Canaan

by David Salvi

  Rob II said, “We are in the center now, traveling through the alternative dimension.”

  Moments after hearing it, the passengers saw beams of light crack across the spectrum of the pathway in every direction, condensing two spots of epic distances to a close jaunt across the galaxy.

  “Is she going to hold together?” Chris asked over comms.

  Rob II assured him there was nothing wrong with the ship. But the sensors were array, and he could not account for everything.

  “Also, if something were really wrong, you’d be dead,” Rob II said.

  “Thanks, Rob.” No thumbs up this time.

  The force of the gravity, though, pulled everything forward, straining the passengers at the belt lines. It yanked at the life force within you, like a divine intervention on your soul for an escape. The cosmic force whipped their eyes backward and into a daze, some passing out and submitting to its powerful will.

  Like dying, they felt helpless.

  Until it didn’t kill them.

  In a halt, Aurora was spit out of the other side of the wormhole. The shaking ceased. The sensors blinked normal again. Rob II assured them Aurora operated well. He engaged the thrusters and continued course.

  With the chaotic scene gone, the captain and his passengers regained their coherence. Chris realized where they were. In the distance, he saw a bright yellow star.

  “There it is.”

  Peeking through one eye, praying to be in one piece, Lavik asked, “What?”

  “The Sun. We made it.”

  The passengers erupted in laughter and cheers. At least the ones who were conscious did. Even Lavik celebrated with his compatriots.

  They had arrived.

  Not moments after, a static message came into their comms. Rob II routed it to the command deck for a link up.

  A scratchy, grizzled voice reverberated through the hull.

  “We’ve spotted you on our scanners. Spacecraft, identify yourself. Repeat. Spacecraft identify yourself.”

  Chris unbuckled his harness, errantly floating in zero gravity. Stars showed up in front of his eyes, and he blinked to regain his vision. He found the comms console in front of the captain’s chair. Rob II could have patched into his helmet comms, but it saw Chris get up out of his seat.

  Chris reached his hand out toward the comms mic, a black square device with a button to activate. Inches away, his hand paused. He heard the voice over the speaker again. It was an eerily familiar voice.

  “Spacecraft, identify yourself.”

  Then he snatched the comms mic. It clicked and extended to Chris’s mouth with a furled wire inserted into the console.

  “Hello. This is the captain of the Aurora speaking.”

  “You’ve made quite the trip, Aurora.”

  “We are glad to have made it to the other side.”

  “Only the third in history. Welcome to the Sun’s solar system. Or as we call it, home sweet home. We will need you to identify your captain and crew. Speaking is Captain Menas of the Interceptor.”

  The comms crackled at the end of the transmission.

  All eyes shot up at Chris. Nothing but silence filled the hull of Aurora. It was space after all. He stared at the floor with pensive eyes. He started to nibble at the inside of his mouth as his lips quivered. His eyes then went to the mic, wondering what to say.

  Breaking the moment, Riley unstrapped herself and removed her helmet. She moved toward Chris and put her hand on his shoulder with a warm smile.

  “Chris.”

  His trance was lifted and he said, “Yeah?”

  “That’s him.”

  Dad. His voice was now real, much like Chris’s in depth and tone.

  Riley said, “He sounds like you.” Another warm smile that Chris needed. She then urged Chris to answer.

  “This is Captain Menas of the Aurora.”

  The comms must have been open on the Interceptor because a blast of chatter cranked through Aurora’s speakers. Gasps and ahs and gahs, then cheers and congratulations.

  In a calm voice, Jason Menas spoke into his microphone to say clearly, “Welcome home, son.”

  Aurora had their turn of hurrahs in their command deck. Chris and Riley hugged. Lavik soon joined them with a mammoth hug of his own, gripping the two in his thick arms and guffawing like a child, but with a giant’s voice.

  Much of the elation was also relief. The difficult part of the journey was over. And they weren’t dead.

