Yugen

“We’re falling from geostationary orbit,” Gardner reports.

“Adjust,” I say as I flick switches.

“He can’t,” Wells calls from navigation. “The gravitational force … too strong. It’s pulling us in…”

I manage a side-eye at Wells. His face conveys what I already know.

The navigator says in a solemn whisper, “Velocity increasing.”

Gardner looks at me. “We’re plummeting fast. I can’t maintain—”

“Compensate. Regain control,” I command, despite knowing it’s impossible.

“I can’t. We’re losing it!” Gardner cries.

The spacecraft’s hull rumbles as we enter Kepler-438b’s atmosphere. A million thoughts run through my mind. Why did I come here? Why is this happening to me? Why did I leave her? Jen was right… I’m not coming back.

Our survival depends on maintaining focus, but concentration is an impossibility. I steal a calming breath. Count backwards from three…

My voice cracks as I say, “Flight Engineer Gardner, pull it together. Adjust controls. We need to level her out. Wells, get over there and help him!”

Gardner panics. “I’m trying but—”

A tumultuous moment causes the craft’s tail to disintegrate, leading to Gardner’s scream, Wells’ failed ejection attempt, and the ship’s surrender to G-forces. Amid the chaos, I fixate on the accelerometer, seeking a miracle before darkness claims me.

An explosion… A heat-flash. Instinctually, I roll away from the blast. Thunderous booming reverberates through my body. A daze. Sitting up, I see what’s left of my ship. Miraculously, the crash threw my body from the wreckage—just in time. An intense pain shoots through my right leg above the knee. Shock grips me. After a deep breath, I compose myself and examine the wound. Blood gushes from my limb because a large aluminum shard impaled it. Great… After Mars and Kapteyn b, this is the third planet humanity has stepped foot on, and I’m bleeding all over it.

In haste, I fashion a tourniquet from hose debris. My helmet rests a foot on my side; shattered glass tells me it’s useless. Astoundingly, Kepler-438b’s air is thin, but breathable. Otherwise, it would kill me. Though, how is this possible? In the briefing, they told us the atmosphere resembled Venus, mostly carbon dioxide. Guess not.

I assess my situation.

Wells? Nowhere in sight.

Gardner? His charred body decorates the wreckage.

I scan the perimeter. Mountains, hills, all covered with trees resembling giant asparagus. Grayish snow as far as the eye can see. No animals. The remnants of the ship smolder amidst two tree clusters as the red dwarf sun dips below the horizon. In a less perilous situation, the rosy sunset would captivate me. Though, several questions cross my mind. How can a tidally locked planet have a rotation? How do the trees thrive in such extreme temperatures without liquid water? Gardner announced our location as we orbited near the planet’s twilight zone, just moments before solar winds tore apart the spacecraft. Too much on this side, and I melt. Too much on that side, and I become an icicle. I hit the sweet spot—for all the good it does me. I’m lost in the middle of the constellation Lyra, in the belly of Ptolemy’s vulture. Nobody will come for me.

I stand and hobble over to Gardner’s body. Yep, he’s dead.

I speak to him anyway.

“Take it easy, buddy. I’m the one who needs a miracle. At least, a doctor. Chances for intelligent life on this rock are negligible, but the facts don’t add up. Maybe there’s more to Kepler-438b than meets the eye.”

Our mission: observe, orbit, study for potential life, use the star’s gravity for acceleration, slingshot back to the Milky Way, and enter cryosleep. Then, report to Earth. That mission failed. It took almost a decade for the ship’s prototype sub-light engine to reach the Kepler system. Earth doesn’t have a backup, so nobody will come.

I say to Gardner’s corpse, “How long can I endure these temperatures? How long without food? How long sporting this wound?” The dead man says nothing, but his rictus grin affirms my suspicions. Not long.

I scan the horizon, searching for life.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, Danny Gardner. If the storms don’t kill us, starvation will. I’ll look for animals, but this planet seems deserted, Danny Boy.”

