GN-3648

CW: Body horror.

My mother always encouraged me to shoot for the stars. Each cloudless night we gazed into the inky depths of space together, wondering what lay hidden beyond the infinite, twinkling specks. I dreamt of pioneering a rocket ship to places far beyond the reach of a telescope’s eye. I pictured myself as a celebrated captain, an inspirational hero who hungered for discovery and thirsted for adventure. I imagined planting a flag on planets across the galaxy, and spending the rest of my days purposefully lost in the endless echo of the universe.

I can’t recall exactly when this cosmic obsession began; I had always craved knowledge about the worlds that existed light-years beyond my own. By the time I entered school, I could name every known comet, asteroid, and moon, in the order they were discovered. I could recite every proposed theory about wormholes, speak for hours about the gravitational effects of black holes, and describe in vivid detail the events that preceded the explosive finale of a supernova. And of course, I was that relentless child that would don my spacesuit costume at every opportunity.

I even remember when the Exploratory Space Program was just an idea, a crazy concept siphoned from the pages of science fiction. “Why worry about space when we have our own problems down here?” the politicians would say. But as our oil and ore quickly disappeared their gazes turned toward the stars, as if the faraway lights held the answer to our world’s diminished resources. Suddenly, this idea no longer seemed crazy, and in no time the Exploratory Space Program finally created the technology needed to journey across the universe.

At last, the very thing I dreamt about all my life was within my reach. I decided that once I was of age I would apply to the program and undergo whatever training was necessary to earn my place in a distant galaxy.

So, when my mother told me to shoot for the stars, she truly meant it. My father, however, favored gravity, as he always used it to pull me back down to reality.

“Stop with this outer space nonsense,” he would say to me. Then he would turn to my mother and add, “And you, stop encouraging him. He’s weak, he was born weak, and he’ll always be weak. He’ll never amount to anything worthwhile.”

Due to a rare and incurable disease poisoning my body, I reluctantly concluded that my father was right. Since birth the hospital had been like my second home and my caring mother was like an honorary nurse. My father was more like a doctor, as he only dropped in occasionally to check on me.

I was a sickly child that grew into a sickly adult. Although my symptoms became manageable over time, there was ultimately no cure. Despite this, my mother's faith in my celestial passion never wavered. I'd like to think she died truly believing I would someday sail across the solar system. My father, always the pragmatist, died reminding me of my physical incapabilities that made me ineligible to join the ESP.

So here I was, decades later, seated uncomfortably in an office as I mindlessly processed paperwork. These years of monotonous routine have been my only comfort in a dreary life of loneliness and pain management. The closest connection I currently had to space was the background on my screen that displayed the planets in our solar system.

Gravity has weighed heavily on me and kept me grounded throughout these long years. But I can't help but imagine what it would be like if gravity was suspended, if I was free to float to the stars, untethered by the limitations of my life.

“Conrad, there's someone here to see you in the conference room,” my boss said, suddenly snapping me back to reality. I followed him down the corridor and thanked him as he held the door open for me. Seated alone at an empty table was someone unfamiliar, beckoning me to join her. Based on her attire she seemed to be someone of significance.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Charleston,” she said. “Please, have a seat. Well, I'll get straight to the point. We’ve been reviewing your employee file…”

I didn't know if she was some new boss or a representative from corporate, but I did know that spontaneous perusals of employee files could only mean one thing.

"Am I being fired?" I asked.

"Fired? More like promoted!" she laughed. "Mr. Charleston, I work for the government on behalf of the Exploratory Space Program. My team and I have been reviewing your file because we believe you are who we've been looking for."

"I'm sorry, did you say the Exploratory Space Program?"

"Yes. We would like to offer you the opportunity to become our very first space traveler."

"First?" I scoffed. That particular dream had died long ago. "There are hundreds already."

"They're more like glorified miners. They go to desolate planets, mine the resources we need, and return home. Not much 'space traveling' involved. What we're talking about is what the ESP was founded on, the exploration of space. And we've found the perfect planet willing to accommodate you."

“When you say 'accommodate’ do you mean…?”

“Yes. We’ve made contact with the species of another planet and they are waiting for you to arrive.”

No scenario in all my years of daydreaming and imagination could compare to what I felt in that moment. To be the first ever to descend from the stars and enter an alien world, to meet with the rulers of a distant planet, to stand in the presence of other intelligent beings...seemed too unreal. So unreal that practicality inevitably regained control of my senses.

