From Whence They Came

by Thomas Zman

  He again used his pointer in the cosmic diorama, highlighting rudiments of his lesson to the audience; the gridded, curving space around the black hole.

  “We are fast approaching this black hole, or portal as we have come to call it, which helps to explain the anomaly of Pluto’s orbit.” Burl’s graphics changed into a funnel, tube-like tunnel, linking two separate star systems. “We will skirt its outer edge, where space is bending, and increase our ship’s velocity to that of light. We will then be drawn into the black hole, into the vortex of time/space, and be ejected out the other side, into another part of the universe, hundreds of light-years away.” His cosmic diorama blinked white then an entirely new solar system appeared, as did a collective sigh of appreciation from the passengers.

  “Please step aside, to the outer railing if you will, while our ‘Galactic Leap Seats’ arise.” Burl waved his hand in a grasping swoop and the cosmic diorama dispersed with an electrical spark.

  Everyone moved from the center of the deck, which allowed room for several rows of seating to rise up from out of the floor and lock into position. We all then returned and took a seat; the hidden hand of gravity holding us secure.

  Dan seated himself next to me. Burl sat at the back of the group. The bridge’s shields were parted, giving us a clear view of space: it was odd in color; crimson from the distortion of light, as for our ship had increased its speed to just that. The stars took on a quality that made them appear to gyrate, just above the imperceptible; no illusion, they actually started to shift. Indeed, the universe was expanding as we, our milky way rotated on its axis. At this speed, the speed of light, our dimension, the relativity of it, was disrupted. We had become a flow of energy.

  In a blink everything went black. I was burdened with terrific weight. There was silence, and all matter seemed to maul at me as if it were tangible. My spirit was entwined within all the cosmos: all was of one mass. And as quick as the darkness came, stars again appeared – though not the same as those we had left behind. We drifted from the warp into a starred omneity of new constellations. They were again still, unmoving; we had entered the galaxy of alien origin.

  “Welcome to Czendora Six!” Burl stated from behind us. “This globular galaxy is one point five trillion light years from earth. To show you this unimaginable distance in a perspective manor, I ask your attention.” The portly man came around to the front of us where all could see him. He stood motionless a moment, concentrating: There began a haze, then a swirling mist quickly congealed into millions of tiny speckling’s. Densely packed at its bulbous center, its filamental arms fanning out and nearly touching those of us who watched in awe. Burl had materialized our Milky Way.

  With pointer in hand, he continued, “Our Sun lies here, this tiny dot of light. All the planets we visited, orbiting it.”

  The demonstration changed to several small galaxies spread throughout the deck and over our heads. He pointed to our milky way, and then walked to the furthest galaxy from it. “This is Andromeda, two point five million light years from earth. It can easily be seen in the night sky. As is evident, most of space is empty. Vast gulfs of nothingness span the great distances between galaxies, stars, and planets.”

  Again the phenomena changed. The room was brightly illuminated with Burl’s heavenly display. Hundreds of tiny speckling’s were spread about, each a galaxy. He pointed to our Milky Way and Andromeda in the center of the deck, inches apart. “The distances between these galaxies and those” –indicating the galaxies nearest the saucer’s hull – “is four point five one parsecs; roughly fifteen billion light years. If you will note, there are still quite distinguishable gaps between all these galaxies since they are dispersed according to scale. But we are now a hundred times more distant that even these galaxies here, and in order to show every galaxy between us, here now at Czendora Six and the Milky Way, the scale must be condensed.”

  The deck changed to a brilliancy of white lights. The light had form and everywhere we looked were galactic clusters packed together with diminutive spaces between them; fractions of inches representing millions of light years. Burl walked through the lights with arms open, as if some kind of cosmic guru. Light flickered off his omnipresent form and he appeared to have dominion over all which now lay at his fingertips.

  “We would have had to traverse through his many galaxies before reaching Czendora Six, a speck of light on the wall behind me. As for our Milky Way, it is lost somewhere on the opposite side of the bridge. As you can see for yourselves, travel across the universe is impractical even at the speed of light. That is why the use of black holes as short cuts is so important. They allow immediate passage to anywhere in the universe.”

  Burl snapped his fingers and the splendor vanished. There started up a resounding applause and Burl humbly absorbed the praise until all was once again quieted down. He then took up his position behind the passengers, narrating on the various constellations and other phenomena that came into view as we sped through the galaxy – our progression scarcely noticeable. It was a short while later that I realized we were slowing our speed, considerably. The windows on deck were adjustable in magnification and I could see they had zoomed in on an area of the galaxy where a small star, a dwarf the size of earth, appeared to be faintly glowing.

  The saucer approached this phenomenon cautiously, closing in ever so slowly – at about the speed of a conventional rocket. Then we stopped, and there we floated in the vacuum of space. The dwarf star loomed mesmerizingly ahead of us.

  Burl had stopped talking. All was quiet. Much to my surprise, and the passengers’ as well, the rows of seats suddenly parted down the middle, making way for an aisle. Many of the passengers turned their heads to see what was happening and soon there were whispers of interest. I looked at Dan inquiringly, but said nothing. Behind us, Viator had raised himself from the flight chair and started to make his way down the aisle. His steps were slow, carefully placed, and laden with effort. His ceremonious procession was spiritually leading him closer to the ancestral abode of his kind; a frequent pilgrimage made by all Phoebians.