I hobble over to the wreckage. Not much to salvage. I search anyway, with Gardner’s body haunting my investigation. The first aid and sewing kit remnants I find near the tail section might save my life—or extend it. Now, I can patch myself. Removing the aluminum spike nearly kills me. The stitching, the needle’s plunge, and the binding wreck me. Exhausted, I collapse into the snow.

Several hours later, I gather the nerve to stand. I hobble over to the wreckage and flip the ship’s nose over. To my surprise, the designation remains legible: the ISA Yugen.

“Strange name for a spaceship.”

I glance back at the corpse.

“Hey, Danny Boy. Do you know how this hunk of junk got its name?”

No answer.

“At the academy, they tell us the Interstellar Space Agency allows the ship’s designer to name her. It’s a courtesy.”

I drag Gardner’s body away from the fire. “In our case, a genius from Osaka christened her. I can’t remember his name. ‘Masato’ something or other. It’s an unusual name for a ship.”

I turn to Gardner. “Do you remember training for it? Boy, was that a nightmare. Almost as bad as this. The designer explained yugen means ‘heightened awareness too poignant for words.’ He thought people misinterpreted Japanese aesthetics, so they used ‘sublime’ to describe it. I kept saying, ‘It’s like awe, right?’ He merely shrugged.”

I gaze at the sky, captivated by the misplaced sunset.

“Does that red dwarf sunset qualify as yugen?”

I regard the twilight and the shimmering lights forming in the sky, a kind of aurora borealis. I think upon nature’s grandeur, my life’s last moments, and my hopeless situation. Okay, Jen. What am I going to do? I can’t give up.

I pause and then breathe. The brisk air tingles my lungs.

In the distance, I behold an emptiness that will claim my life. Yes, I can gather firewood from these strange trees. Yes, I can melt snow for drinking water. Regardless, I haven’t seen a single animal. For protection, I fashion a spear from a stick, but it seems more like a ridiculous toy than a weapon. But I ready myself for the struggle ahead.

Time passes.

Days of snowstorms. Then, nights of frigid struggle.

Recovered ISA rations last a few days, and then I fast for weeks because the trees seem inedible. I bury Gardner so I don’t get the temptation to eat him. I can’t bear the thought. I’ll die first. His charred uniform helps me survive the planet’s hypothermic temperature by providing a double layer. Luckily, Gardner’s uniform also provided other useful items: a tiny LED flashlight and a Zippo cigarette lighter. Pitiful fires built from bizarre lumber keep me from freezing, as did the shelter I made from the wreckage. As my shadow grows longer, it gets colder. Somehow, night and day happen, but I can’t explain this phenomenon. It doesn’t follow science’s known laws regarding locked orbit.

Tonight, I build another fire. As always, the smoke smells like rotten tobacco. I fiddle with the blaze and stare out into the night sky. Earth spins somewhere out there, Jennifer too. The thought depresses me. I cry. Wells—dead. Too much time has passed. Nobody to speak to… Starvation or isolation? Which will get me first?

I speak to the stars. “Kepler-438b completes one orbit around its red dwarf star every 35 days. Pretty funny, when you think about it. Considering that, I haven’t eaten in almost a whole Kepler year. What will I do for food? The lighter’s butane will run out. The flashlight’s batteries will go too. Then, what will I do?”

But a movement to my left startles me. I bolt upright and move toward the tree line. The darkened forest remains motionless. I squint. In the shadows, imperceptible movement. I can’t see it, but I feel it. Perhaps I’m imagining it. I squint harder, trying to discern if it’s a mirage. Instinct takes control as my fingers tighten around my toy spear.

Snap!

A shifting weight breaks a dry twig. My imagination runs wild. Maybe it’s Wells. Maybe he survived the crash! Perhaps it’s something worse. Shadows deepen around me. Whatever it is, I see it now. An ominous feeling engulfs the landscape.

“Wells, is that you?” I whisper, but regret it.

I peer into the darkness. Nothing moves.

