Earth was dead. Humanity moved on long ago.

To Jenne, exploring Earth was a treat. It was cracking open an ancient vault of secrets. The entire planet was a time capsule of forgotten diaries, shattered dreams and long lost memories. A treasure trove rather than a cemetary. Something to be savored.

Jeanne couldn’t help but smile behind the helmet of her spacesuit as the shuttle approached the dead rock. The Earth was cracked and gray. Lifeless, its oceans long dissipated. But in Jenne’s mind, it was still that little blue planet of wonder she always read about, teeming with life and possibilities.

It made her smile.

Happy families, beautiful gardens, lavish homes. There used to be exciting seasonal weather and beach sports. It was an experience she could only enjoy by reliving other people’ cataloging of the events. She was always a studious reader, and nothing interested her more than the accounts of others from this dead world.

To Andon, it was business as usual. He was a pilot, and he had a state-of-the-art shuttle he earned through the many years he's worked with Jenne. He flies, she collects. That how it works. Then he goes back to his home and squanders his money until Jenne phoned him for the next journey.

The shuttle had red and white painted walls.

Displays hung in the air, showcasing old movies and videos, all of them presently silenced. The seats were too comfortable for a common utilitarian space shuttle, but Jenne and Andon could afford it. Their treasure hunting partnership was successful.

Jenne was renown in her career field. While most went treasure hunting as a last resort - becoming mineral miners on astroid colonies - Jenne flung herself at the opportunity to unearth the ancient treasures of the dead world. It was tough, expensive and dangerous. For years she toiled and labored, exploring Earth and retrieving ancient artifacts, selling them to museums and history hungry collectors. She loved everything about her job.

Nothing fascinated her more than the dead Earth. In a way, she felt like she were reviving the planet. She longed for it. After all, it’s where all of humanity came from.

Jenne ran her fingers over the plush red armrests of her chair as she gazed out the main viewer of the shuttle. The scent of her and Andon’s morning coffee lingered in the air. The temperature in the shuttle cabin was a pleasant, icy breeze. Through the viewer, the remants of the broken, charred world grew closer.

From the front of this shuttle cabin, Jenne could see the back of Andon’s chair as he piloted the craft.

"Landing real soon.”

“So soon? I was enjoying the ride.”

“And now you need to pay for the fuel.”

Andon was calm. He’d been her pilot for many years. His glove-adorned fingers clicked and pressed buttons on the various control panels nearby. Andon was the best pilot their company had to offer, and he handled the shuttle as though it were an extension of his own body. Jenne had nothing to worry about when Andon was at the helm. For years they’ve been partnered: the dynamic duo of astro-treasure hunters.

Jenne turned her gaze out the window to watch their approach. For a moment, she wondered if they’d experience turbulence passing through the atmosphere. But then she remembered: Earth’s atmosphere was long gone.

The shuttle descended. Metallic pads spread out from the bottom of the hull in time to catch the impact on the surface and absorb it. Another perfect landing by Andon. Thin dirt spread into the air, but with no wind to carry it further, it settled as dust. The shuttle whirred as it shifted into low-power mode, preparing for the astronauts to disembark.

Jenne and Andon conducted their safety checks.

Jenne tapped her bubble-dome helmet. “Comms?”

“Comms.”

Jenne tugged her harness. “Harness?”

“Harness.”

"Oxygen?"

"Plenty."

“Climbing supplies?”

“Always.”

They took turns inspecting each other’s spacesuits, arms spread wide, turning around and tightening the different straps and belts along their suit and supply packs. The space suits were big and clumsy, packed with utilities to sustain its own climate control within and provide oxygen in deprived environments. Little flourishes adorned the outfit, including dual-sealing to avoid minor tears on the uniform, and improved gloves for added grip: most helpful for treasure hunters.

“You look handsome as ever, Andon.”

“Funny. Is this going to be a short trip?”

“Maybe. I scouted a fine-looking district that seems mostly intact, though sunken.”

“How big of a profit?"

"Won't have to work for a year, if my intuition is correct. And it's always been correct."

The helmet was the first and last thing to be checked, ensuring it maintained a proper seal on this uninhabitable planet. It was big. With it on, neither could see each other’s face. It provided only a dark reflection of the other person.

