home

search

Chapter Thirty Four: The Robinsons Guide to Solitude

  Stirring from the abyss of fragmented sleep, Gan found himself engulfed in a perplexing daze. The harsh reality of a cold, foreign environment had replaced the comforting confines of his familiar sleep chamber. Strapped to a hard bench in an unknown vessel, reality seemed distorted, as if shrouded in an unforgiving fog of confusion.

  In an instinctual reflex, he called out for Pelve, the artificial companion he often relied on to clear his mind’s clouds. Yet, the echo of solitude that answered him served as a harsh reminder of the grim situation.

  Memory, as relentless as the tides, crashed against his consciousness. Each recollection bore the weight of bitter truth, unveiling his stark reality piece by piece. His trusty companion, Pelve, was absent; Gan’s place of refuge was reduced to a lonely escape pod adrift in the unfathomable expanse of space.

  With a heavy sigh that betrayed his mounting resignation, Gan unfastened the restraints confining him to the bench. The strange sensation of weightlessness engulfed him as he drifted, untethered, in the pod’s microgravity environment. Meanwhile, a hunger as insistent as the pulsating beat of his heart clawed at his stomach.

  The escape pod, while lacking the convenience and comfort of a fully equipped Galley, boasted a stocked cache of pre-packaged rations. These could sustain a full crew of twelve people for a span of six days, a contingency built for worst-case scenarios. Gan found his mind immediately breaking down the numbers, the mental arithmetic coming as second nature because of his ingrained training and survival instincts.

  If he rationed, limiting himself to a measured, sparse diet of just two meals per day, these supplies might stretch to sustain him for seventy-two days. The magnitude of that figure hit him with startling clarity, causing a ripple of unease to flutter through his gut.

  Being isolated within the confines of the tiny escape pod, cut off from the comforts and resources of the Valtorian, seemed a daunting prospect, but one he was preparing himself to face. The idea of surviving on a minimal diet for over two months was not an appealing one, yet he understood the grim reality of his predicament. It was a stark reminder of how abruptly his circumstances had changed, morphing from the security of his ship to the uncertain future within the escape pod. All he could do now was hold on to the flicker of hope, the fervent wish that he wouldn’t be pushed to the brink of such a desperate, stringent regimen.

  As Gan’s eyes roamed over the organized array of prepackaged meals laid out before him, he scrutinized each one attempting to discern from their mundane labels which might prove somewhat palatable. After a moment’s deliberation, he selected a packet that seemed to offer the most promise, its label hinting at a hearty stew of sorts.

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  He slid the chosen packet into the pod’s compact re-hydrogenator, a marvel of efficiency and technological ingenuity. This tiny piece of machinery was designed to re-infuse the dehydrated contents of the meal packet with water, restoring it to something that could pass as edible, even appetizing under certain dire circumstances.

  As soon as he engaged the machine, it hummed, an audible testimony to the intricate processes unfolding within its shell. The re-hydrogenator was a complex symphony of micro-mechanisms, all working in perfect harmony to rejuvenate the shriveled foodstuff, transforming it into a hot and enjoyable meal.

  As the minutes ticked by, Gan found himself immersed in the soothing monotony of the re-hydrogenator’s operation, the drone almost hypnotic in the otherwise silent confines of the escape pod. However, this tranquil reverie was shattered by an unexpected chirping sound that echoed through the cramped space.

  The onboard computer, bearing the same synthesized timbre as the re-hydrogenator, had made its presence known. It delivered a concise update, informing Gan of the detected signals. Its digital tone, devoid of any emotional inflection, seemed almost eerie against the backdrop of his solitary predicament.

  His heart stirred in his chest, fluttering with hope like a bird testing its wings. Was it Elo, or perhaps someone from his race? But as the computer translated the incoming signals, it became apparent that they were just echoes of the same bizarre video communications that he had been receiving. His heart sank like a stone, plummeting from the heights of hope to the depths of disappointment.

  Despite his frustration, Gan found himself transfixed by the captured videos as he consumed his meal. The sustenance lacked any semblance of taste, each bite a mechanical necessity rather than a source of enjoyment. The meal was no feast. It was merely a tool to fuel his survival. As the nutrients coursed through his veins, an invigorating sensation spread across his body, reigniting his mental faculties, and sharpening his focus on the task at hand.

  Eyes darting across the communication logs displayed on the pod’s console, Gan searched for a lifeline. He yearned for a message from his mentor, Elo, or perhaps a fellow Ellurian, his brethren in space. Yet, the console was a barren wasteland, devoid of any connection to his past life. An unsettling notion curled around his mind like tendrils of smoke, whispering questions he dreaded to consider. Was he marooned in this vast emptiness? Was he a forgotten speck lost in the cosmos, his existence reduced to a mere whisper in the grand choir of the universe?

  Desperate to shield his mind from the overwhelming loneliness threatening to consume him, Gan immersed himself in the videos. He gravitated towards the show featuring the Robinsons, noting tasks that kept them occupied in their confinement. His situation was dire, a harsh reality mirrored in the cold metal walls of his tiny refuge, but he recognized the need to maintain his sanity, to stay anchored in the face of disheartening solitude.

  The onboard computer offered a glimmer of hope as calculated coordinates, estimating the nearest habitable planet to be three to four days away. Its calculation surmised the planet as the likely source of the unusual signals he had been receiving. In this piece of information, Gan found a beacon, a tangible goal to set his sights on amidst the unending expanse of stars and silence. He clung to the hope that this planet, this unknown entity in the unknown universe, held answers to his mounting questions, and perhaps even a pathway leading him back to the familiarity of home.

  alone now. Drifting in an escape pod, rationing food, and watching old videos just to keep himself sane. But amidst the silence, a signal emerges—a habitable planet, just days away.

  Is someone (or something) waiting for him there? And will he actually find help, or is this planet just another unknown danger lurking in the void? Drop your theories below! ??

  favorite, rate, or leave a review—it helps more than you know! ?? Thanks for reading, and see you in the next chapter!

Recommended Popular Novels