Heart of Ceres

By Tuomas Vainio

This science fiction novel was written by a non-native English speaker and it has not been properly localised. In fact, as its author, I do not see how it would be anything but a baby's first science fiction novel, a learning experience to improve upon.

If the above disclaimer did not scare you away; it is a story told from the perspective of Sophus Rhiner, a man resurrected some 100,000 years into the future. The novel delves on how he tries to come to terms with his survivor's guilt and what kind of man he should be in a world of nigh infinite possibilities.

It is an opportunity to hear his origin story from the first breath of air he took to the moment his eyes gazed upon stars never seen before.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tuomas Vainio
• Release date: Dec 16, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310808104

Tuomas Vainio

I write, I read, and the typos are still there. It is the crux of my life. Anyhow, my published works should not be overpriced and in some outlets you might be even able to set your own price!

Book preview

Heart of Ceres

Tuomas Vainio

Heart of Ceres. Copyright © 2014 Tuomas Vainio.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without a written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Please contact the author at [e-mail].

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Epilogue

Chapter 1: The Cycle of Death and Rebirth

My eyes flashed open, it hurt. Breathing hurt, lungs, muscles – all sore and aching. My stomach: empty. I could move somehow, but then again not really. It felt cumbersome, slow, like walking upstream underwater. What my eyes could make out was that something green surrounded and bound me, some kind of strange substance thicker than air, yet felt as if it was not truly there. It was neither cold nor truly warm, its whole existence something I thought should not be. My eyes hurt – my body ached, and a lone word dawned to me – 'air' – I had not breathed. My body convulsed, as I tried to lash out in a fruitless effort to free myself of that strange alien bondage. I gasped for air that was not there. I felt the green substance slither its way down into my mouth, down into my throat and lungs. I tried to cough, spit, but the effort was naught and in vain. I panicked, and finally succumbed to my doom. Yet it seemed that my lungs were working. My chest moved as I inhaled and exhaled, and although I did not notice it at the time, I begun to sob uncontrollably. I tried to utter a word, any word, but heard none. I felt tired. The pain slowly numbed the rest of my senses, and my eyes fell shut like the curtains at the end of a play.

. . .

My eyes reopened. The sensation of pain was gone. And as far as I could see, I was still bound within the strange green substance that was neither liquid nor gas. As I extended my left arm, I discovered how I could barely see the tips of my fingers. When gazed down, my knees were practically swallowed inside the green mist. A peculiar thought of curiosity popped into my head, and I pulled my right leg against my stomach, and shortly after I repeated the same to my left. I should have fallen down, hit something – yet I remained seemingly inert. I tried to reach out for any surface by trying to wildly lash out my arms and legs. I did not manage to hit anything beyond my own body. I tried it again, and once more before the effort begun to seem utterly fruitless.

Once I had given up the effort to secure a surface in hopes of gravitational pull, my shoulders slumped as I released a sigh that went unheard even in my own ears. With nothing else to do, I began to list what I knew of my state:

"1) I can breath,

2) I do not feel particularly hungry anymore,

3) The green substance is translucent to some extend, yet I cannot identify where it begins or ends,

4) There is apparently no gravity, and I appear to remain still in mid air,

5) There is no sound,

6) Pinching yourself still hurts,

7) And for all intents and purposes, I am apparently naked."

Given the entries on the short mental list, I supposed it was reasonable enough to assume that I was alive, although within some strange green gel of unknown origin, location, and purpose. The only other possibility implied death, and some strange notion of afterlife... So, I found myself wondering whether I had died or how had I ended up where I was. A question that prompted me to close my eyes and think; try to recall anything that was not related to my bondage in the green substance.

. . .

It was a summer, I was in a city, and the sun was hot. The wind's breeze did not produce a cool relief, only a feeling of intense humidity. Wet and hot. I was alone, not truly alone as the river before me was filled with boats full of drunkards speeding back and forth with their loud dance music of the day. The street cafeterias and restaurants behind me were packed with people, drinking, screaming, laughing, crying out their hopes, dreams, fears, and nightmares. And then there was me sitting alone on that bench by the river Rhine, a place I did not call nor recognise as my home. I remember staring at the tattered clouds spread across the blue sky as the sun glared down with that dwarf planet running off course. I occasionally took glances at my phone. Hectically I tried to give one last call or send that one final text before the battery died, but I suppose so was every one else. My calls had not reached, my messages remained unsent, and all web pages greeted with a simple message: 404 and how the page I was looking for could not be found. Frustrated, I recall deciding to take a simple nap as the human race was no more than four and half hours away from extinction. Yes, the world was ending, and I decided to take a nap. It seems so humorous now, but there really was not anything else I could do to aid myself or anyone else. The plate was going to be wiped clean whether we liked it or not.

