In the not-too-distant future, humanity has explored the known galaxy. Technology has advanced to the point that manned interstellar missions are now commonplace. Seeking to expand their knowledge, they push further into uncharted corners of the universe. Working under the auspices of the United Earth Space Agency (U.E.S.A.), the mission of the current program, Manned Extra-Solar Expedition (M.E.S.E.), is to explore select Earth-like planetoids in distant galaxies to assess their potential for colonization and for any evidence of sentient life forms…
Vanguard 7, flagship of M.E.S.E., orbits P47X-343, unofficially designated “Terra Alpha 343.” Previous unmanned surveys indicate the planetoid to be habitably similar to Earth in composition, topography and climate. At the helm are mission commander Colonel Frank Adams, a brawny 20-year space veteran, and co-pilot Commander Evelyn MacAuliffe, an All-American collegian at the time of Adams’ first space launch. Navigator and communications officer Commander Neil Sheppard, whom Adams sponsored at the U.E.S.A. Academy, mission specialists Sally Baudry, biologist, and Yuri “Misha” Tereshkova, engineer, round out the crew, tasked with conducting a six month survey and reporting all findings to U.E.S.A. Central Command. The third planetary expedition for Adams and Tereshkova, this marks the first ever for the others.
After several low-orbital passes to scan the surface, they commence landing procedures.
“Abort guidance system initialization looks good, Colonel,” Commander MacAuliffe calls out.
“Roger,” Colonel Adams responds, “radar checks indicate fifty-thousand foot perigee. Our visual altitude checks are steadying out at around fifty-three thousand. We are go for powered descent, Commander. She’s all yours.”
“Roger. Go for powered descent initiation.”
MacAuliffe, poised despite her first non-simulated experience as command module pilot, calmly initiates planetary insertion. “Descent engine control gimbal, closed. Command override, off. Gimbal enable. Rate scale, twenty-five.”
“Copy. Alignment is go on abort guidance. On your mark, three-thirty until ignition.”
“Roger. Thrust translation, four jets,” MacAuliffe acknowledges. “Terminal control throttle, auto. Abort/abort stage, reset. Attitude control to mode control.”
“Okay. Mode control is set,” Colonel Adams relays to her, “standing by for engine arm descent.”
“Roger,” MacAuliffe replies. “Abort guidance and primary guidance agree very closely. No flags.”
Commander Sheppard, seated in the rear of the capsule and closely monitoring the navigation board, gives no cause for concern. “Rate of descent is looking good. Altitude is right on. We have good landing radar lock-on.”
“Roger. We copy,” MacAuliffe acknowledges. “Six plus twenty-five. Throttle down.”
“Copy. Six plus twenty-five throttle down,” Adams reiterates. “Abort and primary look real close. Throttle down on time.”
“Okay. Five thousand feet. One hundred feet per second, descent rate is good. Checking attitude control. Good.”
“Roger, all systems normal. We are go for landing, Commander.”
MacAuliffe continues counting down their descent. “Seven hundred feet, twenty-one feet per second down, thirty-three degrees.
. . . Six hundred feet, down at nineteen.
. . . Four hundred feet, down at nine feet per second. Fifty-eight feet per second forward. Pegged on horizontal velocity.”
“Reserve power level?” Adams asks.
“Eight percent,” Sheppard replies.
Adams looks out the command-side window, taken aback by the view. “Wow, it’s even more remarkable than the scans showed. Beautiful.”
“I have the shadow out there,” MacAuliffe states, unwavering in her task. “Two hundred feet, four and a half down. Good mark.”
“Nice pastoral area you picked,” Adams declares, “will be very accommodating for our camp.”
MacAuliffe, maintaining focus, does not react to his observation.
“Okay. One hundred feet, three and a half down, nine forward. Five percent reserve remaining. Quantity light, sixty seconds. Velocity light is on.
. . . Sixty feet, down two and a half.
