Fresh Galaxy

By Gustaf Silver

Waking up at night in the middle of nowhere is terrifying. What now? How to push forward when you have nothing but a small light, no food or shelter, don't know where you are or where to go, or even who you are? Worse yet, looking up, not a single star in the sky.

 

What motivates him to do more for himself and for others? How far will he be pushed, and how impactful could his actions be?

 

Be changed by a journey that challenges preconceptions and forces the distant future's evaluation, like in the golden age of science fiction. Is surviving enough, or is thriving the only acceptable outcome?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gustaf Silver
• Release date: Feb 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393094319

Gustaf Silver

Gustaf Silver is a Science Fiction writer from Europe, on planet Earth, focused on exploring critical aspects of life and society and push them to their limits to see which ones might stand the test of time. An avid reader of old classics, it is with ease that he abandons the limitations of our daily lives and finds himself in his worlds and his stories, ready to share his findings, grabbing the readers from the start and pulling them in chapter after chapter. His ultimate goal is to outline the key concepts that will guide humanity into the future throughout his body of work.

Book preview

I

Only a faint red glow came from his left hand, a warm ball of soft light but strong enough that he could see his body. Well, I'm not blind. Could be worse, I guess, he thought to himself, almost amused. He noticed he was lying on the floor and all the rocks around him were the same reddish colour. Some were larger than others, but neither stood out remarkably. Around him, as far as he could see with the dim light, everything was smooth terrain. He wondered if they were red or a result of the only light available coming from his hand. He tried to lift it and saw the arm raising at an impressive speed.

I don't just feel light; I am light, or maybe just powerful, he said.

He could not contain the laughter; he was never the strongest of his friends. That was when a sudden realization struck him as a solid punch. Who are my friends? He thought about who they were for a minute; the feeling they existed was powerful, he could almost see them, but their exact faces, names, anything really, just seemed a tiny bit out of reach. Another punch. Who am I? The urgency of understanding the situation finally appeared as if hidden in plain sight. Not even his name. Did he have a family? Wife? Children? Where were they? Were they worried? Were they even alive? How long had he been in this dark place? Questions but not a single answer. Everything seemed to be there, in the back of his mind, just unreachable. A wave of calm washed over him as if putting the last piece of the puzzle.

I was on the floor; maybe I fell and hit my head. It will all come back in time, I'm sure, he thought, confident that it was the most straightforward and most plausible scenario.

Hello? he yelled.

Holding the glowing red ball up high, squeezing it provided a bit more light. The material was solid. The extra force must have acted as an instruction requesting more light, which the ball offered, giving him the confidence to stand up and analyze where he was, find help and end the nightmare he had woken up in.

Standing up didn't help; he was as clueless as before, only blackness around him as soon as the red light ended. For a moment, he pondered how weird that building was, so tall he could not see the ceiling, so vast that he could not see any walls, doors, or windows. Not even a reflecting surface could hint at the end of the open space, yet the floor was made of bare rock, not rubble lying around. It was the solid ground, just regular soil. He squeezed the ball as much as he could. The faint red light turned bright enough that he could no longer look directly into it but was now able to see a vast distance around him.

It finally had enough range for him to realize the truth, there was no ceiling or walls because there was no building. He was on the surface of a tiny planet, staring into nothingness in every direction. Looking up, not a single light in the whole sky.

II

The weight of the realization made him sit down; he needed a moment to think, but where to start? A barren land stood before his eyes, not a single distinguishable feature, no mountains or valleys. A sight very different from home, or at least that is what it felt like, in part hoping that home was in a much more enjoyable scenery, in part hoping to jog his memory around trying to find a clue. Was he from a place with huge mountains covered with snow or from a warm place, from a crowded region, or did he live in seclusion? All the effort gave him nothing, not a hint, not even a slight inclination to choose one over the other.

Even the sky... he said disheartened.

He seemed disappointed that not even the sky would help him. No constellations to help find the way, he felt alone in the entire universe, and nothing around him made him think otherwise, but would it be possible, he wondered. The answer came to him much more swiftly than expected. Yes, yes it is. It was his inner voice speaking in a lower registry.

Ok, my sanity is giving in, he said.

He stared at the ball in his open hand, again emitting only a faint and warm red glow. This is  a globe of stabilized positroniums, he thought, unaware of why he possiable such knowledge. How could he remember such an explanation and not understand it himself?

What, exactly are stabilized positroniums? he asked aloud.

