科幻小说——草

MiraZon

# 草 此刻，地球最后一棵草枯萎时；此刻，火星第一棵草发芽了。 那是一抹微弱的绿，纤细得仿佛随时会被火星的狂风撕裂。它扎根在一片贫瘠的红色土壤中，周围是无尽的荒凉与寂静。地球上，曾经郁郁葱葱的草原已化为黄沙，人类的足迹在风化中逐渐模糊。而在这遥远的红色星球上，那棵草的出现，像是宇宙对生命的一次低语。 火星的第一棵草并非偶然。数十年前，人类的探险队将一颗颗微型生态舱送往火星，里面装载着经过基因改造的种子。这些种子被设计为能在极端环境下存活，吸收稀薄的二氧化碳，抵御强烈的紫外线辐射。科学家们希望它们能在火星的土壤中扎根，为未来的移民铺平道路。然而，地球的崩溃来得太快，通讯中断，计划搁浅，那些生态舱被遗忘在火星的荒野中。 直到某一天，一颗生态舱在一次罕见的火星风暴后暴露出来。舱内的种子受到微量液态水的滋润，奇迹般地苏醒了。它没有观众，没有掌声，只有冰冷的岩石和稀薄的大气作为见证。那棵草的根系缓慢但顽强地在土壤中延伸，汲取着微乎其微的养分。它的叶片虽小，却在火星的微光中努力伸展，贪婪地捕捉每一丝阳光。 这棵草的出现，像是生命的宣言。它不属于任何人，却属于整个宇宙。它没有名字，却承载着地球曾经的梦想。火星的天空依然猩红，风暴依然肆虐，但在那片荒凉中，这抹绿色成了唯一的异类，仿佛在诉说：生命，总会找到出路。 然而，这棵草的命运并非一帆风顺。火星的夜晚寒冷刺骨，温差足以撕裂最坚韧的细胞。它的生长速度缓慢得令人绝望，每一片新叶的展开都像是对死亡的挑战。科学家们若还在，可能会为它的存在而欢呼，但他们早已在地球的末日中消逝。如今，这棵草的奋斗无人知晓，它只是默默地生长，孤独地对抗着整个星球的冷漠。 与此同时，火星的天空中，一颗人造卫星仍在无声地运转。它是人类留下的最后遗产之一，记录着这颗红色星球的点滴变化。卫星的传感器捕捉到了那抹绿色的存在，将数据存储在无人查看的数据库中。或许有一天，当新的探险者踏上火星，他们会发现这棵草的痕迹，惊叹于生命的顽强。 但在那之前，这棵草将继续它的旅程。它不关心人类的期望，也不畏惧火星的严酷。它只是生长，带着一种近乎盲目的执着。它是火星的第一棵草，但绝不会是最后一棵。因为，只要有一棵草能存活，就会有第二棵、第三棵……直到火星的荒漠被绿色覆盖，直到生命的火种在这片星球上熊熊燃烧。 这棵草，是希望的起点。 # Grass At the moment the last blade of grass on Earth withered; at that very moment, the first blade of grass on Mars sprouted. It was a faint hint of green, so delicate it seemed as though it could be torn apart at any moment by the fierce Martian winds. It had taken root in a patch of barren red soil, surrounded by endless desolation and silence. On Earth, once-lush grasslands had turned into yellow sand, and human footprints were gradually fading away, weathered by time. Yet, on this distant red planet, the emergence of that blade of grass felt like a whisper from the universe to life itself. The first blade of grass on Mars was no accident. Decades earlier, human exploration teams had sent micro-ecological pods to Mars, containing genetically modified seeds designed to survive extreme conditions. These seeds were engineered to absorb thin carbon dioxide and resist intense ultraviolet radiation. Scientists had hoped they would take root in Martian soil, paving the way for future colonization. However, Earth’s collapse came too swiftly. Communications were severed, plans were abandoned, and those ecological pods were forgotten in the wilderness of Mars. Then, one day, a pod was exposed after a rare Martian storm. The seeds inside, nourished by trace amounts of liquid water, miraculously awoke. There was no audience, no applause—only cold rocks and a thin atmosphere to bear witness. The roots of the grass extended slowly but tenaciously into the soil, drawing meager nutrients. Its leaves, though small, stretched eagerly in the faint Martian light, greed capturing every ray of sunlight. The appearance of this blade of grass was like a declaration of life. It belonged to no one, yet it belonged to the entire universe. It had no name, yet it carried the dreams Earth once held. The sky of Mars remained crimson, storms still raged, but in that desolation, this hint of green became the only anomaly, as if proclaiming: Life always finds a way. Yet, the fate of this blade of grass was far from smooth. Martian nights were bitterly cold, with temperature swings capable of tearing apart the toughest cells. Its growth was agonizingly slow, each new leaf unfurling like a challenge to death. Had the scientists still been around, they might have cheered for its existence, but they had long perished in Earth’s apocalypse. Now, the struggles of this blade of grass went unnoticed. It simply grew silently, alone against the indifference of an entire planet. Meanwhile, in the Martian sky, an artificial satellite continued to orbit soundlessly. It was one of humanity’s final legacies, recording every minor change on the red planet. The satellite’s sensors detected the presence of that hint of green, storing the data in a database no one would ever access. Perhaps one day, when new explorers set foot on Mars, they would discover the traces of this blade of grass and marvel at the tenacity of life. But until then, this blade of grass would continue its journey. It cared not for human expectations, nor did it fear the harshness of Mars. It simply grew, with an almost blind determination. It was the first blade of grass on Mars, but it would not be the last. For if one blade could survive, there would be a second, a third… until the deserts of Mars were covered in green, until the spark of life burned fiercely across the planet. This blade of grass is the dawn of hope.

Andantono

nb，绝对神作