Anthea's Hope--chapter two

 2

 

     Elon Musk, ever the visionary with a penchant for detours, had one condition before they plunged into the cosmic unknown. A stopover on the Moon. 

     He wanted to see the Monolith. An enigmatic, jet-black enigma which he believed might hold secrets to mankind’s place in the universe. Perhaps even clues that might aid Newton’s mission. 

     Newton, though impatient, acquiesced. He’d learned Musk’s whims often masked a deeper curiosity worth indulging.

     They touched down on the lunar surface near the Tycho crater. The desolate gray expanse stretching out beneath a star-studded void. Musk, clad in a custom SpaceX suit, bounded out first. His voice crackling over the comms with childlike excitement. 

     “There it is, Thomas! The Monolith! The mysterious black slab in the flesh. Or, well, in the whatever the hell it’s made of.” 

     Newton followed. His movements slower. His alien physiology less suited to the Moon’s low gravity. His large, reflective eyes scanned the horizon. Walking toward the object Musk was so eager to visit.

     The Monolith stood exactly as described. Ten feet tall. Perfectly smooth. Impossibly black. Absorbing all light like a tear in reality. It rested in a shallow excavation site. Surrounded by the faint tracks of long-abandoned lunar rovers. Evidence that humanity had once stumbled upon it and then, baffled, left it alone. 

     Musk approached. His gloved hand hovering inches from its surface. 

     “What do you think it does, Thomas? Signals to the stars? Rewires your brain? Tells your fortune for two bits?”

     Newton tilted his head. His voice soft and melodic through the comms. 

     “It’s old, Mr. Musk. Older than my people. Perhaps older than the stars we see. On Anthea, we had legends of such things. Sentinels left by creators we never met. If it speaks, it speaks in a language we’ve long forgotten.”

     Musk grinned beneath his visor. 

     “Well, let’s say hello.” 

     He tapped the Monolith lightly with his fist. Half-expecting a cosmic chime or a burst of light. 

     “Knock, knock,” he said.

     Nothing happened.

     At least, not visibly. 

     Newton, however, flinched. His sensitive perception catching a faint hum. A vibration too subtle for human senses. 

     “It’s awake,” he murmured, stepping back. 

     “What’s it doing?” Musk asked.

     “Waiting.”

     Musk circled the slab. Inspecting it like a mechanic sizing up a broken engine. He pulled a small device from his suit. A prototype sensor he’d designed for detecting extraterrestrial signals. He pressed it against the Monolith’s edge. The readings spiked erratically. Then flatlined. 

     “How about that?” he chuckled. “Either it’s fried my tech, or it’s telling me to buzz off. What’s your take, Thomas? You’re the alien expert here.”

     Newton stared at the Monolith. His mind racing with fragmented memories of Anthean lore. 

     “It’s a marker. A test, maybe. My people believed such objects judged those who found them. Whether they were ready to ascend or doomed to wither. I wonder if it sees my world’s failure… or your world’s potential.”

     Musk paused. The weight of Newton’s words sinking in. 

     “Well, if it’s a judge, we’ve got lousy timing. We’re not here to be graded, we’re here to save your planet, so let’s go. Anthea’s waiting.” 

     He clapped Newton on the shoulder. A gesture that nearly sent the lighter alien stumbling in the low gravity.

      As they returned to their starship, Newton cast one last glance at the Monolith. For a moment, he thought he saw its surface ripple. Like ink swirling in water, but he said nothing. Musk, meanwhile, was already plotting several moves into the future. Considering the possibility of someday drilling lunar ice caps for water to bring to Anthea. 

     The detour had yielded no grand revelations. No cosmic shortcuts. Just a silent, inscrutable relic. Yet it gave them a renewed sense of urgency.

     The starship’s engines flared. Kicking up lunar dust as it lifted off. Leaving the Monolith behind. For Musk, it was a thrilling pit stop in a grand adventure. For Newton, it was a haunting reminder of how much was at stake. 

     Ahead lay Anthea. A dying world hanging on by a thread.