EOTU by D. R. SMITH (summer books .txt) 📕

“The universe seems neither benign nor hostile, merely indifferent”

                                                                                                - Carl Sagan

               The silence and emptiness of space is beyond description. It engulfs anything that attempts to violate it. Objects of significant size on planet Earth that are launched from it's gravitational pull into the vast void of space are instantly reduced to infinitesimal. No one or nothing can change or have any affect on its eternal presence and perfect design in any way whatsoever. Even the term 'explore' falls short in defining an attempt at discovering its purpose, dimension, beginning, and end.

               And yet there they were.

               Two nearly identical craft conjoined like Siamese twins frozen at one specific coordinate in the unforgiving vacuum and unparalleled expanse. Their location is exacting and individually preconceived. The event is momentous in representation yet unnoticeable. Inside... one single passenger. At least a single physical form.

               A man. A man who remembers two pasts. A man torn between what he knew moments ago and what he now knows. A man swimming weightlessly within the confines of the two space craft. A man struggling to discover how it became possible that the two ships in which he was an occupant, that had not previously communicated with each other, that were from different sides of the universe, had come to be successfully docked and securely coupled in the most distant reaches of outer space.

Drawn to and now floating at the exact coupling point, the sliver of dimension that both separates and conjoins the twin vessels, he muses at how their locking mechanisms could be constructed so exactly similar that they would perfectly receive each other. He begins to run his hand along the joint marveling at its precision. Now he looks at his hand as it juts out of the sleeve of the space suit. Holding it up in front of his face he scrutinizes the fingers, the nails, and the creases in it. Is this his hand? he ponders to himself. This sends his mind into a spiral of memories that vacillate between one past and another.

He remembers a conversation with a woman. She is standing close to him. She has tears in her eyes and is very emotional. She is pleading with him to stay. She tells him his effort will be futile and that he is throwing his life away. He is telling her he feels an almost instinctive compulsion to make this trek. He remembers kissing her good-bye...holding her close...her lips soft and pressing against his. He too has tear filled eyes. He pushes away turning without looking back. And then...

His thoughts instantly snap to a different scenario. He is standing in front of what appears to be a grave. He is talking to the person who is buried at his feet. He tells her that he is leaving forever. He speaks to her as if she were there... alive. He reads the inscription on her tombstone and gets caught in a stare. He then turns and walks away.

               As he snaps back to reality, the lone man in space begins to feel a separation. A tearing apart of his physical body. Even a division in the very fabric of his being. He looks into the vessel on his left and then shifts his gaze quickly to the one on his right.

With hands on either side of his head he pushes, applying vise-like pressure on his skull in an attempt to keep himself from being torn asunder mentally. His face is twisted in anguish. Not just because of the pain he feels but more so due to the incredible splitting that is becoming more and more imminent.

He growls with teeth and eyes clenched tightly. Pressure builds causing his growl to burst into an ear-piercing cry.

The moment of greatest pain, coherence, and consciousness is instantaneously brought about by a complete and precise collision of matter at the molecular level. Each atom making up his physical body attempts to fuse and, in doing so, cease to exist and the solitary man in space.... vanishes.

He leaves behind only a scream that echoes for a second or two off the walls of what was once his confinement.

Silence.

“I don't believe in a fate that will fall on us no matter what we do. I do believe in a fate that will fall on us if we do nothing.”
                                                                                                       - Ronald Reagan

                              Three hundred years earlier.....

The door actually closed quite softly. This surprised Eric considering the circumstance.

I know I'd be pissed if I were him, he thought.

The larger older man who had just entered the room crossed the floor taking deep concerned breaths that might as well have been verbalized comments. He scraped a chair up under his frame and, in an almost orchestrated and simultaneous move, slipped into it. He then folded his arms across his chest, which accentuated his slouched orientation and size and then released a drawn out exhale that puffed his cheeks out. His very presence was formidable. 

“Expelled.  Kicked out of college completely.” His Greek accent seemed more prominent. “I mean... is this what I'm understanding actually happened? And for partying no less? In fact...partying your way into jail. Have you thought for one moment, Eric, what your mother would say if she were still around?”

“Listen Dad.... it's not as bad as they made it sou....” He was cut off by both the blast of his father’s voice and the hand that had been jabbed forward in a traffic cop “stop” fashion.

