jsmithkirkland - Tumblr blog

jsmithkirkland · 7 months ago

Text

Journal of Aber Crombie

This is the first of a series. My first attempt at Sci Fi. This may be a little rough as I have not had an editor look at it yet, but when I complete all 4 parts, I will combine them, and get some editing.

Hope you enjoy it.

Comments are welcome; growing as a writer.

Journal of Aber Crombie

By J. Smith Kirkland

I still have not come to grasps with the giant sun in the red sky. Herbert says the sky is red because the sun is a red dwarf. And the sun is huge because the habitable zone around a red dwarf is much closer to the sun than what I am used to. That's what Herbert tells me anyway. And that's the reason it is so much colder here than I am used to. There are a lot of things here I am not used to.

Herbert says it is good for us to keep a routine. So, we went to the greenhouse this morning. Like every morning. The automation control for the microbe system can get off schedule, and we have to adjust it manually sometime. I'm glad Herbert is smart and knows all this stuff. He reminds me of my dad. But as long as the system works all the plants seem to do fine. I think Herbert just likes to walk around in there. The green plants are a nice contrast to the dry cracked ground outside. And as much as I would hate to admit it to Herbert, it is nice to have some sort of routine. I used to think it would be great to have no responsibilities, nothing that had to be done. But after having nothing that has to be done all day for 23 days, I need some sort of routine, or I think I might go mad.

After breakfast in the green house, we pick a direction on the compass, one we have not used before, and start walking in that direction. We're looking for new things. A type of rock we have not seen before, a soil anomaly, signs of a creature. We have seen no signs of creatures at all. Not even with the microbe detector. Of course, the literature all says there is no life on this planet other than what the transport company has brought to the way station, but Herbert says people that believe everything a company tells them will never discover anything new. And honestly, the people at the company were the ones that told us we would only be here for two days before the next ship arrived. So, we go looking for new things.

We only walk for 8 kilometer before we turn to go back. The days are short here, and you don't want to be outside when the red sun sets. I complain about the cold a lot. I grew up near an equator. I like it warm. Herbert promises the next stop will be warmer. It has a yellow sun. He says it has beaches like the ones on my home too. And people. He suspects I won't complain if we get stuck there for a month or two. I have never been to Earth, but he makes it sound nice. Though I am starting to wonder if we will ever get there. Herbert still talks as if the ship is on the way, but I am starting to think there may not be anymore ships.

Another part of our routine is that Herbert tries three times a day to contact someone on the travellers' kiosk. The kiosk is where we should get updates on arrival and departures, buy tickets, check weather at destinations, and if you can locate the link on the screen, contact customer service. He applies the same compass direction technique to the kiosk. He tries at three different times of day that he has not tried before. I understand the logic. He says the machine may work better at different times because of cosmic interference, or maybe the call centers have odd hours. But I don't have the same optimism that it will work. The day the transport didn't show up, I checked that the communication system was set up correctly. That's the one thing I know more about that Herbert. That's what I do. I've been installing interplanetary communication systems for two years now. I don't get all the science behind them, but I know how to trouble shoot them. I suspect we are not getting an answer because there is no one there to answer. The company is gone. Out of business. Destroyed in a storm. A war. I try not to let my imagination get too dark, but that's where it goes at times.

I don't know why they wouldn't contact us, but it is not because the system here is not working. I will remain hopeful however that someone will contact us eventually. That someone somewhere remembers we got off at this station. That someone somewhere will come looking for us. Someone from the company I work for maybe. You would think they noticed when I didn't show up for work for 23 days. Herbert talks about his friends and family a lot, but I am not sure they will be looking for him. He never said that, but I have noticed he always refers to them in past tense. He never talks about anyone that might be waiting for him. But then, I don't either.

Today we chose 323 degrees for our trek. My WristWear has a compass showing the cardinal directions and 360 degree graduations. As long as the communication satellites are working around any planet, it is extremely accurate. Herbert has an old physical nautical compass given to him by his grandfather, whose grandfather gave to him, and so forth. It shows magnetic north. It also has an inner circle with the 32-point compass rose corresponding to the 0 to 360 degree graduations. It's a pretty cool antique. We occasional compare the readings along our walks. They are always the same.

