Deep in the Human Unconscious

Entry 3

I’ve been thinking. I have a lot of time to do that. And funny enough, it’s time that I’ve thinking about. But before I get into that, and beside the fact that I am turning green, I have something that I have seriously considered not mentioning in this journal that I feel needs to be acknowledged. Well, maybe it has to do with turning green actually. I’m turning into an alien for hells sake.

Anyway, I’ll start with my migration patterns. I’m finding myself trekking further into the darkness when it comes time to sleep, and what’s more is that I travel sunward after I wake up. You might think that this is a conscious choice, which to some degree it is, but I’ve noted that it is largely an instinctual behavior. I am driven to this by some internal biology crafted over millennia of evolution based on a 24 hour period of Earths rotation. It has me automatically creating my own night-day cycles by means of wandering to and from the light and the dark sides. Instead of staying in one spot while the rotation of the Earth drives the sun across the sky, I am the one orbiting it’s surface, or rather pingponging back and forth, in order to sync up to appease some deep recess of my internal physiology. It’s uncanny. I wonder what should happen when my physical ability to trek further toward one end of the light and the other begins to lose ground to my system’s ability to adapt to my circumstances. I’v walked hundreds of feet into the void, every sleep I feel like I can see more in that darkness. It’s amazing how fast biology adapts.

Obviously I am getting more accustomed to the dark. From what I can perceive though there is less of interest in the darkness as there is in the lightness. You’d think the bright side would see a decrease in vegetation as the sun’s perpetual rays would more easily sop up the hydration within the plants. The darkness should be a frozen tundra, while the light side should be a barren desert. But this doesn’t appear to be the case. Why this should be so perplexes me. A deeper investigation of these leaves has, though, left me thinking in amazement that they might be all a part of the same organism. One plant engulfing the entirety of the world. What an idea. The imagination flies. I wonder. Could these plants, or this plant counter the demands of the extremes of temperature by utilizing some sort of central regulating system, allotting the sun scotched side more hydrations, while exerting more energy to keep the dark side roots and leaves from freezing? It is astounding.

But aside from all of the scientific inquiry, I address something of which I can only speak of in scientific terms as a possible side effect of cognitive distress. Although, this is a very difficult thing to write, I’ve been seeing flashes of light. At first, I thought they were some magnetospheric phenomena similar to an aurora, but I’ve never heard of northern lights following you as you walked. In fact a purple light came to me the other night while I was trying to sleep. It lit up the darkness, and for a moment I thought I could almost see Lieutenant Bailey in the wisps. How do you differentiate psychosis from reality in a world that does in actuality exist whilst simultaneously exhibiting some of the strangest natural phenomena ever measurable. Everything here defies convention. But does this lend credence to the idea that I haven’t per-se, lost my mind? To play it safe I must assume that I am, for the time being, hallucinating, yet, this certainly represents something of utmost interest to any psychologists or physicists alike. [Commander Dalton quotes a passage from Frank Herbert’s Dune at this point yet he makes no effort to offer a citation. It’s been argued that he knew it was well known of him that Dune was one of his favorite works of fiction and considering his extraworldly ordeals he felt little need to formally acknowledge this fact.] “Deep in [the] human unconscious is a pervasive need for a logical universe that makes sense. But the [real] universe is always one step beyond logic.” For the sake of science, I will record every instance I have with those lights. They are becoming prevalent.

Dalton out.

A Chill Remains

Journal Entry 2

Not even wind blows. But a chill remains. My breath is ever so present. It reminds me that I am still alive. Everything is still. This place is frozen in time. I’ve been staring at the sun. No matter how long I do, it never moves. It just stays there in-between two shear peaks in the distance behind heavy atmosphere. It’s a dim, white circle barely distinguishable from the grey clouds. It’s unreal.