. . . Forty feet, down two and a half. Picking up some dust.
. . . Twenty feet, down a half. Thirty seconds.”
Adams checks the event computer. “Contact light on. Shutdown.”
“Engine stop. Attitude control out of detent,” MacAuliffe affirms.
“Out of detent. Auto,” Adams verifies.
MacAuliffe begins full shutdown procedures. “Mode control, both auto. Descent engine command override, off. Engine arm, off.”
“Central Command, Aurora Base here,” Adams transmits over the holocom, “Vanguard has landed.”
After a few static-filled moments due to the delay, only a voice responds back.
“Roger, Vanguard. Receiving Aurora Base. Next report, one hour.”
“Roger, Central. One hour until next broadcast,” Adams confirms.
With stations secure, Adams addresses the crew over internal communications.
“Complete landing checklists. Misha, deploy solar panels to assist recharging system and see if you can clear up holocom visuals. Briefing with Central and meal in one hour, then commence exploratory operations.”
He glances over at his co-pilot. “For everything there is always a first time. Nice job, Eve.”
“Thanks Colonel,” MacAuliffe appreciatively acknowledges, exhaling a breath. She allows a prideful grin, her soft complexion rosy.
Coordinating preliminary ground surveys from the command module, Adams and Tereshkova examine the orbital reconnaissance images and sensor readings taken prior to landing. Outside, a pair of opaque moons peak from behind distant mountains as a bright reddish-orange sun ascends the southern sky. In a serenely composed trinity, they govern over the planet. Meanwhile, calm winds pass over lush green fields, as benign, interspersed groves mark a route to a sprawling tree line on the far horizon.
Abruptly, an indicator sounds on the communications array. Her typical demure voice stammering, Baudry emphatically calls over the holocom.
“C-Colonel Adams, Baudry. O-Over.”
Adams presses the array’s speaker button. “Sally? Are you okay?”
“Uh, y-yes sir. I mean, I d-don’t know sir.”
“What’s wrong? Did you find something?” Adams transmits back, concern evident on his dark brow. “Having trouble locking onto your location with visuals, getting interference on the holocom.”
“Th-Think you better come see for yourself, sir. You won’t believe me otherwise.”
“Copy that,” he responds, his gray eyes wide with stunned anticipation. Immediately, he signals the others. “Eve, Neil, meet us at Sally’s location.”
Converging on Baudry’s position moments later, all five stare in disbelief.
“You’re right, I wouldn’t have believed you,” Adams offers.
“Surveys and scans indicated no structures on this planet,” Sheppard asserts, shaking his head.
“No indications of civilization whatsoever,” Adams replies. He looks around at the group, resolute in his expression. “Let’s move in, cautiously. Watch for anything suspicious.”
“Already ahead of you on that one, Frank,” MacAuliffe sarcastically replies.
The group slowly approaches the previously undetected building now standing before them, its shiny white sandstone appearance that of any common civic building. Tereshkova scans the exterior, as it simmers and glistens in the sunlight. Reaching the main entrance, Adams and Sheppard push against heavy wooden doors. Breaching the doorway, they enter an expansive room extending outward and upward in an endless vaulted ceiling.
All of them gasp in awe.
“H-How is that possible? Doesn’t look this big from outside,” Sheppard exclaims.
Bookcases and aged tomes fill the interior, lined by viewing tables and reading benches. Planters containing fresh mixtures of botanicals enhance the otherwise sterile setting, pristine rugs placed throughout seemingly uncontaminated by use.
“Don’t know. Seems to be a library though,” MacAuliffe states, disoriented by the towering shelves. She sniffs the fragrant scent given off by the plants.
“Smells divinely.”
Adams examines titles on the nearest shelf: Chronicles of a Martian Homeworld; The Simian Planet: An Evolutionary Guidebook; Lost Worlds & Other Space Odysseys.
“No doubt, an extraordinarily astronomical one,” he captivatingly replies, equally appreciating the aroma. “In more ways than one.”
