At the Edge of the Cosmos: SciFi Contest Entries 2022

The Void Which Stared Back

Contest: SciFi Holiday Contest, July 2022
Host: The Science Fiction Profile Family
Prompt: Telescope: "The new space telescope was meant to tell us more about the origins of the universe. But it also paved the way to an astounding discovery."
Content warnings: Existential dread, mild mentions of violence and suicide, alcohol use, some coarse language.

🥇 Grand Prize: SciFi Profile's Holiday Contest 2022
🥇 BeyondSol Category Prize: SciFi Profile's Holiday Contest 2022

* * *

Everyone has always said that when you stare long enough into the void, the void stares back. Doctor William Fawkes contemplated this phrase a lot these days, ever since he had made what might be humanity's single most important, and terrifying, discovery.

He sat now, in an oppressive metal passenger cabin aboard flight IA623 on the Centauri-Solar Express line, having departed Hephaestus Station in Alpha Centauri six days ago and due to arrive at Earth III Space Station in a matter of hours. From there he would, presumably, be escorted straight to a five-star hotel where he could dump his belongings and put on a suit someone else had told him he must wear, to be then taken straight to the Solar Federation Space Association's headquarters aboard Earth III where he would host a press conference announcing his incredible new findings.

After that, he feared, humanity would implode in on itself.

William leaned back into his cushy pleather chair, allowing the plush, cold material to consume him. He inhaled deeply, feeling the shakiness in his breath, then let out an explosive sigh. Here was a man who desperately, even despairingly, wanted to avoid this press conference. He took a swig from his whisky, set the glass down into the chair's receptacle, and contemplated requesting more. He had been booked into first class - they'd supply him with anything he asked for. Perhaps if he consumed enough, he'd be too drunk to tell anyone anything. Or, perhaps he'd be so drunk he'd blather uncontrollably.

Two weeks ago, William was just another scientist. The leader of his team, but just another scientist nonetheless. Life was good. His wife was mad at him again for taking a job that would pull him away for weeks on end, but his career was going well and he was earning a small fortune - which he intended to spend on said wife and their two kids, as recompense. Indeed, William had beaten out hundreds of other candidates for this dream job - heading up the new Three Systems Giant Space Telescope Observatory on the outskirts of Alpha Centauri - and had thrown himself into his work with gusto. He was a 'first in, last out' kind of guy, barely able to peel himself away from his many screens, his charts, his loves.

Then, of course, he'd made the discovery. It was about 0200 hours local station time when the data had finally collated and he could finish analysing what he saw. He'd stayed up late, fuelled by jet-black coffee, just to witness it, to be the first. Upon seeing the data, and the images, he had immediately spat out said coffee, run a full systems diagnostic, called both engineering and IT to tell them there was an issue, been assured everything was running smoothly, run another diagnostic, paced back and forth a few times, checked everything a third time, and then sprinted to the toilet to vomit.

The technology was functioning. The science was sound. The data and images were clear. His discovery was not a systems error.

He'd vomited a second time.

His mind swirled. His hands shook. His knees wobbled. Dr William Fawkes did not know what to do. If he, a seasoned scientist, had reacted so viscerally to this discovery, how would other people react? What would happen to humanity? His mind so very quickly reeled, plotting out as many eventualities as he could contemplate. All the 'What-Ifs?' of the rainbow. He did not know what to do next. And so, he lied.