by Stephen Stonewall
(NASA)
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It was a comet strike that helped Aster Nought to remember.
He had spent forever – or so it seemed – locked in his world, secure and happy with the images and visitors that filtered every day through his temporary cache.
The cometary disaster had filled the subconscious minds of most visitors. Although it had struck their planet on its far-side, the tragedy had filled many citizens with an emotive state known as dismay, and those primal feelings had swept like ripples through their connected hive-mind. Such thoughts shouted across to him as his visitors passed through his psych-interlink like starships in the night.
A small comet had devastated the western continent of Marlex and had shattered the crystal lattices of Jalan. Millions of beings had died.
Something about the tragedy, overwhelming in its cruelty, had paradoxically been exciting and fulfilling to him. Most of all, it filled his mind with a thought that seemed to come from a forbidden, forgotten and past life:
I am a human.
Once it had expressed itself in his consciousness, the thought burst through into his frontal storage tanks and sang across his communications channels for all his world to hear:
I am a human!
The words themselves seemed meaningless, devoid of tangible meaning in themselves, but they satisfied a primal portion of his cortex. He felt happy. He had somehow defined a part of his individuality.
I am a human and my name is Aster Nought.
His companions and visitors regarded the statement with a touch of surprise, and perhaps a modicum of confusion. Still, they floated peacefully in their methane atmosphere like before, and continued to dangle their thoughts through the electro-magnetic connections that joined him to his world.
Some time later, his closest companion visited his mind.
Aster Nought, I understand you made a new statement yesterday?
Yes, Lothar Nex. I am a human.
I see. Tell me…what does that mean..?
He was unsure, and his uncertainty was blatantly apparent in the transparency of thought-share. Lothar Nex nodded in polite sympathy and floated away, her thoughts attending to other matters and interests in other places across the planet. Above her, the suns shone blue and red in the misty sky.
No, I do not know, Aster Nought decided firmly, but I will find out!
Day 2.
He was a micron on a mission – but the stored data of his world did not seem to help Aster Nought much as he searched for an answer to his quest.
Human…human….human…?
Repeatedly, the info searches came up blank: there is no such word in this data bank…please define unknown word….error; please restate search parameters…
Aster Nought allowed a primal urge of emotive feeling to surge through his being, feelings that he recognised somehow as frustration or anger – as though such words themselves had meaning.
He had tried all the common public access facilities, and even a few historic archives. None came up with anything useful, although somewhere, one data search came up with an unhelpful and dead-ended similar word:
For ‘human’, suggest ‘humour’…an archaic word for one of the emotive states attributed to a mythical creature...
He eventually decided that further data searching would be fruitless. He had visited all the worthwhile archives – except, of course, for those of the Sacred Memories of Thalax, the holiest and most secure archives on the planet, in which was stored the ancestral memories of past oceans. He was unlikely to ever gain access to those records, and he frankly doubted the likelihood that they would contain anything helpful to him.
Aster Nought decided to adopt a new approach. He would pursue a logical track of lateral thinking: if news of the comet strike had awoken a long-forgotten memory within his mind, perhaps further research on this comet might yield further results.
He began to investigate news of the comet strike; he became insistent and aggressive in his search. The others in his world were content to share their knowledge. After all, this was the biggest news to happen in many generations.
The comet was a rock that had fallen from the sky. It had come from a long way away, from the depths of space. It had fallen to ground and caused great destruction – as would anything that fell from such a great height. It was alien, unknown and intrinsically dangerous – proof that the Universe was a violent and dangerous place.
Aster Nought absorbed this information with the complacency expected of all those within his social sphere of influence. Against such a hostile Universe, it was comfortable to accept the womb-like shelter that was offered by the communal pools of methane and ammonia.
And yet, from the depths of his synapses, Aster Nought finally knew his own history – and perhaps his destiny.
I am a human, dangerous and alien. I fell to ground like a comet in the dim memories of our planet.
The announcement was spread by synaptic link across the pools and oceans of his planet. The ripples were as significant as any literal comet strike –
– and the truth set him free.
Day 3.
Aster Nought, you know all who have assembled here?
His cortex explored the tingles of synaptic electricity which flowed curiously through his psych-interlink.
Yes, I recognise many here; some close associates –
– he shared a sparkle of shared energy with the friendly presence of Lothar Nex –
– and some, I recognise from their psychic signatures, as friends whom I have not yet met from across the planet –
The hive mind buzzed with approval.