  He reached the windows and stopped. Then, with intense concentration, he slowly raised his hands, palms forward, and laid them on the windows. There was a respectful silence about the deck. In his great mind, Viator and the spirits of his civilization temporarily reunited. This tribute to his ancestors’ not only given praise by Viator, but by all of us as well.

  While heading back through our own solar system, Dan, Burl and myself convened on the Observation Deck for an interlude of light conversation. After we had thoroughly discussed Viator’s observance, Burl though it interesting to catch up on own world’s events by listening to broadcasts making their way out from the Earth. So he gestured overhead and a console lowered from the ceiling. He touched in the appropriate data and soon the deck was filling with the sounds of earthly radio – the entire world’s transmissions at once. It was a jumble of noise, every international dialect intermixing with the other. It took some fine-tuning before he zeroed in on a frequency – the BBC.

  It was reported that all stations around the world had gone ‘twenty four hour news’; that there had been a series of cataclysmic events that happened in relative succession on a global scale. The worst of these events being a great earthquake in the western United States that severely damaged San Francisco and neighboring communities all along the San Andreas Fault. There were other quakes around the world, along all major fault lines, followed by great tidal waves, and even several eruptions from long dormant volcanoes.

  “Pray for their souls,” Dan sobered.

  “Amen,” said Burl.

  No one spoke after that; we all just stared out the windows. Those who walked on deck listened to the broadcasts and fell solemn like the rest of us; they too staring out the windows. The news spread quickly throughout the ship, but wasn’t openly talked about. The disasters weighed heavy on all minds. I was no exception. I thought of home, of my family, if they were safe from t
he disasters. I worried. I rationalistically thought of where we lived, virtually sheltered from any of these natural disasters. But I wasn’t sure. What could I do?

  It was sometime later that I found myself standing in Burl’s doorway.

  “Burl, I came to you because I feel you can help me.” I hadn’t even said my polite ‘hellos’ to Joanie, who had answered the door. I just let myself in. “Since the news from earth I can’t seem to get a grip on things. I can’t set myself at ease, worrying if my family is alright. I know there are plenty of others on board who must feel the same way. But – Well, since we’ll be back to the earth in a short while, I was wondering –“

  “I understand, Steve. Ensign Kurt is the person you should be talking to.”

  “ . . . Wasn’t there ever a twinkling of hope in you that when you first heard about your family’s tragedy that perhaps the report was wrong?” I asked the Ensign. “That your name had been mixed up with someone else’s? I realize we don’t even know each other, and I’m sorry to bring up such an unpleasant part of your past. I have no right in doing so. But I’m desperate! I feel it’s something I must do. I – “

  “Mr. Coleman,” the ensign interrupted coldly, “I never gave any further thought to my wife and little girl’s accident. And, you’re right, ‘we Don’t know each other’. I find it very weird how you come begging to me, a stranger, and knowing my personal business! How is that?”

  I felt like a fool, and he knew that.

  “It was something too horrible to dwell on,” he said. “I don’t dwell on bad things. I don’t expect anyone else to, either.” He stared beyond me. “We’re dropping off one passenger already. For the sake of your sanity, I’ll petition Viator as to your request.”

  * * * * * * * * * *

  We approached Earth once again. As we descended from the darkness of space into the brilliance of blue, large black clouds drifted across its surface. The cerulean pearl had begun to show flaws in its once impeccable luster.

  It was morning when an on-board shuttlecraft transported me from the saucer to an empty field, just blocks away from my home. The other passenger Ensign Kurt spoke of was Dan. We had earlier said our goodbyes; he being left off in in the mid-west, giving me a hug and wishing me all the best. Poor soul. God Bless him – his plight. Admittedly, I sobbed for the man, but quickly returned my thoughts to my family as I exited the craft and started my walk home. Before leaving the saucer two precautions had been taken: first, I had been fitted with a vest-device that rendered me invisible; second, I carried a small cartridge of nutrients in a respirator to occasionally revitalize myself. The nutrients, however, would last only a short length of time. If I did not rendezvous with the shuttlecraft back at the field, I would quickly die of starvation.

  The crimson dawn was just beginning to peak over the mountains. It was cool, but so refreshing the desert air – so nice to be back home in my neighborhood, which had added more houses and places of business. It felt glorious to support my own mass and walk the earth; no matter how alien I now was to it. Here and there started up a bird’s chirp as I made my way from the field to behind several new buildings. No one was around at this hour. It must have been Sunday. I was quite invisible to the human eye, I needed only to tread lightly and not scuff my feet -- for sounds I did produce. I took a long inhale from my nutrient cartridge for a jolt of nourishment. Several of these portions and I emptied the device, tossing it to the ground where it appeared and stood out oddly amidst some of the other trash that had accumulated there.

