I stood upright and massaged my aching neck, looking to Professor Heinz for inspiration.
“Bet, you would’ve known where we are, wouldn’t you prof?”
Then I smiled as it occurred to me what to try next.
“Thanks, Prof. Heinz,” I said before picking up my fleece and exiting the viewing cockpit.
On entering the cold observation hall, I donned my fleece and walked briskly over toward the printed maps, still on the desks beside the conference room. The network was out of action, but Professor Heinz’s preference for paper could provide some answers.
I went to the large plot drawers and searched each one in turn, not stopping to re-read the labels on the front. Star charts were what I sought and star charts were what I found—dozens and dozens of them. After laying all of them out on the unoccupied third table, I flicked through the pile, skim reading the information box in the top right corner of each.
Three times, I did this before concluding that these were three series of star charts—one set for each of the three telescopes. I placed the A0 sheets on the floor and picked up only the ones related to the starboard telescope. Counting sixteen charts on the table, I realized that each was a snapshot of the sky for each of the sixteen light years from Earth to Aura. What practical use this had, when, for most of the time we’d be in stasis, I couldn’t work out. Perhaps it was contingency or maybe just the pet project of an eccentric old academic. It didn’t matter, I had what I needed and took the sheet marked 16.1 light years—in other words, how the sky should look once in the Aura system.
I rolled up the star chart and jogged back to the telescope with just the hint of a grin on my face. Through the airlock, into the heat and fleece off, I went to the finderscope. Then I looked down at the star chart and back to the finderscope. Sighing deeply, I went to the azimuth adjustment wheel and turned it to a region of dark sky, away from the glare of the alien sun. A few constellations looked recognizable: one called Perseus and another called Taurus—which looked nothing like a bull to me. But did this confirm I was on a ship around in the Aura system or not? I crouched down, read the small print under the information box, and sighed. Part of it read:
Only valid for scheduled month and year at specified point in approach trajectory.
“Of course,” I whispered, disappointedly.
So in other words, this star chart was hopelessly out of date. Besides, I was nowhere near expert enough to make a call on the ship’s position from this. I shook my head and decided to move the scope back toward the planet. I had a rapidly filling agenda to keep—Reichs, the long-range transceiver and then the shuttle bay—but I wanted a last look at the planet for clues.
Once more teeing up the finderscope with the manual wheels, I aimed the giant tube at the frozen planet. With only half of the planet in view, I made a double take at what I thought I’d seen. I scrunched my eye, shaking my head. How could it be? Rising through the glowing blue fringe of the planet was the gray arc of another orb, something unexpected peeping above the planet’s atmospheric haze. A satellite—a natural satellite. Unless I was mistaken, this frozen world had a moon.
“Huh, would you look at that …” I whispered as I watched the gray dome edge upward from behind its parent world.
As it gradually revealed itself, I thought back to training, exploring all the accessible neural pathways on the subject.
Did any of the Aura planets have a moon?
Aura-c did not, that was for sure. But as good as my memory usually was, I couldn’t remember if the other planets in the system did or not. I guessed that with so much focus on the one habitable world, it was natural that the instructors paid lip service to the system’s other planets.
If I ever got out of this mess and had kids, I’d remind them how important it was to listen in class. I thought about the children I’d once wanted and started down a well-worn path to melancholy before checking my thoughts and focusing on the present.
I supposed it was possible that Aura-e had a moon, although my best guess in a quiz would have been two tiny moons as Mars had. But this was no trivia quiz, played for prizes and kudos—this was part mystery, part nightmare and ultimately about survival. Maybe, I could eat for the rest of my life most probably, just staying on the Juno, but how long would it be before my mind turned? And what life would it be drifting around an unknown star, with only the dead for company? No life worth living was the answer.
I lay down on the floor and thought about times past, about my mom, my sister Nikki and, most of all, about Juliet. A tear rolled down my cheek and welled in my eyes. And then I let go and sobbed like I hadn’t since the sixth day of June in 2066—six-six-six-six. Four sixes, not three, but still the work of the Devil. Other faces came to my mind’s eye: Blanco and his wife, my old boss from Boise PD and many other individuals I’d known. Every single one of them had died centuries ago. Even their children would be long gone. And their grandchildren, too. Nothing left of them, not even their memory—except for the memories of them living in my mind. Once I died, those memories would be gone, too. If I told no one about these special people from my distant home world, then everything they’d ever been would be lost in the mists of time. I wanted to find out how they’d lived out the remainder of their lives. Did Nikki meet a nice guy, get married, have children? Did she become famous the world over? How did Mom live out her final years? Did she ever love again? How did she pass away? So many questions that I’d probably never learn the answers to. So it wasn’t just my survival, it was about knowing what happened to those I loved on a distant planet, in a distant time. It was about honoring their memory and telling someone, anyone about their story.
I took a deep breath and got to my feet, unsure of how long I’d been lost in thought. The eyepiece beckoned and I accepted its silent invitation after wiping the lingering moisture from my eyes.
The moon had continued its rise over planet X, forming a gray semi-circle on its upper left horizon. I studied its detail—the patches of light and dark, craters of all size—then went back to the finderscope to view its entirety.
I stood up in astonishment, my heart racing, my head in a daze.
“Oh my God … That’s not right,” I whispered. “It can’t be …”
I calmed my breathing and returned to the unreality of what the finderscope told.
This wasn’t the Aura system and the ship hadn’t diverted to some contingency planet light years beyond.
I’d seen this moon before in the night skies of Idaho as a boy. Its face was different from this angle—the Man in the Moon, forever facing the home world—but there was no mistaking. This was the Moon, Earth’s moon. It meant something else too. Something frightening. The frozen planet I was looking at was Earth.
Humanity’s once beautiful world had changed beyond all recognition, but what the hell had happened? Who made it down there alive? What became of my mom and sister? So many questions and a burning, blazing desire for answers. I suspected there was only one way to find the truth—to go to the surface of the home planet.
*
TO BE CONTINUED IN
HOME PLANET PART II: APOCALYPSE
Release date: February 6th, 2016
Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B019S06FO2
Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B019S06FO2
Home Planet: Awakening (Part 1) Page 14
