Flash In The Pan

Sapient, inhuman, and brilliant: This silver star deep in space—was just like me.

When it first contacted, I was surveying distant planets.

My ship radio crackled, and I answered.

I greeted half-heartedly, expecting a distress call or check-up, but the voice I heard was like static itself.

Barely intelligible words croaked through with regal gravitas.

The oddity blindsided me; it my hair stood on end.

This wasn't a radio error. It could’ve been a prank or even a malicious vessel, but curiosity quelled my fear. Further conversation squashed any concern entirely.

The lifeform (whom I named “Koda”) was fluent in English despite never having spoken to a human. Their species communicated via radio waves, and after eavesdropping on us, Koda claimed proficiency.

After brief talk, we settled to meet near a planet on the edge of human exploration.

We found ourselves to be comparable. Koda is as much a genius for its own people as I am to mine.

The long travel made me restless so I introduced Koda to human games to pass the time. This creature proved an intellectual equal in any competition. Oh, a species capable of thinking on my level was dreamlike. Long-awaited freedom from the dullards I’ve drudged through like mud since I was born. Desire filled me with a hope that eluded me for so long.

For the first half of my journey, and for the first time in my life, I had someone to call a friend.

* * *

I contacted Koda the same way I always did— “Koda? Would that be you?” —and received the usual response:

“Yes, Cooper.”

During pointless and regrettable small talk, Koda inquired about space travel.

“Before, you said humans cannot survive the vacuum of space, so how is it you travel?”

I gave a simple answer. “We use complex machinery to facilitate space travel. The latest high speed model is my own invention, won an award for it even,”

“An award is some object important to humans, yes?” It detected my boast.

“Important to all but the exceptionally unexceptional. Trophies are for top competitors and those with major accomplishments; great inventors like me or uh… the winner of a race,” I said in uptalk.

“Race?” Koda imitated me.

“A competition in covering distance quickest. I've won track awards too. Mostly metal circles engraved with ‘First Place’ because they couldn't be bothered with effort," I scrawled the medallion on a sheet of paper.

“Why care? It does nothing and has no value, yes?”

Koda’s matter-of-fact response irked me.

“It isn’t the value, it’s the recognition, Koda. People know I’ve done great things when they hear of my accolades. They’ll give me plenty of awards for contacting an alien species too,” I chuckled.

***

Weeks passed, and I received the first of many harassments.

Ahem, “Koda, would that be you?”

“Certainly it is,” A voice responded.

Like when I first spoke with Koda, the diction was stiff and regal.

A painfully atypical response.

In suspicion, I attempted to catch inconsistencies. I made reference to our past conversations as naturally as I could. There was nothing glaring, but the voice evaded concrete statements and used vague language.

The final nail in the coffin was its wit. Koda and I were equal, although we were advantaged in our home games. This imposter was terribly unskilled, and stated my every victory as sheer fortune.

This could not be Koda. Nothing so foolish, snide, and stubborn in defeat could be Koda.

Countless transmissions came, each with uncertainty.

All had the same voice, though it was clearly a different person every time.

For weeks the universe blew past my window while I answered endless pestering calls.

I felt like an asylum inmate, tormented by voices of unknown origin, trapped in a cell of my own making.

***

With immense relief, I came to my destination.

Slver stars smothered the void. Darting at impossible angles as they dwarfed my ship like houses on fire. When I took in this wondrous sight, my only thought was that such remarkable forms were wasted on those pests.

I picked up the transceiver one last time—forgoing my monotonous greeting.

“This is Cooper, who am I speaking to?”

“Yes, Cooper?” Koda asked confused.

“Koda? Would that be you?” The response surprised me.

“Yes, Cooper,”

“Where have you been! What of all those others who spoke in your place?” I hunched over my radio.

“They had some fun at your expense, sorry Cooper. We spoke long enough, so I took a brief rest,”

“That’s it? Why didn’t you inform me? Why leave me alone for weeks on end?”

Such thoughtlessness was baffling.

“There was no reason to. You had direction and the company of friends. You were not alone, were you?”

“I have no desire to call those dim tricksters ‘friends’. You should follow me. We can leave them behind and I can introduce you to the human race. As I’ve told you many times they'd be delighted to meet you and would certainly honor you,”

“Would I enjoy meeting them? You never spoke well of humanity. You find my people detestable but are yours any different?” Koda asked.

