Golden Anniversary.

As the flag reached the top of the pole, the uniformed official lifted both arms upwards and outwards in the salute of the Planetary Supervisors Association. A resonant roar built to a crescendo and he bowed his head as two star class fighter rockets flashed overhead, their titanium based wings sucking in the sun’s glow and throwing it as diamond like sparkles to pattern the watching crowd.

The noise faded into the distance and he turned back to the podium and adjusted the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, I first saw that happen when I was six year’s old and the noise made me cry for hours.” He pushed his uniform cap backwards letting the light touch his lined brow. “Now, I welcome you to the golden anniversary of the population of this planet. I shall not dwell on the reasons for the demise of earth and the nuclear havoc caused by warring nations in their Middle East. Awareness of what occurred is both taught to our children and analysed by adults on a daily basis.”

He touched the mask that hung suspended in front of his throat. “When America first discovered Planet 650/Alpha, we had no idea that simultaneously Unified Europe had developed an inter planetary transit vehicle. Fifty years ago a fleet of ten of these tpts as we call them left a ravaged, war torn earth for here.” He paused, holding the mask across his mouth for a while. Then as a murmur of approval spread through the crowd, he smiled. “Not quite identical to earth’s atmosphere, but an occasional three second burst from this little baby and we can manage fine.” He opened his arms and shrugged. “Okay, our sports activities must all take place indoors. Never made any difference for darts and snooker players, though.” He waited for the laughter to die down. “Fifty years. And yes, today is more than a golden anniversary. It is a celebration of fifty glorious years of living on this planet.” The applause ran for several minutes until he raised his arms. “As you all know, we have decided 650/Alpha is not the most appealing title for our world. The competition to find an acceptable designation has now finished and we have chosen fifty possible conclusions from which to select.”

He pointed to the office on his left from where a group of uniformed personnel were walking across the grass. In front of them six children encircled a teenage girl in a green flowing dress and carrying a brightly coloured box. As they reached the podium, the children formed a half ring around her. Dipping her head in acknowledgement, she extended the box towards the speaker. With a smile he shook his head. Then, holding a finger to his lips, he turned to the lad closest to him, took his arm and led him to the box. Bending his head, he whispered to the youngster who looked embarrassed. Then he plunged his hand into the box and removed a card. As the crowd clapped and cheered, he scurried back to his place and stared at his feet.

“My friends,” the official held the mic and stared at the card. A smile spread across his face. “Ladies and gentlemen, this is our world, our environment, where we live…”

A voice shouted from the third row of the audience, “Get on with it then.”

Laughter erupted and the official dipped his head before laughing back. “I reckon you all know what was in my speech. I only have one word for you and that is..” He paused, then coughed gently, “…Rebirth. That is the new name for our planet, Rebirth.”

A chorus of approval swelled into cheers and shouts of joy. The little boy who’d chosen the card ran to his mother who sat at the front of the audience. The official nodded wisely; the two fighter rockets roared overhead again and the newspaper editor wondered whether to use ‘Born again’ or ‘birthday’ for his morning headlines. Perhaps, he thought, why not just Golden Anniversary.