The Songs of Polaris: Extracted Version

By HC_Leung

Six million years after human extinction, the Sphere was about to open. It was on the cusp of a new era.

Measuring fifteen feet in diameter, the translucent object lay dormant in the green-purple meadow. Rays of sunlight slithered past, tracing shadows on its triangular-patterned scales.

Inside, a larger world existed. A world in which space was folded and time was dilated. A total of 4391 human teenagers resided here.

They were not from wombs. Instead, they were bred from tubes. They owed their genetic make-up to historically important people, such as Plato the Athenian philosopher, Lu You the Song Dynasty poet, Andrew Massena the Napoleonic Empire marshal, Sergei Korolev the Soviet spacecraft designer, Mahtab Farahani the British quantum physicist, and Enuke Nanji the Earth Federation education minister. Together, they were a group of curated talents, collectively raised by the Wayfarer.

Not much was known about the alien. Except it was immortal, and it could bend space-time at will. Crossing dimensions was like a hike in the forest, and it knew all the trails.

Once upon a time, the Wayfarer belonged to a prosperous tribe in the Polaris system. But pride goes before a fall; it led a revolt against its divine creator but lost. Its people were massacred; as the sole survivor it was banished from its home world. To be forgiven and be allowed to return, it must drift through the universe and commit twelve acts of penitence.

Earth was its first act. Once a habitable planet, the blue planet fell prey to a behemoth-class meteor. Fire and dust raged through the continents, snuffing out the light of human civilization.

When the Wayfarer arrived on Earth, it envied the humans. They had perished, and their death had liberated them from the perpetual pain so prevalent in this senseless universe. However, returning home was its ultimate purpose. So it scoured the land, salvaged any useful traces of biological materials, and rebuilt the indigenous life form.

Time passed. The lab embryos had grown into fully developed people. Mother Nature, meanwhile, had conquered death through eons of rejuvenation.

The Wayfarer was standing next to the scales, eager to make an announcement. Eternal life had not been merciful, as its face looked pale, wrinkled, and sorrowful.

"Children, your day has come. Go and be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the land. Have dominion over the fish and the fowl, and over every living thing that moves upon the Earth."

"Are you coming with us, most beloved one?" asked one of the teenagers.

"I must move on," replied the Wayfarer. "But I will watch you from the distant stars, so you will never be alone. Go now. Be well and flourish."

The Sphere opened with a blaring alarm sound. The teenagers squinted their eyes as they saw sunlight for the first time. Slowly, their pupils adjusted. And a new world was waiting, a world with lush mountains and clear water, roving clouds and fragrant breezes. Hand in hand, they ventured out of the Sphere, ready to embrace their future in unison.

#

The 4391 human teenagers bid farewell to the Wayfarer. After their savior rose to the sky, they said, "Let us start rebuilding." So they began this good work.

First, the people erected a monument to commemorate this moment. Next, they settled in the surrounding region and labored under the sun. In time, the teenagers reached adulthood, and their village grew into a city. The residents named it Sana'a, like the ancient Arabic city from pre-extinction history.

The humans continued to sprawl along the mountains and plains, under the clouds and fragrant breezes. By adopting sustainable energy, they minimized their emissions and prevented the mistakes of previous generations. Economic growth was rapid; agriculture and heavy industries thrived at little cost to Mother Nature. Lands were carefully developed to coexist with their environments.

Sovereign states rose after one another. They came together and looked to Sana'a for leadership. The elders from Sana'a promoted goodwill and cooperative spirits. They pledged peace and prosperity to all corners of the global community.

The signing of the Grand Constitution gave birth to the New Earth Federation. Legislative power was vested in the Parliament, consisting of the Bundestag Lower House and the Bundesrat Upper House. The Bundestag was elected through direct elections using the proportional representation system. The Bundesrat, on the other hand, was appointed by the sovereign state governments. Above the lawmakers, the Chancellor exercised executive power through his cabinet ministers.

Human dignity, separation of powers, federal structure, and rule of law; those principles were guaranteed by the constitution. Well-informed citizens voted and expected good governance from their public officials.

The Federation focused on infrastructure development. Highways became extensive, forming a network that linked cities and even smaller towns. Intercontinental trains broke speed barriers on magnetic levitation rails. Airports and container ports flourished, and the sea and the sky bustled with traffic.

The invention of the Zhao-Mangelsdorf fusion drive propelled mankind to further heights. Armed with such technological innovation, the bold and the brave ventured into outer space. Colonies popped up in Mars, Venus, Europa, Titan, and Ceres. They traded raw materials with Earth and formed a vast economic circle.

Thus, the Space-faring Age was born. The humans became so confident of their progress that they felt no dreams were beyond their reach. A few wise minds, however, urged humbleness. We were indebted to our savior; without its act of kindness we would not be here.

The history of the Federation was not without its downs. 862 years after the resurrection, Earth's population reached a limit. Food became scarce. Farmlands were stretched. Inflation ensued and ordinary families struggled.

People borrowed. They took on credit to keep their grocery bags filled. When the global economy suffered a downturn, debts defaulted. Families were ruined. Riots broke out in cities large and small. A chasm had gaped between the rich and the poor.

The Parliament convened and appointed a new Chancellor. Vested with emergency powers, Mitasha Boutros-Ghali halted the global banking system and introduced martial law. He traveled tirelessly around the world to meet with governors and bankers. To restore solidarity, he asked that debts be forgiven and interested canceled. "We must do right. It is for our savior, our Most Beloved One."

#

Resurrection Year 882 marked the beginning of the Great Reconciliation. Social initiatives were put in place to restore broken neighborhoods. Friendships were restore, and emotional wounds were healed. People learned to set aside their differences and understand each other more.

