Source...
Part 1. The town of Wierdsboro embraced Jacob Holbridge. An enigmatic person, his generosity overwhelmed all to the point that they didn't inquire into his background. He was a man of faith. He was a man of convictions. And he was loved by all.
His idyllic life seemed perfect until he received the letter in the black envelope. Disruption, uncertainty, terror, and misgivings weighed heavily upon him.
When Jacob suddenly vanished, the town of Wierdsboro mourned his loss, although bewildered by his disappearance.
Now, Part 2 (conclusion). In my story, I incorporated 11 Daily Prompts.
Jacob Holbridge sat at his tiny iron desk at the end of the world.
The letter in the black envelope lay next to his voice recorder. Removing it, he stared at its instructions; the ones that demanded he settle the accounts of his life and proceed to another country on Planet Earth to replace his counterpart.
The letter was addressed to Jacob Holbridge at his address in Wierdsboro. But the lengthy instructions inside referred to his true name given at birth, Khiriani.
Jacob Holbridge was indeed a learned man aged thirty-five in his planet's years, six-foot tall, with curly red hair, but that was his facade. As his true self from the race of people residing in an undiscovered solar system on the planet Votamia, Khiriani did not possess any facial or other hair on his body. Humanoid in his actual appearance, his species had evolved in some aspects.
As it turned out, Khiriani had overstayed his allotted time in Wierdsboro. Not only did he refuse to answer the letter, he couldn't abide by the letter's instructions. It wasn't his fault that Judgeson couldn't recruit additional soldiers turned science explorers to further their career. But being stationed on that planet beyond this five-year term was worse than Votamia's penal colony.
Khiriani stared out the small window, remembering his last days as Jacob Holbridge.
Thoughts turned to the family who resided in Wierdsboro who presented him with the fleece jacket. A strange ping dug deep within his chest. Perhaps I overstayed my time and a caught one of terminal diseases, he surmised.
Returning to his line of concentration, he remembered donning that fleece jacket and boots, with only the floodlight in his pocket, eased the door to his temporary shelter lightly shut, then turned to survey his familiar.
The next moment, he was running. Running toward the pier as fast as his legs could carry him. He knew what he'd left behind. He didn't care. His life was no longer important. The letter in the black envelope assured him of that.
He came to the clearing. The memory of the library book surfaced as he remembered the fresh scent of pine needles marinated his soul like a warm wine, he'd learned, shared with a lover. As he spotted the pier, his knees shook so hard that they couldn't sustain his lower body. He grabbed for the tree. His arms grew weak, unable to hold onto the thorny bushes.
Panting, he nearly fell. The next instant, he'd arrived, and the spacecraft was waiting at the edge of the pier. He no longer needed the floodlight, so he dropped it on the pier. He didn't look back at his transport lifted higher until only clouds below the atmosphere were visible. He would be returning home to an ordered life.
But he felt freer on Earth than he'd ever been on Votamia.
As he'd discovered on Earth, it was "not the norm" and "a living hell" for his superior to demand another five year tour of duty. "What fresh hell is this?" he thought, shaking his head. Five years was enough space junk infiltrating his program.
It took over six months to desensitize and reprogram his system upon return to Votamia. He didn't realize how much he needed refreshing until he noticed his family staring at him as if they were viewing an alien.
"I can see you growing a second head?" Khiriani's son, Aurolius suggested? He waited for his father to deactivate his voice as punishment, but no response came. He noted is father's inconsistency in his data storage.
Khiriani's thoughts were focused on his failed assignment on Planet Earth. He had no concept of the feelings the residents of Wierdsboro underwent when he disappeared. He only knew he desired to return to his family. Six years had passed since he'd left them for his assignment to Earth.
But he would have to pay for his desertion. And now he'd have to leave his family again.
Quevelo would guarantee that.
Just as Khiriani's thoughts turned to his commander, Quevelo hit the prison cell with his laser rod.
Khiriani rose, turned from the window, then stepped behind the desk. He loathed his commander's mistreatment of him and other researchers assigned off planet. He followed Quevelo's rod as it pointed toward the outside of the prison.
"Go check what damaged you've caused." Quevelo's thunderous voice reverberated.
Confused, Khiriani wondered what had happened on this planet in the five years he'd been stationed on Earth. The scene outside looked familiar to ones he experienced while there. People flooding the byway with torches, yelling, in protest of dwindling resources.
"You did this!" Quevelo roared, staring deeply into Khiriani's translucent eyes, delivering his vexed message. "As one of my best students and an excellent observer of people. I trusted you to return promising results of your investigation. Instead, I can't believe the planet we've heard so much about is not suitable for our needs. Others in your graduating class have requested extended assignments."
Khiriani jerked his head. "Votamians are disillusioned. That is what the planet Earth is, an illusion of all we seek. Beneath the skin, the pain and suffering, harm to the world humans claim to love, is spreading like a plague. They won't stop until there is nothing left for us to celebrate. Why conquer a dying planet? I won't be a party to it, and will speak my knowledge."
"No you won't. We will proceed as planned." Quelovo spat in Khirini's face, then pushed the rod into his chest.