As for how I’m staying alive, I’ve mentioned those leaves. They are the only thing so far that I’ve found to be edible. Actually, they are nearly the only things whatsoever. There are a lot of them. They seem to blanket the planet’s surface. As for water, they too are my only source. They are like sponges. I’ve found no springs or rivers, otherwise. Aside from simply eating them I’ve been squeezing the water out and collecting it in a makeshift bowl I’ve taken from the wreckage of Heaven. I’ve been taking shelter in the old hydroponics bay. For the most part it’s the only section of Heaven that wasn’t obliterated in the descent. I’m worried about the reactors though. I haven’t been able to locate them. Wreckage is strewn out for what must be miles. I’ve no symptoms of radiation poisoning yet. That is good, I guess. It’s just isolation. I don’t even know how long I’ve been here. It can’t be more than an Earth week, but I’m really at loss for time reconciliation. You wouldn’t think about it unless you suddenly found yourself in a place where nothing moves other than your own internal mechanisms, but I’m beginning to think about time in a way I’ve never before.

I’ve been exploring some. And all I can say is, thank God I landed on the bright side of this rock, or giant sponge. The leaves are so thick, the world is almost porous, yet I think it must get stranger on the dark side. There is a sinking feeling as you stare into that dogged terminator, that unmoving line where darkness engulfs you. It’s more defined than I think it should be. A few steps in and you nearly immediately lose focus on anything whatsoever. It makes the pupils expand wildly grasping for any rays of light as if you were drowning in darkness. I’ve been cautious not to trek too far into that abyss. Once the sun is out of view there begins to be no points of reference at all. It’s just black. No stars, no anything, and if there should be some beast in that void that my mind wildly conjures up, surely, if I didn’t know it already, I’d know the death that awaits the hell-bound.

This planet used to be totally enclosed in the darkness, free floating in the abyss of space. I can only speculate on how the introduction of the sun has changed its constituents, its ecosystem and environment. Maybe this is the reason I’ve seen no animal life. The plants, surely, having utilized the energy of Hecate’s churning core never needing to maneuver must be experiencing something quite strange with the introduction of a light source, while the insects or animals used to the abyss must’ve scurried into the lightlessness. Perhaps evolution is already taking place. I can only imagine what’s going on over there.

I am going to sleep now. Sometimes it’s hard to keep my eyes open even though I’ve no idea of time or reference to it. I wish I could look forward to the rising sun though. Even in Heaven there was Gabriel [Gabriel was the AI of the Shuttle Heaven 1, in which Dalton is referring to its automated cyclical illumination phases.] But this place. The perpetual doom barely gives even metaphor an opportunity to touch a calloused heart. I have no dreams. It is just more blackness when I close my eyes. There is nothing there. There is no light at the end of the tunnel. There is no sunrise at the break of day. There is no break. It just doesn't happen. Even still, this planet burns in its core with unseen geothermal energy, like it my chest burns with a hope I cannot pretend is no thing—I wish I could see you, Sarah, my love. Goodnight.

Below is a rendering of Heaven 1 done by Alex Smith.

Thanks to Alex Smith we have a visual of what Commander Dalton's Heaven 1 Shuttle looks like!

Planet Builders: Descent into Hell

Audio Record 3

I’m going to set down on Hecate. It was our mission to gain first hand experience with this rock. I guess I’m going to get that. The SRE is not designed to land on a planet, butHeaven is lined with thermal soakers as was made mandatory ever since the governmentincreased NASA’s budget for space exploration. Never thought I’d be thanking the Government for anything useful. But right now these soakers are a Godsend. I’ve got a few issues to work around though still, and not much time. I can maneuver the SRE carefully into Heaven and secure it by extending my aft and port grapplers which should give it some sway on impact. It’ll be loose but it’ll have to do. Once I’m in I have a choice to make. I can either attempt to make my way toward the command center and see if I have any thruster control, or I can simply stay in the SRE and use it’s thrusters inside to coax Heaven into the atmosphere. Heaven’s command center, if operational, would give me a large advantage over where I set down. Ideally I’d want to set down in Goldilocks wedding ring. I’ve got a major problem though. There is no guarantee that I’ll have room to open the hatch once inside. And even if I do, then again there is no guarantee that I’ll be able to make it to the command center, not to mention I’ll be in open space at this point, a prospect I’ve never been too fond of even in controlled environments. Any wreckage floating around could easily pierce my suit. I’m not sure the best course of action yet. But I know that regardless, even with the soakers, I’ll need a burst-bomb to help with the heat and for the impact. Ideally I’d want to use that inside the closed compartment of the SRE—not the command center, as it is exposed to open space now.