But how did it all come to that? Was the next question for me to ponder. There was a 'comet,' bigger than any asteroid in the solar system, a massive black block of ice and dirt with a diameter of over 3243 km. It sped through the solar system, curved around the sun and produced a tail that left the mankind in awe of its marvel. Not soon after the media published the estimation for the orbital period of 'the Greatest Comet,' marking it as roughly 10 313 years. And of course, the headlines were filled with somewhat sarcastic remarks such as; the extinction averted until mankind would pull the plug from itself. I folded the morning paper down, and I took a big bite of my rye bread sandwich with cheese, slices of mettwurst, lettuce, cucumber, and tomato, laid out in that specific order, and drank it down with a chug of milk from a blue coffee mug.

I turned off the vintage styled radio that was playing a tune I did not quite fancy, and finished the online payment for a plane ticket half-way across the world and two back. I gazed through the white framed kitchen window, beyond the red, black and, green coloured rooftops of nearby buildings and stared at the blue sky with nothing but handful of lone scattered clouds, and of course, the twin tails of the Greatest Comet. It seemed like a nice day. It turned out to be a great day, and so did the days that followed. After all, I was flying to get the love of my life to live in my, our home at long last. Not to mention how the day before I had also just heard how I was going to be a father. While the pregnancy wasn't something we had planned for, at least not for the next five years, it felt there was no better time for it.

I did not have a reason to complain, my face was stuck with that wide happy grin new fathers usually have after they have gone past their initial stages of utter fear and terror. Generally, I felt so ecstatic that I did not mind even when I stepped onto the biggest and smelliest pile of dog shit you could imagine. I was not even bothered when the recording of this funny event was uploaded for all the world to see without my consent. All that I had on my mind was that I was going to be a dad, my love would find a new home here, and we would make it work no matter what to the happily ever after.

A week later, I had just arrived to Amsterdam Airport Schiphol, a necessary stop in order to switch planes. As I was departing the plane to reach the next flight, I noticed how the flight's captains and the attendants seemed nervous somehow. But as nothing else seemed to be wrong, I did not really pay much attention to it, possibly they had made the mistake of drinking the complimentary coffer or something.

Once out of the plane, the people were walking forwards as expected, making noises, making purchases of the far over priced air-port goods. Everything was as anyone could expect it to be. Everything was fine until people began to stop and look at flight screens, seeing every single departing flight cancelled. And then there were the announcements: All departing flights are cancelled. Please head to the luggage area and proceed to collect your belongings. After you have collected your luggage, please head out of the airport. When outside, you will be greeted by the airport personnel who will guide you to your buses that will take you to your free of charge hotel accommodations. Unfortunately the airport Wi-Fi is not in working order due to technical problems, these will be solved as fast as we can.

It was repeated again and again, with the language switching after every repetition. As my flight plan had been to just reach my beloved and then fly straight back home, carrier luggage was all the luggage I had with me. My laptop with its charger and some books to read during the flight. The weather outside was sunny and warm, bit strange for Netherlands. I was guided to a bus that took off once it was filled to the brim, and finally stopped by a hotel somewhere in the city of Amsterdam. The bus driver was silent, and with the buss emptied, he simply drove off. Within the hotel, we received the keys to our rooms and a short introduction to the rooms, which was followed with ominously grim encouragement to hook up into the Wi-Fi, or to open the TV and switch on any international news channel after first making ourselves at home.

Inside the room, I opened my laptop, hooked up onto the Wi-Fi, opened my browser, and I was hit with the news. Globally, the borders between the nations were either closed or to be closed. All methods transportation were placed under further limitations. The world had been placed under martial law by a decree by the UN. The reason for this strange action was brief, and blunt; the world was about to end. The asteroid, the Greatest Comet had simply flown close enough for its gravitational pull to affect Ceres' orbit and that had caused the dwarf planet to be flung off orbit from the asteroid belt. It was on a collision course straight to Earth, a collision that was estimated to happen after but four days. As I browsed for more information, the discovery of Ceres going missing was publicly credited to North Korea, where an amateur astronomer had first noticed that the dwarf planet was off orbit. The irony was not lost how the one of the world's darkest and poorest dictatorship was the first nation to tell the whole world of its impending doom. It even sprang forth an internet meme of North Korea finally possessing a truly dreadful weapon of mass destruction. Fifteen minutes later, I recall how the news were updated with the line; All hope not lost. The plan had been to use a series of carefully timed nuclear explosions to slowly adjust Ceres' trajectory so that the dwarf planet would simply flow past and become caught within Earth's gravitational pull, and therefore finding a new orbit as Earth's second moon. The disaster could be averted.