"Then you do it without my assistance," Khiriani shouted in his own deep voice. "You can reformat the information I obtained, but you can't extirpate my experience. You can replace me and send others until you receive the reports that are favorable to your mission."
"Evidently you don't know or understand our society's mission. Either you're onboard or against us. Your choice."
Khiriani breathed in deeply. He was prepared for this meeting since his return.
"You would condemn our society to perish? Do you hear the people in the byway chanting for a false dream you've fed them? You're leading them to annihilation to prop up yourself. You are condemning our race to the same fate with false information. You've sent others who, if they were truthful, would corroborate my findings. It took me less than five years to understand Planet Earth's history through millennia and the direction we're contemplating is wrong. Climate is destroying their history from the exterior. Ignorance is destroying it from the interior. All because of individuals such as yourself."
"Yes, many humans exist on the planet whose ideas are for the good of humanity. The number is minute in relation to the majority whose power won't allow all humans to live in one accord. They'd rather destroy the planet and all living beings and animals in order to keep control."
"Only a short while, and adverse climate will reach a point of no return. Instead of working to find a worldwide solution, they engage in bitter wars, killing their kinsmen and destroying each other's resources and what they have already accomplished."
"Again I ask you, is this a world you want to condemn our people to? We can't live peacefully beside those humans. Those in authority won't even allow their own kind to live in peace. If others look or behave differently, or believe in a higher order that is beyond the authorities' understanding, they are labeled at outcasts and undesirables. Would you have every adult person on Votamia carry a weapon equal to or more powerful than yours?"
Then Khiriani stepped back and raised his hands as if in defeat. But he had to get one final acknowledge on record. "That is, unless your mission is to wipe every human off the face of the planet. If so, then be truthful with the inhabitants of Votamia and allow them to choose their path."
When Khiriani finished, he swiped at the rod in his chest. He was already in prison without any charges leveled against him. Thoughts of his family prevented him from rushing forward and strangling the stubby Quevelo dead in that moment.
Quevelo smirked and waved his rod in the prisoner's face. "You'll have a lifetime to regret your decision to cross me."
What Quevelo didn't know was that unbeknownst to him, their entire conversation was being recorded when he failed to detect Khiriani placing his hand behind his back and activating his secondary archive.
The message would be delivered to the people of Votamia.
Instantly, Quevelo turned toward the wall. With his rod, a panel of light flashed green, alternating with crimson, etching Khiriani's life sentence into the iron.
With venom in his eyes, Quevelo stepped back and bolted from the prison cell. He signaled to the prison officer to secure the door settings on maximum.
Waited until he'd reached several steps down the long hall, he rung his hands, murmuring, "a man of prestige. That's the last thing I need on Votamia." He raised his head high with conviction, then headed out to tend to the business of gaslighting his society.
Khiriani returned to his desk. He watched as a blue bee buzzed toward the closed window. It landed on the off-season bloom of a red berry, then moved on to the yellow berry before skirting off. He look at the enormous insect. Decisions, decisions.
He didn't want to imagine new worlds as his superior attempted to indoctrinate into his graduating class. He understand his planet's bleak outlook. Slowly dying, their society and offspring's future was at stake.
Quevelo would send another to Wierdsboro. The residents there would continue on and become attached to that researcher. The town of Wierdsboro would forget about Jacob. They may speak of him ever so often, but the new model of a human they would embrace. That was the human way. Always looking the wrong way, being caught off guard.
Khiriani was convinced though, and no amount of persuasion could reverse his conclusion, that Earth was unsuitable as as alternate living space for Votamia's future occupation. Turning around the destruction heaped upon the planet would take too long. Votamia would lose a generation.
No longer interested in the outside world, he rose and turned toward the wall. Staring at his penal life sentence, he walked over to it, then lowered himself on the cell's flooring. He positioning his hands on his knees. He closed his eyes, then prayed while meditating as he had learned on Earth. He performed variations of the Mudra in an attempt to find peace in the face of their dying planet.
Khiriani took his punishment. In his code of conduct, personal conviction, and rationalization, the penal colony for deserters was nothing compared to life on Earth with human beings.
Nothing could compare. Nothing.
For my story, I was inspired by and utilized the @daily.prompt's publishing of:
Together with:
Desk at the end of the world
Growing a second head
Not the norm
What fresh hell is this?
Imagine new world
Bleak outlook
Observer of people
Panel of light
Blue bee
Red berry, yellow berry
SOURCES:
a) JustClickindiva's Footer created in Canva utilizing its free background and images used with permission from discord admins.
b) Unless otherwise noted, all photos taken by me with my (i) Samsung Galaxy 10" Tablet, (ii) Samsung Phone, & (iii) FUJI FinePix S3380 - 14 Mega Pixels Digital Camera
c) Purple Butterfly part of purchased set of Spiritual Clip Art for my Personal Use
d) All Community logos, banners, page dividers used with permission of Discord Channel admins.
e) Ladies of Hive banner used with permission of and in accordance with the admin's guidelines
f) Thumbnail Image created by me in Canva.
g) "Flames." What is Apophysis 2.09. https://flam3.com/
If translation included, I use DeepL to assist my readers.
Thanks for your patience an understanding.