I listen. Fear grips me. I hurry. Whatever snapped that twig appears large, and given my wound, I can’t risk a confrontation.

 I hasten my pace. It follows. Is it a luna wolf or velocibear, like on Kapteyn b? Or is it a monster unique to this planet? It matches my stride. I attempt to hobble into a run, but my leg won’t let me. It gives out. I fall. It’ll eat me alive. I brace for the attack with clenched eyes.

Moments go by, but nothing happens. My eyes open involuntarily.

Instead of a luna wolf, a waifish being emerges from the thicket with an aloof majesty. Its willowy form conveys an impossible physique; a humanoid shouldn’t possess such a thin frame. Its striking face is beautiful in a feminine way, but I can’t discern the sex. It draws back its thin lips, bearing hundreds of tiny little teeth. Long, inky hair and tenebrous eyes contrast a vitrified complexion and a bluish maw. A cannibalistic smear glosses its mouth. Despite its ravenous appearance, a beauty prevails, an elegance. Was the creature’s last meal an animal or Wells? No way of knowing. Not even a single space squirrel has crossed my path. And without a fire, this creature ate the meat bloody. Where did it come from? Is it a native of this planet or a survivor from another crash? No visible injuries on it, showing it’s likely native.

The creature advances; its white dressings, mottled with entrails and mud, billow in the wind. A few cautious steps later, it halts meters from me. The being paces like an animal, trying to figure out if I pose a threat. No sound comes from it.

I mutter, “Are you hurt?”

It remains mute, but its haunting eyes bore into me. The creature shifts its stance. No communication, except the expressive nature of its ebon eyes, which never break contact with mine. Their intensity makes me nervous. Those eyes don’t belong in this forest. They don’t belong anywhere in the universe.

Like the sunset and breathable air, this creature poses another mystery.

I repeat, “Are you hurt? Can I help you?”

My questions seem silly after I say them. It has survived this place. Perhaps I should ask it for help. After seeing my embarrassment, it shakes its head in apology, the first sign of communication.

I say, “I’m the only survivor.” I hitch my thumb back to the crash site and add, “Unless you’ve seen Wells.”

The creature remains silent.

“I hurt myself,” I say to my leg, not expecting an answer from the creature.

It eyes me.

I present my stitched leg as proof.

The creature doesn’t budge, despite my attempt to befriend it. It remains reticent. Its presence reminds me I’m perhaps the only human on this planet and the thought crushes me. Despite my sudden hatred for the being, an overwhelming instinct to protect it seizes me, as if its eyes command me to do so.

“I have no food, or I’d offer you some,” I say, presenting an empty hand, but then adding, “It looks as if you’ve already eaten.”

It squints at the gesture. Eyeing my hand in distrust, it hesitates. The intense glow of my flashlight may blind its dark eyes. I point the light at the tree line.

I motion the creature to come closer. It takes a single step. A luna wolf howls in the distance. This causes the strange being to retreat to the trees. Another luna wolf howls. At least this means animals live in this godforsaken place, but why haven’t I heard them before?

“I won’t hurt you. You must be freezing,” I say.

It comes a little closer to the fire.

With the blaze dancing in its eyes, I say flatly, “They’re all dead. My entire crew. Wells might still be alive, but I doubt it.”

I look at the creature for a reaction.

A devilish smile creeps across its thin lips, but the creature says nothing. Its sudden turnaround surprises me. This reversal, as well as its queer appearance, makes me suspicious. The creature moves closer to me. Eyes blank, as if its thoughts dawdle a million miles away. I avert eye contact, wondering if it might eat me. Its fiendish smile lingers in my mind, seizing something deep within me.

I say in an anxious whisper, “Why are you here?”

Drawing nearer, so near I may lose my mind, the creature places its frigid fingers upon my hand. Icy and terrible. Hallucinogenic sensations tingle inside me. The creature leans in closer. The psychedelia increases. Its head hovers an inch from my ear. Geometric shapes rave across my vision. Warm breathing tickles my eardrum. Then the creature waits. Waits longer. Hallucination transforms the creature’s face, elongating it into a more nightmarish conoid. Then, with eyes wide, it whispers into my ear.