Cynical as I was, I thought that: obviously, the world leaders had known of it for much longer time since everything that was happening was happening too fast, and too well organized. But, all I wanted to do then was to call my beloved. When the call finally connected, it wasn't like our usual phone calls. It was hectic, rash, filled with tears and frantic laughter. Most importantly, she had received a notice of her flight ticket being moved day early, and she had dashed and took that last flight towards my home. She was literally on the last civilian flight in air, and how she would arrive in another city in roughly ten hours. She was flying home, all while I was stuck in entirely wrong country. I hanged up the call for a moment to make sure my father was there to pick her up. A while later we talked again, and we just talked until her battery died. I thought how there was not a sound more haunting than the beeping of a disconnected call. I think I kept repeating the words; I love you. – even after the beeps had long ended.

I set my alarm to her estimated arrival, but I could not sleep. I just lied on the hotel bed with my eyes open. When my alarm finally rang, I got up, and looked at my own ghastly visage in the room mirror. My phone rang, the call was from my dad's phone. And upon hearing her voice, my weariness seamed to disappear and I felt relaxed at long last. Her voice gave me strength, I had faith how things would work out. When the call was over, I finally fell asleep. I dreamed of pleasant things; how the earth would get a new moon, and I would live happily ever after with her. I dreamt of the day when I would teach my kid how long ago there was just one moon lighting the night sky.

The next few days passed peacefully. I was on the phone whenever I could, and when I could not; my days passed exploring the city, sitting in the cafeterias, visiting museums, and it almost felt like a holiday. But much like everyone else, I too ended up purchasing some dry and canned foods among bottled water, and stored the goods into my hotel room. No one gave a second thought about it, I suppose everyone just wanted to have something stored just in case. There were no riots, and everything remained orderly.

The news were filled with details regarding nuclear weapon transportation and the launches into outer space. Animations on the detonation progress were shown. It was made certain that mankind would successfully determine a new path for a celestial object, and it was ever strengthened with the mantra of how we would survive. How we would not go extinct. How we would all live happy ever after. And as I heard the odd radio channel, I believe Gloria Gaynor's 'I will survive' had risen to global fame with greatly renewed vigour, with various artists having their own takes with the song.

We had the first set of detonations, first in the series of thirty three. Ceres' trajectory was slightly adjusted, and all seemed in accordance to the plan. The following detonations followed the form, one after another; everything went along according to the plan laid out to the public. At least until the detonation number twenty eight, the icy outer layer of Ceres was cracked, releasing a maelstrom of ice that threw most of the nuclear weapons off. Some of the missiles detonated too early or too late, some of the missiles were flung off, and some made the cracks much worse. All things said, the dwarf planet simply did not withstand the nuclear barrage. It cracked like a jar of glass hitting the floor with its pieces flying in all directions. While there was some small comfort on how majority of the new asteroids would never hit the Earth. Nevertheless, some of them would be caught by Earth's pull. Estimations showed how considerable number of the risk group would begin to orbit the planet until they would either burn in the atmosphere or hit the surface over a very long period of time.

Yet it was the minority that spelled doom. The hundreds of meteors still caught on direct collision course. With some luck most of them would burn upon the entry, but there were roughly hundred meteors over one kilometre in their diameter. The twelve largest pieces were over twenty kilometres in diameter. The dinosaurs had been wiped out 65 million years ago with a single meteor possessing an impact bolide of at least ten kilometres. The remaining nuclear weapons were launched and detonated in space as an attempt to shield the Earth from these largest meteors. But the fact remained how the mankind would not, could not expect to survive for more than twelve hours, all those the tiny fragments that remained on collision course would see to it.

Two hours later I had my one last phone call with my beloved. It was the last time I heard her voice. I should remember what we talked, but I do not. I think we were crying. I think I kept telling how much I loved her, until my phone died. When I finally got back to the hotel and found my charger, I could not get a new call through. Not a single message across. Thus I was then all alone, far away from anyone who cared, or even knew me. There were no riots, the mankind seemed to remain in a state of shock.

There were plans to use fighter planes and anti-air weapons to destroy as many meteors as possible. But the expected scale of the destruction to become was simply too great, there was no hope left. We were all dead. Some thought that now that mankind was facing extinction, people would look inwards and try to make peace with their lives. Yet, as I looked outside of my hotel room window, I believe most people headed towards the river Rhine, it seemed that extinction was merely another reason to have one last party. Greatest party there ever were, or ever would be ever after – literally. Everything went orange, like as if Netherlands had won the world cup in football. But the celebration was not for me, so I found myself a bench by the river, I sat down, and waited for the eventual end of the world.

I did not wake up with the first meteor impact as I had thought, it was the shriek of a sea gull. As I looked above, the dwarf planet was no longer just one shiny speck of light in the sky, it had split into dozens, hundreds of specks of light.