The safety checks were complete.

Andon pressed the button to open the doors of the cabin.

The exit door of the shuttle was unsealed. It opened, tilted, and landed in the flimsy dirt below. Jenne and Andon stepped down the ramp the door had created, and onto the dark gray surface of Earth. The ground broke under their feet, leaving cracks in the footprints over the long settled dust and dirt.

Jenne took a deep breath. The helmet was already pumping in fresh, pure oxygen. It smelled sweet, in starch constrast to the inhospital planet they were on. From behind her helmet’s visor, Jenne's curious eyes soaked in the surroundings.

“Just beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Not sure we’re getting the same image. Your helmet sealed properly?”

“You need to appreciate the finer things in life, Andon.”

“I appreciate a good paycheck.”

"Why are you so grumpy? I thought you enjoyed being a pilot."

"Don't get me wrong, I love the long trip and the stuffy shuttle cabins, but I'm ready to get back home and get on with my life."

The two of them stood on a cliff overlooking what remained of a metropolis. Its gray, ruined buildings and twisted glass stretched down into the depths of the earth. The sun baked the color off neon signs, turning them crispy and thin, as though they could fall apart at the slightest touch.

The highways and roads had long crumbled apart. Bridges had collapsed and asphalt sunk into empty earth. Cars were lodged into buildings. Many of them rested silently on the streets, frozen in time from a world long abandoned. All the color of the vehicles' once varied paint were wiped away by the unthwarted heat of the sun over many long years.

Not one cloud lingered in the sky. There was only the radiant glow of the sun, its beams unrelenting. The sun had long strangled any vegetation this planet once had.

And yet, despite the miserable state of the Earth, Jenne was enthralled with its exploration. She was fascinated about how cities wound up like this, how the weight of buildings would break through the surface and dig lower. Some of the buildings and streets broke through the earth and formed a subterranean district. It was unrecognizable in its destruction, from all of the art she’s seen as a child. The cities on Earth were so much different from the ones she's used to. To her, this was a wonderland. To Andon, this was a workplace hazard.

Jenne and Andon stepped out onto the roof of a building. The surface of the roof was sloped. It was as though the building was frozen in air, tilted and perpetually falling backwards.

"This is the one," Jenne said. She patted the sides of her suit's pants, once, twice. "This is the place. It should be stable enough. Let's head down."

"We're heading down? Into the subterrainian level?"

"Yes, the apartments were around here. I don't see them up here, sooo..."

"Got ya. You know I hate going below ground."

"I told you the area was sunken. At least we have a tilted building that won't crumble when we try to fall down it. It'll make it easier to go down and back up."

Andon hammered two stakes into the edge of the roof. Jenne affixed the rappelling gear and prepared her harness. Andon looked up from where he was working. “What do you hope to find this time?”

“An apartment. Maybe I can get some photos. A journal? I like those the most.”

“You have a hundred of those. How about something bigger?”

“Hmm, bigger? Like what?”

“Maybe a statue. They had many statues of their historical leaders and popular figures.”

“And do you think I could fit a statue on your ship?”

“Valid. Maybe a figurine, then.”

“The journals are all so different,” said Jenne. “Most are about love. About loss. They tell the story of people who want to be remembered. Each journal is that person crying for attention, all begging to be read after the writer is gone. To be remembered.”

"It's like leaving a legacy behind." Jenne connected her harness to the rappelling rope and ensured it was secured to the grappling point.  “Maybe you should write a journal,” she said to him.

Andon reached up to wipe the sweat from his forehead, before hearing the silly clunk of his arm hitting the space helmet. Then, “Nah, no one would want to read those when I’m gone.”

“You don’t want people to remember who you were?”

“That’s what children are for.”

“And yet, here you are, with no children.”

Andon tightened his harness and backed himself to the edge of the building, right next to Jenne. “I’m not in a hurry.”

The two of them had their back to the edge of the roof atop the crumbling skyscraper.

"These subterranian areas give me the creeps."

"We'll be fine, Andon. Trust me."

As rehearsed a hundred times before, they exchanged a nod, leaned back, then kicked off the side of the building to begin their rapid descent.