As if from out of nowhere, a hunched, older gentleman steps through the doorway.
Alarmed, the group stops shortly with a collective breathless pause.
Approaching closer, the old man grins expectancy. “Hello, welcome. Welcome.”
Dispelling his initial shock, Adams shifts instantly into official mode. He raises his right hand in a gesture of goodwill, coolly speaking in his weighty baritone.
“I am Colonel Frank Adams of United Earth. We are explorers, meaning you no harm.”
Not knowing whether there is comprehension, he points to the others. The old man keenly searches their faces.
“These are Commanders Evelyn MacAuliffe and Neil Sheppard, and specialists Sally Baudry and Yuri Tereshkova. We are members of Earth’s Manned Extra-Solar Expedition, here on a peaceful mission of exploration.”
The old man claps his hands together, enthused by the introductions.
“Wonderful, wonderful. I myself have had many names on your world.”
Sheppard interrupts, bewildered by his statement. “Our world? You-You know of our world?”
“Oh, yes my son, quite well. Yahweh, Jehovah, Allah, even the creator-god Phanes once. I have been them all. For ease, you may call me Joe.”
The crew stares back in unassuming astonishment. As Baudry faints, Tereshkova reacts quickly to catch her.
Adams summons his wits, lending voice to their uncertainty.
“Yahweh? Allah? As in, ‘God’?”
“I’m sure you have many questions, Colonel, which I shall endeavor to answer. As it is, you are in the Phusisian Gardens on Eros Prime. Imagine you know it by another name – Eden.”
Again, his straightforward disclosure stuns them into momentary silence.
“Wh-What did you just say?” asks Sheppard, stumbling over the words.
“Eden?” asks Colonel Adams, similarly taken aback.
“Indeed. I live just over the Ourean Mountains to the north, in Ouranos.”
The old man shuffles over to the shelves, peering through squinted eyes.
“Now where did I put that book?” he questions. “Had hoped to have it out before your arrival.”
Still reeling, MacAuliffe’s eyes widen further in amazement. “Book? You use these?”
The old man turns around smiling. “Of course I do, dear. Feels more permanent writing in a book.”
“You write as well?” she asks, incredulous having grown up in a world that no longer utilizes such conventions.
“Well, it’s really just an illusion. The memory core simply records my thoughts as I write, but I like the feeling of putting pen to paper. Makes it tangible, know what I mean?”
“Uh, sure,” she replies, turning away. She whispers to Adams. “Guess that changes the concept of omniscience. He has things remembering stuff for him just like the rest of us.”
Adams whispers back. “Or maybe he just knows more, if he is who he claims. Anything on the scanner, Misha?”
“Some fluctuation in background frequency and radiation levels,” Tereshkova replies, “but otherwise normal. Nothing anomalous.”
“Could the fluctuations be causing a sort of shared hallucination or otherwise interfering with normal brainwave activity?”
“Possibly, but more data is needed.”
“Keep scanning.”
Ignoring their conversation, the old man continues searching the stacks. Spying the intended item, he gently pulls it off the shelf.
“Ah, here it is.”
As he sets the large tome on a nearby table, the group cautiously draws near. They look over his shoulder.
“‘Experiment in Terra’,” Adams reads aloud. “Earth? Experiment?”
Joe looks up at him. “Very good, Colonel. This is my journal. Honestly, I thought that asteroid would obliterate all life on the planet, but the more resilient species adapted and survived. A refreshing outcome, to which I subsequently invested more energy into its continued development. For a time, anyway.”
MacAuliffe interjects. “Wait a minute. So, presumably, you created and later allowed Earth and all life on it to be decimated? With no further intention toward it, including humanity, until after the fact?”
“From a certain perspective it would seem that way, Commander. However, it did lead to the eventual evolution of life as it now stands, did it not?”
He leans back, raising an eyebrow. “Perhaps that was the intention of the experiment in the first place? Part of the divine plan?”