Fire begun raining down on earth. There was a flash of light in the horizon, and then all around as the large and small meteors burned their way through the atmosphere. Some exploded in the air, some did not. The party was over. People were taking cover. Fleeing. I saw some missiles take off and a pair of fighter jets speed by. There was nothing I could do, so I stood up on that bench, and started to repeat a mantra of a kind; No, I won't back down.... I won't back down... I do not know for how long I repeated it, but eventually; I saw how a fragment from an exploded meteor was flying straight at me. I felt the tears falling down on my cheeks as I was about close my eyes for the last time.

Except something bugged me, drew my attention away, how I heard a question repeated in a tiny voice: "Waar is mama? Waar is mama?" It was the voice of a little girl, barely five years old, light brown skin, black hair, and dark brown eyes. It was too late to try and run away, but I still instinctively ran towards that kid, I managed to grab her shirt, I managed to throw her as far as I could, all in one strange instinctive fit for survival.

My ears were filled with buzzing that more closely resembled roaring. I turned my neck towards the piece of meteor hurling towards me. It hit me. It swallowed me. Based on the split second that I saw it; it seemed like a molten block of amber the size of a small bus. My skin burned, smouldered, dried and peeled off. My throat turned as dry and rough as sand paper. I could neither see nor move. There was no air to breathe. The pain was indescribable. I screamed, or at least I think I did until my howled for air that was not there. The pain disappeared as my mind grew dark, and then there was nothing more.

...

I blinked twice. My memory told me I had died. So I looked again around at my afterlife: stuck floating in that cursed green gel. I was wondering why it even was green, after all, the meteor certainly had not been green. But as I had nothing else to do than soak where I was, I supposed it could have changed its colour after cooling down, which would mean the ancient Egyptians had had it right when it came to after life. I suppose that would be something worth of a chuckle, were I in a room filled with all my earthly possessions and mummified pets and family. But was not; I was stuck, awake, aware, and feeling slightly too alive, and apparently with nothing but my memories and thoughts to keep me company. It did not take long to feel how it was not so pleasant idea to be stuck with all by yourself for all eternity, especially without at least football to draw a face on.

My shoulders felt heavy. My mind filled with questions. "Honey, where are you? What happened to you? Are you well? I miss you. I want to hear your laughter, feel your fingers tracing my spine... and see you bite your lower lip, just once more. It is not too much to ask, is it?" There was no reply, there was just me in the green. Had it been five minutes or a millennia? I closed my eyes and begun the strenuous effort to raise my palms in front of my head. I tried to close my hands into a fist as fast as I could. The effort required made it feel like minutes had passed. But it was done, so I lashed out my left in two slow jabs, and followed it up with a hook. It did not feel right. So I shifted the position of my hands, and threw two jabs with my right, and an uppercut with the left. It still did not feel right. But as I had nothing else to do, I kept repeating the punches and switching between southpaw and orthodox stances. My muscles grew sore and I was not surprised that they did, I had never boxed before or even punched a sandbag. Yet I found that simple repetition of left, left, right - switch stance; right, right, left - help me form some sense of time. I could count the movements of my own body. As I forced my body to punch again, and again; for a brief moment of time it helped me to forget everything.

Eventually, my arms stopped their movements, and my fists opened. Thoughts crept back into my mind, and I did not know how to feel. Whether I should have screamed and cried, or yelled and laughed? I was exhausted, and my thoughts went back to a summer day when I was thirteen. I was laying on my back on a field of grass and staring at the blue sky filled with tattered clouds as a dogs tail occasionally whisked at my nose. My eyes closed, and weary as I was, I fell asleep dreaming of a time long past.

My next wake up was not as pleasant as the one before. As usual, there was no sound, but there appeared to be a large metallic ring slowly spinning around my neck. It had blinking white lights to it. The time a single light took to glow was roughly the same amount of the time as it took for me to say 'one.' And when a light vanished, it took roughly the time to count to ten for it to reappear. I turned my head, and I saw two such rings circling around my left arm. Those rings seemed to have some manner of spikes protruding on the outer surface. Possibly twenty each. I whipped my head to the right; and saw how the same held true for my right arm. A realisation dawned to me, one that did not make situation any less terrifying, I could not move my body neck down. I was paralysed. My arms and legs were extended like those of Leonardo's Vitruvian Man. As I tried to peek past the ring circling around my neck, I saw faint blinking lights around my legs, and two much larger rings circling over my chest and stomach.

The rings stopped, my chin was lashed upwards against my will, and soon I found out how the only movement I could still do was but to blink my own eyes. My heart rate jumped. "What is going on? What is happening to me? What is going to happen next?" – were the question bouncing through my head.

