This story I originally wrote in 2017, and once upon a time I might have published it to a long defunct or deleted twitter account. It was inspired by the asteroid ‘Oumuamua, which if you recall was an interstellar visitor which was discovered in the summer of ‘17 and made it’s closest approach to the sun in October of that year. I believe I wrote this in November.
Interestingly—it’s a little slice of my mind at the time as well. I was not in a great headspace, and I had just recently begun RCIA to enter the Catholic Church. I was wrestling with some big ideas and you can see signs of that in this story.
This won’t be a series—just wanted to share something since I found it and was thinking about it.
They deposited me unceremoniously on the rock. It’s a small asteroid on an exit trajectory from my home system--they discovered it and thought it would be a fitting penance for me. Not to kill me, but to leave me to die here. I’m not sure how such a distinction is important. This rock doesn’t even have an atmosphere, I’m either going to freeze, starve, or suffocate, after a disappointingly short period of time. Maybe they want me to suffer.
The suit they gave me is bulky, so righting myself, especially in such low gravity, is troublesome. By the time I stand up, I can barely distinguish the thrusters of the shuttle from the stars in the background. There’s a frigate somewhere out there that was willing to ferry my judicial accompaniment. Soon there will be a bright flash of light--the last light before I die--as the frigate jumps back to the system, leaving me, finally, alone.
I examine my funerary raft. It’s gravity is sufficient to keep me firmly planted, even if I were to take a running leap I’m sure I would fall back to the surface. Maybe I would orbit a few times before landing. It’s small though--small enough to circle over the span of a day, by my estimation--or whatever a day is anymore. My Sun was so far away that it was almost indistinguishable from the other stars. I was told this rock is sufficiently far to be considered outside the system, now and forever to be a component of the interstellar medium. But my sun is still close, close enough to be the brightest thing in the sky. Despite this, my new home is bathed in darkness. A Night World, and I am it’s King. I chuckled at the thought. In exiling me here, I was given the highest position I’ve ever held--the unquestioned ruler of an entire world!
The flash of light was so brief I almost didn’t notice it--it was like a lightning strike, signaling the final departure of my last human contact. I was alone. It didn’t feel any different.
I contemplated what the best way to face my fate would be. Should I stand, stoically, until my passage to the infernal regions? Should I sit and let my life wash away from me, like writing in the sand erased by persistent waves? I contemplated these things half in jest.
“You fly me out here on your own dime, give me a promotion, and then leave me to rule in peace.” I say aloud. It doesn’t sound half bad when you say it that way. I decide to start walking and explore my little world.
It occurs to me that I have the simultaneous role of King and Conqueror--I can shape this world however I like. As I take my tentative, low-gravity steps over this world, I realize that none of these features are named! The spot where I landed--I turn around to see if I can identify it. Yes! The interstellar dust is brushed aside and clumped unnaturally there. That will be Lords Landing. This path, this will be The Imperial Road. I’ll walk in a straight line around the world and designate it the equator where my footprints fall. I begin to think about how I’ll name the various features, craters, and divots. Why, that plain over there--Mara Regio, for my mother--that plain will be where I build the second city (the first of course being the Capitol, at Lords Landing!). It’ll be a small city--this is a small world, after all. Populated by a small people. I’ll need some minor supplies from home but who would deny a man his last request?
The diversion of naming features had occupied my mind, but I was presently returned to my present situation. They wouldn’t come back--they abandoned me here. There was no one to even hear my last request, let alone fulfill it. A hot rage bubbled within me, and I clenched my fists. Who does this to a person? Leaves them alive, but alone. Whatever my crimes, this was unjust.
“UNJUST!” I shout. “YOU ARE THE MONSTERS HERE.”