“Of course, the ‘divine plan’,” she replies with unease.
His interest piqued, Adams continues the inquiry. “You said ‘for a time’, meaning you stopped at some point?”
“Well, Colonel, the universe is a big place. Believing humanity would eventually destroy itself whether I intervened or not, I concentrated on other projects,” Joe states, matter-of-factly resigned. “Besides, for the last few millennia, no one seemed to be listening anyway. I considered it yet another failing, creating plagues and disasters to oblige its fate.”
He eagerly smiles, pumping a fist in cheer. “Yet here you are, still the ever resilient creatures.”
“Yes, here we are,” MacAuliffe exasperatingly states, running a hand through her cropped red hair and down her neck. “If you’ll pardon me, it all seems a bit cold and cavalier.”
Adams shoots her a stern look. “Easy Commander.”
“Sorry, sir. My pious upbringing still scars me.”
Unaffected, Joe calmly reassures them both. “Oh, it’s okay Colonel. If you can’t question God, who can you trust for the answers?”
“So, is this your natural form?” Adams continues, casually changing the subject. “Are you indigenous to this planet?”
“From your perception, yes.”
“Our perception? Are you saying we are seeing what we want to see?”
“God makes man in his image,” MacAuliffe interjects, “and man remakes God in his.”
Joe turns to her. “In a way, that would be a suitable understanding, Commander. But all life is a matter of perception. What is seen by one is not necessarily true for another.”
Tereshkova approaches Adams, whispering in his ear. “Sir, I believe I have an explanation for the fluctuations.”
Adams turns, quietly motioning him down a nearby aisle. “You found something?”
“The readings indicate pure light emanating from this entire structure, including the individual before us.”
“Pure light?”
“Possible Sally triggered some sort of holographic system when she approached. Simply put, all of this appears to be nothing more than a highly sophisticated hologram. But, it’s like nothing we’ve ever encountered or otherwise produced on Earth.”
“Maybe some kind of security system. Like a sentry at a holding station or outpost.”
“Perhaps.”
Adams contemplates the old man conversing with MacAuliffe.
“Or perhaps He is made of nothing more than that, and revealed Himself to us.”
Misha smiles. “Of course, sir. But I’ll need the ship’s computers to further analyze these readings.”
Looking at Baudry, Adams calls Sheppard over to them. “Sally still looks a little pale. Take her back to the ship, scan for any other anomalies or anything that could be a power source. Neil, radio Central Command and inform them of the situation.”
The two acknowledge affirmatively.
“And what are you two going to do?” Sheppard asks.
Adams hesitantly looks at him. “Attempt to discern our host’s intentions and purpose.”
Sheppard offers him a salute. “Watch your step, Colonel.”
The three exit the structure and head in the direction of the spacecraft. Tereshkova, taking a last reading with his handheld scanner, suddenly stops.
“Commander!” he blurts out, his eyes wide.
Sheppard, along with a still overwhelmed Baudry, turns toward him. His jaw drops, as he stares at nothing. “Where did it go?”
“I don’t know Commander,” Tereshkova confesses. “As soon as we exited, it simply disappeared.”
“Try hailing the Colonel,” he anxiously orders.
Tereshkova tries numerous hails and frequencies, without success.
“Nothing but static, sir. Either a dampening field, or-”
“Or they’ve disappeared, along with our presumably eternal host,” Baudry discouragingly proclaims, cutting him off.
Sheppard stares in agreeing disbelief. “Keep trying the hail, Misha. Let’s get back to the ship. Maybe its sensors will have something more to tell us.”
Tereshkova and Baudry acknowledge, falling in step behind him.
Meanwhile, Colonel Adams and Commander MacAuliffe continue their dialogue with “Joe.” From the routine to the philosophical, the two converse and interrogate as they explore various tomes pulled from the shelves.
Though humble, Joe is only actively forthcoming as necessitated by the question asked.
