The Songs of Polaris

1. The First Act of Penitence

Six million years after human extinction, the Sphere was about to open. It was on the cusp of ushering in a new era.

Measuring twelve feet in diameter, the translucent object lay dormant in the green-purple meadow. Rays of sunlight slithered past, tracing shadows on its triangular-patterned scales.

Inside, a larger world existed. A world in which space was elastic and time was dilated. A total of 4391 human teenagers resided here.

They were not from wombs. Instead, they were bred from tubes. They owed their genetic make-up to historically important people, such as Plato the Athenian philosopher, Lu You the Song Dynasty poet, Andrew Massena the Napoleonic Empire marshal, Sergei Korolev the Soviet spacecraft designer, Mahtab Farahani the British quantum physicist, and Enuke Nanji the Earth Federation education minister. Together, they were a group of curated talents, collectively raised by the Wayfarer.

Not much was known about the alien. Except it was immortal, and it could bend space-time at will. Crossing dimensions was like a hike in the forest, and it knew all the trails.

Once upon a time, the Wayfarer belonged to a prosperous tribe in the Polaris system. But pride goes before a fall; it led a revolt against its divine creator, lost and was exiled. Others were massacred; it was the only survivor. To return and be forgiven, it must drift through the universe and commit twelve acts of penitence.

Earth was its first act. Once a habitable planet, it fell prey to a behemoth-class meteor. Fire and dust raged through the continents, snuffing out the light of human civilization.

When the Wayfarer arrived on Earth, it envied the humans. They had perished, and their death had liberated them from the perpetual pain so prevalent in this senseless universe. However, returning home was its ultimate purpose. So it scoured the land, salvaged any useful traces of biological materials, and rebuilt the indigenous people.

Time passed. The lab embryos had grown into fully developed people. Mother Nature, meanwhile, had conquered death through eons of rejuvenation.

The Wayfarer was standing next to the scales, eager to make an announcement. Eternal life had not been merciful, as its face looked pale, wrinkled, and sorrowful.

"Children, your day has come. Go and be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the land. Have dominion over the fish and the fowl, and over every living thing that moves upon the Earth."

"Are you coming with us, most beloved one?" asked one of the teenagers.

"I must move on," replied the Wayfarer. "But I will watch you from the distant stars, so you will never be alone. Go now. Be well and flourish."

The Sphere opened with a blaring alarm sound. The teenagers squinted their eyes as they saw sunlight for the first time. Slowly, their pupils adjusted. And a new world was waiting, a world with lush mountains and clear water, roving clouds and fragrant breezes. Hand in hand, they ventured out of the Sphere, ready to embrace their future in unison.