  After a few minutes of light celebration, Chris left the command deck to the living quarters. He was alone.

  “Rob.”

  “Yes, Christopher?”

  “You knew, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. I knew.”

  “And you never told the Arch Canaanites?”

  “I did not.”

  “And Brody.”

  “I calculated that telling Brody that your father successfully traversed through the wormhole would put him at risk given the pattern of Arch Canaanite behavior. They were more likely to continue the endeavor given a success, thus enslaving Brody to their imperialism.”

  “Right.” Chris accepted the answer.

  As if to further justify its reasoning, Rob II explained, “Sometimes it’s better for people not to know something.”

  “Interesting calculation.”

  “It was the right thing to do.”

  CHAPTER 29

  EARTH

  A BRIGHT BLUE ORB, resembling their former home, came into view. A crescent shadow covered part of its left half. The Sun, to their right, illuminated an ocean and green and tan land while streaks of white clouds, just like on Canaan, stretched across the surface in exotic shapes.

  Earth.

  They had travelled the past three days, finding the orb growing by the day.

  Most times, the passengers of the Aurora pressed their faces against the viewing glass. Their breath fogged the surface. They made remarks about how beautiful it was, and how it felt oddly familiar.

  “What’s that gray thing with holes?” one of the little girls asked.

  Rob II answered, “That is the Earth’s moon.”

  “They don’t have three?”

  “Every planetary system is different.”

  She accepted the answer.

  Chris huddled in the corner by himself though. Not gawking or obsessing over what he saw, but putting words to paper with a pencil as he normally did. He sketched rudimentary pictures of Earth in the corner of his pages as well. Each looked a bit different with varying plots of land, illustrating the vast land masses of Earth’s livable world.

  But here he was, only a bit farther from his ultimate destination.

  Until they had to use the bathroom, eat, or get a wink or two, the passengers were spectators to this grand adventure Chris led them on.

  Chris’s father tried to have a conversation with him from Interceptor, but Chris insisted on waiting until they on the ground. His father agreed.

  Now they were ready though.

  In front of Aurora was Interceptor, leading the way for entry to Earth. Unlike Aurora, Interceptor is more of a space station than a singular spacecraft. The long, silver space station had several solar wings for power, and spinning living quarters for artificial gravity. Crevices and nooks completed its futuristic design, much like the science fiction movies Chris glanced at in the Library.

  Rob II communicated with Interceptor’s computer for coordinates. Angle and speed determined success and failure. When they approached their barrier point, Rob II instructed the passengers to put on their flight gear. Again they did, helping each other with their bulky suits. Then back into their seats, strapped and secure.

  Earth now swallowed the whole of the viewing area. That’s when Aurora rotated to an upside down and perpendicular flight pattern over Earth.

  “All right, Aurora, we are jettisoning our landing craft now. See you on the ground.”

  A moment later, a flush of air came from the Interceptor’s belly.
A small, metal object shot forth and plummeted toward Earth. Rounded at the corners, the craft resembled a space probe with antennas. From what the passengers on Aurora could see, it burned bright red after several seconds, and then was out of sight.

  Rob II reported over the speakers, “We are landing over what was Quebec, Canada according to our last known mapping systems. To the east is the Atlantic Ocean. It is half the surface area of the Ocean of Antiquity.”

  “How does this lady land?” Riley asked.

  Instead of answering, Rob II thrust the ship backward. Fins retracted on the exterior of the hull. A few small thrusts readied the ship.

  “Using Earth’s gravity for initial landing,” Rob II reported. “Then the primary and secondary landing thrusters. The auxiliary landing thrusters for trajectory.

  Rob II explained that the force of gravity pulled Aurora and the passengers into their seats. From there, the ship used thrusters to balance...and avoid total free fall.

  That’s when elation and excitement morphed to fear.

  Once again the manic vibrations in the hull of the ship shook everyone to their cores. Their tongues were yanked to the back of their throats. The bottom of their heads pressed into the helmets, feeling like it would break through. The only reason they couldn’t scream in terror was because the force had taken their breath away.