He breathed and closed his eye, the knowledge flooding into his mind. He knew that they were systems of electrons and positrons brought from parallel bubbles of space, bound in pairs and allowed to annihilate each other on-demand to produce energy that is partially siphoned to allow for retrieval of the next generation of particles to keep the reaction viable while the sphere converts the rest into usable heat or electricity.

That simple, huh? he mocked. I’ll have to remind myself to keep the questions simple; I wouldn’t want to bore myself to death by mistake. he chuckled.

That adventure into the information buried in his mind prompted a couple more tests, requiring less technical expertise, or so he hoped, so first, he tried to figure out the planet itself just by the hints, or lack thereof, at least derive size and composition. It was apparent that the world was tiny, a moon, perhaps? No, too small even for that, so he would leave it at an asteroid, and that was good; asteroids can contain a lot of different materials in a small space, and that was the best news since he had awakened, even though he hadn’t realized that yet.

He decided to move to the second test to his knowledge, a question he was trying to avoid

Can vegetation be grown in these conditions? Can crops be planted? he asked.

One word spilled into his mind, no.

III

As he sat there, his hand opened, and the ball rolled to the ground losing even the faint red glow and gaining a cold blue light, which touched his face as a refreshing change of pace prompting him to lay down, if he was going to just wait for the end, it might as well sleep to make the time go by faster.

While his body and mind were coming to terms with the fact that, whatever the circumstances might have been, his arrival on that small asteroid was going to put an end to an utterly unknown existence, he wondered, had it been a full life? A happy one with those unknown friends and the possible family, a profession, a purpose? Was he the type of person who liked those things, or maybe he never wanted the hassle of a family or the frustration of learning a profession's skills? Was he a traveler, an adventurer, seeking fame and fortune, hellbent on finding the end of the universe and perhaps had found it? Maybe a convict, exiled to the furthest reaches of existence by some tribunal seeking justice for some hideous crime? Or even a small offense with an unnecessarily harsh punishment?

As time passed, it became evident that he wouldn’t let go of the doubts and could not come to terms with the lack of memories, let alone sleep.

If I don’t know who I was, I will be whoever I want. Obviously, I was a man of science, and a good one at that, one of those who receive awards. I wouldn’t be surprised if I developed the damn energy balls as well. Someone had to. Oh, and I want to make friends and a wife. He paused for just a couple of seconds. I mean, I have a wife, a beautiful, loving, caring, funny wife, and... He stopped speaking, losing the confidence from before. Something inside me wanted friends and a wife, was I, earlier, sensing the friends I wish I had instead of real ones? I’m starting to think I might not have had such a great life after all. Might as well be dead already; why prolong the agony?

Could that be the answer? Could he be dead? It would fit the fact that he was not hungry or had lost his breath the entire time despite not having any breathing equipment, but why would the dead's guardians give them advanced energy devices?

He reached for the ball, and as soon as he touched it, the red glow returned, signaling that it was responding to the touch and was, by far, the most reactive thing in the entire landscape just by changing colors.

Why do I have this? he yelled.

No one replied, but his mind answered with a sudden burst of information that overwhelmed him, causing him to fall unconscious and again, letting the ball fall to the ground, which regained the light blue color as if waiting to be picked up. This time, regaining conscience was a swift process, like suddenly waking up seconds before the right bus stop. It came with a surprise, something he was asking for a long time, and now that he had given up, there it was, a piece of inescapable information, a location in space, and a burning desire to reach it.

IV

As if burned in the back of his eyes, it wasn’t just a set of coordinates; he could feel the direction and how impossibly far it was; he even knew how long it would take at various speeds the values were bordering the insane.

It can only be a mistake; what use could I possibly have for this kind of information, alone on a tiny asteroid? Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me, maybe I’m already insane and haven’t noticed it, maybe it is just a delusional dream.

It was the knowledge, it was understanding, and it was feeling the direction and destination whenever he closed his eyes. He tried to put off these thoughts often, but whenever he tried to focus on another subject, why blue light and not orange or green or even yellow or why don’t I need air, the result was the same and the issue faded away very quickly. The location, that monumentally far location, stood above all thoughts as if taunting him but, in fact, only haunting an already troubled mind.

Can it be done? he asked.

The answer surprised him, not yet.

How can I do it? he said.

His mind was still, no answer.

Excuse me? How is this a personal question? he yelled.

It seemed like a very factual and concrete question; all the criteria he had learned about how the hidden knowledge in his mind worked were met, and yet, the result was unexpected. Unless they were not met, could it be that the how was, in fact, a personal question? Sure, the travel path had a strong individual component, and even the equipment used could have unique features in aesthetics and design but were these details enough for him not to get an answer? Was he supposed to come up with a way to get there, even if the destination was absurd?

