MICROCOSM

MICROCOSM

By Peter Woodgate

Barry studied the moon. It was in the third quarter, partially lit by the sun, it’s craters were highlighted magnificently by the shadows that swept across its surface.

    Barrie’s mind began to wander. He thought about the planet he lived on, the moon, the star that gave life to it all and indeed, out beyond the Solar System to the vastness of space. “How strange,” he thought, “everything was designed around circles or circles within a circle.”

How vast was The Universe? And was there an end to it? How small was the tiniest particle and could we know there was not something even smaller? He thought back to when the tiny atom was assumed to be the smallest particle and, when this was subsequently split, the chaos it caused. Barry then thought about subatomic particles, the nucleus and the electrons and how that made up a tiny solar system of its own then, deciding it was becoming incomprehensible.  He moved the telescope 70 degrees to the left to study some stars in the Milky Way.

    Browsing through this sector, Barry paused as the star Betelgeuse came into view. “That’s odd,” he thought, as he drew back from the eyepiece and rubbed his eye, “must be something on the lenses. He carried out an auto-clean of the lenses that formed part of the giant mirror telescope and took another look through the eyepiece. It was still there, a big red glow just to the left of Betelgeuse.

    Barry turned to his wife Angela who was busy on the spectrometer. “Come and have a look at this Darling,” he shouted excitedly, “there is something really strange here.”

Angela sighed, stopped what she was doing and sidled over to where Barry was, once again, peering through the giant scope.

“I hope this is not one of your ploys to get me over for a cuddle,” Angela laughed as she stroked the back of Barry’s neck, “after all,” she continued playfully, “you are a married man.”

    Angela and Barry were both astrophysicists and, since marrying two years previously had decided, literally, to spend the rest of their lives together. It was for this reason they had volunteered to work together at the isolated observatory on the summit of Mount McKinley.

The work was often tedious and boring but they managed to spice things up a bit by pretending they were illicit lovers.

    “No Darling,” Barry remarked, “I’m serious, have a look at this.” He stepped aside to allow Angela to look through the eyepiece.

“What am I looking for exactly?” queried Angela.

“Look to the left of Betelgeuse,” replied Barry, “what do you see?”

“Looks like a red smudge,” Angela hesitated, “perhaps there is something on the lens.

“No there isn’t Ange, I’ve had them auto-cleaned, and that red mist or whatever is definitely cosmic. 

Angela stepped back from the eyepiece, “how long has it been there? The Astronomical Federation will have to be informed.”

“I carried out a full survey on this quadrant three days ago,” Barry replied, “it certainly wasn’t visible then. I will send a report to them straight away.

    Barry forwarded all the data and awaited the reply. It didn’t take long and he read it to Angela. “It seems they will be making an independent investigation but want us to continue monitoring the situation.”

“What do you think?” Angela asked anxiously as she gave Barry a hug, “is it anything serious?”

“I don’t know,” Barry spoke softly, “but we will need to monitor this continually.” Angela sighed disappointedly as she made her way to the kitchen to fetch refreshments. She hated sleeping alone and was not looking forward to the sessions that lay before them. Angela returned shortly after with a meal courtesy of the auto chef and sat down opposite Barry.

“It’s going to be awfully lonely,” she looked at Barry with sadness in her eyes; Barry shook his head, “sorry darling there’s not much else we can do, hopefully, it won’t be for long.”

    The next few days were rather traumatic as they slept and observed in eight-hour shifts sharing only the occasional meal together. Earth’s Astronomical Federation had sent a couple of messages through saying that they believed it to be a distant Supernova which would dissipate in time. Barry, however, was not convinced. Not only was it spreading in all directions, it appeared to be heating up the atmosphere at an alarming rate. The external thermometer had shown a rise in temperature of two degrees in three days. He knew that this could not be normal as at this time of the year it should be decreasing.

    It was at their next meal together that Barry looked at Angela and whispered, “you do know that I will always love you Darling, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” replied Angela, “what’s brought this on?” she sighed as she gave Barry a big hug. “I think we are going to face Armageddon darling, that red mist or whatever will swallow us up. It’s getting larger and hotter by the day.” Angela did not say anything; she just looked at Barry with a tear in her eye.

    It was another three days before the Federation of Astronomical Affairs acknowledged that a problem existed. Unfortunately, it was now far too late for any evacuation from Earth.

The red cloud had, by now, swallowed up Betelgeuse and the rest of the stars in that quadrant and calculations had revealed their own Solar System would be obliterated within a week.

They would, of course, die of oxygen starvation before being vaporized.

    Barry and Angela lay on their bed naked, their arms around each other. Their mouths were open but no breathing was heard, their eyes wide and staring saw nothing.

Their faces were the last thing each had seen before darkness overcame them and were now oblivious to the fiery blast that swept their planet and everything on it into eternity.

11

God looked at the charred remains of the galaxy he had just destroyed and shook his head.

“I had great expectations for this creation,” his voice thundered with minatory authority.

“Why oh why had mankind defied and ignored what I had placed in front of them?”

“Why had they fragmented my laws with individual autonomy and taken my name in vain?”

“They gave me no choice; I had to end it before they destroyed themselves.”

God reached out and discarded the charred remnants of the Milky Way leaving a miasmatic vapour in its place. Then, turning his attention to the Horsehead nebula, where he commenced his next creation.

“It should only take a few billion years,” he muttered to his son who was seated by his side, “so prepare yourself.”

God’s son did not reply but took note of the destination of his next assignment, thinking,

“I hope my father's next creation is not made in his own image.”

Copyright Peter Woodgate