This summer, we asked participants to submit work for the second year in a row as part of our Invite To Write Challenge. Throughout the fall we will share some of these pieces from our prompt, “Another World, Another Time.”
Next up is “Centauri” by Aaron Grant.
Foreword
A not-so wise man once said “dreams are the royal road to the subconscious.” It was this quote that stuck in my head as I went downstairs at 4:45 a.m. Wrapping the robe around me as I went, I pondered what had just happened in that special time when one still remembers dreams. See, everyone has Divine Gifts. Some are to influence or motivate, some are to accumulate wealth of any sort, some are to discernment, and some, among many others, are to create like I am about to. My gift comes from God and the subconscious He gives me, because as I sit at my desk remembering all the events that had transpired, God knew that I would wake, and write my heart out as a means of Divine Instruction. The wisdom of that not-so wise man is nothing but to convey exactly my mind as I tell a story that comes directly from my dreams.
I have never considered what I would leave behind in this world until 4:45 a.m. I am not speaking about what will remain to loved ones after death, but in a larger sense, to the entire world after it itself transpires and there is nothing left but dust scattered about the universe. We are at a point in history where we, as a human race, and representative of all that is on Earth, are able to leave behind a token, however small to the rest of the universe that says in one voice, that we existed, and what you have found in the capsule, however small and insignificant will represent the hopes and dreams of an entire world to another yet discovered race light years away. Wholeheartedly believing they exist, that there are worlds similar to ours that God has created and Visited just like ours, it is in my mind inevitable that our culture will come in contact with another’s far away. In that sense, I ask myself at this waking hour, what would I send that would represent an entire world of change, tumult, and greed?
As I write this foreword, I can feel the dream slipping away back to the subconscious from whence it came. I must hurry. I must use my Gift to your measure that I might convince you to leave behind something that “moth does not corrupt, and thieves do not break through and steal.” A legacy of spirit, as not all will be able to be sent in the capsule, a legacy of more than dust that will be acceptable to the Creator, and cast aside the treasure that you wantonly accrue in your lives. Remember this, as your capsule is only so big, and your memory so fragile.
Centauri
Two creatures sit on a dimly lit beach. Moons bleaching the sky, the two talk to one another legs sprawled in the sand, content in telling a story from long ago. Up in the night there is a galaxy spied in a looking glass that is red and fading, a galaxy that is dying. The two stare at it remarking every change as it fades to dust.
“And, here you see it fading, an entire galaxy being swallowed up into nothing,” the looking glass holder says.
The other, younger and inexperienced, had never seen anything like this before responded: “Is it true you went there when you were aboard ship?”
“Yes, that is where I found it. Now look! See it change altering the sky around it? Very few live to see the end of an entire galaxy. Now it is here…but for them, it already happened long ago. It is a pity all they left behind was so meaningless. Beautiful, but meaningless.”
The younger wondered for a bit, and replied thoughtfully, “I would have left something better.”
“Like what?”
“Well, not money, that’s for sure.” The young one was thinking of the gold and silver coins locked up in their museums: forbidden to touch as they were a great treasure. Coins that were found in the capsule sent from the world that was currently being obliterated. “I would send words maybe, or some pictures.”
“See, said the looking glass holder, that’s what’s important to you…maybe their money was as much as important to them. It is beautiful.”
The circular redness in the sky was warping, changing, reflecting light as if the galaxy were becoming crystallized and shining. It started as a circle, and breaking at one side it hemorrhaged turning pitch black. A void like a black hole. Before they both knew it, the red was extinguished and nothing remained, not even stars. The pair gazed for a while saying nothing. They knew the event already happened long ago, but to this foreign world, and to this foreign sky, the event was fresh as it if were unfolding directly above instead of hundreds of light years away. It seemed like hours until the older one spoke.
“I remember it like it was yesterday.” And, just like that, he was propelled in mind to the controls flashing the day he found the capsule. The younger was in awe of his vivid memory in space. It was so adventurous, so awesome, he hoped he would go to space one day. “It didn’t seem so awesome at the time, the older said, I was terrified because there, in front of me, was a ship bearing down at incredible speed. It impacted my hull before I had time to react, those horrible white flashes of light…I didn’t it coming, and all I could think of was to open the vent, and suck the tiny ship in to my cargo hold. Yes, the probe was that close.”