[long pause]

Hell, there is no real science to what I’m about to try. Essentially I’m just ramming the SRE into a bigger piece of metal and pointing it toward that rock. 

Well, here goes nothing.

This could be my last entry. But in the off chance this record makes it down in one piece, there will be known of the first attempted planet landing by means of using a derelict craft as a shield. May the blessings of Heaven rain down from the sky.

It isn’t known what method Commander Dalton used in order to land the shuttle, but the wreckage strewn across the surface of Hecate indicates that he did in-fact stay inside the SRE while in descent. There was also found within the cockpit residue of a Thermal Impact Resistant Burst Grenade(burst bomb) suggesting that he did, at least momentarily, leave the SRE to obtain it.

What follows are the writings of Commander Dalton as taken from a notebook recovered from the downed Heaven 1’s SRE shuttle pod.

Personal Journal Entry 1

There aren’t words to describe what I’ve experienced in what I might call the last few days—if you can call them days. Maybe I’ll call them sleeps. But let me try to explain. As is apparent, I am alive, but just barely. My current condition is bleak. Beyond a few broken ribs, my vision is blurry. But I’m breathing, which is more significant than anyone might realize. This rock is apparently very habitable. I’ve been obliged to find this out the hard way. The air is muggy though. It’s almost like trying to breath underwater. That on top of the agonizing pain piercing through my body with every breath makes this place quite reminiscent of hell. And get this, I’m lying spread out upon some dense flora. As is only proper, I’ll explain them in detail. They sprout out of the ground showing four leaves dark purple in color. The leaves themselves are thick as cucumbers but in the shape of diamonds. Their surface is covered in bristly fuzz. And—they taste like oranges that have been growing mold. I haven't experienced any adverse side effects just yet. 

The sky is black and and dark blue, like my body. There are jagged mountains in the distance. Unfortunately there are no functional parts remaining on my shuttle. It is nearly obliterated. It looks like a Tranquil got t-boned by a Semi. My helmet is smashed to pieces. I’ve been picking shards out of my face since I came to. I don’t know how I survived this. One might call it another miracle, but it’s nearly sadistic. In some regard this is unimaginably exciting, but in another grave way, the gravity of this situation feels more than I can bare. 

Speaking of gravity, we knew the density of hecate, but to personally experience going from weightlessness to twice the gravity of earth is, perhaps, the worst part of this whole thing. My bones feel like they are splintering every time I try to stand up. Maybe they are. 

I am wholly and utterly alone on an alien world where I am already exhibiting the psychological effects of what might be called timelessness. The skies are forsworn to stand still. There are no stars. There is no moon. There is a tiny circle of white which trickles light through the denseness of the atmosphere. There is no day, and there is no night. It is perpetual twilight. The sunlight trickling through the denseness, while even itself stands frozen in place, as Hecate’s orbit remains tidal locked, for no damn reason at all.

I only wish I knew what happened to Heaven, and my crew. Sarah, I love you.

Planet Builders: Transcript of Commander Dalton's Second Entry

I have changed a few components of this story. I’ve shared notes at the bottom.

Audio Record 2

Personal Record. System Date 71.13.5.

Preliminary telemetry taken from probes launched from Heaven before the incident indicated that, despite its extremely dense atmosphere, manifesting itself in perpetual all encompassing cloud cover, there is a possibility that a fragile ecosystem could be sustained [This was previously predicted by Planetary Astro-biologist William Hurst who suggested the idea in response to an inquiry regarding new discoveries of alien life within the system.] 

Since Hecate’s arrival we were never ignorant to the idea that, like Enceladus and the moons of Jupiter,  there was a possibility of microbial life without disregard to larger forms making its presence known in much the same manner presumed for that of rogue planets, as we know Hecate once was before it fell into orbit. Geothermal energy providing the necessary warmth for biological life could easily serve to expedite the life-cycle process in the abyss of space, the heavy atmosphere acting as a blanket to keep in the heat deemphasizing the necessity of sunlight. A feature, however, that may or may not be pertinent but nonetheless noteworthy that was previously unknown of XT501, is that it is tidal locked with our Sun. There is absolutely no reason this should be the case other than uncanny coincidence. This is unprecedented.

