The Man Who Came From Nowhere

by Rod Hamon

part 2 of 4

Vega, an intensely blue star, has cast its eerie light on mankind since time began. The Pyramid builders, the shepherds on the plains of Mongolia, and sailors on the oceans had all gazed with wonder at this jewel of the heavens.

Revolving around this star is a barren world: Vega’s lone planet. The star’s intense light bathes the stark surface of the planet with its blueness; the light is caught in glittering points upon the harsh crystalline rocks. An icy wind blows between the inhospitable mountain peaks, a dreary wasteland upon which nothing grows.

The headquarters of the 137-Z Alliance is concealed beneath this rugged surface. It is this deception, this most unlikely location that has protected the Alliance from warring elements for generations.

Tens of thousands of years have elapsed since mankind first ventured from the Earth to explore and colonise this spiral arm of the galaxy. Although mankind’s technology had advanced beyond anything imaginable, its inherent lust for power had remained. The Alliance was therefore formed to bring order to Sector 137-Z; a task that had at times threatened its very existence.

But it was not the prospect of war that had summonsed representatives here today. They met in a vast cylindrical amphitheatre. In the centre, a plinth hovered in mid-air, and on it sat the Supreme Commander of the Alliance, attired in a white ceremonial garment. An intense beam of white light shone down on him. A hood shielded his face.

Behind him, in a semicircle, sat members of the Supreme Directorate of the Alliance.

A respectful silence fell upon the gathering, signalling the meeting was about to begin.

The Supreme Commander stood before them. His carefully chosen words echoed around the immense chamber. “Representatives from all areas of Sector 137-Z, we thank you for being here. The purpose of our gathering is to discuss a situation that requires our collective intelligence. We call on you to give your attention to the details of a predicted catastrophe.”

The speaker waited for his words to die away before continuing. “Our civilisations now occupy every star system in this sector of the Galaxy, but we must not forget our beginnings on planet Earth.”

The speaker continued. “We have received news concerning Earth. Scientists on that planet calculate that an eruption of gargantuan proportions will occur soon. Their measurements of the magma forces warn that the situation is critical. The ensuing eruption, when it does occur, is likely to destabilise the planet, sending it spiralling into its mother star.”

He paused for a few seconds, and then continued. “Earth’s government has appealed to the Alliance for help.”

There was a buzz from the audience.

“Earth is, of course, an insignificant speck in the Galaxy. Nevertheless, it is the opinion of the Supreme Directorate that we should try to prevent this tragedy.”

The Commander looked around and then continued. “As you know, the thermal energy within planets usually diminishes with time. Therefore, what is happening to Earth is puzzling. Because this phenomenon has not been encountered before, Earth’s scientists have a dilemma. At this stage, we have no solution either.”

A flashing blue light indicated that the representative from the Bellatrix star system wished to speak. Permission was granted and his holographic image appeared. The little man spoke with an irritating high-pitched whine.

“My learned colleagues, while we of the Bellatrix System have no desire that planet Earth be destroyed, the fact of the matter is that we have no way of preventing it. How can we possibly discover a solution to a problem that has eluded us for millennia?”

The voice of the Commander responded forcefully. “What has made our civilisation supreme is its spirit of unwavering determination. This is inherent in our species!” he shouted. “We must never give up seeking solutions to the needs of the Galaxy and we must not give up now.”

“I may have a solution,” came the timid voice of a representative somewhere near the Commander’s plinth.

“Who speaks?”

A blue light flashed and the Commander looked down. “Representative from the Capella star system. You are granted permission to speak.”

The voice of the man showed he was nervous. His holographic image, when it appeared, confirmed that the young man was ill at ease. He fiddled nervously with his hands and hesitantly searched for the right words.

“Learned members of the Alliance... I... I thank you for listening to me. My name is Harlan. This is indeed a great honour.” He hesitated for an instant, then his shaky voice continued: “To solve Earth’s problem, our best option would be to find someone from that planet, someone who has studied that planet’s seismological forces.”

The little man from the Bellatrix system interjected. “Are we missing something here? Have we not been told that Earth’s government has come to us seeking help? Clearly this means they don’t have anyone to solve their problem.”

“Yes, but, if history had been different, it’s possible a solution could have been found,” Harlan responded. He looked around as murmurs of impatience came from the listeners and raised his voice to be heard.

“We’ve been working on the problem since we first learned of Earth’s dilemma and have analysed the life paths of that planet’s inhabitants going back many millennia.”