Then I felt it begin; one or perhaps two hundred spikes penetrating through my skin one at a time. I felt how those spikes struck through my skin and flesh until they were grinding against my very bones. I could feel those spikes inside my lungs, heart, tearing my muscles, piercing my gut, and nearly blocking out my throat. It all caused my nerves to boil and burn in sensation of pain. I do not know if my body was shaking or not, but I knew that my body had become a human pin cushion.

The green gel that had remained inert regardless of earlier my attempts to move it, begun to move. It swirled just like a whirlpool. For a while I wondered if I would be sucked down along with the drain, but my body remained unaffected. A pin cushion in the eye of the storm. The green gel above me begun to shine, to turn lighter, until abruptly my head was no longer submerged within it. I sneezed and coughed the green gel out of my system, and gazed towards the lights beaming down on me.

At first it was hard to focus, but soon I noticed the ceiling had somewhat round shape, and how there were five circular lights in a circle within the centre of the ceiling itself. The walls possessed a silvery hue, and the green gel reflected light as if it were nothing but water. I could hear myself breathe, and I was shocked to realise how much I had missed that sound. That feeling of air rushing inside your lungs fuelling my heartbeat. But I did not get to enjoy it for long; my body begun to lean forwards in the frame it was tied to. As I leaned ever further, I noticed how there was green gel pouring out of the metal rings spiked into my arms. The slow rotation did not stop, I simply continued leaning forwards until I was back up again.

Nothing happened for few seconds, and I hoped for the metallic rings to set me free. I was promptly disappointed. Instead my body begun similar rotating ascent sideways to the left that stopped at roughly at the angle 90°, and it was followed by my body slowly beginning to spin around from right to left.

Soon the green substance had been almost entirely drained from the room, and I could see a round drainage hole, and how it apparently closed and opened with a striking similarity to mundane window blinds. And eventually, I was held floating upright once again. I felt the spikes retract from my legs, and apparently those rings floated first down along my legs, and then quickly sped past me and into a dark spot between the lights. The same repeated to the two larger rings. I felt those spikes retract, with somewhat disgustingly squishy-shrieking sound. It felt as if I had skipped a beat whenever one of those spikes got pulled from inside my heart. And as before, the large rings hovered past me. I just wanted it to be over, so I closed my eyes and waited for my arms to be freed. It did not feel as bad as earlier, and finally, my body was hanging lifelessly in mid air by the remaining ring spiked directly into my neck.

I was somewhat terrified of the prospect of having each of those spikes withdrawn one at a time, as it would mean that my body would dangle helplessly as the remaining spikes would either tear open my neck, or something much worse. Thus luckily for me; it was just one shift simultaneous retraction. The gravity kicked in, and my body begun to fall down as I helplessly watched the final ring speed past my head and towards the darkness between the lights.

My left heel hit the floor first, my butt come down second, followed by my right elbow, and finally the back of my head struck on the floor. As I laid there disorientated, I at long last took a deep breath, and said the words; I guess this means I am alive. I am alive.

I remained lying down, staring at the five lights. I touched my chin, and felt the ruggedness of a beard. I do not think it had ever been so long before. My hair seemed to have also grown way beyond its last cut, as I groped it with my fingers. I still found it little moist after the green gel.

I sat up and I looked around. The surfaces of the room seemed metallic, something in between stainless steel and silver in their hue. It did not feel too cold, possibly a few degrees above 25°C. And as for the general shape as I turned my head around, the room itself was round while its walls, ceiling, and floor curved beautifully into a perfectly symmetrical oval shape. At least as far as I could tell with my pair of eyes. And as I gazed down, I noticed how I was sitting on top of the sealed sink hole. It took great effort from me to trace the seams of the blinds.

I stood up. I felt little wobbly at first, but then my muscle memory seemed sort itself out and I maintained my balance. For a while I built courage before taking my first steps towards the silvery sheen of the wall, to gaze at my own reflection up right. Based on the image, apparently my hair had been freely growing for few months, as had my nails. I stroked my hair back, and notice how there was no scar on the left corner of my forehead along the hair line. There should have been one, I got it when I was a kid. Other than that, it was the same pair of blue-grey eyes, same pointy nose, same lips, cheek bones, and generally the same face as before. After slapping my cheeks few times, I left my reflection be and gazed again at the symmetric walls surrounding me, and especially at the dark spot surrounded by the five round lights.

The ceiling was too high. I knew it straight that even if I had jumped and there had been something to grab hold of in that darkness, my hand would have just waved the thin air roughly fifty centimetres short. Therefore, I simply stood in the middle of the room, slowly turning and looking around as time passed and rolled onwards.

My trance of slow movement was broken by a faint swiping sound behind me. I turned around, and was startled to see a faint white line cut through the wall. This white line slowly widened and opened into a path leading to a round corridor that twisted to the right.

