Lonely Paths

The Wanderer

The stars sauntered across the void. In his ship, the Wanderer sat near the aft gaze port and looked on with detachment. The radiation shields would deploy soon and obscure the limited view he had and it would be quite some time before he could see the outside again. Not that it changed much. But with all the time he had, there was not much else he could do.

He felt the shield generator coming to life and knew that he was nearing his destination. He could see the path of his ship and the bright star it would soon pass without actually having to see it all. The ship would move past the star absorbing its radiation to fuel the gravity resistors and to speed the ship past its pull. It would slow down and reach its target – a dark planet orbiting ponderously along its predestined path – and it would turn around and start its own slow orbit around the planet, giving him time to see it before deciding to actually land on it.

But he already knew what he would decide. He could see himself going down there. He could see the place where he would land, the time he would spend and a glimmer of how he would spend it. All without even actually seeing the planet. But one thing at a time.

He walked to the fore and waited. The radiation shields came down and with a gesture he opened the protective doors and looked upon the planetary system through the glass barriers. His gaze wandered disinterestedly across the expanse before him, barely registering the other planets before settling upon the one he was assigned to.

A greyish sphere with splotches of blue and white, the planet had three moons orbiting it. Hope and excitement sparked briefly inside his mind before he quelled them.

'Too soon, too soon, no matter how small', he reminded himself. He had not journeyed across galaxies to lose focus now. There were still too many light years to travel and myriads of planets to explore before he can indulge in the luxuries of hope and peace.

And yet, as his ship started its descent, he couldn't help feeling a sense of fulfilment.

***

As he walked under grey skies, he looked around at the bleak landscape. There were no signs of any life, but he knew that already. Had there been any, he thought bemusedly, that would be something that would have shattered his entire species' assumptions.

But there will be life on this planet. He wouldn't have travelled so far to be here otherwise.

Black earth crunched under his feet as he walked in search of something he knew must be around here somewhere. Fierce winds buffeted his body often carrying little stones in their currents. Light was barely able to penetrate the roiling clouds in the sky. A dark planet this will be, he mused, even when the atmosphere changes and the clouds disperse – it was just too far away from its small sun. He could barely make out the two moons that should be visible from this area of the planet where he was standing.

In the distance, he could see the vague outline of something solid, probably a mountain range. But closer than that horizon, where a pile of tall rocks jutted out from the earth to form a windbreak, was his destination.

He reached the place and looked down. At the feet of the rocks, the earth looked different. Instead of black, there was a hint of silver. He shone a light onto that patch of earth and bent closer. Small rocks of a silvery blue colour sparkled in the light. He dug through them and found silver soil, hard and dry. He took out an instrument and unwound a wire from it and introduced an end of it into the piled silver blue rocks and then into the soil.

'Vanadium, Cobalt, Unknown, Chlorine, Unknown,' read a screen on the strange device.

More work for us, he thought as he looked at the molecular structures of the unknown compounds that were being displayed on the screen.

'The Monitor will love this,' he directed the thought into a portion of his mind that felt different from his and in response, could detect a mirth that was not his.

He pocketed the device and looked at the patch of the earth that he disturbed. Images streamed past his vision. It was as if a film had started to play. Time sped forward. He stood up and looked around. It will begin here; he could see it. This one place, this one little nook here sheltered by these rocks. Ages and ages later, but right here where he was standing. He cannot see all of the future but enough to know that organisms will be born here and thrive and move further away, spreading across the land.

He can see them walking across the plains, evolving through the millennia, living, hunting, dying. Millions of them, hurrying every which way. And he tried to find one that he was hoping to find. One species that could evolve enough to become superior, to become intelligent enough to know that there must be more to life than what they could see in their immediate surroundings, enough to look to the stars for answers.

The moons slowly traversed along their paths around the planet. The dust laden winds pummelled the rocks. As the planet itself rotated, the speed of the winds kept changing. And he stood there looking at something only he could see, searching.

He moved as if one coming out of a reverie. He turned away from the rocks and started walking towards his ship. On those planets where he found what he was looking for, he would stay for a long time, moving about and observing the future. He would sit at a spot and go into a trance like state as if he was already in the future, sitting beside an object or a creature that he knew would live in that time. He would spend days drinking in the scenery or observing the turn of events that would bring the changes that most favour the survival of the species he was interested in.

He couldn't always see the nuances, the minutiae of the course. But he could see the broad strokes. And those would be enough to please him. But here, on this planet, he was disappointed. He knew that to have hope for every planet he landed on was foolish. But every planet he travelled to, every hour of his life he spent away from his home, every step was driven by that one hope. To find another species that could 'talk' to him and his. That was the one objective, one mission.

He guided his ship through the murky skies and into outer space again. He sent his report to the Monitor and the coordinates to the Destroyer. Once the details for his next target appeared on his ship's screen, he set course and sped away, the stars trailing behind.