  Down and down Aurora went.

  Faster and faster.

  Streams of sweat cascaded down the passengers heads, giving them a salty awakening in their mouths at the moment. A burning sensation rose from their feet and into their backs like a furious fire pit on Motus Island was behind them and under them. Everything felt hot.

  In the viewing area, fire and smoke shot out into the atmosphere.

  Rob II announced over the speakers, but only Chris and Riley heard. “Engaging primary engine thrusters.”

  The vibrations went to a rumbling, shaking consoles and compartments. To the passengers, it was a blurry mess of lights and buttons they never understood, and now could barely tell were real anymore.

  But the ship decelerated.

  The ships fins and boosters leveled out the craft.

  “Make it stop!” Lavik yelled into his comm. Something loud enough to hear. “It feels like I have to pee!” The yell turned into a shrieking scream.

  Another jolt.

  “Secondary engine thrusters engaged.”

  The ship decelerated again. A crashing vibration to the hull. Something sounded like it broke. A red alarm blared throughout the cabin, sending a shrieking sound into the passenger comms. They winced and shook their heads erratically.

  “What happened, Rob?” Chris asked in a stoic stare.

  “Hull breach.” was reported. “It disabled one of the landing gears.”

  “Can we land?”

  “Not like we wanted.”

  Come on, baby, hold together. Chris thought.

  Riley, seated to Chris’s right, reached her hand out. Lavik, Brody, and the other passengers followed suit. They locked their hands underneath the restraints and held tight with what grip the gloves would give them.

  “Landing mechanisms open. Final engine thrust in…three, two, one.”

  Another blast fired and the ship came to a near halt in a few seconds. Ahead in the viewing area, a blue sky with white clouds was available. A line of black smoke stretched into the sky.

  Clanking at the bottom of the ship put them off balance. Aurora had touched ground, but her angle was off.

  Rob II said, “Hang on tight. This may hurt a little bit.”

  With a landing gear missing, Aurora leaned toward the void. Once the engine died, passengers heard creaking metal, as if bending. They felt the ship start to fall on its side, tilting the passengers upside down.

  BOOM! Down went the hull. Part of the interior crashed and caved in. They released their arms like breaking a fall, but the ship’s side held.

  “Not exactly how Oscar drew it up,” Chris said over the comms.

  “No, not exactly.” Rob II said.

  One by one, starting with Chris, the passengers unbuckled and lowered themselves to the ground. The children wobbled a bit, finding their legs weaker than they remembered. The old men fell to the ground. Lavik rushed to his feet, but swayed until he vomited in the corner.

  Chris’s legs were stable. He moved about the cabin, ducking around the seats and other consoles. He found the opening hatch.

  “Opening hatch,” Rob II said.

  A thrust of air sprayed from the edges of the door. Chris pushed the door forward and felt the heat of the sun on his hand. A fresh quaff of air, one he had smelled, entered his lungs. Air pressure made his ears pop. He paused in the doorway and took another breath while closing his eyes.

  Riley, right behind him, smacked him on the butt. They laughed and walked out to feel the full beauty of the Sun’s rays.

  “Let’s go, captain,” she said.

  Around them were trees with wide yellow, orange, and red leaves. Chris recognized some of the vegetation from his studies in the Library.

  He said, “Maple tree. I think.”

  “Look at the colors,” Riley said. “Beautiful.”

  The passengers strolled around with their heads tilting between the sky and the ground. Some picked up pieces of grass and dirt and smelled it. The children and women ran to a tree and felt the bark while listening to chirping birds among the branches. These little critters were yellow and green with tiny beaks. They’d never seen these creatures before, except for in books at the Library.

  The old men wandered around until they found a stream. The sound of rushing water made them smile at each other. They threw a few rocks in and chatted.

