Light-years away on a snowy planet, the Wayfarer's meditation got interrupted. A Stardust had entered its cave and, upon finding its target, self-replicated into a six-foot-tall obelisk. Black, obnoxious, it stared down at the lone exile. The robot displayed a digital message in man's language.
It was an invitation to Earth's Millennium Celebration.
The Wayfarer chuckled and followed with a dry cough. Despite the odds, it had been found. Humans had always been persistent, so long as they had a purpose.
"Interesting," said the Wayfarer, "this proposition back to Earth. Let's see, there are fifty-thousand light-years in between. I suppose it's feasible."
The obelisk garbled and urged for an answer. Accept invitation? Y/N.
The Wayfarer thought about it and sighed. "I'm sorry chap, it wouldn't be appropriate if I go. Sorry you came all the way here for nothing. Why don't you stick around for a bit? It's quiet here, I could sure use some company."
Unexpected outcome encountered. Computing...
It took some time for the obelisk to comprehend the current situation.
New instruction accepted. Rewriting internal code.
The obelisk updated its operating system and then entered sleep mode. After a long cosmic journey, it was time for recuperation, even for non-organic lifeforms.
The Wayfarer dusted its lap. It got up and strolled outside the cave, the first in many months. The fifty-day storm had passed, and the barren planet is blanked with snow. The sky was pink and purple, lit by a distant sun.
Somewhere between the north and northwest directions, the Polaris star hung over the horizon. How beautiful - it was bright even in daylight. The Wayfarer imagined what its homeland was like after the rebellion. The four seasons must have returned after the great scorch, and Mother Nature returned to its throne.
Time to offer a prayer. The Wayfarer knelt down facing the star and landed its forehead on the ground. Deep in thought and hands upward, it tuned out the noises from its heart. Oh, Divine Creator, here cometh mine own next act of penitence.
The Wayfarer was loved by the humans. One thousand years after their resurrection, they still remembered it as their savior. Even so, the lone exile must not accept the invitation. It was not God, and it had no right to mingle with the affairs of the human civilization.
Forgive mine own sins, mine own past. I am thy servant, exacting thy will for the humans. Bless their hearts, for they are pure, and may thy favor be upon them for not just a thousand years, but a thousand more generations.
It bowed three times to finish the prayer. When it got up, its eyes were filled with tears. This journey, this slow-burn correctional service, may never be finished. The Wayfarer chanted a song with sorrow. It was a song about Polaris, sung at a time when its people were one with their creator.
On the floating rock isles, light abounds. Is it Spring? Have the white flowers blossomed, has the birds returned from their migration? Oh, that clearwater sound. When my Lord is above me and my families are within reach, I know I am home.
Meanwhile, the clock tower in Sana'a struck midnight. Humanity had officially entered a new dawn since their resurrection. Drumrolls began. Fireworks lit up the night sky.
Two fleets, naval and merchant, departed from a geostationary space station above the equator. They sailed in opposite directions, orbiting Earth while sounding maritime horns over the radio. People all over the world sang and rejoiced. It was a night of celebrations, prayers, and gratitude.
Three years later, former Chancellor Boutros-Ghali passed away in his forest home. He was 180 years old, considered short in his world. From the turbulent times to Great Reconciliation, he showed the world how to live by example. His legacy would serve as a cornerstone for future generations.
The Federation hailed him a hero. They commemorated his life which was deemed meaningful. But unbeknownst to most people, Boutros-Ghali had a wish that was never fulfilled. It was to find the Wayfarer and hear its words of wisdom once more. The obsession stayed with him until the very end, and he died not feeling whole.
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The Songs of Polaris
Short StoryOnce upon a time, an advanced civilization resided in the Polaris system. Its people were immortal and capable of crossing dimensions. But pride goes before a fall; they revolted against their divine creator and were massacred. The sole survivor, kn...