I approached it carefully. I suppose it was the loneliness and nakedness coupled with the fact that I did not know what to expect anymore – that was slowly turning my mind in the direction of paranoia. The corridor had white walls with somewhat clean, yet plastic appearance to them. I peered into the corridor before me, and concluded that at least I was not suddenly beheaded.

Once I took the steps out of the room, the doorway closed behind me before I could even react. What I found rather interesting was the fact that the door was not straight, but curved so that it matched the shape of the room itself. I touched the door momentarily, and the white surface turned semi-transparent showing me the empty room on the other side.

A nagging feeling of embarrassment tickled the back of my mind as I thought how someone could have been watching me on the other side as I had stared at my own mirror image while leaning towards the curve of the wall. But as there was no apparent way to open the door, hence it was nothing but a dead end for me. I had other no choice but to carry on walking and see what lied in wait at the end of the corridor.

As I walked, I kept sliding my finger tips against the wall. I could feel no dust collect on my fingers, only the smooth, plastic feel of the wall. My thoughts lingered on the topic of where exactly I might be headed or what I might be facing. After all, anything could have been waiting at the end of the corridor; perhaps a carnivorous insectoid alien with acidic blood, an endless maze for me to run, if not two mice and a flock of singling dolphins.

What was waiting for me at the end of the corridor was just another door. A door that looked like a door. It was straight, and it had two parts that were obviously supposed to slide away from each other to allow passage. The only notable difference to it was that it did not automatically open before me. Hence, accompanied with a gulp, I extend out my hand, and leaned forwards with my eyes shut and until the palm of my hand touched the white surface of the door. The two sides simply slid apart as the result and formed a round solid brim at the end of the corridor. There were no visible holes or cracks as you could expect sliding doors embedded to the wall to posses. If there was such a space between the door and the wall, it was neatly covered with something seemingly elastic, something that formed the uniform white brim.

I stepped into the new room and found it shaped like a half-circle, the straight wall was behind me. The ceiling and floor were of the same white plastic as the corridor. But the outer edge of the circle, it was glass, one large piece of glass curving along the entire circumference of that half-circle of a room. I took half-steps, occasionally forgetting one or two, until I was against that wondrous and gigantic glass surface.

I could not believe what I was seeing, it was Earth. Almost the entirety of the European continent lied before me. While it did not appear as green as I would have expected it to look – the view was more breathtaking than any picture or video clip would have lead me believe. The moon shone in the distance, and it seemed to have lost most of its pearly white surface. What had once been its dark grey craters were now a mixture of green and blue surrounded by regions and segments of lush shades of green and yellow. Impossible. But as long as I could believe my own eyes, I was staring at a terraformed moon that strangely appeared far more alive than the Earth below it.

It was then that I took another look at Earth, peered deeper into Earth's horizon. At first I thought the Northern Europe was simply not visible due to the distance – but the longer I stared the harder the truth became to deny. Northern Europe was simply gone. It was as if someone had used a gigantic ice-cream scoop and just dug it out, leaving nothing but circular sea filled crater to remind what had once been there.

What followed inside my mind was a sudden realization of certain facts; everything I had once either loved, or known, was now long gone. I would never see or hear her again, there would be no kids, no Sunday mornings breakfasts spend with the family. No growing old together, no witnessing your child's birth or first steps, no bicycle trips along the river. My siblings, my parents, my friends were all gone as well. It was all gone, it was as if those things had never existed in the first place. An eerie thought, but as I gazed at the world before me, my mind told me that it had already be so long that they practically had never existed in the first place.

My hand trailed the glass window as I collapsed to my knees. I felt great crushing weight on my shoulders, weight I could not begin to withstand. I rested my forehead against the glass as I begun to sob. My beloved... My beloved... My... – I should have had that scar. I trailed the spot on my forehead where it was supposed to be, and I recalled precisely where and how I had gotten it. How I had tripped and I bumped my head against a big rock while running amok with the other kids in my youth. But it was not there anymore, and the only reason why I do not have it because that meteor had swallowed my body whole. It had burned my skin away, yet enough must have been stored and preserved that my remains were later discovered. The dead cells of my body had been brought back to life, and my skin re-grown.

Another name of my past popped up, I was no different to Ötzi the Iceman/the Similaun Man/the Man from Hauslabjoch. His body had been preserved and mummified within ice. After the discovery of his body, the cause of his death had been determined, along with his last lunch simply because it could be done. Ergo, I probably had been brought back to life simply because it could be done.

Oh my beloved... I remembered her. I remembered more than what I could process. I relived my memories, while staring blankly out of that window. I went through years upon years of memories, and I was happy for all that I remembered. The happy and the sad moments. But something was missing, something central in my mind map of memories. The very core, the central piece, her name was gone. It was simply gone. I remembered affectionate nicknames everyone used of their beloved, but not her name. What is that name? I whimpered to myself.

