Mother Prophet

Tal placed his blue, three-fingered hand on the viewport in his ship as he looked out. He had found another uncharted solar system. It sat on the edge of the galaxy and was not charted on any maps. At the center was a yellow dwarf that bloomed into a burning red giant. The red heat painted his ship in crimson light, and the star was growing fast. Undoubtedly, it had already consumed one if not two of the innermost plantes. He was looking for the forgotten empire. There were whispers throughout the galaxy of a nation that ruled the edge of the galaxy with a greedy hand. Unmatched in all, bowed to none. Then one day, like a sudden chill, they vanished from every fold of the heavens. No one knew where they lived, only that they were the third planet from a yellow dwarf. Tal theorized that since the forgotten empire’s reign was millions of years ago, and by Tal’s time, their star would have matured. He had been hopping from red giants, searching every planet, hoping that the forgotten empire was not consumed by their star. Tal counted two planets from the star, assuming one had already been eaten by the dying star. He set the coordinates to the second planet from the star and started his descent downwards. His ship entered the almost nonexistent atmosphere. Only small traces of carbon and oxygen could be found, not enough to support any significant life. When he scanned for living things, bacteria hardly appeared.

He sought Mother Prophet. She was said to be the sole survivor of this lost nation with the ability to foresee the future of an empire.

Who knew how many empires she had condemned to destruction? Some said she used complex math that the galaxy had never seen the likes of to calculate her productions; others say she had discovered magic and directed the rise and fall of empires. Regardless of math or magic, he needs to know the future of his people. As he dropped lower to the planet’s surface, he could see what was left over. The oceans had dried up into seas of dunes. The wind blew hard, chewing every green thing into dust. Only metal strutters stood out of the sand dunes. They were tall and tightly packed together. The metal was still shiny and reflected the blood glow of the red giant. The metal made seamless angles and curves as if it were carved from a single block. Even then, they were covered in holes from wind blasting them with sand.

If Mother Prophet were alive, somehow living on this wasted planet, she would be the only one. He increased the range of his scanners, and there was a spike, not large, but large enough to be intelligent. Tal was almost surprised he had found something. In his search for countless planets, thousands of questions with no leads, and now he had found a strong possibility? He had been away from his home and loved ones for years, how many years? He had lost could but enough to grow old. He would close his eyes and picture the sunrise over the mountains and exotic vegetation of his home world, but that memory, once clear, now blurred into a spiral of color. It was almost unbelievable, almost enough for him to assume his equipment was broken. Desperation was too strong, even if the planet was uninhabitable, even if his scanner was giving false readings, even if the stories he heard were nothing more than fairy tales told in the furthest corners of the galaxy, he would keep on looking.

He put in the new coordinates for the possible life. His ship made a hard right before speeding up. Tal looked out from the viewing port. It was all the same, sand on more sand. No rock peaked out as the wind had ground them down with sandstorms. Only unrecognizable metal structures withstood the millions of years. They were tall and thin, some reaching to the upper layers of the atmosphere. But he could not distinguish what a single one would have been used for. It was their degraded conditions that made their purpose unknown. Time and elements that had erased all distinguishing features. Or they were well preserved, and they were merely alien to him. To the people of this forgotten empire, their purpose would have been clear.

Tal imagined what they would be. There was one structure that caught his eye. It was wide, and the base slowly increased in height through a gentle curve up till it ended in a sharp point. He tapped his finger on his rough-skinned chin; it was a building of war. The sharpness of the point would have instilled fear and danger. Their top generals and war heroes would have gathered to discuss their next conquest across the stars. No, the soft curve was easy on the eyes. It must have been a museum, filled to the brim with art and culture, and the building itself was a statement as well. Though it was tall, very tall. Maybe it was a temple to their gods, an attempt to reach them in the heavens.

Tal’s ship came to a halt and landed on one of the slants of a dune. He suited up in a full environmental suit to combat the unforgiving surface. The suit was tight-fitting around his uniquely shaped body. His helmet was a perfect opaque ball, but internal screens provided him with sight. He stepped out of his ship and onto the planet. The sand under his feet was powdered with bits of metal and glass mixed in. On the next dune was a figure.

He approached them. Was this the Mother Prophet? They were not particularly tall or anything. No visible tail, wings, or tendrils. They were bipedal with two arms. An environment suit covers all of their body, but the suit was an old type. There was no thin, lightweight, form-fitting material. It was clear that the suit had been damaged many times; there were mismatched materials and parts that no longer functioned. It was heavy and baggy and gave no indication of the shape of their body. Metal and flexible tubes flowed to and from every part to connect canisters and vents. Their helmet was metal and had no viewport but a single black lens camera in the upper right corner.

Tal stood before them. He didn’t know what to say. Was this truly the Mother Prophet? He wanted and hoped that they would speak first, but as time went on, they stayed silent. Their feet shifted, and they started to turn their backs on Tal. He reached out his hands, “Don’t leave, are you Mother Prophet?”

They faced me again; a muffled static came out of their suit, but the sound slowly became clear. “Yes, I am, child. Why have you sought me out?” Her voice was rough and hard.

“I have come to seek your wisdom. There is a revolution, civil war, and discord in my nation. Our enemies scheme to divide us and have already split the spoils. Tell me, Mother Prophet, what is the future of my people and nation?”

She looked up at Tel, “You seek truth? You seek a prediction? You come before me, a forgotten prophet of a forgotten empire on this forgotten planet?” She grabbed his hands, “Come with me, I will give you what you seek.”

