The Value of a Journey
Written for NYC Midnight’s #ShortStoryChallenge2020, April 2020
by Darcie T. Kelly
With a snap of his fingers, The Eternal releases matter in a ripping, screaming explosion. He knows the next moment will separate the weak from the strong. The dazzling display of violence, these moments of earliest existence, involve creation and destruction on a massive scale. The birth and annihilation of immeasurable energies happen within fractions of a moment. The death shroud of one generation recycles into the birth wail of another, billions upon billions of times.
One unnamed particle in the chaos does not know to which generation she belongs, unaware of how many millions of ancestors perished for her existence. But she’ll have time to realize that later. Now, escape is her all-consuming occupation.
Observing her cling to a passing electron, The Eternal dismisses her as an underachiever, lacking both destination and purpose. Her ride is turbulent. In addition to the searing heat of her unsuspecting travel companion, heat that threatens to break her grip or bind the two forever, there are collisions, sharp turns, and forces tearing her in every direction. And the chaos. Oh, the chaos.
With a final compressing blast, she breaks free and The Eternal groans in exasperation. As she spins, drifting at escape velocity, enjoying a three-hundred-sixty-degree view of black nothing (the electron nowhere to be seen) and a curious tickle within, The Eternal names her.
H, he begins, I expected better.
H considers The Eternal’s words. Wonders what he’d have preferred her do. H, herself, is quite proud. She survives when so many perished. While her situation has significantly improved compared with moments ago, H finds the darkness crowded and dangerous. Collisions are frequent and painful. She buries The Eternal’s criticism within, muffling its hurt.
As defense against external pain, H surrounds herself with superficial friends, an atom here, a proton there, building a rocky armour, toughening herself against the blows, deflecting each impact with a whispering burst of rock dust and a change of direction. Ricocheting here and there, losing pieces of herself and replacing them with others, H eases her way off the battlefield and tends her wounds before reaching toward the distance. There is a universe to explore.
***
In all fairness, in his omniscience The Eternal knows a couple of things H does not. First, there is no universe to explore. Yet. He provided a blank canvas. It is the purpose of every bit of energy and matter released in the Big Bang to create the masterpiece. Second, H’s recent experience, while it was a significant experience indeed, is limited by her youth and is a mere shadow of the pain she will endure from here. He believes she does not have what it will take, that an opportunity for creation has been wasted on her, that one more generation of recycling in her case would have made for a more spectacular future universe.
With equal fairness to H, The Eternal has no idea where her curiosity will lead.
***
“Hello out there!” H shouts into the black. She has journeyed for time immeasurable. More specifically, since time began. She craves adventure. New discoveries. New … anything. The silent expanse is boundless. Her desperate cry, the first sound in the void, still vibrates when something amazing happens. An explosion of light and, with it, an expulsion of heat, energy, and matter. H turns, amazed at the sight. The first sight in all creation. H believes herself complete in this moment. That the purpose of her life is to witness this event. She is, at once, completely joyful and completely calm.
For a moment.
Before she is pummelled with debris and radiation. Shorn of armour. Made defenseless by this unexpected attack. Stripped to her core. Laid naked in light previously unknown.
Star, The Eternal names the light, you are beautiful. The star shines, basking in the admiration. H, visible for the first time, is a stark contrast. An ill-shaped lump of dull muddy maroon.
The Eternal turns to her. Fe, he renames her, I expect more.
***
Like a black hole in the back of her mind, The Eternal’s words absorb Fe’s inner light. To compensate, she bathes in the glow of countless stars as she celebrates their birth. She greets fellow travelers, invites them to journey with her. Sometimes they travel together eventually becoming one. Other times, Fe’s new friend drifts away, lost to vast space. Fe continues to glory as the universe is created, each twinkling corner a new mystery. She mourns each supernova, lamenting the brief life permitted to stars as she is abused by their shrapnel. Heedless of the physical and emotional pain her relative proximity to the explosions causes, Fe wishes she could witness the unique beauty of each star during their short interval.
When stars begin to cluster, painting swirls, corkscrews, and discs across the black canvas, The Eternal names them: Galaxies.
He turns to Fe who interrupts before his words can bite.
“Father, why do I disappoint you so?”
Meteor, he renames her, do you see the miracles created by your brethren? Each more spectacular than the last.
“Yes. They give me much joy,” Meteor responds, reverently.
And what do you offer in return?
“I am witness,” Meteor tries to explain, “for what is the purpose of beauty with no one to appreciate it?”
Beauty is its own purpose.
Confused by her father’s perspective, Meteor decides to seek the council of a star. Stars are spectacular in her eyes, and The Eternal clearly prefers them to her. She wants to know why they choose their short, stationary lives over the ever changing, awe filled life of a traveller. Surprised she hasn’t made the acquaintance of a star earlier, Meteor swings around a passing friend and launches herself toward the nearest twinkle: Sol.
***
The first indication of her proximity to Sol is a slight tug. Meteor hasn’t felt its like since the day she was born, when, with the help of the electron, she tore herself from the writhing chaos and was released to the universe. The memory is unsettling. She will have to take great care not to become trapped here.