About 6 kilometers out, we have seen nothing interestingly different. Same types of rocks and dirt we had seen before. No signs of creatures. Not even microbes. But as I take a gulp from my water bottle, my eyes land on the horizon ahead of us. I stare at it for a few seconds before I asked Herbert if I am seeing a mirage. Herbert follows my gaze to the horizon, and says if it is a mirage, he is seeing it too. We are probably way more excited than we should be to see a hill, but 23 days. This planet so far has shown no indication of anything other than a flat elevation. Dried cracked dirt. No flowing water above ground. No hills. No craters. Smooth and flat. But there it is. Something sticking up on the horizon.

As we reach our 7km mark, it is becoming clear that what we are seeing is not a hill. There are geometric edges that do not look natural. There was no way to know how far this group of structures is away from us, or how tall they are, but they are there. It's not unusual for companies to put way stations in desert areas on planets, especially on planets where the indigenous people don't travel for one reason or another. But the literature is pretty clear that this planet has no life, much less people. As we reach the 8km mark, there is no doubt in our minds that these structures are buildings.

As much as we want to, we can't just keep walking towards the buildings. There is no way of knowing how far away they are, but it is certain that they are too far to get there and back to the way station before sunset. No, we can't go today. We have to go back and make a plan. See what provisions we have to prepare for an overnight trip. Figure out if that is even feasible. We have to turn back.

Neither of us is saying much on the trek back. But my mind is reeling with ideas of what the place could be, lists of what we will need to get there and back, why there was nothing in the travel literature about buildings, and most of all, will we find anyone living there. Considering that my imagination has already decided we are stranded here after some galaxical catastrophe, finding other living beings would be a relief. I hope.

The way station is still here. As is our note taped to the door informing the conductor of any arriving transport ship that we have been stranded here and will return before sunset, and requesting that they please wait for us. We will have to update that before we leave for the buildings. “If we are not back by sunset, Please send a search party to find us.”

Herbert is collecting provisions for our trip as I hack into every file on the kiosk system that I can find about this planet. Unfortunately access to extraplanetary databases is always hard to get on these remote way stations. It's bad enough that you only have old movies and video games, but there is no additional information on anything other than what the transport company thought you would need. Still, the system keeps data on travellers, ships, local provisions, local resources. I am hoping if I can get to some non published files I might find more data on the planet.

Herbert has broken into the office to look for emergency blankets and torches. He is looking for anything that might be a portable source for generating heat. I have just entered the password to get to the facility management files in the system. I would love to tell Herbert that I used my superb computer system skills to get there, but truth is I found the account name and password on a note stuck to the system interface in the office after he broke in. I guess if the account only gets used occasionally by a passing conductor, the easiest was to remember the login is to write it down.

I am at least hoping to find out about water supplies on the planet. We know the nights are cold, but how cold. If they even survivable. What I really want to find is planetary history. Not the stuff in the marketing info. Even if they don't want customers to know everything about a planet, I am sure they do a lot of research before building a way station. And it looks like this file called “Feasibility Study” might be a good place to start.

Planet name: Anarans B.

Moons: None.

Surface area: 55.91 million mi².

Troposphere: 78 percent nitrogen, 21 percent oxygen, 0.9 percent argon, and 0.1 percent other gases. Trace amounts of carbon dioxide, methane, water vapor, and neon are some of the other gases that make up the remaining 0.1 percent.

Radiation: 130 to 1,610 microsieverts

Hydrosphere: <1%

Aquifers: Unconfined aquifers exist in a limited number of areas and make up 10% of total estimated ground water.

Flora and Fauna: No native biological species remain on the planet.

Habitants: No inhabitants remain on the planet

Wait. What does that mean. No inhabitants remain. Doesn't that imply that there were once inhabitants? There was once plant life. Animal life. So, buildings would not be a surprise. The question is … where did they go?