“You said you hoped to have this out before we arrived?” Adams asks, tapping Experiment in Terra with his left forefinger. “Then you knew we were coming?”
“Of course, when your spacecraft breeched the outer rim of the system,” Joe answers, examining a flower picked from a vase.
“So you sensed us?”
“More like alerted of your presence. By tracking sensors.”
“You weren’t aware of us at any time before our approach?”
“Not in the way that you mean, Colonel.” He continues analyzing the flower. “Is the flower aware of the bee that visits, as much as the wind that sways?”
“That depends,” MacAuliffe answers. “Are we the bee, or are we the wind?”
Casually sitting on a nearby bench, Joe enthusiastically grins. “You assume, of course, I’m the flower. Tell me, Colonel, why did you become an astronaut, an explorer?”
Adams shrugs his shoulders, thinking for a second. “Suppose I always had an interest in the spatial relationships that exist in the universe. I wanted to explore and experience them first hand.”
“That drew you to pursue a career that allowed for such?” Joe prods, smirking knowingly.
“Perhaps you should tell us,” Adams offers, likewise posturing.
“Your younger brother, James, would search the night sky with his telescope, did he not? It was not you who wanted to be an astronaut, but him.”
Adams smiles, reflecting back on his childhood. “Our parents were very encouraging. I remember our mother saying that Jim probably knew more about the universe than-”
He breaks off, taking a moment to contemplate with whom he is talking.
“Than the Creator himself,” he finishes.
“When he was twelve years old, however, he suffered a debilitating seizure caused by an undiagnosed heart condition that made it an impossibility. He barely used his telescope thereafter, until another seizure took his life a few months later. As a personal tribute to him, you put aside your dream of being an architect, went to the Academy and signed on with the space program when the opportunity arose.”
Unfazed, Adams skeptically agrees. “That is how the story goes, yes. I simply adopted my brother’s view of the universe as my own.”
“Indeed, you selflessly sacrificed your vision in order to honor another.”
Adams stares pleasantly solemn, as Joe turns to MacAuliffe.
“Yours is a different story,” he states, rousingly intrigued.
“This should be interesting,” MacAuliffe retorts, chagrined.
“You have not always been a pilot?” he asks.
“That’s correct. For five years, I was in the Infantry Defense Force. My father retired a major, and I followed in his footsteps after the Academy,” MacAuliffe relates. “Eventually, I requested transfer to Flight Command, and eight years later made it into the deep space exploration program. And now, here I am.”
“But you had wanted to attend Flight Command since childhood. And in spite of your father’s discouragements, the only real problem that held you back was your fear of flying.”
MacAuliffe looks up, admittedly laughing. “Yeah, whoever heard of a pilot who fears flying?”
Joe continues. “You had just taken part in an unsuccessful hostage rescue mission on the Martian colony. Most in your team were either fatally or severely wounded. For both surviving relatively unscathed and for not acting further based on your instinct concerning a crucial point in the mission, you blamed yourself for it.”
Unperturbed, MacAuliffe adds her commentary. “The commanding officer disagreed with my recommendation to reinforce our extraction route with a few aerial drone fighters, given local intel we received while inserting into the hotspot. She feared having them on standby would alert the terrorists. In my opinion, it wouldn’t have taken anything from the objective, but I balked at pressing the matter with her refusal.”
“And as you feared, the intel was legitimate as you faced a counterattack while being transported out. Both pilots of your transport killed, you, despite your reservations, and Corporal Armstrong took the controls and piloted the ship to safety. You requested transfer to Flight Command soon after returning to Earth, overcoming your fears in the face of them and believing in yourself to do what was necessary when the time depended on it.”
MacAuliffe lets a guarded smile show. Meanwhile, Colonel Adams voices his doubt.
“You could’ve probed our minds. Learned of our backgrounds, our thoughts.”