The word yes tumbled into his mind.

Yes, but to which question? He waited.  So, I’m supposed to reach an impossible destination with no guidelines, no help, no tools, new knowledge about subjects that I don’t know I need, and a ball? Am I supposed to be glad and thankful my arms and legs are not tied down?

V

A lright, I’ll play along, just to get a grasp of how hopeless my situation is. First, it doesn’t matter how far I need to go because I have no way of getting there. I cannot build anything without materials or tools. Not even a stool, I have to sit on the cold floor.

His eyes opened when he described the floor as cold. Other than noticing the difference between the ball and the floor, there were no other frames of reference. Neither felt incredibly hot or cold, just different values.

So, tools, made of rocks? Sure, that will get me far. Metal tools then, this is an asteroid, and some of them have metals right on the surface as they don’t suffer erosion from the atmosphere, he said while grabbing the ball with his left hand to get some light and started digging with his right hand. The topsoil didn’t stand a chance, and soon a small hole, knee-deep. It was evident by the different colors that there were mixed elements.

What is the most efficient way to separate these elements with what I have available?

Since he requested the most efficient method, there could only be one answer; it would be factual and technical, it seemed impossible not to get answered. The answer came to him soon enough, he would create a big pile of compressed waste material in the form of a ramp, and a small, loose quantity should be put on top of the ramp. He would squeeze the ball without losing contact, press it against the small amount, and wait for it to melt down the ramp, cooling at different speeds according to the separating elements.

This process of separating impurities was rudimentary and the solid blocks that started forming were still full of mixed elements. The process would have to be repeated so that, after each retry, the ingredients were more and more refined and isolated.

Using what was available, maybe it was the best he could hope to do. He repeated the process using only the solid chunks of what seemed a specific element at the end of the ramp; after many attempts, a product much more refined could be found at the end of the ramp, unlike the crude twenty-second attempt. The next step was to exchange the original ramp with one made entirely of this refined and reliable material to eliminate the extras picked up during the cooling process. Soon enough, he had a way to refine several elements from rocks and dirt into bars and was even able to ascertain which elements they were to group them for later use.

Again, the priorities needed to be established. Was the hassle of always having to be touching the ball enough to make him do something about it? No, not yet; infrastructure was more important; the more complex applications would require an organization level still out of his reach. First, simple tools and with them, a work table with a stool and those, bigger furnaces able to separate ever more efficiently the elements, tools to dig faster, and larger quantities needed to be created. Whenever he required specific knowledge, the information appeared intuitive, adaptable, and direct to his use case. Rewarding him with useful things so that he could work on his purpose and mission. Even the previously constant reminder of the location was now very sporadic; as long as he was working towards that goal, his own brain tried to make his life more comfortable.

The time came, great stocks for dozens of different elements neatly organized on shelves, he sat down.

How could I free myself from the ball? he asked.

Two paths presented as the fastest candidates, either build a new power source or make batteries he could charge and be free. At the same time, they lasted, he decided on the latter as an original power source could prove a very complicated process that needed both his hands. He first asked for a simple battery design but, thinking about its limitations, decided to go further and settled on a simple nuclear isomers battery; it should be an increase of hundredfold compared to the first suggestion. It took a while. It was his first really complicated process. Even though he knew every detail, every step of the process, the materials' delicate nature, and the components needed to be handcrafted proved a real challenge.

The moment he had been waiting for had arrived, he pushed the ball against the slot created with a shape that maximized contact, and in seconds the battery was full. He sat at his work stool, flipped a switch, and a bright white light illuminated the work table, the moment was right for a break had he felt tired, working for countless hours, maybe minutes, or days, the feeling of time passing was not something really felt, a task was to be performed, and it would take as long. It needed kind of like feeling tired, two things he didn’t feel or even miss.

VI

No longer limited by his own self-doubt, it was time to plan ahead; the tools made from metals refined dozens of times, even hundreds of times for specific cases, where minor impurities threaten the final product's quality. The stacks of ingots were supposed to be a proof of concept that ended working a lot better than expected, and now was time to stop testing and start doing.

Starting with the traveling, one of several elephants in the room, certainly the biggest. He pondered his options. What Kind of ship should I build? What kind of propulsion? How will I keep it working if things break down?

He needed solutions.

Should I really build a spaceship? I may have all the materials I need right here; why abandon them? A big ship is not so different from a tiny asteroid after all, he theorized.

Having decided to transform his asteroid into a ship, the next