We wake up earlier than usual today. The excitement of the adventure ahead of us I suppose. After realizing there was a garden tractor and cart in the green house, we estimate how far it could go on one fully charged battery. Uncertain of the actual distance, we are hopeful it will be enough to get there and back. And maybe even get there before sunset. I start to point out to Herbert that we should have used this mode of transportation all along on our daily walks. But then I think, we saw more details on foot, and it was good exercise. Beside, I enjoy our walks.

We load up our supplies in the cart, and we ride out in the 323 direction. As Herbert drives, we come up with all sorts of wild ideas about what the structure are, why they were deserted, or maybe they weren't deserted. It could be a mutant colony, or survivors of a war that don't know there is a universe of other people out there. We suspect it is something very mundane, but Herbert and I both love to make up stories about what could be. He seem to be more optimistic than mine.

We draw closer and closer to the buildings. Definitely buildings. You can make out windows. Probably 10 or so large buildings, fourteen or fifteen flights. Surrounded by lots of smaller ones. Three or four flights each. This is a city.

As we get closer, we can see streets between the buildings. Empty streets. There is no sign of movement. No transports hovering around.

We have stopped speculating. We have stopped talking all together. We just stare at the city as we get closer. The cracked earth edges right up to a street running along the perimeter of the buildings. We pull up to where the dirt ends, and Herbert stops the tractor. I don't ask why. We never talked about what to do when we got here. This world has been wide open space. We had both lived in cities before, but for 24 days now, we have seen nothing to block the horizon in any direction. Now suddenly we were about to enter what looked to us like a foreboding labyrinth of narrow passages between great stone and steel walls.

Herbert checks the battery status. Plenty to get us back even if we drive around. I check the time. Plenty of time to get back to the way station, maybe not before sunset, but not long after. It depends on how long we look around. We decide we will drive around the street for a bit first before we go into any of the buildings. Herbert makes some jokes about double parking and no one to jack the tractor while we go inside. I laugh, but my dark imagination was triggered by the one about someone stealing the tractor. We don't know that no one is here. I am going to make sure to lock the ignition before we leave site of the tractor.

The place definitely looks deserted. There are shop widows that look like the stores could still be open if not for the amount of dust and dirt that coated everything. This is not a place that was moved out of. It was left. As frozen in time as the stores look, there are no vehicles left on the street. You would think if it was a panicked departure, there would be some form of transports left here or there. But not a one. I suggest they left in a hurry. And all at once, Herbert adds.

Herbert says we should map the streets. He hands me his tablet and says I should draw the map. He snaps pictures every time we get to an intersection. My compass has stopped working, perhaps due to the height and composition of the buildings. So Herbert lets me use his. There are no names marking the streets. So we name the ones running somewhat north and south with letters, starting at Alpha. For the ones running east and west we use numbers. The odd diagonal ones, a color. I draw in rectangles for the buildings. I want to think up clever names for them, but my brain is too busy absorbing all of this to be very creative. I just note the number of flights for each.

As we reach the center, the street leads to an open plein that looks like it should be filled with people walking around and sitting on benches admiring what must once have been fountains but are now silent parched statues. Across the plein from us is the tallest building we have see so far. Its width takes up three of the cities blocks. It is magnificent. Wide steps, a third of the building's width lead up to entry doorways three flights tall. This surely is the city center. We don't even have to ask each other if we should go in. Herbert pulls up to the bottom of the steps and turns off the tractor. As we get out, I reach over, lock the ignition, and pocket the key fob. Just to be safe. Herbert smiles, but says nothing.

We walk up the steps in silence. As we near the top, we see through the doorways. An enormous open space lit by windows five fights up the front wall. There are ornate stair cases in the center, leading up to suspended walkways connecting to a third flight balcony wrapping around the back wall and both side. Something about this silent majestic space feels deserving of reverence, almost sacred. We stand silently admiring it.

Beep.

What is that?

Beep.