“This is the most incredible opportunity I've ever had, but I won't be able to accept," I admitted.

"But isn't this your dream? We looked far back into your personal history and know you've always had an affinity for space."

"What I've always had is a terminal disease. I wouldn't be able to do it.”

"I'm going to be frank with you, Conrad," she said firmly. "We're aware of the severity of your illness, and your days are numbered no matter where you are in the universe. There's nothing to suggest this mission would exacerbate your condition, so why not achieve your lifelong goals with the time you have left? We're asking you to be part of something greater than yourself, something that could impact our world for generations to come. What do you say?"

"I say that I don't understand why you'd choose a loser like me."

"You're too defeatist, Conrad. I can tell that a lifetime of disappointment has made you that way. But we need someone with your passion and enthusiasm about space travel to explore the endless possibilities of the universe, starting with the expedition to this planet.

"Conrad, you're finally free to follow your dreams. Nothing's holding you back. So, will you be our first true pioneer in the universe?"

By the end of that week I had quit my miserable job and was fully briefed on everything I needed to know about my destination, Planet GN-3648. That's the scientific name the astronomers gave it, anyway. It was a small planet millions of light-years away, far past the radius of our mining operations. Compared to us its sun was much closer, its solar system held twice as many planets, and its orbital path was considerably faster.

This mission was classified as top-secret, known only by myself and a tight circle of officials. They expressed to me the importance of not disclosing this information with anyone else, but I assured them they had nothing to worry about. I had no one to tell.

Something else I was not meant to share was the confidential broadcast sent to us directly from GN-3648. In it was a recording of one of the creatures that ruled the planet, who the astronomers named "Genenites." During the broadcast a chasm in its face opened up and emitted a horrible shrieking sound, which apparently was the way that species communicated.

I was then given a translation device to attach to my body. Once turned on, the broadcast was replayed, only this time I could hear the translated message: "Hello, we can hardly wait for your arrival. We'll see you soon!" Utilizing the most advanced spaceship ever developed by the ESP, I would enter into hyper sleep and reach GN-3648 in just three years.

The physiology of the Genenites was both bizarre and fascinating. Apart from the speaking chasm they also had other holes in their faces, though I couldn't be sure of their function. These creatures were only about a third of our size, blinked with one too many eyes, and had grotesque skin stretched over their skeletal limbs. Although their appearance was horrendous, it was my duty to maintain professionalism in their presence once I arrived. The goal of this expedition was to discuss the trade of resources and hopefully set up a chain of negotiation between the planets.

And tomorrow I would step into my spacecraft to fulfill a long-forgotten destiny. I was proud to represent my world and overjoyed that I was finally doing something important with my life. At last I was going to make a difference, one that would be etched in the eternity of the universe.

As soon as my ship landed I awoke from hyper sleep and prepared to open the space hatch. I attached my translation device, suited up, and tried, unsuccessfully, to calm my nerves. Ready to make history, I pushed open the hatch and stepped out of my spaceship into the light of a new world.

I was immediately startled by the hideousness of the Genenites. Seeing images in a broadcast could not prepare me for how truly ugly they were up close. There were hundreds of them gathered around me, with only a small group of them dressed in white cloaks. I thought that perhaps they were the ruling class, as they stood in front of the others, so I looked directly at them as I addressed the crowd.

“Hello, citizens of this world! My name is Conrad Charleston. I am a space traveler sent here to represent the interests of my planet. My hope is to foster a long and fruitful relationship between our planets so that we may all mutually benefit.”

There was a long pause as the Genenites stared at me in silence. For a moment I thought the translation device was not working, but then what appeared to be a male stepped forward. He was draped in a white cloak that billowed in a sudden gust of wind. He sported extra-long limbs that caused him to tower over the others and stand at half my height, much taller than the average Genenite.

“Welcome, Mr. Charleston," he said. "You must be tired from your long journey. Please, follow me.”

We trekked a short distance to a massive structure made of a material I could not describe, as I had never seen anything like it. Once inside I saw hundreds more Genenites bustling about on their eerie, skeletal limbs. Their vocal chasms moved rapidly as I passed, though I was too far away to make out what they were saying.

"We have everything prepared for you," said the long-limbed Genenite. "Although you were in hyper sleep, it's important to let your body resume a natural sleep cycle. Here, we have a place for you to rest. That’s it, lay down." He pulled a needle from beneath his cloak. "A relaxant to help you sleep," he explained, plunging it into my skin.

