George was in a small landing craft which was soaring gently through space.  He had left the Glosh ship just moments before.  It lay poised behind him, waiting expectantly for his return.  The landing craft, he had been told, was pre-programmed to take him to the surface.  A bubble helmet with oxygen was sitting on the seat next to him.  He was to use it when he went out of the landing craft to get the stones, so that he could breathe.  There was no atmosphere or oxygen on Uth.

Once he re-entered the ship after getting the stones, it was programmed to close the door behind him, refill the space with oxygen so he could remove the bubble helmet, and then take him back up to the Glosh.

The immensity of the planet Uth lay before him, filling his vision, his mind, and his whole being.  This was truly no ordinary planet.  It seemed to fill every one of his senses.  Coming here was such a total experience, it felt like every cell in his body was on high alert.

The music was indescribable.  It seemed to fill George’s mind and soul.  The melody was so haunting, so joyous, so exhilarating and so pure that George knew he would never be able to describe it to anyone, or even remember it after he was gone, at least not in a way to do it justice.

His ship was slowly descending toward the surface.  As before, George looked at the planet in total awe.  It was massive—hundreds of times larger than the earth.  It was made up of trillions upon trillions of clear, pure stones, and the surface was smooth as glass.  The entire planet was perfectly clear, and he could see straight through it to the other side without the slightest distortion. 

The singing seemed to grasp his heart, and gently sway him back and forth.  The feeling that came with it was indescribable.  It was happiness and joy and utter, total peace—and yet it was more.  George had never thought there could be something more than joy before.  But here he could feel it.

The music seemed to be talking to him.  It whispered his name, and spoke to his heart.  It remembered him, and knew who he was.  Indeed, he felt like his mind was an open book, and there was no thought he had ever had that it didn’t know.

With a gentle bump, his ship landed.  The surface of the planet shimmered and glowed, beckoning to him, reaching out to him, enfolding him in its arms.  George quickly put on the oxygen helmet, and opened the hatch.  Before when he had come, he had not needed an oxygen helmet.  Although as a matter of logic he knew there was no atmosphere on this planet, and that he would die without a helmet, somehow he knew that it wasn’t really needed here, even now.  There seemed to be almost a ripple of laughter of a billion small stones at his wearing it. 

George suddenly took it off, and tossed it back into the space pod on the seat.  He truly didn’t need it.

Stepping onto the clear surface of Uth sent a quiver up George’s spine.  Every one of his muscles suddenly felt so totally relaxed that if he had been anywhere else he would have collapsed.  He closed his eyes—and instantly saw more than when they were open.  He now could see the music that before he had only heard and felt.  It soared up and around him in waves of delighted color. 

And then, a single small voice came into his mind.  “Why have you come?”

In spite of the joy all around him, a cloud seemed to pass over George’s heart.  In shame he resisted answering, yet the thoughts in his mind seemed to form wings, and fly away to the surface in answer.  “To take away two small stones,” his thoughts said.

While he had expected rebuke at his audacity, what came instead was a gentle ripple of laughter.  And then another question.  “Do you really think you could freely take anything from here?”

Instantly, George knew it was true.  The thought of actually trying to reach down and pick up two stones and leave with them was utterly ludicrous.  The smallest pebble on this planet had more power than his entire world.  And with a shock, George realized that for him to even be standing here at all--for his ship to have been allowed to land, and for the larger Glosh ship to approach so close--was by the condescension of the beings that comprised this world.  It was a gift they were freely giving him.

And then, another question formed itself in the music that swayed and filled the atmosphere of this indescribable world.  A question that startled George, and that was not directed to him at all. 

“Does anyone wish to go with George?” it asked simply.  The question seemed to hang in the air, on fluttering wings of color.  And then it soared gently up and away and out of sight.  A moment of silence followed.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“I will go,” said a sudden small voice, at George’s feet.  Opening his eyes, George looked down at the surface—and straight through the millions of miles to the other side.  Yet, in spite of the limitless expanse of his vision, he could see clearly which stone had spoken.  It lay expectant and waiting at his feet.

“So will I,” sang another voice, also at his feet.  And almost immediately, George felt himself leaning down, reaching for them. 

A wave of guilt overcame him.  He shouldn’t be doing this!  These creatures were alive, and pure and innocent!  How could he dare to take them away from this place of beauty, and subject them to the cruelty and hardship of what lay outside their world?

George tried to pull back his hand, but was unable to do so.  It kept reaching, as if it had a mind of its own.  And then the two stones leaped gently into the air, and landed softly in his open palm.

A tingling sensation shot from his hand throughout his entire body.  It felt as if fire and ice were coursing through his veins, as if he were breathing frozen lava, as if he were being pierced with burning icicles.

A voice formed itself again in the air around him.  Once again, it was not directed to George at all.  “You’re sure you want to go?  You know what this means, and the price you may have to pay?”

George suddenly felt like weeping.  With all his might, he tried to drop the stones back to the surface, to spare them the blackness of having to answer.

Yet he couldn’t move.  His fingers still clenched the stones tightly, unable to release them, as if cemented in place. 

“We know,” came the two voices of the stones, with a sense of sadness, hope and expectancy.

“Then go,” said the first voice with gentle laughter, as George was suddenly carried up on a breeze of music and deposited back in his ship.

The hatch clicked shut, and the engines of the pod began to whine.

“No!” cried George’s mind, since his mouth was still frozen shut.  “I can’t take them!  Last time I came, it was with one like them, who had left.  He was gone for eternities, experiencing pain and sorrow.  I won’t put them through the same pain!  I won’t!”

Laughter shook itself gently through George’s ears, and all the way down into his heart. 

“Will you take away their choice, then?” it asked simply.  “Indeed, can you take away their choice?”

And instantly, George knew it was true.  He could no more command or force the two stones to not come with him than he could command the planet Uth to be split asunder.  It was their choice to go, not his.

“No, please!” George found his mind saying again.  Begging.  “Don’t let them go.  It’s not right.  I’m not pure.  My motives aren’t pure.  I came to get them, to heal my father.  After that, the Glosh want them to fight the Grak.  They’ll be used and exploited.  Please make them stay!  Please stop me!”

The pod was slowly lifting into the air, in the midst of gentle laughter.  “We know all that, George,” the voice all around him sang once more. “And so do they.  But their choice to experience all that will come has been made, and their destiny is set.  And so is yours.  There will be sadness.  There will be choices.  And in the end, depending on what future choices will be made, perhaps there will be joy, and a time of returning.”

George was crying now.  Not so much crying as weeping, tears streaming down his face.  “NO!” he cried again.  “Take my life, instead!  Don’t let them suffer.  PLEASE STOP ME!”

“Farewell,” came a gentle voice in response.  And then the voice seemed to pierce to the very center and the very heart of George’s soul.  It spoke with firmness and urgency.  “George, remember the warnings of the Ziphon.  You must learn to feel.  Danger awaits.  A new sacrifice will soon need to be made.  But in the end, all can be right.  Your greatest danger is you.  Above all else, do not condemn.”

“What do you mean?” wept George in anguish.  “Do not condemn what?”

“Not what, who,” answered the voice.  And even as it spoke, George could sense that his mind was beginning to lose consciousness.  He was drifting away, and would soon be asleep. 

As if from a great distance, a tiny voice carried itself into his mind on a lilting melody, landing as softly as a butterfly.

“Do not condemn … yourself …”

And then there was blackness, and all was still.