  When I got to my house I paused to let the many recollections of life I had had there rush from memory. I was overwhelmed with emotion. After a moments hesitation I snuck back around to the patio, where the kitchen was. Invisible was I. I was going to have a look inside; however, I momentarily lost the nerve to prop myself up to the window. I seemed distant from all this – as if it were suddenly a dream. Was I doing the right thing? Invading their privacy? I composed my thoughts and set out to settle my apprehensions; elevate my perspective on the matter.

  I secured a chair from the outdoor furniture set and brought it to a spot under the kitchen window. I stepped up and looked in.

  There was a man wearing an apron, standing at the stove, and cooking breakfast. The window was cracked open slightly and the smells coming off the stove were quite enticing. The television played beyond in the living room, rerunning accounts of the apocalyptic events worldwide. A familiar, yet stressed voice shouted out a list of commands through the house, the last of which I could plainly hear:

  “You put up coffee?”

  Apparently Jean had changed her style of living.

  The stranger at the stove answered by quickly filling the coffee maker with water, and spooning in the appropriate measurement of grinds. He plugged the pot in, then continued to nervously fumble through his preparation of breakfast.

  A boy, a young man, wearing a t-shirt and shorts, slumbered his way to the breakfast table. His hair was long and disheveled; his eyes wide and glazed over, seeming not to focus on anything. His hands trembled.

  “So, David how was the concert? Another late night?” The cook’s question laced with sarcasm.

  My son I thought – my beautiful child. What had become of him? Where is Sandra?

  “What kind of s--- is that?” my boy returned. “Didn’t you hear about the f ------ curfews? It’s martial law out there. Everything is cancelled. This sucks!”

  The youth pulled out an e-cig and drew long upon it, holding its contents deep in his lungs. He turned his attention to a phone on the table; he swiped and touched it screen. The device apparently not working as he liked.

  “David! Where’s your sister?”

  Jean came bounding into the kitchen. Her hair cut short and a mess. No longer had she the slim toned body she once flaunted; a series of tattoos and body piercings evident beneath the scant tattering’s she now wore. She too puffed from an e-cig. She was looking for something.

  “I don’t keep tabs on her,” answered the boy. “All I know is she was thinking crazy yesterday. Talking to her friends about heading east. Driving across the country to live on the beach with her ‘toes in the sand’. Is that f---- up or what?”

  “David!”

  Jean’s hands trembled. The cook was frying an omelet in the skillet; I saw that he, too was covered in tattoos from wearing just a t-shirt. He turned from the stove to comfort Jean, who pushed him away. “I need my phone!”

  “Service is sh--!” David called after her.

  “I have your coffee ready.”

  “Where did I leave that phone?” Jean said, frantically searching, lifting bottles of liquor and empty packages, boxes, papers lying around the kitchen.

  “Jean, honey,” the cook pouring her a cup. “I’m sure Sandra will be home as soon as things calm down around here. She just needs to find herself. Just needs – “

  “Shut up!”

  “Ma?“

  “Both of you just shut the f--- up!”

  I had seen enough. There was indeed something wrong at my house; my family that I didn’t even recognize. I wanted to bust through the window and grab Jean, shake some sense into her. My son. What has he become? No guidance, no respect. And where is my little girl? Off driving across country with who? And while all this is happening. Martial Law! I should be looking for her. Bring her home. I wanted to kill that spineless cook. What is he?

  But what chance have I got. (I began to temper my thoughts) Further disrupt their lives? I, my story, would horrify them. Suddenly showing up wearing these alien clothes. And then I would just wither and die in front of them. I’m starting to feel weaker already. How much longer could I last here in this now alien environment?

  I decided to make my way back to the field. The shuttle would pick me up just as the sun cleared the mountains, which was about now. The earth, my hometown, my family has changed so much. It seems I have been gone from them some ten years already. Ten years has come to pass. (I finally got
a fix on the time-line) Through my distressing thoughts, though there shined a light. I touched the pin I wore on my chest. I remembered the poem.

  When I returned aboard ship I spoke to no one. I sat in my cabin for the brief flight back to Neuphobes and thought. I was wondering where the Saucer had gone to during my departure, while I visited home. I never asked this question, but instead prayed.

  When finally we landed back in Neuphobes I saw Burl standing at the main hatchway, wishing farewell to the passengers. Ensign Kurt was there, too. I shook their hands, thanking them with all earnestness for helping me, and to Burl for his beautiful words while sharing the heavens.

  “Godspeed to you,” was all Burl said.

  No sooner had I stepped through the hatchway that I was grabbed and hugged by April. We held each other tightly as she smothered me in kisses. Through this greeting I managed a look at Ensign Kurt, who smiled. I smiled and laughed, for it was the most beautiful moment of my life. I loved April, and she loved me.

  “I missed you so much,” she said over and over. “It’s been long. Too, too long.”

  She cried tears of happiness.

  April was a wave of emotion; I too was choked up. She tried frantically to fill me in on all that had happened while I was away. Thank God I was home. My true home! Frank and Constance were some ways distant from us, and all the crowds, the disembarking passengers, and all the joyous reunions that took place on the platform. Upon reaching them both, through all the merriment involved with homecomings, it wasn’t long after that I proposed to April.