The image of the irritated little man from Bellatrix appeared again, shaking his head and waving his arms about impatiently.

“But how does this offer a solution?”

Harlan spoke again. “Learned members of the Alliance, I seek your forgiveness for my hesitation. Please allow me to try and answer the question.” He took a deep breath.

“My team has systematically searched back for individuals who had the mental capacity and an interest in seismology. The most likely candidate was a boy who once lived on Earth. But that was a very long time ago, long before the first galactic colonisation.”

“Even as a small boy, he showed an exceptional interest in volcanic forces and how to control them.”

“But did he discover the information we need?” barked the Commander.

“That’s the point, you see. People in those primitive times were prone to accidents, because they were not always able to foresee dangers. The person I refer to died while still in his youth.”

There was uproar. Harlan shouted again, attempting to be heard above the noise.

“A thorough study of this person’s brain records indicates a strong likelihood he would have made the discovery.”

The image of the little man with the irritating voice appeared again. “We’ve just been told that this person died. What is the purpose in discussing what might have been? This is not getting us anywhere. Can we move on?”

The Supreme Commander interrupted. “Representative from the Capella star system, what are you suggesting?”

“What I am trying to say is this: if we could prevent this person from having the accident that killed him, he would very likely make the discovery we require. My proposal is that we go back in time and make a change in the life of one individual: this small boy.”

Shouts of disagreement came from every part of the amphitheatre.

The Supreme Commander raised a hand above his head.

“The representative from Capella is surely well aware of the decree regarding time travel. In no circumstances is time travel technology to be used, because of the potential for a chronoclast. You are surely aware that some changes to the past could wipe out the future completely. Your solution is therefore not an option.”

There was silence.

A blue light flashed to the left of the Commander.

“Who wishes to speak?”

This time no hologram appeared, just the crackly and intermittent voice of a man. The urgency in his voice was unmistakable.

“This is Earth calling! We appeal to you to help us! We are desperate! Things here are deteriorating rapidly. Is help on its way?”

“We have difficulty hearing you, representative from Earth, but you can be assured, a rescue plan is being considered,” the Commander replied.

“Being considered? We need help now! There’s no time for drawn-out discussions. In every city on the planet, people are marching in the streets, demanding a solution. We have transferred some of the population to another planet, but most refuse to leave.”

The man coughed and seemed to be fighting for breath. “The sulphur fumes... everywhere... choking. We can’t last much longer. Billions will die if help doesn’t come quickly. Please help us!”

The Commander spoke again. “We will, of course, help you, but you must convince people to evacuate the planet. We believe we have equipment that can deal with the problem, but we cannot risk doing anything whilst people are still there.”

“We will do our best, but...” The crackly voice ended abruptly.

The Commander looked around, appealing for ideas, but there was silence.

After some minutes, the holographic image of Harlan reappeared.

“Supreme Commander, I believe my solution is all we have.”

The Commander stared, his face rigid like stone.

The representatives listened as Harlan spoke. “Colleagues, I am aware of your fears about time travel. Two millennia ago, when we first discovered this technology, we learnt the consequences of a chronoclast and therefore banned its use.

“However, you may also recall that such changes do not always result in a chronoclast. Some just die down and fade, like ripples on a pond. We are now able to calculate such consequences with complete accuracy.”

Shouts of objection came from the audience.

Harlan raised his voice: “It depends on the magnitude of the change! Please listen! What I am proposing is a minor change. We need to act now, if we are to save Earth.”

Harlan spoke again. “I can assure you there will be no serious consequences from this change: there will be no chronoclast.” He looked around, shook his head and sat down.

The Commander rose to his feet and gestured the audience to come to order. “Esteemed colleagues, we have before us just one solution. But in order to test it, we must break a cardinal rule of this Alliance: a rule that has existed for generations. We must decide now whether to take this action or risk the lives of billions. What is it to be?”

From far away, the Earth looked much as it had done for millions of years. Its cloud-covered sphere rotated slowly on its axis. But, as Harlan’s spacecraft got closer, the catastrophe facing the planet became obvious. What had appeared to be clouds was in fact the smoke from hundreds of volcanoes. Molten lava poured like rivers into the sea, creating a roar of superheated steam.

The population had now been transferred to another planet. Harlan’s team looked down from their spacecraft hovering a thousand kilometres above the Earth. Four large resonators that resembled artillery cannons pointed down at strategic targets.

An incorrect setting on any one of the resonators could result in a chain reaction leading to the annihilation of the planet. It was therefore essential they wait for the ground-based party to descend and take up their position on Earth.

