The Birth of The Unity (sequel to Chronicle of Nautilus)

Chapter 2: The Newborn

On the way home, Adam spent a lot of time thinking and on the contrary to what the voice had suggested, enjoyed the journey very little. The return was much more draining than the way forward. The heat struck him hard and almost knocked him out a few times. The pain in the legs became unbearable. The gurgling belly and depression with a lack of motivation to search for food to fill the stomach added to the discomfort that increase with every next step.

He was rushing at first but later allowed himself some rest before passing larger obstacles. When the sun got to the highest point he would rest in the shade of the trees. Since, in the middle of the way he had torn his shirt and only shorts covered his skin, enjoying the sunlight burn was a luxury he did not have. A soft bed, a decent dinner, and bottle of water, was all he dreamed of. Now it was those simple things that pushed him forward and not some higher purpose.

He overdid it on the last day and fell down after getting over the final hill and seeing the village in front of him. The excitement of a decent rest and food had pushed him to the limits.

After hours or days of sleep, he awoke in his bed. From head to toes, everything hurt. He knew there was no way in fixing that, but there was a thing he could do about: the thirst. There was a large bowl placed by his bed with about ten liters of water inside. He did not bother with the manners and even did not check if anyone was around as he stepped out into the garden and drank a half of it, then poured the remains all over his head. Next went the sandwiches served on the cupboard by the bed. At some point, he lost their number. Was it cheese, sausage or vegetables, everything was pushed down the throat. Only after the feast did his thoughts stray from himself to the world around him.

With a large cup of water in one hand, he stepped out to enjoy the garden view. Now, with his body rested, he could clearly think about the world surrounding him. The long uncut grass swinging in the wind tickled his legs. The warm summer breeze blew into his face. Clouds raced above in the dimming red sky. The fake sun was setting on the fake horizon in silence. He got so tired of it during last weeks. He felt that chatting with a neighbor about insignificant things would be a great relief. Yet he could not hear his neighborhoods walk, work, or speak. It was as if everyone in the village had dropped dead. The absence of noise felt disturbing. The evening was the busiest time of day in summer. Streets were filled with children laughter and talks of tired farmers returning home. Working machinery would buzz far beyond the last living house until the late night.

He slowly walked onto the street and glanced to the sides. There was not a single person around. He had already figured that he lived in a strange world, but the lack of people, now that he thought of it, felt, even more, surreal than the view at the edge of the world. Someone had laid him into bed, prepared water and served the sandwiches but there was no one around who could have done that.

Adam shouted at the top of his lungs, "Can anyone hear me?"

But no one replied.

Upset and still tired, he got back to the bed. Thinking that this was only a bad dream, he fell asleep hoping to wake up from the world that currently did not feel like home at all.

Sunbeams poured through the window it warmed Adam and made him open the eyes. There was a small bird jumping around the still of the door to the garden. It chirped annoyingly. Adam picked up a small stone and threw it at the little thing. As the stone was about to hit the target, the bird did not twitch. The stone passed him through and hit the ground. Strange Adam thought, sat down and overlooked the room. There were bookshelves filled with books about space travel, peculiarities of warp drives and advanced courses on interstellar travel. There were books about colony establishments, physics, and instructions about jump gate. There was the typewriter that gave text output only after typing in a long line of symbols that were totally different from what was being written. There was the soft body training chair which used electricity impulses to tire the body, a perfect thing to use to get rid of the remaining energy before the sleep. A picture frame hung on the wall. It rotated ten digital pictures changing every five minutes. Pictures contained schemes he had little understanding of. Yet they always felt fascinating and charming to look at. They had been burned into his memory. After closing the eyes, he could remember every little detail of any of the schemes.