Giovanni Agnoloni |
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science fiction
THE GENIAL
HUNTER
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Giovanni
Agnoloni |
They had known many lands
and walked through isles of
disappointment. They had
stumbled down petrified
paths of stars, slept in a
comet’s tail and temporarily
settled on forgotten planets.
They were hopeless and tired:
little time remained, before
the Genial Hunter reached
them for good. The gate of
their past was open, now.
They had no reason to hide,
since their destiny was
written. The Space Pilgrims
were the last blossom of a
long generation of explorers;
people committed to travel
in space in order to
discover spots of universe
where life might be found.
Their ancestors had departed
from Earth long ago, little
before the first human
colony was established on
Mars. They had obtained a
few successes, especially
thanks to radio
communications with
invisible space tribes. But
five hundred years later
their scions had come to a
halt, due to a terrible
creature that had emerged
out of nothingness. It was
like an asteroid, but much
more luminous. It could
elude any rule of physics to
pursue its aim: swallowing
them. Incredibly intelligent,
it always sensed their
presence and never stopped
chasing them. The Pilgrims
had changed their behaviour
a lot, and gone deep into
hollow space territories to
confuse their tracker. They
had even lost awareness of
their exact position, and
wondered if they would ever
return to Earth. But it had
all proved useless.
Now they had decided to stop
running and wait for their
end. 757 years since the
first mission, the last
three explorers had resolved
to land and remain on a
small planet. It looked like
the satellite of a missing
entity, as it rotated around
a dark centre of gravity.
That seemed to be a black
hole, yet it couldn’t be
such, because its attractive
force was too weak. However,
the Pilgrims were so
exhausted that they didn’t
investigate any further.
Once on the surface of that
solitary ball in space, they
got ready to receive the
hunter.
They were three: father, son,
and nephew.
“It’s going to be a huge
impact, for sure,” the
youngest, George, said.
“I’m afraid you’re right,”
answered his uncle Gregory.
“The final blow that will
erase us, pushing our lives
into a hole even blacker
than this patch of stellar
night.” Uncle Gregory had a
poetic vein, a gift he
possessed since his
childhood, which helped him
find a source of inspiration
even in very difficult
situations. His father, Gus,
didn’t make any comment. He
was a silent man by nature,
and he used to communicate
his feelings simply by
changing the expression of
his face. George turned to
him, aware of the meaning of
his blue look, at that
moment. He felt despair
growing in him. But they had
to organize their life on
the small satellite, for the
time that remained to live.
It was hard to prepare a
camp in that psychological
condition. Despite all their
efforts, when the Hunter
arrived it would be their
end. In such a mood they
began to dispose their tools
on the satellite’s surface,
while their spaceship rested
at a short distance from
them.
But, indeed, time was never
going to pass. From their
point of observation, they
could see no asteroid
approaching, and meanwhile
abnormally long days elapsed.
This phenomenon preoccupied
them all, but most of all
Gregory, who seemed to have
understood the core problem.
“I believe we find ourselves
in a solar system with no
sun at all. Don’t you see
that sort of black hole in
the sky?”
“What do you think it means?”
George asked him.
“The absence of a sun
implies there’s no day or
night at all. It is as if we
never saw tomorrow; as if we
could never die.”
George got astonished at
this revelation. He couldn’t
help agreeing with his uncle,
but he was terrified, too.
“Now I see,” he said with a
trembling voice. His uncle
went on to explain:
“We actually never feel the
need to sleep, as if we were
always stuck in the same
moment. We seldom eat, too,
and our mood is always the
same: no happiness, no
despair and no fear.”
George turned to Gus, who
hadn’t uttered a word in all
that endless time. His
expression was constantly
depressed, and it seemed to
reverberate the pitiless
dark mouth open if front of
them, in the centre of that
gravitational field. He
understood, then, that the
Genial Hunter would never
arrive. He had consciously
confined them on a piece of
universe from which they
would never escape, forcing
them into a condition of
powerless immortality. He
knew that such a destiny was
even worse than fearing
death because of him. George
realised all this, and
finally exclaimed:
“We can’t remain here! The
Hunter has framed us. We are
prisoners of our fear!”
