The colonists of Zeta-Varellus-13 were promised an artificial sun. Seventeen years later, darkness persisted. So did silence, long-range radio communication lost years ago.
Colony President Barbara awoke early, as usual, staring out her window at the black sky. Suddenly, a faint glow in the distant horizon. It wasn’t a spot of light, but a blanket of it. Her heart pounded. Could it be?
Science Director Amos called.
“Barbara, my God!”
“Could it be, Amos? Our first dawn?”
“Barbara, the power plant on the far side… it’s gone. We’re burning.”
Hopes destroyed, she bitterly ordered retreat underground.