When I woke up I hadn’t realize I’d fallen asleep in the first place. I immediately felt a strange resistance, and looking down I saw that I was strapped to a hard table, completely undressed. My only covering was a thin towel draped over my body.

“You shouldn’t be awake, Mr. Charleston,” Longlimbs said, suddenly appearing.

Before I could protest he pulled another syringe out of his cloak and pushed it into my skin.

“What are you doing to me?” I said weakly.

“Don’t worry, it'll all be over soon. You’ll be unconscious so you won’t feel a thing.”

Still emerging from the foggy haze of sleep, it took my mind a moment to catch up. As blurry objects came into focus I noticed that I was in a different room, laying beneath blinding lights, surrounded on all sides by strange equipment. To my left I saw scalpels of various sizes lined up neatly on a tray. No matter what planet you're from, a carving knife is a carving knife, intended for one purpose only.

It was now evident that the devices, although alien in form, were unmistakably meant for dissection, extraction, and experimentation. I was a specimen displayed on a table.

"You can't do this," I said. "The leaders from my world won't accept this. They will treat this as an act of war. You can't even begin to imagine what they could do to your planet."

I hope the bluff worked. I honestly didn't know what kind of retaliation this sick act would elicit, but I had to try to be convincing. Longlimbs, however, did not seem deterred. Though difficult to decipher his alien expression, I believe he looked upon me with sympathy.

"I feel the need to be honest with you, Mr. Charleston. Your government is completely aware of what’s going on. They sent you here intentionally. But don't worry, it’s all for a good cause, I assure you.”

I stared at him blankly.

"I don't understand."

“Due to your rare disease, you were going to have a short life anyway," Longlimbs explained. "The chemical makeup of the anomalies in your blood and organs is a death sentence for you. However, it can be a cure for the vast illnesses that plague our species. What we are doing here is meant to save lives."

"But...but I'm supposed to negotiate..."

"That was nothing more than a ruse so that you would have no intention of harming us or trying to escape. It was meant to instill trust so that you would come willingly into this facility."

This was illogical nonsense. Why would my leaders care about what happens on a distant planet? Why offer up one of their own to this puny species?

"You're lying. What could they possibly gain from sending me here?"

"You were exchanged for a hefty sum of money, converted to whatever the equivalent is in your currency. What they did with the money, I'm not sure."

"They sold me out?"

"I’m afraid so. The people of your world seem to be unimaginably callous and selfish."

He stretched out one of his lanky limbs and gently patted me, which I assume was meant as an act of comfort. But how could I be comforted? I was so focused on what I desired that I never even considered the danger. Now, I was going to die as a science experiment. I couldn’t erase the vision in my mind of my rotting corpse discarded in the desert, hollow after these creatures had harvested what they needed.

"My life was finally going to have meaning," I sobbed. “I was supposed to make a difference.”

Longlimbs patted me again.

“And you will, Mr Charleston. Of that, I’m certain.”

Just then, a group of white-cloaked Genenites surrounded me, brandishing sharp tools meant to cut into my flesh.

“Let me go, now!” I demanded. It suddenly occurred to me that I was huge compared to these creatures, that I could probably break the straps around my body with enough force. I thrashed and writhed and fought and battled, screaming threats and obscenities at my captors, but the effects of the syringe's fluid began to take their toll.

My body weakened, my efforts grew feebler, and my voice was fading away.

"No...no...you can't...can't...do this...can't...do...this..."

Longlimbs approached the table and whispered, "The people of Earth thank you for your contribution to science, Mr. Charleston. You’re doing a great service to the human race.”

The Genenites inched closer, equipment at the ready.

“We're ready to begin the dissection, doctor," one of them said. "What should we do with the body once we’ve finished?"

“Oh, just put it in storage with all the others. Wait, I almost forgot to remove this."

Longlimbs peeled the translation device from my skin and placed it in his white cloak. He continued to speak but I could no longer understand him. I only hear the wordless wailing of the shrill, alien language.

My vision blurred as if I was looking through the smeared lens of a telescope. Even the dwindling lights above appeared like stars obscured by a cloudy night. The shrieking of the Genenites quieted until I couldn't hear anything at all. A creeping numbness spread throughout my body until it fully consumed my senses, although I could still feel the emptiness of a purpose never fulfilled. It was the last thing I would ever feel.

Finally, I succumbed to the darkness and was embraced by a void as deep and infinite as space.