Herbert pulls the microbe detector from his pocket. Microbes. No inhabitants remain. Just the microbes. The microbes that made them leave, my imagination screams. I ask Herbert if we are safe. If we should leave now. If the microbes are air born viruses or bacteria. All at once I ask him all of this. He just shakes his head. He says the device is not registering viruses or bacteria that would harm us. I say I am relieved, and glad we are safe. Herbert does not looked relieved. He looks at me, then around the building. He points out, he didn't say we were safe.

Herbert says Humanoids and other mammals leave trace signatures of a unique collections of microbes on everything we touch. The microbes on our skin are almost as good as DNA for identifying an individual. The microbe detector identified and cataloged our individual microbe colonies when we first turned it on, and it ignores us when looking for other signs of life. Otherwise it would be beeping constantly. I tell him the communication systems that I install have a similar way of detecting individuals, and uses a persons unique electrical emissions to tag communications. I don't know why that is not how you login to a system instead of the archaic password method. Herbert says they tried other ways in the past, finger prints for example. Turned out the finger print on a dead or severed hand would get people into a system just fine. Microbes had the same flaw, but he thought the electrical emissions might be a better approach. Then he pointed out that I was not focusing on our problem in the current situation.

The device is detecting life. Not just fungi or random bacteria. It has recognized a colony of microbes and is referencing the catalog for individual identification. There could be a human here? Humans? That would be great. Herbert is quick to correct me. He said individual, not humanoid. There could be some sort of wild animal surviving in the city. Or even if it is humanoid, there is still the possibility it is not friendly to trespassers. I am surprised at Herbert's sudden move to the dark spaces my imagination lives in. And a little worried by that. We both start looking for movement in every corner and shadow in the space.

Beep.

The device has more info. Classification: Feline.

My dark imagination immediately starts listing the possibilities to me: lions, panthers, yule cats, werecats.

Beep.

SubClassifications: House Cat. Polydactyl.

Herbert and I are both baffled. On this apparently lifeless planet, no know human inhabitants, there is a Hemingway house cat? The device must be broken.

Beep.

Name: Webby.

How could it have a name? Herbert explains, just like he and I have been cataloged by the device, every other creature it has encountered has also been cataloged. I doubt that the machine named it Webby. Herbert says he entered our names when the device identified us. Someone using the device must have entered their cat's name also. Maybe it ran away from the transport station. That would explain how it got here.

As we discuss our disbelief that a cat named Webby is roaming around this structure, Webby appears from a shadow along the back wall. We stand frozen as Webby approaches us. He rubs himself around Herbert's leg, then heads back in the direction he came from. A few meters away, he stops and looks back at us. Herbert and I look at each other. This can't be happening. It's a cat. And it seems to want us to follow it. Herbert takes a couple of steps. I start walking also. The cat continues its path to the shadows on the back wall, stopping only briefly once more to make sure we are following. Then it stops again at a doorway on the back wall, and waits for us to catch up.

The opening is to a stairway, leading down into darkness. Webby rubs around my leg, then darts down the stairs. We both pull out our head strap torches. With their bright light, we peer down the stairs. Webby is waiting at the bottom. I ask Herbert if we are really going to follow a spooky cat into an basement abyss on a deserted planet. Pretty sure I have seen how that movie ends. He just asks how we are on time. I tell him we have plenty of time to look around for an hour or so and still get back to the station before sunset. That is, if we get back up these stairs alive. Herbert starts down the stairs. I follow.

At the bottom of the dark stairs is a dark hallway. The cat saunters ahead of us, seeming certain we are following. Webby turns left at the intersection of another dark hallway. We turn left. We can see a light from a door's window about halfway down the hallway.

Beep.

The light from my headlamp bounces toward the ceiling with my jerk reaction. We stop walking. The cat stops in front of the door. Herbert pulls out the microbe detector, but before he can even check it...

Beep.

Herbert echos the information to me.

Classification: Humanoid.

I say we should wait and see if the humanoid has a sub classification, or a name. I wonder if they know we are here. Webby obviously did. What if they do too? Or what if they don't? Imagine you are all alone on a deserted planet and there's a knocks on the door. Webby is still waiting on us.