With a quick press of a screen, the vent opened and the ship was sucked inside with a terrible crash. The ship automatically magnetized the tiny vessel bringing it to a dead stop. For a moment the captain of the larger vessel, the one telling the story, was bewildered…he knew that the force of the magnetic pull killed the occupants of the ship, if there were any at all, as centrifugal force brought them to an abrupt end. He checked his controls, and his ship registered hardly any damage…what the hell was it? He asked himself. He was the only one on board, and he rushed down to the cargo hold knowing the turns in the dark corridors intimately, coming upon a sight indeed.
The ship had been breached, and something was scattered all over the floor that gleamed in the dim light. Touching a nearby panel, he raised the lights on the smoke filled room, and programmed the ship to clear the atmosphere. Walking over to the mess, he bent down and picked up a round, yellow piece of metal that was like a mirror. Fitting in the small of his hand it had the image of an alien in some garment with rays of the sun and stars together…it was indeed beautiful. Flipping it over was another creature that appeared to be taking flight, equally beautiful as the front. There were hundreds of them, and of different kinds and metals which spilled out the gaping fibrous hole in the probe.
Stopping his story, the older one that had the looking glass said to the younger, “you want to see something?” The younger one intently nodded and he couldn’t believe his eyes when out of his garment was pulled the very object he was speaking of. The round was indeed mirrored, and with the features just as he described. It was strikingly beautiful holding it up to the sky so that the moons light caught it perfectly.
“You still have it!? That should be in the museum!” Greedily the older one smiled and dropped it in the others hand. The weight was surprising, and it immediately took him as he had never actually held one of the specimens. In the museum there were thousands of them. Priceless. But this one, he surmised, was the most beautiful. The government knew surprisingly little about them, or the script upon them other than a wild guess that it was some type of alien currency as they were made with metals that were considered rare even on this planet. Gold. He held the coin, flipped it, squeezed it, and looking at the other he knew instantly the feeling that had gripped their entire world in a frenzy. This was a treasure. This was prized, and with it he could get whatever he wanted. In a moment he understood greed.
The older one snatched it out of his hand and made it disappear again, and the younger, bewildered, understood why their history was so changed because of the rare find made so long ago. It was, after all, their first contact with another world of intelligent beings, and it was so prized as to be stashed away in an alien probe that they couldn’t ignore it. Indeed, their planet knew nothing about currency at the time, as it was a distant memory, and the discovery of it made their world wild with greed; coining their own all over again, as if all they had fought for, to eliminate currency, was in vain. The new coins even bore the same likeness to the alien’s, but with superior metals, but that wasn’t what was important. What was important was that the discovery plunged his world back thousands of years into the age of hard currency, everyone was stricken.
“I managed to scour this one away for myself before the government could get their hands on it, the older one said. That’s how it started,” continuing his story in a more subdued tone as if the discovery diluted the pureness of his mind. “I then wired the authorities, and before I knew it they had docked with me taking everything the cargo bay. I swore I saw nothing officially, but un-officially I knew everything as I had entered the steaming vessel after pocketing the coin.”
The vessel had a large communications dish with primitive solar energy collectors. It was a complete mess in the bay with parts everywhere and sparks flying. It soon became apparent it was an unmanned vessel; he entered and saw no sign of life. In the darkness were more round pieces of metal and inscriptions on the walls. Holding up a light, the captain looked in awe at an alien creature drawn with precision surrounded by a circle and some sort of script. The script was everywhere and illegible in the small compartment, and split open along the side of the hull was a trunk filled with the metal rounds of all sorts of shape, size and material. Overtaken with curiosity, the captain thrust his hand in the mass and pulled out a fistful of shiny metal, sorting through it seeing odd faces and creatures. After minutes of sorting, he dropped the metal back in the broken trunk, and realized instantly that he might be exposed to alien toxins or radiation. He left behind the inscriptions and the metal and returned to the helm, through the dark corridors in awe of what he had just found.
“That’s how we discovered greed,” said the old captain.
Centauri was a world of civilization, and the Centaurs considered themselves civilized people. The realization that intelligent life was out there strengthened the resolve of every citizen. They must be better organized, better disciplined. They must be productive, and most of all, ready. Ready for peace and war. The coming of the alien currency only enhanced their culture, the government surmised, and began using it to their advantage. Indeed, every statesman who thrust their hands in the hoard was taken by it. So, the government began coining their own scarce metals that bore a resemblance to the alien coin married with their own images of greatness. With greatness came vanity; every magistrate wanted his image on the coin and they increased in rarity and beauty, and the people wanted them. The people discovered drive. The old manner of production and caste-ownership was dead. A system of exchange quickly developed paring with Centaurians working harder than ever before. Suddenly the whole world realized that they were not alone in the universe, a fact that both fascinated and terrified them.
