Shining Sun

[Shroom Man 777]

Shining Sun
by Ford Prefect and Shroom Man 777


Between the light of two distant stars, I am the only one, only thing. I had been traveling before, but now I simply lay in the cusp of the galaxy's spin. Really, where did I have to go? I know nothing of space or the life out here except for what stories Patrick had told me. He was the one who had traveled the cosmos. Not I.

Laying - am I laying? I don't suppose it matters - watching the stars, I am reminded of doing something similar, back when I was young. With my younger brother, we went out in the late evening, the dog yapping at our heels. We lay upon the hill side, just up from the house, and watch the stars.

We wanted to see the rocket, the ones the Brits had made. Dad told us that if we went out now, we'd see it. So we lay in silence, not daring to speak. I had my hand on the dog's head, and she was squirming. Then - there it was! A plume of white-blue cutting over head. It cut the world in half and streaked out of sight in seconds. Together, my brother and I sat up and watched its tail.

That was the day, night I suppose, I knew I wanted to be there. Be here. Go to the moon, go to Mars like the boys from Britain, go to whole new stars and meet new life.

I'll always remember my fifteenth birthday. It was the day I should have died.

So I grew interested in space. So much so, that when my fifteenth birthday rolled around, Pops announced that we were going to Cape Canaveral. I was so happy. We loaded the family up - me, my brother, ma, with Pops in the drivers seat. Then we hit the road, out on the highway.

Pat said that a lot of metahumans were born from accidents, sometimes terrible ones. He came from a plane crash, Anthony Andrews came out of an explosion. Even that Russian hero, Comrade Red the papers called him before he faded into obscurity, he was said to have been empowered by an exploding nuke.

I had a terrible accident. So did my family and a whole bunch of other people too. A couple of stupid hick farmboys - heh, I was once a farmboy too - with superpowers getting into a fight on the highway. I don't quite remember what happened exactly. But I remember waking up with a sheet of metal embedded in my chest.

My brother was dead. I realized after I had pulled the cars hood out of me. He'd caught it too. I think the shock killed him. Our parent weren't killed by shock. Their heads were sitting my feet.

I could see the dumucks who had done it, and I'd never felt angrier. It was a sunny day, and I didn't even notice that the sucking hole that should have been in my chest was gone.

I tore my way out of crumpled wreckage. Metal bent like cardboard under my hand. The farmboys ran when they saw me coming. I wanted to chase them down, make them pay. Heck, I was about to do just that. Then I heard the people crying. You ever been in a big accident before? You might know what I'm talking about. There was a busload of kids, like some group going on an outing to the Space Centre.

There were other cars too. A lot of people. A lot of people needing help that I could provide. So I provided, I peeled open that bus, carried the kids out. I got free everyone I could. Those people I couldn't, I stayed with.

I was fifteen years old. I look back now and think 'how did I do it?'. Later, after Pat had come and done his thing like he always did, he tried to explain.

Everyone knew Archwind. The tireless defender and savior. He's probably the greatest man who's ever lived, I'll admit that right now. His fight is tireless. He goes everywhere, does everything he can. Word is that every day he'd circle the globe doing his bit, no matter how big, or more importantly how small the task.

When he showed up, I could see it. He had to be beating on himself because he could only pick up the pieces. His mouth was a grim line, and his face was lined. He was only in his early thirties back then, but he looked almost ancient. Like he was rough hewn from stone. He set me aside and finished the job I had started. Then, when he was done, he attended to me.

"You did a good thing." he said in that warm baritone. "You helped these people out. You just did it. And I know why." I didn't answer, and he put his hand on my shoulder. "Because you don't want to think about your family. People numb themselves in different ways. Sometimes through violence, sometimes through drink. I do it by helping people."

I cried then. I knew my brother would have called me a wimp, and that made me cry harder. Then Pat, the Awesome Archwind himself, put his arm around my shoulders.

From there, I was taken into the care of the government, under the urging of a Senator named Blackwell. They provided for me, protected me from the media hordes that sprung up around me. I was glad for that. Every reporter I met seemed like a hound latched onto a kill.

I focused on my dream. I was going to live it, for my parents, for my brother. For Bill, for Lucy, for Tom. But I was going to do it for myself as well. I would live my dream because I wanted to; I could honour them best like that.

Space is so quiet. It's so peaceful. Back home there was always screaming and fighting and endless bullshit. But home wasn't lonely. There were people on earth. Still are, unless someone finally managed to blow the place up. There are people; there were friends.