No One Understands

Submitted into Contest #110 in response to: Write about a character on the road — and on the run.... view prompt

0 comments

Coming of Age Science Fiction Speculative

Journal Entry #142 (Earthen Cycles)

I got a visit from the royal guard again today. It’s been so long since their last attempt I thought they’d given up and moved on. Three whole years of peace and utter bliss has lulled me into a state of confusion. I should’ve known they’d never stop. So now I have to remember why I’m here.

The vibrations of car engines soothe the raging space pilot in me, that’s one of the main reasons. Gyrating through the mysterious wonder of space and stars above can always be interesting, but I’ve only ever been so captivated. The scout ships at home were built to be safe, quiet, and invisible for the purpose of watching life on neighboring planets or avoiding capture by hostiles. We essentially traded the controls for efficiency eons ago. Being placed in a stasis chamber and zapped awake by an AI alarm clock butchered the whole ‘focus on the journey and not the destination’ idea that humans have managed to preserve in their collective wisdom. On planet Grafo, spacecraft are only piloted manually in short tales of violence and conquest that were said to be as old as time itself. Human beings are a special breed. 

Talak’s engine growled into the early night and echoed off the canyon walls towering above us. I make sure to press the pedal all the way to the floor when I rocket through any terrain. That’s the right way to drive, the whole ship roars to life and becomes my favorite traveling companion. Or my only one I guess.

 The last of the sun's rays were still melting the black of night into a deep plum purple. The chalky orange of the surrounding rock erupted towards the sky in such an artistic way that I was convinced I was driving through a famous painting. Human beings have it real nice here. I wonder how they have the capacity to look towards the stars from the surface of a planet as gorgeous and distracting as this one. I’m not sure if it’s something I respect or find foolish.

The cool wind whips my face through the open windows, trying to overload my senses and get me to stop wiggling the car left and right on the straight road. I couldn’t help it, turning the steering wheel and feeling Talak follow my command without hesitation… I don’t know there’s just something about it. Makes me feel more bonded to the experience and less like glorified cargo. I’m what they call ‘lucky’ that me and Talak didn’t stop swerving like maniacs though.

Otherwise the flying translucent orb that tried to ram us would've succeeded. After the Grafoan spacecraft whooshed past, I slammed on the brakes and swung my door open in a hot fury. 

The Ford Mustang Boss 429 was the first of my collection of mechanical ships. Three years isn’t enough time for my brain to lose grip of the sweet memory of my first joyride in those bucket seats. Outracing the human military and Grafoan scouts in the driver’s seat of a stolen car was the first time I’d ever felt like a real pilot.That night I was in total control of where I went AND how I got there. All thanks to Talak. And this Grafoan asshole tried to smash him to pieces!

The orb instantly stopped, then silently lowered itself to the ground. Even landing the ship had no personality. It seems unnatural to not even hear the metal scrape against the asphalt. Whatever Grafoan came up with the idea to make those things mute was also tasteless. At this point, the stars above peppered the black void of night with enough light to see with. I just realized the scout made me miss the sunset. The sky is easily the second reason that I find myself unable to leave. Every day is a different type of beautiful.

The orb let out the tiniest hiss as a hatch swung open from the top and the Grafoan scout lifted himself out. He slid down the side of the cloaked ball of technology, almost looking like he was gliding before he thumped to the ground in front of me. His visage twisted with disgust as he made out my features. 

“Sire, why do you choose to wear their face?”

I haven’t seen one of my own in a while, so the pale blue skin with the big bulging eyes thing kind of threw me for a second. I guess I see how me rearranging my molecules to resemble an adult African American male would make one of them feel the same. I like being able to fit in here, I didn’t waste my time explaining to another Grafoan. It’s not considered ‘proper’ for a descendant of royalty to shift into another form. None of them would get it.

I haven’t spoken my native tongue in a while either but it didn’t take me long to remember how to tell him to leave me alone. I tell him how I don’t want to lead planet Grafo just because my father passed. I remind him that my name is Kekro, and the title of Sire should rest beneath the same cloud of dust as the original king.

“But Sire, King Talak wanted you to have his title. The rule of Grafo belongs solely to you.”

Eventually the visit ended like every other. My supposed command as king still expands to this planet so if I say leave then they leave. They’ll come back though. 

This time really made me think. I sat back in Talak with the engine running. The vibrations hugged me. My father’s face flashed through my mind, evoking feelings that I haven’t touched since I landed on Earth. Would he have really wanted me to stay on Grafo?

Kekro. I haven’t heard anyone utter my true name since I escaped my fate. Maybe that isn’t who I am anymore. I haven’t used my original molecular setting in what feels like ages. I don’t even know what I used to look like. 

I have to remember why it is that I’m here but I’m torn. I looked at the stick shift resting in my palm, waiting for me to start the next adventure. Yet I was troubled. The canyon walls peered down at us from their great heights, patiently standing by while I questioned myself. 

Is a kingdom's need for a king greater than that of a pilot's need for his ship? To me both are pairs that can only exist together. Grafo is my father’s kingdom. Talak is my ship.

I know now. The third reason I’m here is because I choose to be. Nobody else needs to understand. My foot pounces on the gas and we blast off to finally be swallowed by the gorgeous Grand Canyon.

September 11, 2021 02:23

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

0 comments

Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in the Reedsy Book Editor. 100% free.