Chancellor Boutros-Ghali was hailed a hero. He had displayed exemplary leadership in a tumultuous time period. Loved by his people, he sought re-election in 890 RY and won a landslide victory. It was a historic moment for the Federation.

The inauguration was a grand affair. Sana'a was in a festive mood, and the streets were awash in banners and pennants. People cheered when the Chancellor appeared. He greeted them back as if they were his own.

From a podium, Boutros-Ghali vowed to lead mankind into a new direction. Humans were experiencing unprecedented prosperity, but as a result, their souls had been malnourished. To aspire as a civilization, our spiritual thirsts must be quenched. "Without it", he said, "we would be lost and fall prey to contention."

In his secluded forest home, the Chancellor contemplated the future. Plans were underway to celebrate the one-thousandth anniversary of Human Resurrection. But all birthdays come with a wish, and this one was no different. After the Millennium Celebration, what should humans look forward to?

The answer lied in Project Stardust, an expensive effort to produce billions and billions of space nanoprobes. These robots capable of self-replication would be dispersed in space with one preprogrammed mission: to locate the Wayfarer and invite it back to Earth for the celebration. That was mankind's future: to be in communion with their savior.

Clearly, it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. The chance of finding the Most Beloved One was virtually non-existent. But the Chancellor made it his mission to arm his people with a sense of purpose. So he spent the rest of his term overseeing Project Stardust. Little by little, his heart was filled with obsession.

On the eve of the Celebration, citizens of the world came together. The mayor of Sana'a read the Grand Constitution out loud from a marbled rotunda, from daybreak until noon.

When finished, a round of applause filled the air. The people were proud of their federation, and they looked forward the new year with optimism.

"Go now," said Chancellor Boutros-Ghali, "and enjoy food and sweet drinks. Send some to those who have nothing prepared. This is a great day for humanity. Do not grieve, for the Most Beloved One is watching."

Then all the people went away to eat and drink, to donate portions of the food and to celebrate with great joy, because they understood the future that had been made known to them. The Federation would continue to flourish and expand outside the Solar System.

The Chancellor glanced up at the sky. He had hoped to surprise his people by having the Wayfarer appear. But nothing happened. The Stardusts had failed to find the Most Beloved One. Years of wasted effort left him crushed and disheartened.

#

Light-years away on a snowy planet, the Wayfarer's meditation got interrupted. A Stardust had entered its cave and, upon finding its target, self-replicated into a six foot tall obelisk. Black, obnoxious, it stared down at the lone exile. The robot displayed a digital message in man's language.

It was an invitation to Earth's Millennium Celebration.

The Wayfarer chuckled and followed with a dry cough. Despite the odds, it had been found. Humans had always been persistent, so long as they had a purpose.

"Interesting," said the Wayfarer, "this proposition back to Earth. Let's see, there's fifty-thousand light years in between. I suppose it's feasible."

The obelisk garbled and urged for an answer. Accept invitation? Y/N.

The Wayfarer thought about it and sighed. "I'm sorry chap, it wouldn't be appropriate if I go. Sorry you came all the way here for nothing. Why don't you stick around for a bit? It's quiet here, I could sure use some company."

Unexpected outcome encountered. Computing...

It took some time for the obelisk to comprehend the current situation.

Proposal accepted. Rewriting internal code.

The obelisk updated its operation system and then entered sleep mode. After a long cosmic journey, it was time for recuperation, even for non-organic lifeforms.

The Wayfarer dusted its lap. It got up and strolled outside the cave, the first in many months. The fifty-day storm had passed, and the barren planet is blanked with snow. The sky was pink and purple, lit by a distant sun.

Somewhere between the north and northwest direction, the Polaris star hung over the horizon. How beautiful - it was bright even in daylight. The Wayfarer imagined what its homeland was like after the rebellion. The four seasons must have returned after the great scorch, and Mother Nature returned to its throne.

Time to offer a prayer. The Wayfarer knelt down facing the star and landed its forehead on the ground. Deep in thought and hands upward, it tuned out the noises from its heart. Oh, Divine Creator, here cometh mine own next act of penitence.

The Wayfarer was loved by the humans. One thousand years after their resurrection, they still remembered it as their savior. Even so, the lone exile must not accept the invitation. It was not God, and it had no right to mingle with the affairs of the human civilization.

Forgive mine own sins, mine own past. I am thy servant, exacting thy will for the humans. Bless their hearts, for they are pure, and may thy favor be upon them for not just a thousand years, but a thousand more generations.

It bowed three times to finish the prayer. When it got up, its eyes were filled with tears. This journey, this slow-burn correctional service, may never be finished. The Wayfarer chanted a song with sorrow. It was a song about Polaris, sung at a time when its people were one with their creator.

On the floating rock isles, light abounds. Is it Spring? Have the white flowers blossomed, has the birds returned from their migration? Oh, that clearwater sound. When my Lord is above me and my families are within reach, I know I am home.

Meanwhile, the clock tower in Sana'a struck midnight. Humanity had officially entered a new millennium since their resurrection. Drumrolls began. Fireworks lit up the night sky.

Two fleets, naval and merchant, departed from a geostationary space station above the equator. They sailed in opposite directions, orbiting Earth while sounding maritime horns over the radio. People all over the world sang and rejoiced. It was a night of celebrations, prayers, and gratitude.

Three years later, former Chancellor Boutros-Ghali passed away in his forest home. He was 180 years old, considered short in his world. From the turbulent times to Great Reconciliation, he showed the world how to live by example. His legacy would serve as a cornerstone for future generations.

The Federation hailed him a hero. They commemorated his life that was deemed meaningful. But unbeknownst to most people, Boutros-Ghali had a wish that was never fulfilled. It was to find the Wayfarer and hear its words of wisdom once more. The obsession stayed with him until the very end, and he died not feeling whole.