He daydreamed of the decimated planet he left behind. His former home had been a rich world teeming with diverse lifeforms. Over the ages, his species had emerged from primordia and developed into a sophisticated, curious, and peaceful civilization. But in spite of their sophisticated curiosity, extensive exploration had uncovered no traces of life in their solar system or systems beyond. The current, embarked-upon mission had hoped to change that.
On a grander scale, his vibrant world was part of a binary star system which hinged upon two suns locked in an orbital embrace. An assortment of planets swirled about the dancing stars with his being the only one lucky enough to fall within the habitable zone. Worry had crept in over the years that the catastrophic nature of their experiment had disrupted far more than his planet, and he wondered if the rest of his cosmic neighborhood had also been sucked through the opening in space he and his team had created.
Could the force have thrown the stars out of each other's grip? Yes. Could the vacuum have pulled through the remainder of the solar system? Yes. Could the entire fucking universe have been fucking torn to shreds? Maybe.
But deep down he thought not. If he had destroyed the universe, he supposed he would not still be barreling toward this new, distant sun. That is, if he was even barreling at all.
Unless there are multiple universes. Perhaps our infinite is not the only infinite.
He sighed and stared ahead. The pinpoint stared back.
Could you be the center of a vast system? With your satellite planets looming in the dark?
The windshield filter would keep that answer at bay. He contemplated the beings that might encircle this singular star.
Are there organic cells on your worlds? Intelligent life? Do they look at you for answers as I do? Do they revere you? Despise you? Do they wage wars in the name of a singular God fashioned in your image? Are you the root of their existence? Their demise?
Hypotheticals ushered him to sleep.