  “My, what are the chances?” the old man asked the other. “Two planets. Just for us?”

  “More out there, you think?” the other said.

  “Maybe. Who knows?”

  “Well, I’m sure we will know someday.”

  “Someday.

  “Someday.”

  “How about we enjoy this right now?” the old man said.

  “Good idea,” his friend said.

  Lavik came out of the hull of Aurora with two things in hand. One, Rob II, was the headset. Two, Chris’s knapsack, which had a few extra scuffs from rolling around in storage.

  “Sir Christopher! Your things!” Lavik exclaimed.

  Chris took both in hand, but asked Riley to take Rob II, which she gladly obliged.

  When Chris looked at his knapsack, he rubbed his hand across the top. He choked up and swallowed a lump in his throat to manage the feeling. The pack he had carried from his apartment on Canaan to across the galaxy had stuck by him as a loyal friend. Though the knapsack had no choice in the matter, its sturdy exterior and stubborn resilience in the face of all they had experienced meant the knapsack was willing to take the hits Chris was willing to take. Its scuffs and marks were the scars of its life reflecting back on what Chris had to do to get to this point. Sacrifice through fear, and accomplishment through loss.

  In that moment, he wondered what was going on on Canaan.

  Before he could wonder much longer, a group of people approached their ship. There were several of them, Chris counted seven, led by a man that looked almost identical Chris, but with withering gray hair on a receded hairline. Same strong nose and brow with a narrow chin.

  “Christopher!” Jason Menas said.

  “Dad,” Chris whispered to himself. He froze.

  Jason started to run. He wore a green jumpsuit with emblems on the breast, but Chris did not recognize them. His hair was streaked back and damp.

  When he approached Chris, the man slowed down, but his walk was determined. He had a smile from ear to ear.

  Chris again said, “Dad.” This time aloud.

  “Son!”

  They embraced, and Chris broke down in tears. They fell to their knees and consoled each other.

  “Mom…”

  “Didn’t make it,” Jason said. He st
oically accepted the fact by stating it before he heard it for real from Chris, as if to protect his son from sharing the sad news. He felt a lump in his throat and fought it off. His tear ducts were another story. His eyes went glossy. Part of it for his wife. Mostly for seeing his son sad.

  “No, I’m sorry.” The feeling erupted another rush of tears he tried to fight back with his fist on his mouth to no avail.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s not your fault,” Jason said.

  “I should have protected her.”

  “There was nothing you could do. You’re here now. It’s time to build a new life.”

  After a moment, Jason looked down to see a familiar object—a brown, leather knapsack, though a bit more worn than he remembered.

  Jason said, “Oh my gosh, my knapsack.” His eyes lit up as he picked it up to analyze its shape and took a sniff of its surface. Hearty, earthy, and real.

  “Here.” Chris held the knapsack toward his father, but Jason refused.

  “No, this is yours now. You earned it.”

  Jason motioned for the group to follow him. Several miles walk back to the city. He said they could ask any questions. To that there were many.

  Clutching his knapsack, Chris swung his body around to face Aurora before leaving her.

  Would this be the last time he saw her?

  “Go ahead, I’ll catch up,” Chris told Riley.

  She nodded and turned with the group. Though she stopped for a moment and turned her body to find Chris slowly approaching Aurora.

  He scanned the damaged hull, putting his hand on it with a smile.

  Ouch! The hull was still hot from entering the atmosphere. He shook and rubbed his hand on his pants to alleviate the heat.

  “Dented, beaten, nearly burned. Four light-years passing through another dimension. Our lady through the galaxy. You gave everything you had to us. Thank you,” Chris said to the ship. He paced a little, looking at the ground, glancing at the streaks of black and cracked paint in the hull. Then he looked to the sky. He spoke again, “Thanks for looking out for me, Mom. I miss you.”

  A tear streaked down his eye.

  ***

  Aurora’s welcome party led them back to a city, one of several cities left on Earth as they explained to the newcomers.