I saw a light.

I jerk back and the hallucination expires.

It speaks my language! How?

The creature sneers, but the expression seems gleeful and false.

I relax, but confusion fills my heart. Does this creature’s presence alter my awareness? Can the planet also do this to me? That would explain all the mysteries.

I say, “You mean my flashlight? Is that the light you saw?”

It leans closer. I feel uncomfortable with the closeness. Its unfathomable eyes drive so deep into mine that mind-altering sickness overtakes me. It nods in the negative. It pauses for emphasis, waits longer, and then parrots so quietly I can barely hear… I saw a light.

“Do you mean in the forest? Another light? You saw Wells?” I become excited, but the creature’s eyes make me dread answers to my questions. It places a long, bony finger on my shoulder. My trippy mood shifts from sexual attraction to embarrassment, and finally to despair. My emotions swing toward bewilderment. Mania washes over me as the creature’s presence provokes these changes. It removes its finger. Withdrawal symptoms clutch my heart. The creature doesn’t respond to my questions. It looks to the horizon and repeats its haunting phrase once more… I saw a light.

I try to shift its attention back to me by saying, “Are you in shock? Was there a crash? Maybe you’re traumatized too. Did everybody die?”

A brittle smile slithers across its face. It pauses for a long time, and then repeats... I saw a light.

I laugh anxiously. It’s disturbed—lost its mind.

I say, “It’s all right. Tell me what happened. We can—”

Without warning, it stands up and bolts into the forest, disappearing into a tree stand. Indecision grips me. I pause as my mind-altering trip wanes once more. Realizing that letting the creature vanish into the forest is healthier for my mind, the swaying trees bring relief. Something’s wrong with the thing, but I need to know. Despite my injury and knowing that this being is causing my disturbed feelings, I ignore my better judgment and sprint after it. I track footprints for hours. They go deeper into the woods, deeper into rough territory. Sometimes, its voice repeats that awful phrase from behind me. Other times, the creature’s words surround me, penetrate into me. Regardless, I follow the thing.

Another luna wolf howls in the distance. Why haven’t I heard them until now, goddammit? Why is this planet tormenting me? Why am I losing my mind?

Silence consumes the animal’s cry.

An overwhelming fear grips me. Terror fills my thoughts. I creep forward, listening for the creature’s movement, but stillness rings irrepressible. An unquenchable desire to see its wretched eyes once again overtakes me, to partake the narcotic again.

Footprints lead into the middle of a clearing.

I follow.

The tracks stop. Unmarked snow creates a mystery concerning the creature’s disappearance. I scan the area with the flashlight. My labored breath reverberates in my head. Frosty clouds expel from my mouth, creating smoky ghouls that gambol across the flashlight beam. Deep down, I know these steamy plumes are my final breaths, waning with starvation. Am I already dead?

I listen for movement.

Before me, a tree rim opens to reveal a drop-off. I peer over the edge. Bottomless. A strong desire to jump into the abyss passes through me. Jumping would finish this nightmare. Instead, I choose a rock from the ground. The creature’s presence returns as I toss the stone over the edge.

I stiffen.

My breath slows.

I sense the creature behind me. I dread the derangement of those eyes, so I do nothing. We stand like this for several minutes. Neither makes a move. A tear runs down my cheek. Its psychedelia emerges. Behind me, the creature whispers its mantra once again… I saw a light.

My sanity crushes under the weight of these curses echoing inside my head. Terror consumes me. Something the ship designer said about Okinawa enters my lightsome mind. Those dog-lion gargoyles that guard temples from evil spirits. A closed mouth keeps benevolent spirits inside. An open mouth wards off malevolence. Like these gargoyles, this vile being has two faces. I know this with every cell in my body. The creature’s opened maw hides its true nature.

I turn to face the inevitable. I turn to see its true face.