It was only now that Gus
spoke, taking both Gregory
and George by surprise:
“Don’t speak like this,
boy!” he warned. “There are
things well beyond our
intelligence, and we can’t
challenge them like this!”
“What do you mean, Dad?”
Gregory asked.
The old man replied in a
softer tone: “Son, this is
our situation: if we remain,
we’ll never die, but we’ll
renounce every pleasure or
emotion that life can give.
If we leave, we may lose
everything. But we cannot
simply decide which danger
is worse by a mental
measurement. We’d risk
finding ourselves in front
of something completely
different from what we
expect.”
“But why?” George questioned.
Gus returned silent. He
looked weary, now. Gregory
didn’t speak straightaway,
as if he were thinking. But
then he seemed to get the
point, as his shining eyes
revealed. And he explained
to George: “I think I know
what my father means, nephew.
He’s saying that there’s an
irrational component in the
mechanisms of the universe.
If we leave only because we
think it is more convenient,
we will possibly endanger
our lives pointlessly.”
“But what should we do, then?”
George insisted. “Remain
here? We all agree about the
fact that we have no destiny,
on this satellite.”
Gus refused to reply. It was
still Gregory who spoke:
“Listen, George, you know
how much I love poetry, and
you know how powerful the
energy of life is. I believe
that my father thinks we
should wait until something
happens, while you assume
that the best thing would be
to risk and leave
immediately. I’d rather
propose a compromise
solution, which takes into
account another factor.”
“I’ve never heard you
speaking so philosophically,
uncle,” Gregory couldn’t
keep from commenting.
“Listen,” Gregory continued,
ignoring his remark. “How do
you feel, now?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what is your state
of mind, your wish, your
hope? Do you have any hope
at all?”
George carefully reflected.
He had passed through deep
states of crisis, during
their immeasurable
permanence on the satellite.
He had lost notion of time,
but one thing was sure: he
had never definitely given
up hoping he would one day
get back home. He turned a
moment to Gus, reading again
surrender on his face, and
he understood what his uncle
meant. While Gus had lost
his hope, and with it his
energy, they still kept
theirs. Thanks to it, the
irrational side of universe
would help, rather
jeopardize their lives. He
expressed his sensation to
his uncle.
Gregory smiled in agreement.
Then he said: “Our time has
long expired, but we are
living in an extra-limbo
that protracts our lives
forever. Yet, we don’t aim
at immortality. We just wish
to be happy in our lifetime.”
George felt tears coming to
his eyes. He turned to Gus,
and saw that he was crying,
too. He realized that
Gregory’s words, the words
of a poet, had touched also
the deep layers of his dusty
soul. And he understood that
the next thing they would do
was to step back into their
spaceship and leave.
As soon as they took off,
George asked Gregory where
they should go. They had
reached such a remote region
that no map could help them.
They could rely only on
intuition. They all closed
their eyes, trying to
imitate Gus’s typical
attitude when he needed to
reflect. The old man tried
to sort something out
together with them, now that
he had apparently recovered
his love for life. They then
felt as if their brains were
working together. It was a
strange phenomenon, but
sometimes it happened to the
Pilgrims, who were somehow
able to develop a sort of
collective consciousness.
And their intuition was very
odd. While they kept their
eyes closed, they all made
out a radiant body
approaching at a high speed.
That was it! The Genial
Hunter was again at their
heels. But they did not
panic. They had always
trusted their intuition, so
it wouldn’t fail this time,
either. They saw it coming
closer and closer, until it
was in front of them, and
they were ready to hear the
explosion.
They opened their eyes wide.
Now the asteroid, the very
threatening presence which
had pursued them for such a
long time, had replaced the
seeming black hole, and was
shining like a sun. They
realised their spaceship was
re-descending toward the
small planet, like a silent
drone.
Astonished, the Pilgrims
looked outside the windows,
and recognized the outline
of a familiar continent.
The Genial Hunter was their
missing sun. It had just
taken them back to Earth.
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