On a region of Earth once known as the Pacific Rim, the internal volcanic pressures were building up as the tectonic plates shifted. If a solution to Earth’s predicament were not found within hours, the surface would erupt in an explosive event that would bring an end to the planet.

The capsule transporting the ground-based party detached itself from the spacecraft and descended through the smoke and haze. It landed in a region of Earth well removed from the area of greatest volcanic activity.

Carl, the leader of the team, stared out of the window. “Looks like we’ve only an hour at most.”

Adam and Thomas nodded. The choking sulphurous fumes were now penetrating the capsule, making breathing difficult.

Thomas had been selected to make the journey into the past. His assignment was to prevent the death of a boy named Zac.

Thomas prepared for his departure. Nervousness showed on his face as the canopy was pulled down over him. He peered through a small window at his colleagues making the final preparations.

It was quiet and comfortable in the enclosure. The strain of the past few weeks’ preparation was taking its toll. He was ready to doze off and closed his eyes.

“Can you hear me okay?” barked Carl into the microphone.

Startled, Thomas was jolted back to reality.

“What? Yes, I can hear you,” he replied.

“Remember, you only have fifteen minutes to do your stuff and return; not a second longer.”

“Fifteen minutes for you, maybe. For me, a few years.”

Carl was too busy for small talk. “Just don’t forget the critical date: November 11th 2008. If you forget to activate your implant that day, you’re stuck there.”

“No chance of that,” Thomas replied. Safely tucked away in his pocket was a slip of paper. On it was written, ‘Chrnclst 08.52, Nvmbr 11 2008 Zc Smms.’

Carl turned to the control panel. “One minute to activation. Systems check.”

“Check,” replied Adam.

“Fifteen seconds.”

“Commence start sequence now. Increase flux density.”

Thomas’s face remained visible through the window for a few seconds, then slowly faded and disappeared.

Adam stared at the empty window where Thomas’s face had been and said: “He’s probably there now.”

Adam glanced out the window eyes staring widely. “Carl, there’s something I think you ought to see.”

Carl’s jaw dropped. Gaping cracks were forming in the ground only a few hundred metres away. Jets of superheated steam shot into the air as the ground split apart.

“How much longer before Thomas is due back?” asked Carl.

“Nine minutes.”

Just then, a powerful earth tremor shook their capsule and the lights flickered. The two men struggled to breathe; the smell of sulphur burned their nostrils.

“I don’t think we can hang on that long!” Carl shouted, his eyes riveted on the red glow in the distance.

“What the hell’s that?” Adam screamed.

“Looks like molten lava, and it’s coming this way!”

Another tremor struck them, this time more intense than before.

The synthesised voice of the computer sounded a warning: “Exit sequence commencing in five minutes and forty seconds.”

“Thomas won’t make it, Carl. We’ve got to get the hell out of here!”

“Gotta wait for Thomas. Can’t just leave him,” Carl responded.

The synthesised voice of the computer sounded another warning: “Critical alert; evacuation sequence commencing.”

“No! Wait!” Carl shouted. “Override evacuation sequence.”

The computer responded in a monotone: “Response: negative.”

Carl checked his instruments. “Thomas, where the hell are you?”

“Commencing evacuation now,” reported the computer.

“Just one more minute! One more minute!”

Just then the engines started and the capsule slowly lifted off, then accelerated away to join the orbiting spacecraft.

Just seconds later, Thomas appeared. The unexpected accident in Zac’s time had almost prevented him from returning at all.

Agony showed on his face as he gazed up at the departing capsule. He knew shouting was useless and just stared, as the craft grew smaller then disappeared in the clouds.

He turned to look around, the flames mirrored in his eyes, the skin of his face smarting and the heat from the ground penetrating the soles of his shoes. He coughed as the poisonous fumes entered his lungs sucking the breath from him.

“But I did it!” he shouted, and then coughed deeply. He took a deep breath then shouted again. “I prevented Zac from being killed!” He held his hand to his mouth and coughed again and again.

Sensing danger, Thomas spun around to the sound of crackling. A group of fir trees behind him had burst into flames as waves of molten lava flowed beneath them.

He tried to run but couldn’t. There was no way out. Everything shook violently and the cracks in the ground widened becoming impassable chasms. His eyes were sore from the smoke. He struggled to see: everything was a blur.

A burning ember landed on his shirt. He screamed in pain choking and gasping for air but there was none. Thomas’s legs gave way. He collapsed in a heap. Everything darkened.

* * *

Proceed to part 3...