“Yes, they are just like your people! And I wanted nothing to do with them either.” I took a deep, shaky breath. “You are different—I hoped you all were. You are special, you aren’t like them. My people love me, they put me on pedestals, award me gifts, and titles of prestige. You could be like me. Your people don’t value you. They have given you nothing. No honor, no awards—they don’t even respect your name! Each one I spoke to claimed to be you.”

The lack of interest infuriated me.

“If everyone is bothersome, why meet more? Recognition is meaningless. I desire nothing aside from good company. Why not be like we are? Roaming is as valuable as any other task. Maybe you’ll come to like the others,” Offered Koda.

For unknown time I held the transceiver in my hand. Meandering being of value was and is preposterous. Had one been doing something during that time like surveying or pondering, it might be useful.

The universe is far too vast to travel uninformed, you’d die before you found anything of note.

Venom seeped into my tone.

“That’s all you do? You wander around like everyone else—live like people who can’t begin understand you. Wandering is for those whose thoughts can’t take them further than their bodies,” I smiled wryly.

Every window shone silver as a star drew close. It was Koda, and too bright to look at.

My hair stood straight, and Koda’s voice boomed over the radio.

“It is no wonder you contacted us first. Since you raced long ago you were the best at moving too quickly.” Feedback whined in my ears. “Tell me, if no one else’s thoughts reach past their body, then who placed you so high above? What can you do that makes you so special?”

“Plenty! I can do plenty and I already have! If you don’t waste time floating about, there’s much you can do. The others have seen it, everyone knows it, nobody can ignore it—not even me! I’ve done more than any of them.” My voice begun to growl. “Don’t you see? Who else could do so much in so little time? I rival your very own intellect, you know that! I’m special—find me one human—someone like me—anyone… and I’ll concede.”

Finding a satisfying ultimatum, I leaned back from the radio and shuddered as I tried to calm myself.

Koda began to mock.

“Plenty by your own standard. Like those others do so little in your eyes, all you ever do will be little to us. Human life only scratches one-hundred years. To us, time is of no significance.”

I grimaced.

“What?” I sputtered like an imbecile.

Koda then spoke as if struck by an epiphany.

“Maybe finding someone like you is impossible at this moment—but I can wait eighty years. That ‘someone’ should be born by then.”

Koda paused.

“When your population multiplies I will return. By then there should be plenty Coopers. Surely they will rival your intellect, and hopefully make better company.” The light dimmed as the star made distance from me.

Gobsmacked, I prattled on. “That’s all? That’s all? You’re going? What about me? I’m interesting, I make good enough company. We had fun those first weeks didn’t we?” I sounded like a child being pulled from the playground.

Koda stopped in place. “Yes, Cooper. You have the most amazing mind I have ever encountered. Of all living and dead, yours is brightest and hastiest.”

Koda paused.

“Regretfully, you are only a brilliant flash in the pan.”

A sympathetic remark, heavy with finality.

Foolish, powerless, shame roared inside me—and I snapped at Koda.

It was only the vile ravings of a man so rife with frustration he couldn’t possibly be sane.

Nothing worth the breath was said.

Koda moved, and I fired up my ship’s engines to give chase. I didn’t know what for.

Though my engines could keep up, my eyes couldn’t.

Every beautiful star was gone in a blink. Darkness subsumed me, and I thrust into nowhere at full speed.

Possibly I believed I could pick the right direction and catch up? Truthfully I wasn’t thinking at all. I did wonder if the journey had driven me mad. If I met someone so shakingly livid, I’d think them a lunatic.

With covered eyes I sat on the floor. Wherever I was going was unimportant.

Splendor slipped through my fingers. It felt like I spent my life searching for an answer that I forgot in an instant.

I fell into retrospection.

There was nothing I could’ve done differently. Misery was the only possible outcome, it must’ve been.

Blind and sucked into thought, time and the universe blew past until my ship dried of fuel and ground to a halt. Eventually leading a rescue ship to the automatic distress call.

I wasn’t concerned with the danger, but it miffed me that someone would think they had “saved” me.

I remembered my own precautions as I boarded the rescue ship.

I installed a built-in thruster to counter my ship’s momentum if it ran out of fuel.

I was the one who did that. Without me and my distress call there would be no rescue—I didn’t need this nobody to help me, I did that myself long ago!

My self-doubt was laughable.

Whoever owned the vessel was droning on about something.

It was paid little mind, only a weary glance when they gestured through a window.

Before me was an astonishing view.

Both hands clasped to my head as hysterics seized me.

Oh, how I laughed, and sobbed, and heaved.

Scorched into the hull was a circle! And in its center: “First place.”