The sorrow of loss started to slowly kindle away before the flames of anger and fury. I blamed arrogance, human hubris, for my fate to live the rest of my days without knowing the name of my beloved, my one true love, my moon and stars. I had been given a chance to live again, yet I found the price too high, too inhumane to bear. The loss of that one name, the name of the one person who had meant everything to me, it haunted me. I was willing to trade anything else to just remember that one name. I needed to know that name to say goodbye, to tell her my affection, to find some peace in the fury and turmoil I was experiencing. But there was no avail for me; I howled like a wild beast, and smashed my fists against the glass, again and again. The skin from my knuckles and fingers peeled away revealing both bone and flesh. My hands soaked in my own blood. I did not feel pain, I just felt angry and empty, so very empty by it all. As the burst of my fury and rage cooled down, I ended up sitting in a fetal position before the glass window. My grim eyes stared into the distance, looking and gazing past the world before me as I knew that the one thing I wanted, was not there anymore.

...

Two days passed. My knuckles and fingers did not look very pretty, and were a bit sore. I suppose I had managed to find some way of coming to terms with the facts before me. We had not made it, and we never would. I reached out my hand against the glass and begun to scratch off my dried blood. I stopped, and for a moment stared at the shape that reminded me of her face. I gritted my teeth as the minor soreness took a turn towards searing pain. I did not recognise my own voice, it was rough, cold, nearly lifeless; Pain is good, it reminds you of being alive – a phrase I had heard one time too many during a compulsory first aid course. There was no question about it, it was yet another useless memory. A lone tear fell down my cheek. I tried to speak, but the words did not come out. My lips and tongue moved, but there was no air, no sound.

I pressed the palms of my hands against the floor and pushed myself up. My legs cramped, my back was sore, but I stood up and managed to stand still. I turned my back to the view on Earth and stared instead at the door where I had came from. As nothing happened, I took few steps back and begun leaning against the glass. I knew that someone had to be observing me. I reasoned; I just had to wait for them to realise that I wanted out, I was calm enough to be let out.

In the middle part of the room, something stirred and rose upwards. The difference between the floor and the raised part was not straight as I expected with a regular round pillar; instead it bent and curved inwards so that it formed a seemingly futuristic one legged table. Once that table stopped its ascent, three smaller 'pillars' rose. One in front of me, and two behind the table. Light flickered in the air on the opposite site of the table. It was as if you had started one of those energy saving lamps, it took a while for it to warm up and reach the optimum brightness. The mixture of static, red, green, and blue light quickly focused on itself until two human figures were sitting neatly behind the table.

Those two human figures seemed to anthropologically originate from India. The man had a goatee and his hair was cut short. The woman had a bowl cut. They were wearing white. Their clothes resembled a mixture of a jumpsuit and a formal suit. There were no ties nor jewellery around their necks. Simply a splash of decorative black. They were smiling, the woman extended her hand, and so did the man. They pointed at the empty chair. Their mouths opened, and I did not recognise the language they spoke in. It was obvious that they want me to sit down, but the phrase they kept repeating made my head hurt. A pounding feeling inside my head that suddenly vanished as their words become clear. I understood them, yet it was the first time I had heard the language they spoke. Please, sit down. The woman said. I sat down, dumbfounded, and for a while we simply stared at each other.

I am Yadva von Braun, and this here is my husband Jaabir. She said while motioning her hand towards the man, who lifted his to wave a greeting. I stared at them silently.

Jaabir continued; I am terribly sorry that we have to use holograms to have this discussion, but due to your earlier outburst, we have no choice but to follow our security protocols until certain formalities have been completed.

How are your hands, are you hungry, thirsty? Yadva von Braun asked with genuine concern in her eyes and tone.

The words and sentence structures were clear inside my mind. Without a question, I knew that I could speak this foreign and strange language of theirs as if I had always known it. Yet I refrained from replying. I simply covered my head to my palms, and ran my fingers through my hair as a sign of frustration. My mind struggled to decide what to do, whether I should ask the thousand questions racing through my mind, or should I rather jump at them and try to suffocate the holograms for what they had taken from me through the resurrection. I fully well understood the futility of the second option. How could anyone grab light with their bare hands? So my gaze returned to the pair and I found them focused at each other, and obviously discussing frantically with someone not in view and without making any sound. I determined that they must have either muted themselves or somehow blocked my ability to hear.

I cleared my throat. My hands are, fine. And I suppose a class of water might not be too much to ask. I gave my best attempt at a smile, yet I could not help how unnerving it felt to use this foreign language for the very first time. Not to mention how I should have felt much hungrier and thirstier after two days of having neither, or for who knows how long exactly.