“ERIC!!” His father paused to collect his thoughts for a moment. His outstretched hand slowly lowered. Folding his arms along the edge of the table and dipping his forehead down against them, he began mumbling something in the direction of his shoes. Oddly, to Eric, it sounded as though his father were a having a conversation with his mother. The black tuft of hair then slowly arose. The older man’s mustached face, course skin, dark deep eyes, thick eyebrows that matched his hair, was now staring directly at Eric.

“For all your academic life I have listened to teachers tell me how brilliant you are. They repeatedly said you could be the next Einstein or Hawking. You just need to get your act together... that's what they'd all end their comments with. Always the same. He just simply needs to get his act together.”

Eric squirmed in his seat. His strategy of how he was going to manipulate the evidence and the college expulsion event into something positive was quickly evaporating. He knew his dad had saved for years to send him to college and wasting an enormous part of that tuition was not only disrespectful and inconsiderate, it was just plain selfish. And well... stupid.

“I believe I'm going to have to insist you pay me back.” his dad continued with his head slightly shaking from side to side. This made Eric’s slumped head rise to attention with eyes wide. This was a reaction Eric did not see coming. His dad continued. “Yes.” A pause. “You now owe me the entire $27,000 you just blew on the tuition for that semester” Another pause. “I never thought I'd hear myself telling you that... but it just has to be that way. Otherwise, I think you will keep cruising through life expecting people to cover your ass for all your shortfalls and jacking around.”

Stefan Mikos had always tried to be a good father, good provider, and a fair parent. But his youngest son had just pushed his patience over the edge. His large Corsican build, black mustache, and dark beard-shadowed face was in direct contrast to his 21 year old son's thin wiry build and almost baby skinned smooth face. This, combined with Stefan's deep Grecian voice made for an intimidating confrontation from Eric's perspective. And Stefan's anger was not singularly fueled by a college dropout child.

He and his wife had decided from the moment each of their children were born that they were going to start a college fund for the three of them. They would sink so much per month per child into the school fund to build up at least enough to help them out with tuition or, if they chose a local community college, to possibly cover it in full. It truly was love money. Money saved out of parents concern for the future of their children. It was sacred. Made even more sacred with the untimely and sudden death of his wife, Celia...Eric's mother. And now, showing little consideration of his college fund's origin, Eric had just wasted all of his share of the 'love money'. This, more than anything, is why a father to son “talk” had become necessary.

Eric remained quiet. He stared at his father until it morphed into a stare through his father. His mind momentarily wandered off, thinking about what could've been and what now was going to be. What would he now do? Just get a job? Be the most brilliant assembly line worker in the world? Or could he finagle his way into a research position and re-boot his education once he was “in the field”? Not to mention he was going to be launching this half-ass career plan with a $27,000 debt to his dad. Stefan's voice interrupted Eric's daydream...which...actually...was more of a daytime-nightmare.

“Wait. No. That's not how this is going to go”, his father conjectured. For a moment, Eric’s entire body felt a jolt of relief, thinking that his dad had come to his senses and wouldn’t DARE waste his child’s talent and intellect. “I want all of our money back. You didn't just trash a semester. You trashed an entire college degree.” He turned his head to square it up with Eric's so he would be looking at him directly eye to eye. Eric’s face struggled to hide his shock.

“You owe me $51,700. Yup. The whole ball of wax buddy” he announced, slapping his massive hand flat down upon the shiny surface of the table. Once again folding his arms across his chest, he then leaned against the back of the chair without a break in his eye contact. “Everything I've paid for your education TO DATE” he said, emphasizing the last two words.

Eric closed his eyes slowly, and while taking in a deep breath, he shook his head equally as slow, and nearly allowed a welling tear to slip from between his lids. “No” he thought “I can't let him see me cry”. He instantly thought back to 20 seconds ago when he was thinking how difficult it would be to get started in life with a $27,000 debt to his dad. Now it was going to be nearly $52,000! Finally, he decided it was time to cave and break his painful silence with sincerity.

“Look dad.... I'm really sorry. I don't think there's much else I can say except... I screwed up... BIG TIME. And I am really truly sorry.” His voice was soft and genuine. There was a moment of awkward silence before Mr. Mikos spoke.

“Do you have any idea how disappointing this is Eric? Your mother would