[long pause]

There was…an anomalous sensor reading that, up until now, has never occurred. One of which Bailey brought to my attention merely minutes before I exited Heaven. It suggested that amidst its heavy nitrogen infused atmosphere—there are pockets of oxygen gases near the surface. This is evidence of plant life. And, be it unlikely, it suggest the possibility that large mammalian life could be sustained for periods of time.

You know how I told you that I only have 45 minutes left? Well, you can see where I’m going with this. I don’t like it anymore than you do but right now it is my only hope. Be it bleak. I’m going to attempt a planet landing. I’ve only got about 30 minutes of oxygen left so I don’t have anything to lose. But first, I want to describe—for the record— the course of events leading up to now as I remember it. Don’t worry, I’ll still be able to breathe for another couple hours or so.

The last thing I remember I was engaging Heaven’s repair module shuttle to do some maintenance before leaving orbit. Bailey—God bless her—informed me of the pockets of gas near the surface, and then the aft thrusters red light flashed indicating a malfunction of some sort. We’d been having minor issues with it for a few days. Otherwise everything on heaven was functioning properly. It didn’t appear to be too serious but I wanted to be one hundred percent before extending the Specter-sail and initiating the ion thrusters for our trip home. I suited up and entered the repair module but something terrible must have happened. 

As soon as I locked in and closed the hatch Heaven shook violently. Hernandez came over the com. “Commander!” was all I heard before it went static and then I saw Bailey through my window bounce off of the SRE’s exterior hull. For the life of me I don’t know what it could have been. I just saw… a flash of purple. Than I was out. The next thing I remember after that was opening my eyes and seeing Heaven’s exterior with a hole blown through her. I can see her right now in the distance. She’s a derelict craft, unsalvageable. But she may not be a complete loss. If the door to the bunks in Heaven were closed I couldn’t convince myself to go through with this plan of mine. Hernandez and Bailey might be on the other side of it. But that door is blown out. There is no doubt. They are in the vacuum of space. I don’t see how they could have survived. Neither one of them had a suit on the last I recall. I’m only alive because I was repairing Heaven. I’m sorry.

Notes: I’ve been struggling with a few main components of the story. Due to conflicts of mind I have decided to change the previously determined state of Hecate from a newly discovered extra-Kuiperbelt dwarf planet beyond the orbit of Pluto to a rogue-planet that has fallen into orbit much closer than its previous state. In fact, for the time being, I am intending for it to have fallen into orbit something of 90 degrees off the plane of the ecliptic at about 5 AU from the Sun. Essentially, it is orbiting, for lack of better words, vertically as opposed to horizontally around the Sun as the other planets are. 

Also, it has, from the timeframe of the story (which I haven’s specified) been safely orbiting through the path of Jupiter for nearly eight years. Commander Dalton’s mission was to gain more information so a plan could be established, as within the next one hundred years their orbits would no longer be expedient for the safety of the system, especially Earth. You’ll understand why I needed to make this change as the story continues.

Notes on Planet Builders: Technobabble

Notes on Planet Builders

I am writing Planet Builders primarily for one reason, that of asking a question I have found relatively few answers to. My intent is for Commander Dalton to ask the question within the narrative of his journal entries. As to the question itself, perhaps there is a simple answer, however, if this should be the case, from my understanding it is one that hasn’t been explored or developed in any way as to offer common understanding to any real end.

That said, by no means am I qualified to write of the chemical composition of planets in any way that might align with real scientific truth. I don’t really feel too well about using words I don’t have any experience using, or attempting to technobabble my way through to the ends I have dreamt up. I don’t wish to offend those who truly are capable of using those words, or be insincere by misrepresenting my understanding of the sciences involved. In fact, I feel physically ill somewhat by using technical jargon I am unqualified to use.

So, to this first draft that I am endeavoring to post sections of weekly I must give a disclaimer that I may be using filler words to progress the plot which may not in reality apply to any true scenario. I don’t think I could justify doing this with a final draft, however, there does need to be a percentage of creative license as this is purely a work of fiction. 