Proceeding with caution, Meteor perceives another familiar, not quite as distant sensation. A tingling glow on her crust. A memory consumes her, pummels her with debris and radiation. Shears off her armour. Agonizes her with heat as the first star was born. This suppressed memory, she realizes, is the reason she only admires stars from afar. “Surely they don’t endure that violence after birth,” she assumes aloud, comparing it with the brief trauma of her own birth. Meteor is currently quite far from Sol and, while it is reminiscent of blazing heat, her current sensation is mild. Even pleasant. Pushing the memory aside, swallowing her hesitation, Meteor continues.
“Pardon me.” Meteor hadn’t realized this area of space boasted so many fellow travellers. Nor had she realized quite how large she has become. She has always accepted her body for what it is: A vessel through which to experience the universe. Her size, shape, colour, and luminosity don’t matter. It need please none but herself, and pleased she is.
“Turn back while you can,” a small rock calls to her as it whizzes by, gone before she can reply.
“Turn back?” she questions aloud. “I can’t do that. I need to speak with Sol.”
“You’ll be sorry,” another icy traveller hollers as he too speeds past.
Meteor carries on, and soon is, in fact, very sorry. For, as the traffic increases, she is unable to avoid collisions. Her mass tears through more than a few comrades, leaving dust and pebbles in her wake. Warmer now, one might even say ‘hot’, liquid water forms on Meteor’s surface for the first time. She is crying at the unintentional, but irreverent nonetheless, destruction her passage causes.
Through a blur of bending light, she observes a swirl of debris ahead. Spinning as it coalesces, forming a massive collection of molten rock. Its pull is strong, Meteor’s curiosity stronger still, but she resists, concentrating all her kinetic energy on the path ahead, keen to speak with Sol.
Struggle as she may, Meteor is caught in the force of the whirl. She is pulled off course. Spun until she loses her sense of direction. Drawn toward the ravenous maw of the hungry sphere. She screams, straining every atom of her being in one final, fruitless effort.
Meteor is spent, resigned to her fate, horrified to be devoured, when she hears The Eternal.
Planet, he names the forming celestial body, then, upon seeing Meteor, interrupts himself; What are you doing here? The Eternal plucks Meteor from her demise. Heedless of the past hurts he caused, she surrenders to him, limp and wasted. Asteroid, he renames her, I ask again, what are you doing here?
“I have questions for Sol.” Asteroid’s voice is weak. The Eternal draws her close to his ear. “I want to ask about the meaning of life. The universe… Everything.”
I have answered those questions.
“Yes, you told me your answer,” even in her weakened, fearful state, Asteroid is true to her nature. “I want to know Sol’s answer.” The Eternal nods, beginning to understand the nature of curiosity.
Seeing her somewhat restored, The Eternal gently releases Asteroid.
“Father,” she calls him back, “may I ask a favour?”
What is that, child?
“Will you please…” she gives herself a little nudge without moving a budge.
As you wish, with The Eternal’s soft exhale, Asteroid resumes her journey, Theia.
***
Under The Eternal’s thrust, Theia travels faster than before. She witnesses the formation of more planets, even dances through the ring system of one, without fear of being caught in its orbit. She waves and whoops while gliding through a belt of fellow asteroids, barely hearing them cry, “You’re going the wrong way!” Theia is beginning to fear she will soar right past Sol before they can talk when she sees it.
Through her millennia of travel, Theia grew skilled at projecting flight paths. Surprisingly, (because no one is quite sure how she does it) she learned to use the gravity of other travellers to steer, turning many a collision into near misses. What she foresees now, at the speed she is travelling, is unavoidable.
Her trajectory crosses the orbit of a boiling, newly formed planet, and their timing couldn’t be worse. Being the size of a small planet herself, the impact will certainly be devastating. Perhaps lethal. With no recourse, no way to divert or protect, no time to plan or reflect, Theia smashes into the planet.
***
She sleeps a long time, dreaming of stars and galaxies, constellations and black holes, matter and dark matter. All the things she has witnessed. All the experiences life has gifted her. She sleeps for a long time.
Before she wakes.
***
Opening sleepy eyes, yawning contentedly, rocking in a soft embrace, she wakes.
“Good morning, sleepy head.”
The voice is unfamiliar, warm, comforting. It feels like home.
Luna, The Eternal bestows her final name, I’d like you to meet Earth.
Still awash in the comfort of sleep, Luna mumbles a greeting.
The two of you have quite a future ahead. One I never saw coming.
This shakes Luna from her stupor. “Something The omniscient Eternal didn’t see coming?”
Yes, my child. I never understood your curiosity. Didn’t expect you to explore the universe, ask questions, or defy me so thoroughly. Luna is shocked as The Eternal lists his disappointments. I never once thought your failure to meet my expectations would result in such wondrous creation.
Luna and Earth exchange a mystified glance. The Eternal explains; Your partnership has started a cascade of events unique in the universe. The tilt of Earth and the seasons it will create. The lunar tides that will wash across her. The body tides that will shift her land. What you will create, my children, I will name ‘Life’.
Filled with awe and wonder, Luna reflects, “That will be a dazzling adventure to witness.”