My admonishment echoes in my helmet. I stare out at the blackness of space. These vile people I called my countrymen. They would turn their own brother in for the proper bounty. Only one or two crises away from anarchy. They call this justice. For what? In the scheme of my puny, human existence, could they not have given me a quick end? Could they not have accepted my crimes, shrugged me off their consciences and left me to die in peaceful ignominy? And God. What God? Even in the Old Book, God's vengeance was swift and just. He never exiled anyone to await their death. If what I had done was wrong, wouldn’t God have struck me down? A Just God would have. If there is a God, he allowed me this fate, and shares responsibility. I’m sure my mirthful tormentors are enjoying their creature comforts as we speak. Are they much better than I? They will receive their Judgement for their treatment of me.
Yes, I will be judged according to my sins, and mercy dealt according to my punishment. I’m sure God would understand. Yes, God will see that I have reaped what I have sown in this life, and need no further justice in the next. God will show mercy on me. If He inspires the hearts of my captors to return, I will believe, I will follow. Yes, I am sure the justice lies in allowing me to while away these hours in isolation. They surely don’t intend to leave me here. What cruelty. The punishment lies in the BELIEF that I have been left here. But God, O God, you know I remember you. If you send them back. You will get such a devout follower. Think of all the good I can do if you return me. I will serve my sentence. And I will turn to good works, as you say. I’ll eschew all worldly possessions. I’ll be a damn SAINT. You’ll see! Don’t you want saints, God? Don’t you want us to devote our lives to you? I’ve learned my lesson. When I get back, I’ll keep your laws.
I felt better for the thought. Yes, God will accept my offering and return me. Just a matter of time. I continued my walk along the--what was it--yes, the Imperial Road. I tried to turn my attention back to the names of things.
But I was not so easily distracted. It occurred to me with a clarity I had never experienced before that I was going to die. I was in the place, waiting for the time, but I felt it rushing towards me like a train in the night. I will die, and I will die here. I thought about the names that I had already assigned, and my heart tightened in my chest--the names were futile. No one would ever know them. No one would remember me. I’m probably already forgotten from my homeworld. All my family, my friends. I was already dead to them--a distant memory. I sat down. I thought of the people I had known in my life. And… I wept--deep sobs welling up from my soul. I was already dead, in all but the act itself. Gone and forgotten. I ought to end it. Why prolong my suffering, I should take matters into my own hands. My judgement will be the same by the uncaring clockmaker we all call a loving God, projecting our own insecurities into the unknown. I rolled over and faced the ground, positioning my helmet over a rocky projection that looked sturdy enough to break my visor. I would let my life escape into space, not to be contained here in this suit, bound to this rock.
I took the first strike, but it wasn’t a clean strike and my head deflected off to the side, and I was jarred flat on the ground. I realized I was not ready to die. I’m not done with my life! I don’t want to give it up! Not to you! Not now! I hugged the rock I was imprisoned on, my only comfort.
Maybe I wasn’t alone. Maybe God made this pitiful little world just for me. It would have gone unknown, unexamined, but for my exile here. This rock, made by God just like I was, we now get to share our final days together. Share eternity together. There was an eternity before I existed, and there will be an eternity after, and my brief years of life were pain and anguish, and the universe will return me to peaceful eternity. This world, this Night World, it doesn’t experience pain, but maybe it was once part of a vibrant bright world that was torn asunder. It was flung far into space, like me, and left to drift infinitely until the heat death of the universe, or it is absorbed by a star. We are one, you and me, little rock. I will be here for you. Maybe one day we’ll be found. But where you go, I go. We will meet the same end. That’s comfort enough for me.
* * *
“Are we still receiving from our prisoner?” the captain asked.
“Yes, biometrics are still coming through.”
“What’s his status?”
“His oxygen is extremely low. Just higher than trace levels.”
“Show me.” The captain and attendant went over to the panel. The Oxygen meter was almost depleted.
They watched in silence for a few minutes as the meter blinked it’s alarm, and then set to zero. They watched the biometrics flatline, one after another. One man’s last moments condensed to charts and graphs on a screen.
“It’s done then.” The captain turned away and walked back to the helm.
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!
God bless!
Woah! That was intense!