I thoroughly intend to consult those who are in the know concerning planetary sciences as well as chemistry and biology for my final project so I can have a greater certainty that the scientific terminology used in Planet Builders is as appropriate as is possible given within the framework of the fantastic nature of fiction. It’s just that for now, I am constrained by my ignorance concerning the scientific realities of which I must present my character for him to ask the questions I want to ask which do apply to physical reality.

I will post the second audio recording of Commander Dalton early Monday morning. Stay tuned.

Planet Builders Dedicated Blog

Planet Builders is an experimental idea that I had awhile ago that allows me to entertain the process of creative writing while remaining free to change, update, and perfect a story one line at a time in open sight of any viewers. This means that I will write a section, keeping in my mind an overarching plot, yet, even after posting remain free to alter any elements of the story as new ideas generate and exterior influences sway the course of events within the construct of the story. Instead of posting a completed work, I want the process to unfold before your eyes and flow as a dream taking no regard to the bounds of time, consequences, or even space, as the characters fates will utterly be changed before the readers eyes. Ultimately, this will evolve into a unified and finished story. I have the entirety of it mapped out but for now its reality remains in my mind as flowing as the possibilities are in dreams.

There are several levels of completion. The first posts, as is normal, will remain merely first drafts of my ideas of where Planet Builders ought to go. Before the readers eyes, I have no doubts the plot will change over time. I have no intent on keeping with the norm for this story. This will go where my dreams take it. Nowhere else. See you on Hecate!

Below is the introduction, as well as the first recovered recording from Commander Thomas Dalton of the long-ranged manned shuttle craft, Heaven 1.

Part 1

The Chronicles of The Planet Builders, as it has been dubbed by the public, easily, in terms of crypticness, surpasses all other logs ever recovered by missing or deceased military or space fairing individuals. So detailed are the entries recorded by Commander Thomas Dalton of the Deep Space Surveyor manned Shuttlecraft, Heaven 1, that one, being unaware of the reality of the incident could easily upon reading the transcript of his personal entries slip into a fantasy world he or she might presume to be written by his or her favorite novelist.

For nearly ten years Dalton’s personal account of the tragedy he suffered through was kept from the public, reportedly at the request of the his family. Though it is widely believed that Blaze Tech., the independent space firm responsible for the long range manned shuttle craft to Hecate wished to keep the word from spreading about the fantastic nature of Dalton’s last written testimony concerning extra-terrestrial life. 

Had the incident not taken the life of this distinguished father, brother, and husband, one might have without hesitation considered the journal entries a brilliant work of fantasy/science fiction. But because of the troubling and bazaar circumstances that surrounded Dalton’s disappearance, and then later the recovery of his body on the deep orbital dwarf planet classified as XT501, or more recently endowed Hecate, the journal remained locked away. After its declassification, NASA officials working in conjunction with Blaze Tech cited the fact that no one in the throes of grief as Dalton’s family surely was could manage to read the log entries without a sense of disturbing surrealism, so they purportedly, on due ground, kept Dalton’s words from the public for reverence to his family in the face of unequivocal frustration and heartache. 

How could it be that a man of distinction and discipline, a man as dedicated to the furtherance of science and truth, such as Commander Dalton, a man who prided himself on precision, and a strict observance of the scientific method resort to conjuring up, presumably in full knowledge that he knew what he recorded might be recovered long after his death, wild and fanciful stories in his entries. Even in them, you will see, he appears to be completely coherent and aware that his record may be found one day.  So why would he make up such a strange and impossible story to serve as his last testament in describing a new and as yet at the time unknown world. 

