The Village of the Sun

We’d travelled through the barren landscape for a forgotten number of days and weeks, following the subtle glow upon the horizon, letting it guide us. All our communication equipment was trashed. We were on Earth—we knew that much—so we’d reached our destination. But precisely where was a mystery. We’d been tasked with finding some sort of sign of civilization, although knew it wasn’t likely, the planet having long since been destroyed by years of pollution, wars, pandemics, and the other atrocities often following in humanity’s wake.

The air, filled with a flaky, black detritus, felt as if one had to swim through it at times. Our suits kept out anything harmful, but without any protection, no one was bound to make it far in that sort of atmosphere. We continued on foot—without choice—walking over hills and valleys absent of any growth; just hardpan, like Mars before it was terraformed. Our small, collapsible tents fit into our pockets, outfitted with biofilters. Since all the monitoring equipment had been damaged, we agreed it best to sleep in our suits.

I awoke late one night to a familiar beeping, alerting me it was time to empty my sac. It was unadvised, in any exploratory situation, to remove our suits for any reason, so we’d been outfitted with a fine catheter to our urethra and a tubular suction device attached to our anus to collect waste; when the sac was full, we received an alert. If it wasn’t flushed within a quarter of an hour, you ran that chance of having it burst, an unpleasant scenario to say the least.

I rose and left my tent. At times, we had no choice but to discharge ourselves while traveling in front of our companions. I still preferred to empty my sac in private whenever possible. Remnants of rubble and asphalt paved a straight line to the top of a small hill overlooking the valley below, deserted save for our meagre campsite. Once there, I popped the latch on my left arm and pressed the blinking red button on the control panel, then felt a brief whoosh and heard a faint swishing noise through the helmet of my spacesuit. Done, I began descending when a faint glow, emanating from beyond the valley, caught my attention. It was far off in the distance, perhaps hundreds of kilometers. I quickly woke the rest of the team, who followed me up the little hill and confirmed what I saw. There was indeed a faint glow somewhere off in the distance, a form of life or a remnant of civilization.

Daylight soon broke. The glow dissipated until it could no longer be seen at all, the sun’s haze filtering through the dark detritus overpowering all else. We decided from that point on we’d travel only at night, following the glow. Days passed, or nights rather, and as we grew closer, the glow intensified, until we judged it only several days away. At this point, even during the hazy afternoons, we could make out the faint white radiance upon the horizon. It gave us hope, although of what none could say. Once visible during daytime, we traveled continuously, following the glow, drawn to it. There was no need for stopping; our suits had been outfitted for any possible scenario and periodically pumped a burst of bio-stimulants, chemicals, and synthetic proteins into our bloodstream, eliminating the need for rest; such technology, of course, was designated strictly for high-risk scenarios, but there was an urgency we all felt, thus we pumped ourselves fuller and fuller of the thwack, as it was called, clattering across the hardpan at a much more rapid pace.

It was night when we finally reached its source.

We came upon a steep hill, which took several hours of stumbling to navigate—the rock and sand clipping beneath our boots—then mounted a ridge, staring down onto the glow that had been pulling us towards it all these days and nights. In the middle, what must have been a kilometer or so away, was a figure. The glow had blinded us at first, so we switched our visual filters to dark mode. The land looked like it had been blown apart—a blast zone—burn marks emanating from the corpse or whatever it was; rays reaching outwards to form a circular circumference around the being, like a bomb that had been dropped. I glanced at my compatriots, who seemed just as dumbfounded as I. There was nothing left to do but descend.

As soon as we stepped over the rim of the deep valley, or crater perhaps more accurately describes it, the glow ceased, forcing us again to switch visor filters. Eventually, we reached the being at its center; it sat before us, clutching a dark black orb in its lap. I walked up to it. My presence disturbed the air in such a manner that the being slowly crumbled, breaking apart and drifting up into the air to join the rest of the black detritus floating around us. I gazed at the orb it had held—all that remained—compelled to touch it; a screen flickered, came to life.

