The Arrival

The Arrival

My craft is spinning on a slow axis as it dances closer and closer to the blue orb. The planet itself is grayish-blue in color and is criss-crossed with what look like black stars and lines. The grid is a kind of neural net which surrounds the entire planet and acts not only as a conduit for energy, but also a shield replacing the mesosphere which was destroyed years earlier.

With each turn, the sphere comes into and out of view and each time it looms a little larger. This must mean I am coming in fast. How fast I do not know, as I am not equipped with the skill to read the instruments on my left. The only thing I really need to know is that the purpose of this ship is to reach it’s destination. It knows what to do and when to do it. It was built to be self sufficient that way and not even need a live passenger to monitor or navigate, so I feel confident and safe. Even still, my heart is racing with growing anticipation for this event and as I wait time itself seems to have stopped. The beating in my chest is the only thing I can feel as all other facets of my being were suspended the instant that the planet first came into view.

With the next rotation, I can see that there is no longer any black space around the bluish-gray. The entire window is filled with the sight of it and all at once things change. The craft starts to vibrate, just a little and the spinning slows almost to a halt. The darkness is replaced by a light brighter than any I have ever seen before. Then, the vibration turns into more of a violent shaking and my heart speeds up to match time with it. The temperature in the cabin remains steady, but the light and noise from the outside seem to increase exponentially with every second and though I want to see all that I can of this my eyes cannot bear the light as it explodes through the window. So I close them and just try to feel it. Even with my eyes closed, it is still so bright that it seeps through my eyelids and I brace myself by grasping the bars on the sides of my seat. Though my heart is racing, I try to clear my mind and open it up to remember every detail of this moment. I want this memory, I need to own it, and I focus to mentally record every feeling and every thought. As I do, the light, and sound, and violence surrounding me speed to a natural crescendo the likes of which few will ever get to know.

In an instant the shaking stops and I can only guess that to mean that I have broken through both the natural and artificial layers of the atmosphere. The bright light is now gone and I open my eyes to find the space outside my window filled with a different shade of blue. It’s so light that it almost seems white, but I only have the briefest of moments to try and memorize it and come to terms with what I have just experienced before the next wave hits. The falling.

Though the blue outside my window holds the promise of something peaceful and serene, the speed at which I am being thrown to the surface is anything but. With each micro-second, I am moving faster and faster and this is the first instant that the safety of my present position has come into question. My brain is rapidly trying to recall the basic gravitational calculations I learned as a child but the formulas become soup as my fear takes control. I can feel the pressure from the force of the fall flow through every fiber of my being like a shock-wave. Each second increasing to infinity until finally my body can take no more and everything fades to black.

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About ShySpark

I blog, I tweet, I eat cheeseburgers, and sometimes I take pictures. But mostly I just write poetry...
This entry was posted in Fiction, From the Maker of Dreams. Bookmark the permalink.

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