He would walk the fields home and wait for a tram. The tram would take him to the edge of the city, where he would take the elevators down. Down to the barracks level. They had done a fairly good job on the barracks level, Apollo thought to himself as he boarded the elevator with perhaps one too many people for the weight limit. Still, he thought to himself as the elevator cage closed and descended, it was better than Earth.

Over 15 generations ago, Earth had begun to fail. Crops withered away, people were sick, the air was too hot. Luckily, people had been turning to the stars for just long enough that starting a colony on another planet was feasible. They had already sent people to the Moon and Mars, and people had visited the next closest star systems. Noria was discovered long before it was needed. It was said to have been a perfect planet, with a climate much like Earth's. So the first colonizers were sent, along with the supplies needed to build a colony.

This was an expensive endeavor, for sure. With governments failing left and right, the only way to space was through a private company: ExoReach. They kept up morale with their slogan, "Your future, just a reach away." They sent their astronauts, and humanity waited on Earth with bated breath for the reports when they landed on Noria, 10 years later.

But the reports sent back weren't as promising as they had originally thought. Noria was a planet full of beautiful, white sand. And that beautiful white sand was terrible for farming and even worse when it came to the dust storms. And there was the slight issue of not being able to breathe.

So the process of building the dome began. After a few generations, it was ready for citizens. ExoReach began sending only the richest to Noria. It cost a pretty penny to get out of the solar system and to a new one, and so the exodus of the rich began.

Poor workers waved goodbye to the celebrities, trust fund babies, and technology tycoons and could only hope that their families would win the lottery. No, truly, there was a lottery that people would buy into in order to win seats on the next flight off of Earth.

ExoReach ran out of customers after the first couple of decades and now had a strange problem: Many of the new citizens of Noria couldn't or wouldn't work. Sure, some would pick up the necessary jobs for the upkeep of the dome, but many, unaccustomed to this new way of living, just didn't know how to work in the manner that was needed. The time of movies, influencers, and sports had faded into the past.

Then, like they had done in the past, ExoReach had another solution. They would fly out any person who wanted to leave Earth. For free. All they had to do was promise to work once they arrived. And thus began the second exodus.

The first ship carried 20,000 people, all sleeping the decade away. Many people chose to stay on Earth, hoping the lightening of the population would help.

That's as far as Apollo's history books went. No one knew what was happening on Earth anymore. Was everyone dead? Had the reduction in the population solved the chaos? Who knew?

The elevator shuddered, and the cage doors opened, allowing the crowded space to empty quickly. Apollo, who had been sandwiched in the middle, was finally able to take a deep breath and exit.

It was another ten-minute walk to his home, the small apartment granted to his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandpa. It had been the Hovrick dwelling for 10 generations now. The Hovricks weren't an old family by any means, but they weren't a modern family either, as people called them. Anyone with family on Gen 7 or less was considered modern and deemed lesser citizens of the dome.

Well, maybe lesser was a little harsh. But one could see how someone would think that by looking at how the economy was run on Noria.

In the Barracks, the air was at least 10 degrees warmer than the surface, caused by the heat of the boilers, O2 scrubbers, and sanitation, which were all housed in the Barracks. So Apollo had worked up a sweat as he walked to his building and then up the stairs to the apartment. His grandma, true to routine, was waiting for him at the door with a glass of ice water.

"Thanks," Apollo said, slightly out of breath, as he took the glass and gulped it all in one go. Grandma waited patiently and then took the glass back to the sink when he was done.

"Can I get you some more?" she asked.

"No, I'll be fine. Is Mom home yet?"

There was a twinkle in Grandma's eye as she said, "Oh, not yet, but I think soon."

Apollo noticed the playfulness in her voice but chose not to say anything about it. She was a silly old lady, always making the most out of life. It was sometimes hard to know when to take her seriously, so Apollo chose to always keep an open mind and hardly say anything about her antics.

"Have you gotten me my birthday gift yet?" she asked as she began to set the table.

Apollo hung his workbag up on his hook. "I can't tell you that," he said, now matching the playfulness. "Or else you wouldn't be really surprised when you get it."

"Now, how would that work?"

"I know you've been snooping in my things, looking for a gift," Apollo said, laughing. Grandma clutched her beaded necklace (last year's birthday gift). "Apollo Hovrick, how dare you accuse your grandma of that!"