Orb Transmissions

[camera angles upon a skinny blond woman seated in the half-lotus position, badly sunburned, blisters and sores upon her skin; where she’s seated bears a resemblance to where we stand now—where we’ve found the orb—so we assume, although without complete certainty, she’s the owner of the desiccated body that disintegrated into the air moments earlier; she begins speaking]

Sun sana one we welcome you to this day, for those of you out there watching thank you for joining me on this journey origato welcome, palms of praise to you and health and wellness to yours. Now begins the chant in all languages to nourish the body and soul, palms upward, we begin: sol, sola, sul, sale, sole, sola, solea, soil, soliel, soley, solely, solelh, solel, solen, soli, sin, sinne, zin, zon, son, sonn, sunne, sulberi, sulis …

[it continues for hours, her chanting the word for sun in all languages; at a certain point, one of my comrades suggests I fast forward and I do so, for a long while, until she places her palms downward; around her, the sky is darkening into dusk; again she turns toward the camera, speaking.]

And now it’s time we rest our bodies, using the nourishment we’ve received from the rays on this day to regenerate our cells and heal our souls. Before logging off I’d like to share with you a bit more of my journey. I’ve been here for several weeks. At first, I was hounded by skeptics and non-believers. But after several weeks of observation, they grew fewer and fewer and one of the yogis—a true believer—suggested I might broadcast my journey for the rest of the world, for those who were interested to see.

[at this point, one of my comrades again suggests I fast forward and I do so until in the orb, there is only blackness; I play it for a few moments and although no image can be seen onscreen, a steady breathing is heard; after a time, the screen begins to lighten slightly and we see her silhouette, sitting in the same half-lotus position in which she must have slept, or meditated through the duration of the night; as the sun rises, the same scene from the day before plays out]

Sun sana two we welcome you to this day, for those of you watching thank you for joining with me on this journey; for those who’ve just tuned in, origato welcome, palms of praise and health and wellness to you and yours. Now begins the chant in all languages, nourishing body and soul, palms upward, we begin: sol, sola, sul, sale, sole, sola, solea, soil..

[how much of this is there, we all wonder; there’s a data port in the orb and one of us squats down and connects to it, analyzing the data it contains; there are several hundred hours of video; we’re baffled as to what to do at this point; one of my comrades suggests we bring the orb along and continue searching for signs of life; another argues that we’ve most certainly found signs of life, referring to the orb, and suggests we return to the site where we crashed to await retrieval; another argues retrieval won’t come because we’re not generating a general distress signal since all of our equipment was trashed; I suggest we continue reviewing the footage, for although somewhat vague and unintelligible, it remains nonetheless compelling; at this, we all shrug; it’s then decided that, for lack of anything else better to do, we continue to watch the recording, so we all huddle around it, seated uncomfortably in our space suits; before pressing play I fast forward the orb to a random moment in time and again we see the woman, this time, much thinner, almost skeletal; the sun is high in the sky]

Those of you out there on your own journey, following mine, might be wondering about the quality of the body at this point; yesterday, while I was in quiet meditation regenerating from the day’s rays, my skin, numb though it is now, began to test me; the sores and blisters that have developed on my face began to burst, dripping moisture down my cheeks and across my lips—so tempted I was at one point to stick out my tongue and catch the fluid; just to taste it once, to remember water, although surely it wouldn’t have tasted much like the memory of water; you see, I was being tested; such a small thing, to flick out my tongue and catch what fell, but this would have been a betrayal...