Herbert starts walking again. After a couple of seconds, I follow. Herbert calls out a greeting and asks if anyone is here. He repeats it in several more languages. One that I didn't recognize at all. Herbert's knowledge is constantly amazing me. No one answers. But the door handle turns and opens just enough for Webby to prance happily into the lit room, with one glance back at us before he entered.

No one came out the door. No one called out to us. But the open door was an obvious invitation in response to Herbert's greetings. I stop a few meters from the door, but Herbert goes right up to the door and slowly pushes it the rest of the way open. He smiles at whoever was on the other side, and enters. I hesitantly continue to the door.

Inside is a room full of odd looking machines and structures. Metal arches and cubical frames. On the far side of the room, a man with wild white hair, wearing a long brown robe, stands turning dials, and flipping switches. Both he and Webby look back at us for a second as if to make sure we are paying attention, then the man returns his focus to the settings, and Webby walks away and finds a nice place to curl up for a nap.

The man makes some comment about it taking us long enough to get here. Then the microbe detector beeps. He looks back at us. He says his name is Marvin, and that those old gadgets always get it wrong and call him Merlin. He mumbles something about someone's warped sense of humor. It beeps again. He matter of factly says the sub classification is Wytch, not Sorcerer. Herbert looks at the microbe detector and raises his eyebrows at me to confirm what the man had said was true. Then with a satisfied once over of the instrument panels, Marvin asks if we are ready to go.

I didn't have to prompt Herbert to ask where exactly it was we were supposed to be going. Marvin looks very confused by the question. Herbert explains that we had been waiting for our transport for days now, and the names of our intended destinations. Marvin, initially not at all phased by two strangers entering his secret laboratory on a deserted planet, now looks at us as if we were unidentifiable creatures who crawled out of the shadows. After a moment, he asks what planets we came from. I am from Valko, and Hebert is from Tiozeven. Our answers do not seem to make him any more comfortable.

Marvin asks the interplanetary date that we arrived on the planet. He notes that was 24 local days ago. Herbert confirms that, and says we had been keeping track of the number of days ourselves. Marvin asks Herbert to describe his home planet. Herbert says he doesn't know what Marvin's references were, but that his home is much like our next stop, Earth. It has salt water oceans and continents with fresh water rivers. Then Herbert asks Marvin some questions. And why is he here, apparently all alone, on a baron planet? Why was he expecting us when we came in? And where was it he thought we were going?

Marvin suggests we all sit down, and motions to the table in the middle of the room. He asks if we would like some water. We both decline, and Herbert says we would just like to know more about where we are, and if Marvin knows anything about why the ship did not show up at our station.

We all sit, and Marvin takes a deep breath before he starts to explain why he is here. He says he runs this way station. The city was built around a mining industry, but was abandoned once the mineral was depleted because the storms on the planet make it hard to maintain a profitable civilization. The company he works for runs way stations. The planet is in a great location, and the land was cheap. So they set up a station here.

The devices in this room are transport devices. People are transported to the main room above, and then he sends then on to the next stop. He works here for 3 weeks, then another operator will relieve him and send him and Webby back to his planet, Wytch, spelled with a Y, where they will stay for three weeks, and then return to relieve the other operator. He says he was expecting travellers earlier today, but they didn't show. He assumed we were the ones he had expected.

Herbert and I look around the room. We have never seen or even heard of this type of transport technology. Herbert comments that had he known this was an option he would have quit using transport ships years ago. Marvin swallows before he replies. He explains that no transport ship have been here for years. I point out that we arrived on one 23 days ago. He says he is certain we did. But he is not certain from where, because all the planets we mentioned were destroyed ten years ago by what he calls the WR104 Event, a gamma ray burst that burnt up seven nearby planets.