The focus of the two returned back to me and after a while, Yadva regained her composure and replied: A glass of water, you will have it momentarily. She seemed to be press buttons that were not on my table.

Jaabir continued talking with his rather formal and polite tone; Sir, is it alright if I ask you few questions?

When can I ask questions? I snidely remarked back as I placed my elbows on the table and rested my bearded chin on my thumbs to hide my smirk behind my index fingers. "I guess you could say I have always had an issue with authorities regardless of their intent. But especially so when they are clearly holding all the cards, and I do not even seem to have sleeves on me."

Yes, I believe you have some. And no doubt you've realised that quite a bit of time has passed... since? He was raising his eyebrow, expecting me to finish the sentence for him.

Since I last peed? Ate a muffin? Took a nap? Took out the trash?

She interrupted me; I assure you, we bear no ill intend towards you. In fact, we have your best interest in our hearts here. To me she looked a little bit sad, or disappointed, maybe both. We remained silent for a while longer as the middle part of the table slinked down and crept back up with a glass of water, and a dried blue flower next to it.

Jaabir rubbed his nose before asking; I really do not mean to sound crass, but what I – we – want to know is if you can recall how and where you died?

He made it almost sound like he was asking for mundane directions. I believe I was by the river Rhine, and I think I committed my very first case of child abuse. I chuckled. Just before I got squashed under a big rock. You know, cosmic karma and all that. I watched their eyes flash open, and how they discussed to each others under their vestige of silence. When they finally turned back to me, their smiles were gone. I thought: "They must think I am a monster now. And I am idiot, but at least I can dictate the discussion for a while."

What kind of abuse? It seemed to me Jaabir really did not want to know.

Oh well, the usual.

"The – cough – usual?

Yes. Grab a random kid. Throw her as far as you can. I believe she might have been bruised, or maybe even broken her neck from it. I cannot really tell. As I said, cosmic karma, throw a kid and you get crushed by a big rock.

That is not funny.

But it is. I threw a child, I died. And now I have been resurrected, so all I can do is wonder whether that kid could have been resurrected instead had I not spurred into action? Did she die regardless of my last ditch effort? If she did survive, how long did she live afterwards? What was her life like? Would she thank or curse me? Should I think I saved her or rather condemned her to a living hell? Eh? They did not answer. I picked up the flower, spun it around in my fingers, and gave it a sniff. Its smell reminded me of cinnamon, reminded me of cinnamon rolls. I did not recognise its shape, it had a bell shape, with long and pointy petals coming from within. I cast it aside and drank some of the water. It was cool, refreshing, and I had not realised how dry my mouth had become.

Yadva was the one to break off our silent stares. I'm sorry. We do not know – but what we know is the general living conditions after all notable meteor crashes.

She gazed at him to continue. If you can help us determine more specifically when you died, we can actually determine exactly when you died and possibly even tell what happened to this girl you mentioned.

I sighed. Or how about you do not ask me questions that make me recall what was probably the most painful, and traumatic experience of my life? If you must ask, you can ask it later.

I understand, do you remember what your name is? The hologram of Jaabir seemed to receive notepad with pen, which he soon prepared for taking notes.

I do not. "Yes I do."

Is it alright if we refer to you as Mr. Rhiner? It is a common surname.

I suppose. "I guess Ötzi would have been called Ötzi."

How old are you?

Obviously very old. Right, something around twenty-five I guess.

What did you do for living?

I was... I am an archaeologist. To be honest; I never lead an excavation and all I have ever really done about it was helping to dig up and catalogue some arrow heads. – Humph. – It is bit ironic in a way, an archaeologist becoming an archaeological discovery himself. I couldn't help but to smile at the thought. "But truth to be told, I was nothing but your average IT-grunt doing the laborious and mundane. But I did find an arrow head though, and never got an ounce of credit. I think I can provide unique perspective to your past, as it is in a way my own... future."

Jaabir smiled and looked to Yadva who appeared to be somewhat ecstatic. This is marvellous. You'll have no time fitting in, this is, this is a truly wonderful... I cannot wait until you see the–

And Jaabir cut in; What my wife is trying to say is that that... Earth... is the biggest archaeological dig in the Empire. You could say that we have nothing but archaeologist, doctors, historians, and scientist on board.

Dear, you're not giving your regiment enough credit.

It is but a standard regiment, in the safest corner of the Galaxy. He touched her hand, and they shared a moment of loving stares and understanding, with their eyes filled with mutual respect. It made me feel nauseous.

"Okay, humanity has an empire in space, and Earth is an archaeological dig site. It is not an alien concept, but what to expect? How mad has the world gone? Just how long have I been