He shrugged, walking towards the sink. "I can tell when my things have been moved." He began to wash the dirt from under his nails.

Grandma wouldn't deny the searching. She was always just too excited about her birthdays. She would be 35 in a few days, a staggering achievement.

On Noria, the way of life was different compared to Earth's. Instead of having children, couples would submit bio samples, and ExoGen would grow them a child in a matter of weeks. The child would be born, appearing to be around the age of 12. That seemed to be the average age of a machine-grown person, so people just assumed the age of 12 once they were born. This made it easier for families to get out of debt.

Because ExoGen had sent thousands of people to Noria free of charge, they had to find a way to get back the money they had spent. And that was through charging the citizens for every little thing. Initially, everyone was in debt to the amount of 100,000 credits. That's what it had cost to get them there. Once on Noria, people would work that debt off. When they needed things to eat, they could go to the supply stores and charge their debt for items. People thought that even with this strange system, they could still work hard enough to pay off the debt and become a Sovereign Citizen.

What people didn't realize was that it was nearly impossible to stay caught up with the debt. It cost credits to do anything—to eat, to wash clothes, to have electricity, to be born, to go to school, everything. Nobody could truly own anything, instead having things leased to them.

But there was something a person could do in order to relieve some of their family's debt: die. With a voluntary death, 10,000 credits were taken from a family's tab. It was the easiest way to reduce a family's debt. But it would mean never seeing the fruits of one's labors and becoming a Sovereign Citizen.

Norian tradition was as follows: A person was born, aged 12. They would go to school and work part-time until they were 18, then they would marry and begin their career. At age 20, they could apply for a child. The child would be born. When the child was old enough to work, the person would bid their offspring adieu and sign up for voluntary death. This took place in the ZeroO2 sites. Once death was confirmed, the 10,000 credits would be removed from the debt, and their ashes would be given to the offspring, as it was traditional for spouses to die together. This made the average age at the time of death 26 years old.

The Hovricks had a different point of view on life, believing in the importance of family. Apollo was the only kid in his class with grandparents, and it made him both admired and ridiculed. Some people thought it was amazing and would ask him what it was like. Others said his family was selfish, taking up resources they didn't need. Most people thought his family was stupid because the Hovricks were one of the poorest families on the planet. The debt tracker, which hung on the wall of every home on Noria, always had a staggering amount on it.

As Apollo glanced at it tonight, he read the numbers 9,999,129. He jumped slightly and then dashed over to it, tapping the glowing screen with his wet hands.

"Hey, watch the water," Grandma said, reaching over to turn the sink off. "Let's not waste in this household."

"Grandma," Apollo said, breathless once again, "when did this get below 10 mil?"

She smiled slyly and glanced out the window. Apollo followed her gaze and received another shock as he saw his parents—both of them—enter the apartment.

"Dad!" Apollo cried, rushing over to the man and wrapping his arms around him.

"Hey, buddy," Dad said, his voice muffled in Apollo's shoulder. "How you doing?"

"I didn't know you were getting out today," Apollo said, pulling away to look at his dad. The man was thinner than he had been before being taken to debtor's prison, but he looked happy. His face was covered in a scraggly beard, and there was a new scar that lined his forehead. Apollo reached up and poked it. "Where'd this one come from?"

"Ah, lucky number 13 there? A bit of a squabble went down a month ago over some food. Nothing too exciting."

Apollo smiled at his dad, gripping his shoulders as he looked at him. He realized he could truly look his father in the eye now.

"I'm as tall as you now," Apollo said. "I think I finally got my last growth spurt a little bit ago."

"Wow, you're right, look at that!"

Apollo's mom brushed past them. "I'm going to get dinner going," she said.

"Don't worry about it," Grandma said. "I've already got it ready. Your dad just ran out for some milk."

"Milk!" Dad exclaimed. "You're going to put me right back in prison with that one!"

Grandma waved a hand. "We'll be fine, just this once."

They all sat together, the happiest Apollo had ever been in a long time. His dad was home for now and they were enjoying the best meal they could afford. Apollo had never remembered such a feast. They had three types of food: steamed green beans, grilled chicken, and milk. This would truly be a night to remember. It was so memorable, it pushed any thought or concern about the handprint on the outside of the dome.

WORD COUNT: 2014