Herbert tells Marvin there was a gamma ray burst ten years ago, but there were only several planets destroyed. He lists the planets. I remember the event when I was a kid, but I don't remember the names of the planets. Marvin had never heard of two that Herbert listed. They begin to compare their known histories. There are many parallels. There are similar events that happened, but some on planets with different names. Then everything diverges even more at the point of the gamma burst. After going through major events to present day, including Marvin's explanation of the development of the technology in his transport station by a scientist on Wytch, the two of them nod at each other, and just sit silently. Herbert looks at me and asks if I understand what is going on. I really don't. Marvin says that either he and Webby, or Herbert and I, have somehow crossed into a different universe. Herbert says he would like some of that water now.

Marvin returns to the table with the water, and we begin to discuss the ramifications of crossing universes. When I say we, I mean mostly Herbert and Marvin. I mainly keep repeating questions that are all some version of what are we going to do. They decide that Herbert and I have to go back to the station before sunset. Herbert says we will return the next day, if the city is still here in our universe. Then we will to try to figure out whose universe we are in, and how to get everyone back to the right one.

Herbert and I have not been saying anything as we walk back to the tractor. We start it up, and head back down the paved streets towards the cracked dirt of the desert. Herbert tells me to check my compass. I look. It is still not working. We continue our ride in silence.

We are about a kilometer from the city. Herbert tells me to check my compass again. I start to understand why he is asking. If my compass is not working, then there are no communications satellite, which means we are in Marvin's Universe. No reading. I point out that if we are in Marvin's universe, that would explain why no transport ship has shown up, and why no one had contacted us. Is our station still there? Are we driving out into the middle of the desert to a point that we can't return to the city before the night starts to get cold? Herbert says he is not sure, but he thinks we will be okay. We ride silently for another kilometer.

Herbert tells me to check the compass again every kilometer. Still not working. No. Wait. At four kilometers, there is a reading. We compare it to his. Herbert stops the tractor and looks back toward the city. I look too. Nothing on the horizon. I tell Herbert we are too far away to see it. Herbert smiles. He agrees that we are indeed much too far away.

I didn't realize the amount of tension that had been in my body on the way back, until I saw our station appear over the horizon. We reach the building and I can see our note on the door. Even more weight falls off my shoulders. When Herbert turns off the tractor, we hear an high pitched beeping. We both know immediately the sound of an incoming communication on the kiosk. We rush in. The message says all communication has been restored. Then some explanation of how local solar activity had caused disruption to communications satellites, and that's why no ships were able to navigate to the planet. Most importantly it said the transport to Earth would be here in two days. Earth. Our Universe.

We make a good meal to celebrate. At least as good as you can make in a transport station. Herbert starts talking about going back to the city tomorrow. I ask him how he even knows it is going to be there. He tells me that my compass was the proof. He is fascinated by the advanced technology in that universe. He imagines all the things we could learn from Marvin. I have never seen Herbert so excited. But I am not risking leaving before the transport arrives. That was a great adventure, but for me, it is over. I've had a good meal, now I need a good night's sleep.

After breakfast, Herbert starts packing up the tractor. He asks me one last time if I want to go with him. I decline. We exchange contact information, and he promises to send me messages from the kiosk as long as the universes are connected and he can still make trips between the two. I tell him how glad I was to be stuck at a transport station with him. He laughs and says he couldn't have chosen a better companion for the situation if he had picked one out himself. I watch Herbert ride off toward the city. He does not return before sunset, or the next day before the transport arrives. I leave for Earth, thinking of warm beaches and a yellow sun. But I will miss Herbert.

I find my assigned compartment. Semi-private. There is a woman and man already there when I enter. And a cat. It watches me as I sit down. I ask the woman if that is a Hemingway cat. I don't think she understood what I meant, and says the cat belongs to the man. He smiles and said yes. I tell him I had met another Hemmingway cat just recently. He agrees that is a strange coincident. The man says his name is Webster, and the cat's name is Marvin. It was named after his dad who died when their planet Wycca was destroyed by the gamma ray burst 10 years ago. Webster says he was on Earth for a school trip when the burst occurred, and that is his home now. He asks if I have ever been there before. I tell him no, at least not in this universe.

∞

#books #scifi #science fiction #multiple universes #aber crombie #Simon Herbert #marvin zirkman #alternate dimension #The Rip

0 notes