[we watched and listened to the orb transmissions, compelled by a strange urge; perhaps to see her journey ended, although surely it could have only ended in death; but we sat with her, captivated, watching the sun rise and set; at some point in time I looked up and realized all our sacs had burst]

Sun sana thirty two, welcome to this day, for those of you watching thank you origato much praise; I apologize for the softness of my voice; for those of you joining with me on this journey, I mean for those who’ve just tuned in, welcome, palms of praise and health and wellness to you and yours. Now begins the chant in all languages, nourishing body and soul, palms upward, we begin: sol, sola, sul, sale, sole, sola, solea, soil, solea, soil, soliel, soley, solely, solelh, solel, solen, soli, sin, sinne, zin, zon, son, sonn, sunne, sulberi, sulis. suli, sun, sun sana forty three, origato welcome to the thinness of the air; thank you to all watching and circled around the orb, namaste; I apologize for the swiftness of my voice but time is in the air; thank you all to those just tuning in fresh palms of praise beneath your feet to nourish body and soil, sol, sol, soleil, soleil, sol, soil, soil, sol, son, son, son, son, sun, sun, sun, zon, zon, zon, zed, zen, son, sonne, sulberi, sulberi, sulis, sulbaris...

[at this point, the picture goes to static; in the dim light from the orb, I see us all, huddled around naked, spacesuits cast aside; the black flakes in the air begin collecting all around us like moths, drawn to the light of the orb’s fractured glow; I watch as they collect upon our skin like snowfall, or bits of ash; transmitting again now, we watch the orb and begin the chant in all languages to nourish body and soil; sol, sola, sul, sale, sole, sola, solea, soil, soliel, soley, solely, solelh, solel, solen, soli, sin, sinne, zin, zon, son, sonn, sunne, sulberi, sulis; as we chant, the detritus surrounds us in a gyric whorl, continuing to collect upon our skin; at one point, I look down at my arms soil, soil, sol, son, son, son, son, sun reflecting the low light in a dull sheen like the scales of a reptile sonne, sulberi, sulberi, sulis soil, sol, son lost in the intensity of its stillness, of everything happening around us; the orb grows dark and there’s a piercing scream from one of our comrades; I’m unable to move, the black detritus collected upon our skin now hardened into a crust and the air is clear, or we know it’s clear although we’re not sure that it’s clear but we can feel that feeling and before us the orb begins to glow, the same dull glow but getting brighter at an imperceptible rate because we’re all still lost in that feeling, of the air and of the intensity of it all, still cemented there unmoving, but feeling so overwhelmed, like time passes or it doesn’t pass, or has the feeling of being disconnected, then the orb rises higher; there’s the feeling of time only in the sense we can determine the orb’s rising, and now it’s glowing brighter and the feeling that the air has cleared soon blossoms into the hardpan of the desert, and we leave our suits behind us, following the orb with our eyes and feeling it glowing, getting brighter and growing in blinding intensity until there’s a vibration that begins at the center of the earth, we feel it go through us, out to somewhere else, and it doesn’t stop, it continues, growing in intensity until the shells on our exterior begin to vibrate in sync with it, with the vibration all around us; our black shells continue vibrating as we float up into the air, then slowly, begin to crack like hardened clay, falling to pieces, collecting upon the ground below; we’re rising, like the orb, completely lost in the intensity of it all then there’s a sort of larger vibration, music fluttering in the air, weaving through the motion, through everything; we can’t even look at the orb because it’s so bright but we know it’s moving, turning around itself in time to the rhythmic hum, the strange sort of noise echoing all around us; we’re back on our feet now, shielding our eyes from the blinding rays, and the tension breaks for a moment, surges into the words of a song and we’re standing there, confused, listening to the melody playing all around us, through our bodies; it’s so intense, so impossible; the words of the song—the music—sounding like something we once knew, ages ago, and the words were there with us, so we sang along, chanting: Goin’ back home / To the Village of the Sun / Out in back of Palmdale / Where the turkey farmers run, I done / Made up my mind / And I know I’m gonna go to Sun / Village, good God I hope the / Wind don’t blow.

One of my comrades suddenly turns to me, shouting over the din like we’re at a rock concert, “So we’re in Palmdale then?”