The Nomad's Book

Chapter 8,962 - the Sunset Planet

The two suns had barely begun to rise over the jagged mountains in the east. One dark red, a fading behemoth of a star at the end of its life - the other a brilliant gold color. It made for some fascinating sunsets, and extremely long days.

Nomad had been hiking for several hours, climbing the massive peaks of what he called the Pillar Mountains. They stuck out of the grassy plains that made up most of the continent, abruptly stabbing upwards into the clouds. This planet had a thick fog enveloping it for days at a time, so Nomad was unable to see what was on the other side of the Pillar Mountains when he crash-landed.

After another hour of clambering, Nomad had lunch under a small, sloped alcove. From here, he could see the golden hills roll onto the horizon, with the occasional swathe of frail trees the color of lava. The whole planet eminated the feeling of sunset.

He also spotted his crash site, a few miles from the mountains. Upturned black soil and scorched trees - it looked like a meteor had crashed. Which was essentially what had happened. Wanderlust was on its side in the middle of the crater, on its side. It had taken quite a beating.

Nomad pulled himself away from the view and took out his lunch from his worn pack. Inside was a tin of dried jerky, as well as a small, homemade loaf of stalkgrass. It was still a little warm from the campfire.

After lunch, Nomad appreciated the view for a few more minutes, then packed up and continued. The climb became harder and harder, sloping more and more vertically as Nomad ascended into the clouds. Hours later, he emerged from the fog into the above, and took a sharp breath in.

The skies were majestic, even more so than below. The suns had now risen a quarter of the way into the sky, but Nomad could still see the horizon was a deep violet-blue, speckled with stars, which faded into a violent orange-purple, ringed with yellow and red. Nomad scrambled onto an outcropping and sat, removing several small devices from his bag. It was dinnertime.

The first device was an metallic cylinder, which Nomad propped onto the outcropping with three small unfoldable legs. The top was grated, with symmetrical legs that Nomad rotated outwards and set a small metal pot upon. After twisting a small knob, a small blue flame sputtered out of the cylinder and began to heat the container. Portable stoves were so very useful when there wasn't a bit of wood in sight.

Nomad opened several refrigerated cans and dumped their frozen contents into the pot. As they simmered, he stared at the sky again. It felt like night, but it looked like early morning. He guessed that this planet had lethargic days and endless nights. From the speed at which the sun moved across the sky, it seemed like a singular day would take about twenty sols, which was more than enough time to fix his ship.

Suddenly the sky darkened, and Nomad flinched with surprise. A gargantuan shadow passed over the sky, obscuring the binary suns and engulfing half of the world in darkness. Was night coming already? Surely not - the suns were nowhere near setting.

Nomad craned his head up and nearly leapt off the cliff in surprise. A moon spun slowly above, shading the planet in a massive eclipse. It looked desolate and pockmarked with craters, and colored a sort of yellowy white. Nomad couldn't believe how close it was to the planet without crashing - or maybe it was just very large. He observed it intently as it passed over him, and the sunlight spilled back in over the ridge.

The moon soared over the sky and disappeared over the ridge in a half hour, spewing a trail of asteroids behind it. The chunks of spacerock tore fiery streaks through the sky, burning up into fireballs. One hissed close to Nomad's ledge and he flinched back.

The container made a hissing noise, and Nomad took out a small wooden plate, carved out of ferwood. It was part of a beautiful antique set he had acquired years ago – the wood was quite durable and served him well during his hence adventures.

The heated canister produced a squishy, can-shaped chunk of protein. It wasn't exactly delicious, but it served as food well enough. Nomad ate it quickly, then finished it off with a swig of water from one of his flasks. Then he took a nap for a few hours. He had learnt to take sleep when he could, on planets like these with days that didn't end.

After his snooze, Nomad fished around in his pack and produced a worn leather book. Half the pages were blank, the rest filled with dense scrawl and occasional sketches. He flipped to the page and recorded his discoveries about the sunset planet and its strange moon. Then he began to climb again.

The suns were high in the sky when Nomad finally passed through the Pillar Mountains. Between two peaks that towered up into the stratosphere, Nomad had managed to make his way to the other side, and saw what laid there.

The other side of the mountains was a cliff – viewed from afar, the Pillar Mountains were actually inclining in that direction. The cliff side went down, down, down, deep into the planet's crust. Nomad could faintly see water down there – perhaps an underwater ocean, or a river of some kind.

On the other side of the great ravine, the savanna continued to the horizon. There were only a few small mountains jutting out of the flats, nowhere near as large as the Pillars.

Nomad set up camp in the mountain crevasse, overlooking the ravine and the plains on the other side. He strung up a canvas between an outcropping on one side of the tiny valley and a weathered sapling on the other. There was some scraps of wood, so he made a small campfire and cooked his breakfast canister on that instead. The planet was temperate already, so he waited for his food to cook by exploring the nearby peaks for a few minutes.

On the far side of the crevasse was a horizontal slab of the orange-tinted rock, overlooking the other side of the planet. Wind whistled through the mountains. Nomad wondered if there was any life here. Was he the first creature to touch this place?