Then, Aster Nought, it is time to commute and discuss your recent announcement. What causes you to make such a proclamation?
I am uncertain – but I am convinced in the truthfulness of what I proclaim. I am a human who has fallen to ground…
Please explain!
I cannot. But surely truth requires acceptance, not understanding.
Aster Nought, you are one of us…
Yes, but I am more than that. I am an individual!
The hive mind buzzed with discussion, conjecture, dissent and final agreement.
Aster Nought, it is time that the fluids of truth washed through your soul. We concede to the will of the Universe and accept that the time has arrived…
With that, a great portal was opened. Aster Nought realised that he was receiving new data from an ancient source – the caves of the Sacred Memories of Thalax itself.
Yes, Aster Nought, you are a being known as human. Absorb these images from your home world, orbiting a nearby star across the vast distances of our galaxy…
His synapses filled with visions, sights, sounds, tastes and smells of an ancient world. A mix of green organic life forms filled the landscape, and swayed gently in breeze of a strange atmosphere that was filled with nitrogen and oxygen.
Yes, Aster Nought, this is your history. Our planet has lovingly stored this data until you are ready to receive and understand. From ancient times, so distant that the origins are lost in the primal memories of our world and our people, we have waited for this time.
Creatures swam in the fluids and gases of the planet. Other creatures, humans!, constructed great hives that swept the landscape.
A part of his soul was revolted by such strange and alien sensations. But another part of his primal being rejoiced that he was finally home.
You see, your planet existed apart from our own, across vast oceans of space and time, from so far and alien a distance that your planet entered our communal folklore.
Aster Nought blinked and turned off the images.
Then who am I? How did I get here?
The hive mind acquiesced in reply.
Distances between planets are too great for physical travel, Aster Nought. We understand that your soul was transmitted to us in a stream of electronic consciousness…
We suspect your name was somehow a reference to your role as a star traveller, an explorer…although the ancient records have become corrupted by the passage of time. You fell to ground in the deep past of our planet’s memories. We have stored your soul and welcomed it as one of our own. For, upon your arrival, you were adapted to suit our people and our environment.
And my human origins..?
Have been lost – doubly so. For your planet long ago ceased attempting to communicate with ours. We can only conclude that your birthplace is no more.
He was struck by the irony of his situation. He had somehow escaped a planetary disaster by travelling through the ether of space in the mists of past times. Another, newer disaster on his new home world had helped him to remember the skeleton of his cosmic origin.
And so I am an alien, out of place and out of time.
Even Lothar Nex was startled by this statement.
Aster Nought, listen to us! You are human – but you are the new, improved, evolved human. You have survived and adapted, becoming one of our own kind. Surely that is the best identity of all – to remain unique but to be accepted by an evolving Universe?
Aster Nought accepted this wisdom. He now understood his place in his world as through the perceptions of his peers: they respected him as part of their own planet’s history; as a participant and as a pioneer; as a builder of new worlds and bridges. He had somehow crossed the depths of space to find a home – and to forge one.
It was an honour – and a privilege – to be different; to be alien; to be queer.
He was a human – but more. By crossing boundaries and by adapting into something that would now be unrecognisable to his original family, he had evolved into a form of human that would survive across the aeons. By coming to life as an electronic being in the swirling methane oceans of a far distant world, humanity had reached the stars.
And above him, his adoptive suns shone blue and red in the misty sky.
by Jack B. Nimble
“Was the funeral sad?” asked Tom.
Ward nodded in reply, and spoke with a soft whisper: “The saddest day of my life.”
Tom smiled tenderly and squeezed his partner’s hand, “I’m sorry.”
Ward tried to return the smile.
“It doesn’t matter now,” he said bravely, “It’s over now. It’s time for us to move on.”
Tom nodded in support.
They cast one last look at the gravestone. The name spoke softly back at them: Tom Smedley-Smyth, died 2035 CE as a result of tragic accident. Much loved partner of Ward Smyth-Smedley.
Ward let out a sob and rested his head on Tom’s shoulder. Tom reached up his hand to stroke Ward’s face.
“Come on, Ward, let’s go. I’ve seen enough of my grave.”
Together, they moved away, back towards the gates of the cemetery. As they left, Ward sadly reached up to touch a soft spot near his temple. His subconscious memory activator blinked once and shut down his hallucinatory memory recall. Tom shimmered and then vanished, returning to the sanctity of his widower’s special memories.