She led him by the hand into one of the abandoned cities. The buildings towered over them as the shiny metal reflected the red light on them. Tal attempted to imagine what Mother Prophet looked like. An ancient race with no images or paintings of them to speak of. They could be anything, covered in fur from top to bottom and small quills poking out. Or a gelatinous red goo, and she needs the suit to walk around. Perhaps a colony of small fish that possess the ability to breathe air. Tal stopped mid-theory when Mother Prophet spoke. He had to wait for the static to clear up before he could hear her.

“Do you know what we stand in child?”

Tal tilted his head. Where did he stand? A city, of course, but what did she want him to answer? He didn’t know what the city was used for or if any notable figures resided here. He chose to respond with what he knew.

“A city?” Tal said.

“And what else can you tell me about this city?”

He shook his head, “I am sorry, I can’t.”

“This was once the greatest city in all of the galaxy. Every species and alien flocked here. I even saw vagabonds who traveled the stars settle here because of its beauty. Now it is nothing. This once fierce nation of philosophy and culture has been ground down to sand and steel.”

She paused in her step and turned still with her hand tightly around Tal’s. She pointed at something. He moved his eye and followed the line that she saw from her finger, a tunnel, a small, deep, dark tunnel that went into the ground.

“What’s in there?”

“The truth.” She let go of his hand and walked to the tunnel where the light and dark met, “If you truly seek it, follow me.”

She turned her back on him and allowed darkness to swallow her whole. No light, no sound, only a soft, cold breeze came from the tunnel. Tal closed his eyes, took a breath, and entered the tunnel.

“Mother Prophet? Where are you?” He couldn’t see anything. It was not merely dark, but rather, darkness that filled him with dread and put a weight on his heart. He reached for a switch on his suit that would turn on a light, but before he could, she called to him.

“No lights, follow my voice.”

He did as instructed and used the sound of her voice to find her. His arms were outstretched to guide him along a wall. It was smooth and cold, and so too was the ground under him. Suddenly, he felt something grab his hand, but once he heard static, he knew it was Mother Prophet.

“Good, you followed me, the truth is far.” She led him through the blindness of the cave. “Only a few would ever come this far to seek the truth.”

“You do not make mere predictions but foresee?”

“Yes, I know what happens, isn’t that what a prophet is, a herald to what will come?”

Tal became increasingly intrigued with this female. How could someone be so confident in the future? Did she develop fourth-dimensional technology and had seen everything that had and was to be? Did she discover true magic that would whisper dreams about the future of nations? Or she was Mother Prophet, and God spoke through her.

A light flashed on as a heavy door slid open.

“Come inside, this is my home,” she called to Tal.

He entered her simple home. It was spacious for one, but cramped for two. It was a circle with shelves built into the walls, and every one of them was packed with equipment. Machines for all of her needs jerked as they produced oxygen, water, and nutrients. In the middle was a mat with a table and spots for two people to sit.

“Come sit down.”

Tal sat down on the mat as he watched her prepare something. She grabbed the half-sphere cups and filled them with water. She sat opposite from Tal and sprinkled some powder in the cups before handing one to him.

“Take off your helmet, you can breathe here.” There was a spit of steam as Mother Prophet twisted her helmet. Tal leaned in closer to get a better look at the prophet. She set down her helmet. Her skin was dark and naked with two vertical white strips that equally divided her face into three parts. The nose was short, but the lips were full. Her eyes were complex, white surrounded by a brown and black center that looked like a supernova. They were sharply focused and tired. It was clear that she was old, perhaps too old to be surviving in a place like this.

Tal, likewise, took off his helmet, but she had no reaction to his appearance; she only sipped on her drink. He didn’t want to disrespect her, so he drank from the cup too. The taste started warm before becoming sweet and finished bitter. The bitterness made Tal scrunch up his face and want to spit it out, but he came back again for the warm and sweet flavors.

“Every nation is like this drink,” Mother Prophet spoke, and somehow her voice sounded rougher than it did coming out of the damaged communicator of her suit. “My nation started warm, soft, and gentle. We ran across this planet naked, hunting with stones and sticks, before we decided we belonged among the stars. Then we got a taste of the cosmos, and we wanted more. We became sweet, and it was such a delicious sweetness. We explored every star, every planet, and every culture we found. We wanted it all and ruled our part of the galaxy for us to enjoy. Then it became bitter. We forgot why we were here. We traded wonder for war, culture for sin, and truth for lies. We vanished from the galaxy, the minds of every living thing, no one can even remember our names. Others might have become jealous of us and decided that we should be wiped out. It could have been our own destruction; we grew too large, and like the star that looms over us, it will grow and grow until it implodes. Maybe it was God who punished us for our transgression.”

What did this mean? Was this her prediction? Did he want an answer? Did he seek the truth even if it condemned his nation to destruction? “Does this mean my nation turned bitter?” he said with a shake to his words.

She looked at him with a hard eye, “Yes, it is over with them. The galaxy has already forgotten them as they forgot us.”

No! No! It couldn’t be true. Tal slammed his fist on the table. He ran his hands over his head. As tears started to pool and flow down his face. How was there no hope, nothing they could do to change their fate? He found the truth; he questioned if he wanted to find it. He assumed some action could save his people, technology, a chosen one, or repentance of their sins. They had been dammed. What would be the point of going back and warning his people of their destruction? He had wasted his time finding an answer as the people were killed. It would be the same if he lay down and died.

Mother Prophet lifted his chin and wiped away his tears, “Tears will not change anything, child. I learned that a long time ago.”

She stood up and pointed at me. “You will be a prophet; you will go and warn them. Not your people, but the nations to come after them. You will be the survivor. It will be up to you to be the first and last of your kind.” She took from one of the shelves a jar and put two figures in it. They dripped with white liquid. She ran her fingers over Tal’s face so that two white lines divided his face into thirds.

“You are now a prophet. Be their arbiter, be the herald that tells the children of nations to come and to fall, speak with guidance of a father, become Father Prophet.”