Many have offered their explanations, some popular ones being that he was delirious from a head trauma, to the planet being of cesspool of hallucinogenic substances, to the more fantastic that he was purposefully creating an elaborate story for some unknown reason, to him simply cracking under extreme mental fatigue and space delirium. Each of these possibilities have waxed and waned in credibility over the decades as new evidence about Hecate is discovered. But there remains one most popular explanation that even the most staunch empirically minded scientist can’t honestly say hasn’t entertained for even just a moment. What is that explanation? The only one where Commander Dalton remains a coherent, honest leader figure. It is the explanation that everything in the logs that he recorded for those 115 days were actually true. What if Commander Dalton was the first known person to interact with an intelligent alien life form that not only defies the conventionally understood ways that life has evolved in the universe, but moreover utterly resembles the myths and ancient lores conjured up by the worlds greatest fantasy writers. What if the universe truly is filled with “more strangeness stacked upon more strangeness” as Dalton puts it himself, than any of us in our generations have ever conceived possible?  

It was only when his Grandson Trevor Dalton requested to hear the records for himself that they were eventually released for public evaluation. The Planet Hecate’s Wikipedia page under Dalton’s Chronicles quotes a passage from Dune, the fictional story written by Frank Herbert, “Deep in the human unconscious is a pervasive need for a logical universe that makes sense. But the real universe is always one step beyond logic” in an attempt to realize what very well could be, in some eyes the way the universe operates truly. And apparently it might seem that Dalton just happened upon a moment in space and time, like many others before him in less striking but nevertheless mysterious ways, that testifies to the strangeness of the real universe we live in.

A somewhat frustrating fact to be reconciled is, that upon several manned missions back to the planet in recent years, including the one that recovered his body, no evidence has ever been found to validate a single word Dalton wrote. Maybe the most striking element to The Planet Builders were Dalton’s Planet-Men. They, slow moving statue like creatures have been nowhere to be seen, which is somewhat perturbing, especially to those who have passionately pressed the reality of Dalton’s words.

What follows is the unedited transcript of Commander Dalton’s 115 days outside of the Shuttle Heaven 1. The first three entries are recovered audio recordings but after the initial descent into Hecate, all recording devices were presumed destroyed and so he was left only with a single pen and notebook that he was able to procure before his daring attempt to use the ghostly shell of Heaven 1 to enter the planet’s atmosphere—his first entry being nearly one hour after maneuvering his extra-vehicular pod out to perform repairs on the hull of Heaven. 

Audio Record 1 Recovered from Heaven’s SRE Shuttle Pod

Personal record. System Date 71.13.5.

Commander Dalton of the long ranged shuttle-craft, Heaven One, reporting. I am sending this transmission out with no hope of rescue. At this time, I take it upon myself to acknowledge and account for a terrible accident—for the record. It’s an accident of which remains anomalous and unaccounted for, as I am incapable of understanding the events which led to the demise of my crew and the incapacitation of my vessel.

Our mission to the outer edge of the system to observe first hand the newly discovered deep-orbital dwarf planet, XT501, is an utter failure. I am currently situated in Heaven’s SRE shuttle holding a parallel orbit with her. There is no sign of Bailey or Hernandez, and considering the depressurized hull and derelict state of Heaven, I am under no assumption that they are still alive. I have a direct view of Heaven right now. There is a hole in the side of her three meters round. The only thing I can think of is that we must have been hit with some sort of space debris. Whatever it was it was certainly bright. I hesitate to admit, that… it was nearly purple in color. Or, at least that’s what I remember. 

I’ve attempted to notified Pluto Base of our predicament. I mean… my predicament. Unfortunately, I can’t be certain my distress calls have been heard since there has been extensive damage done to all of my systems, as well. And even if a transmission were able to be sent out, no one would be capable of launching a rescue mission. Mars base is on the opposite side of the system. By now, Earth certainly knows something is wrong because communications have been severed. But an investigation won’t be able to arrive here for another 200 days. And that’s if Blaze gets on it immediately. That said, I have about forty-five minutes. After that my oxygen reserves will be depleted. The SRE wasn’t designed for extended jaunts into the abyss, and apparently I’ve already been in this beast for over eight hours. I just came to. The fact that I haven’t been hurled off into the void is a miracle at any rate. But I’m still going to die. Some miracle. Nothing that can be done really. No one to blame. But I sure as hell would like to know what happened to Heaven. 

To Sarah and my family, I love you. And to the families of my crew, you have my deepestcondolences. There aren’t words to describe my sorrow for your loss. God bless. Commander Dalton, out.