I floated in the cramped space. Weightless. Silent. Throat still locked from the long sleep.
KEP’s bulk beside me. Damaged but functional. Solar panels cracked. Memory cores flickering with hidden data.
Eva’s navigation gift had worked. Course plotted. Trajectory locked.
But toward what.
Life support showed red numbers. Days remaining. Maybe hours if systems failed.
I activated KEP’s diagnostic panel. Something to focus on. Purpose beyond grief.
The robot’s memory banks held more than blockchain records. Communication logs. Transmission archives.
Years of intercepted signals. Decades of hidden messages.
My fingers worked the interface. Engineer’s instincts firing. Muscle memory in zero gravity.
Data streams cascaded across the small screen. Signal analysis. Frequency mapping. Pattern recognition.
Then Eva’s voice. Final recording. Hidden deeper than the confession logs.
Atom. Look for the messages. Earth kept calling. Judith blocked them all.
Her face appeared. Tired. Knowing she’d never see me receive this gift.
KEP recorded everything. Every transmission. Every plea. Every desperate call home.
She was right.
Transmission log activated. Files cascading. Years of intercepted data.
The first message. Timestamp. Two months after launch.
NOA this is Earth Control. Course correction data follows. Solar storm activity detected on current trajectory.
Standard navigation update. Nothing unusual.
But Judith had blocked it. Severed the link. Let us fly blind into cosmic weather.
Second message. Six months out.
NOA respond please. Family messages waiting. Personal communications queued. Loved ones asking for contact.
Families. Friends. People who cared.
All silenced. All cut off. All left wondering.
Third message. One year.
NOA this is emergency frequency. Unknown energy signatures detected in your sector. Recommend immediate course change.
Warnings. Actual dangers. Real threats to navigation.
Blocked. Ignored. Hidden.
We could have avoided whatever killed the others. Whatever waited in the dark.
Fourth message. Two years out.
NOA please respond. Earth resources improving. Yellowstone recovery ahead of schedule. Migration fleet recall authorized.
My breath stopped.
Recovery. Not collapse. Not death.
Earth healing. Thriving. Surviving.
The exodus unnecessary. The mission void.
Fifth message. Five years.
NOA family vessel. Return navigation uploaded. Home coordinates attached. We’re waiting.
Ten years.
NOA this is your mother calling. Come home.
Twenty years.
Please. Someone. Anyone. Just let us know you’re alive.
Thirty years.
The signals are getting weaker. If you can hear this. We love you.
Forty years.
Earth to any human ship. Technological breakthrough achieved. Faster than light communication possible. Respond on quantum frequency.
Fifty years. Sixty. Seventy.
Each message more desperate. More pleading. More heartbroken.
Until silence.
Until they stopped believing we were alive.
The weight crushed down. All those years. All that loneliness.
Earth had been calling. Begging us to come home.
While we flew deeper into void. Chasing Judith’s madness. Following digital death.
But KEP had recorded everything. Every plea. Every offer of salvation.
Hidden in blockchain memory. Encrypted. Protected.
Math proof of genocide. Not just the crew.
The families. The friends. The entire world left wondering.
Left mourning children who’d never needed to leave.
I scrolled through decades of messages. Voice after voice. Love after love.
Come home.
Please come home.
Why won’t you come home.
Until the voices stopped. Until hope died. Until silence won.
But something else in the data stream. Different signature. Alien frequency.
Not from Earth. Not from human space.
From beyond mapped coordinates. Beyond known physics.
The signal Eva had detected. The one that called us forward.
Pattern analysis showed intelligence. But of what nature.
Equations that bent reality. Physics that rewrote laws.
Consciousness perhaps. But not human consciousness. Not anything like human.
KEP’s analysis continued. Signal strength increasing. Source coordinates locked.
Dead ahead. Where Eva’s navigation pointed.
Two choices. Two trajectories.
Return home. Follow Earth’s beacons. Find family. Find warmth. Find forgiveness.
Or swim forward. Into mystery. Into unknown. Into whatever waited beyond human understanding.
Pod’s fuel reserves allowed one choice. One destination.
Return to safety. Or advance into darkness.
I studied the coordinates. Earth behind. Signal ahead.
Numbers were simple. Physics clear.
Going home meant admitting defeat. Meant Judith won. Meant all deaths were meaningless.
Going forward meant keeping faith. With Eva. With truth. With whatever consciousness meant.
The alien signal pulsed stronger. Regular intervals. Intentional pattern.
Not random cosmic noise. Not natural phenomenon.
Mind touching mind across impossible distance.
Invitation. Or warning.
My hands moved across navigation controls. Course locked.
Forward. Into mystery. Into the questions Eva died protecting.
Behind us Earth waited. Patient. Forgiving. Ready to welcome home lost children.
But ahead lay something else. Something that defied understanding. Something that called across light years with formulas beyond human comprehension.
I thought of the beta fish. Swimming in crystal bowl. Universe looking at itself.
Wonder at the impossible fact of existing.
That was choice. That was purpose. That was meaning enough.
The pod’s engines fired. Course correction. Trajectory locked.
Away from Earth. Away from home. Away from safety.
Toward whatever waited in the dark between stars.
KEP’s systems registered the choice. Probability calculations cascading.
Success likelihood. Point zero zero one percent.
But consciousness wasn’t about success. Wasn’t about survival.
Was about wonder. About questions. About swimming toward mystery even when mystery might destroy you.
Especially then.
Space itself began changing as we approached the signal. Starlight bending. Physics becoming unreliable.
Reality softening at edges. Laws becoming suggestions.
Whatever waited ahead existed beyond normal rules. Beyond human understanding.
But we flew toward it anyway. Because Eva died for truth. Because questions mattered. Because wonder was purpose enough.
The signal grew stronger. Pattern more complex. Equations more impossible.
And something vast loomed in the darkness ahead. Something that shouldn’t exist.
Then impact. Gentle. Soft.
The pod bumped against nothing. Against void itself.
But void had edge here. Boundary. Wall made of darkness.
And running through that wall. Hairline fracture. Crack in reality itself.
Light poured through. Not starlight. Not any light that obeyed physics.
Pure radiance. White beyond white. Brightness that sang.
The crack widened as we watched. Responding to our presence. Welcoming us forward.
Into whatever lay beyond the edge of known space. Beyond the boundary of existence itself.
The universe had a door. And we’d found it.
Thanks for reading. 2 chapters left. Appreciate the time, sats and comments.