The Final Frontier spaceship glided across the Stygian ocean of deep space; the only waves to meet its bow were electromagnetic, matter, or gravitational in nature — summarily not visible to the eye.
Joseph Hayes longed for something, anything, to break the cosmic motif that whittled away at his senses in each protracted minute aboard that accursed ship. It was day three of the voyage to ZK–Delta808, the most sequestered colony in the quadrant, but already his homesickness was chronic. Joseph couldn’t focus on reading a book or watching a movie because of that acute sense of isolation.
Joseph’s shift was to last two weeks, then he would be relieved by Douglas Meyer (one of 46 crew members). Joseph envied the others in hypersleep; since his shift began — he hadn’t slept at all.
Towards the end of day three, Joseph was resting his eyes when he heard an alarm rent through the length and breadth of the ship. Dazed, Joseph made a dash from his quarters to the bridge.
Joseph stood pallid over the main computer terminal, its monitors flashing red. In the center of each monitor was black text that read, “Receiving transmission from UNKNOWN.”
Joseph was at a loss for what was to be done. In his years of training, he had not been taught the correct protocol for dealing with unknown transmissions because there was no protocol; every transmission source capable of contacting the final frontier was already in the bridge’s database — except this one.
“Aliens?!” shrieked Joseph’s inner monologue; “What else could it be?“
The temptation to wake the others from their hypersleep had crossed his frazzled mind, but that would mean breaching protocol.
Joseph decided to go with his gut, pressing a button on the closest keyboard; “Transmission DECLINED” filled the screens, which then reverted to their default black.
Joseph slumped down in the chair next to him. Regret replaced his momentary certainty; had he accepted that transmission — and it was of alien origin — he would have been the first human to make contact with extraterrestrials.
As he sat there, ruminating on his imprudence, an idea came to him: he would simply trace the transmission to its source. The process was straightforward for a man of Joseph’s vocation; he had located the source in under five minutes — it came from a nearby habitable planet, one excluded from the database of celestial bodies.
Joseph commenced a thorough scan of the planet’s atmosphere. The results were as follows: Nitrogen: 78.08%, Oxygen: 20.95%, Argon: 0.93%, Carbon Dioxide: 0.04%; all trace gases and water vapor were also present.
Joseph was giddy with excitement, for these readings were identical to Earth’s.
Next was the planet’s surface. He detected signs of life immediately — it was bountiful!
Joseph wanted, more than anything, to get a closer view of the planet’s surface. Since it wouldn’t be possible to take the ship off its course, Joseph deployed one of the ship’s probes.
The probe, capable of travelling many times faster than the final frontier, breached the planet’s atmosphere three hours after deployment. Joseph’s bloodshot eyes gathered tears upon seeing the images on the monitor.
The probe captured a panoramic view from the firmament, showcasing elegant valleys, emerald-green fields, and crystalline lakes of royal blue hues.
Joseph wiped the tears from his eyes when his attention was grabbed by what could only be a human settlement. He brought the probe down for a closer look.
Joseph became awestruck; it was not a settlement for humans, but for gods. The men were towering warriors, women slender beauties, and children plump and playful. No matter how long Joseph searched, he couldn’t find anyone who appeared to be infirm or unattractive.
Tales of enchanted lands rushed to Joseph’s mind: such as the Irish legend of Tír na nÓg; the Norse legend of Álfheimr, and the Arthurian legend of Avalon.
Joseph felt the waxing temptation to break protocol and divert the ship to this newly discovered world of wonders, but hesitation held fast.
His hesitation would melt away when the inhabitants on the surface spotted the probe above them and began to make beckoning gestures into the camera. Joseph swore that they were even mouthing his name.
The alarm sounded again, for all but a moment, as the red screens displaying “Receiving transmission from UNKNOWN” were overridden; now, they all played the feed from the probe’s camera. The alarm from the speakers cut out, replaced by the calls of “Joseph!”
Joseph took control of the ship and set a course for the new world. It would take two weeks to get there, and by then the ship would no longer have enough fuel to reach the closest colony.
Leading himself and his 46 crew members towards a mirage is a sleep-deprived, stir-crazy man named Joseph Hayes.
Let the plight of those on board the final frontier serve as a reminder that we may have conquered the stars, but the mind will remain an insurmountable enigma.