“That is true,” Joe acknowledges. “There is always the question of how one is to truly know, and more importantly, how to recognize the genuine from the false.”
Adams looks at MacAuliffe, contemplating her story. “I suppose, in the end, it’s a leap of faith.”
As the glow of the illuminating lanterns gradually dim, the conversation soon follows.
“Unfortunately, I believe our time has run out,” Joe states, regrettably weary. Nonetheless, he effortlessly lifts himself to stand. “You had better be getting back to your ship before it leaves without you.”
“Leave?” Adams questions, puzzled by the statement. He looks at the holocommunicator on his wrist. “But it’s only been six hours. We’re not scheduled to depart the planet for another six months.”
“It has been six months, Colonel.”
As Adams stares in disorientated wonder, MacAuliffe contemplates the startling pronouncement aloud. “‘One day with the Lord is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.’”
Adams turns to her, having not heard. “What was that?”
“The ‘Second Epistle of Peter’,” she answers, continuing her thought. “Again, it’s perception. Theoretically, minutes, hours and even days could be, or at least seem like, months and years to any ordinary being under applicable conditions, and vice-versa.”
She looks at Joe. “But for an assumingly omnipresent being, the passage of time under those terms would have no relevance. It would be too constraining.”
“Interesting. Such a disparity would explain the incongruity between literal and figurative interpretation,” Adams offers.
Agreeing, MacAuliffe continues. “How can God create the universe in six days, and rest on the seventh? Literally and figuratively speaking, it’s all relative.”
Joe nods his head. “Indeed, Commander. Indeed.”
Contemplating that idea, the trio makes their way outside and start down a path not evident earlier. The quickness of the journey unnoticed, they are promptly within sight of the spacecraft.
As Commander Sheppard steps from the ship, surprised by their sudden appearance, Colonel Adams makes a last plea.
“We’ve barely begun. There are still many questions to explore,” Adams insists, offering an alternative. “At least, return with us.”
Joe thinks for a second. “Yes, I do see your point. Yet, what then would be the purpose?”
“The purpose? The purpose of what?”
“The purpose of a man, the purpose of life itself. Knowledge of my true existence, as you desire, could conceivably put an end to that purpose.”
“But definitive proof of your existence would forever change the course of humanity. It would simply drive us further with our purpose, giving our lives an even greater meaning.”
Speechless, Sheppard comes upon the group in near shock. Firmly hugging MacAuliffe, his zeal practically breaks her in half.
“Wh-Where have you two been? We held out hope, but Central Command wrote you off as lost months ago.”
“More like found, Neil,” MacAuliffe replies, embracing him further. “Let’s get back to the ship. The Colonel and I will explain everything.”
As the two make their way, Joe continues his conversation with Adams.
“My son, you already have that drive, that meaning. It’s the very reason you stand before me now.” He extends his hand. “Give me your hand, Colonel.”
Maintaining his uncertainty, Adams nonetheless takes the offering.
“Do you know what this is?” Joe asks.
“A handshake?” Adams perplexingly replies.
“It is the most important thing in the universe. It is understanding, compassion and, ultimately, purpose.”
Adams nods his head in agreement, comprehending the analogy.
Joe continues. “The true human endeavor is not some external guiding entity to be sought after and venerated as if the ultimate end. You do not need me to give your lives purpose or meaning, which you already have. The proof you seek is inside each of you, and all you need is each other. Take care of yourselves, and you will take care of each other. That is what has truly driven humanity from the beginning.”
Sliding his hand away, Joe turns back down the path from which they came. Walking a slight distance, he calls back to Adams. “And Colonel?”
“Yes?”
“It is also a handshake,” Joe says, his voice a soft whisper.
Adams turns away, grinning. He looks back down the path, with no sign of the old man or the structure. Looking around in enlightened amazement, he takes in the now-deserted paradise.
After a moment of tranquil solace, he enters the spacecraft for the journey back home – to Earth.
©2008 Steve Sagarra
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