The planet of two Suns

By Erni-Szakács Szilárd

I tossed the room key card to the receptionist. He caught it swiftly.  „I hope you slept well,” he told me without any intention. I shot him a glare. After the morning swim, a dull ache still wandered through my bones, like an echo of the night spent in a bed harder than stone. Compared to this, a night on bare ground would have been the height of comfort. Unfortunately, such extravagance was forbidden on Perilepum, as was overnighting on board ships in transit.

– For tonight, please prepare a comfortable bed for me, I slammed the door before going out.

I had been advised to avoid the planet of the two suns, as solitary wanderers usually did, but it was precisely this that pushed me towards this mysterious world. I didn’t expect to complete the circuit of the Earth colonies at the galaxy’s borders in a single lifetime, but an extra visit wouldn’t be a waste. There were all sorts of tales about Perilepum, but no one had specifically and practically warned me to bring a sleeping bag. Fortunately, I had a very good sleeping place on the ship, so the discomfort wouldn’t last long. Nothing erases the ridiculous impression of a night spent on Perilepum better than a day spent on the same planet. I am solitary both by nature and taste as well as by habit, like any wanderer, but everything on Perilepum seemed to have no other purpose than to soothe, to heal and to console. After a few minutes of walking under the slightly violet sky, under the gentle light of the daytime sun, I began to breathe more freely and relaxed. The city was a masterful conglomerate of curved lines. No boulevard was perfectly straight, the buildings themselves avoided cubism, seamlessly merging into one another in a game of lines and volumes perfectly harmonious, yet at the same time devoid of rigidity and ostentation. Where the vastness of the space approached the grandiose, vegetation intervened, taming the metropolitan air with solutions as simple as possible.
Since no one was in a hurry, no face was grumpy, no one intruded on your soul, the extremes that marked the behavior of the Earthlings were avoided from the very beginning. No tense expressions, nothing harsh, proud in the gazes of the Perilepumians, or extravagant in their attire, designed not to offend the eye and to fit naturally into the decor. Surprisingly, these non-sensations, instead of passing me by, filled me with delight. 

When I arrived at the ship’s inspection dock, I was reassembled, even slightly euphoric. Here, the work was carried out efficiently, but without anyone, be it a person or a machine, panting, vibrating, or agitating more than strictly necessary. The progress of the operations closely followed the preliminary schedule, so I could only declare myself satisfied. I returned towards the city, wearing on my face that unique combination of wrinkles that I so rarely had the chance to display in my long moments of solitude, which is called a smile. Suddenly, a little girl, a teenager, perhaps a young woman, stopped in front of me. The experience of being a wanderer had taught me that in new worlds, nothing is harder to figure out than age. She stopped and looked straight in my eyes. She had a swan-like neck and reddish hair.

– Do you like it? she said instead of any introduction.

– How do you know? I asked her in the same familiar style.

– You are a wanderer, aren’t you? A perpetual explorer. Isolated, serious, and a bit self-sufficient, right?

What could I have replied? Such a lively person cannot be a solitary wanderer, that a sociable young person would not be able to navigate for decades to transmit year after year to the forever abandoned Earth a few data about a corner of the galaxy? That I was precisely shaped for such a career?
She resumed alone:

– No answer is needed. A smile is enough for me, all that a solitary person holds dear. We continued the morning discussion together. The girl didn’t want to reveal her name.
– What would be the point? Why should I reveal my name? Tomorrow you leave and my name will perish with you. Call me whatever you want. My name will belong to you. You will only have to forget it. It was a fairytale day. Telogene – that’s how I called her, without knowing why – guided me through the boulevards with ornamental fountains, accompanied me in the meticulously designed parks, revealing to me the hidden meanings in lines and shapes. Then we had a delicious lunch and saw a pleasant show in an intimate and welcoming hall. Nothing glaring, nothing tiring in the performance. A few inspired splashes of color, likable actors, unsophisticated songs, lyrical dances, two or three jokes devoid of triviality, a pleasant ending. I left the hall feeling relaxed, at peace with the world, as if silently agreeing with the strangers around me, who, I sensed, were experiencing the same feeling.

Telogene left me as abruptly as she had approached me. This time it seemed normal to me. After a moment, I forgot her. She disappeared from my memory just like some in the air. Back at the hotel, I gave a friendly nod to the receptionist with whom I had been so rude that morning. I only came to my senses when I sat on the edge of the bed. The euphoria washed off me like the droplets of a shower. Incredible, I told myself. Some people who live so beautifully, who savor harmony and calm in order not to discover the delight of comfort! It seemed beyond imagination. Now I could barely feel the fatigue I had accumulated from walking all day. Of course, the daily training on board the ship proved effective; otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to endure. But now I needed rest. Cursing the Perilepumic paradoxes, I went to the toilet and prepared to lie down on the torture bed.
The hotelier had nonetheless recorded my dissatisfaction, which is why I was surprised by some amendments. Not without satisfaction, I prepared for sleep, ruminating on the day’s impressions in my mind. 

I woke up shortly after, seized by an inexplicable restlessness. Since, despite all the supportive measures, the bed hadn’t truly become comfortable, I took a few steps around the room. A dull, oppressive murmur hung in the air. What’s happening? I wondered and opened the window. A wave of noise hit my cheeks before the panels. How should I describe this noise? It was a din, a cacophony of shrill, unruly voices uttering incomprehensible words. The city was lit, of course, but in such an unexpected manner that for a moment I doubted it was the same place. Dazzling light sources, placed arbitrarily, were blinding. Strings of colored lights drew, independently of the buildings, meaningless shapes. The chromatic lights, as well as the lack of logic in the lines, tortured common sense. It was too interesting to stay any longer in the hotel room. I went out into the street, blending in with the countless passersby. What has happened? I asked myself. Had the city been occupied while we were sleeping? The people we encountered on the streets were completely different from those just a few hours earlier. I could see disharmonious figures, bulging eyes, messy hair and hot-tempered expressions everywhere. They wandered the streets like drug addicts. The sudden, indecisive movements caused them to collide chaotically in a true Brownian motion. At every step, altercations broke out, the verbal violence shot out sharply, often followed by real brawls. The locals’ attire was no longer the same as during the day. The place of simply tailored garments had been taken over by asymmetry, the intention to shock, the abuse of shine, as well as nudity. Phosphorescent substances in unusual colors tattooed mysterious symbols on bodies. The electrified hair of some people sparkled in the air like magic wands. If I couldn’t decipher the noises from my room, it was for blessed reasons: inarticulate screams, simple temperamental outbursts rose from all sides like jets of frozen water, rising, falling, without reason. 

I wandered disoriented through the strange night of the city, without understanding how the reality of the day could have transformed into a nocturnal nightmare. I was searching in the crowd for a neutral face, if not a bewildered one, as my own face likely appeared, to seek clarifications, but none could be seen. The crowd was thrashing about in the streets and squares, contorting themselves in a grotesque carnival. Unwillingly, I was swept away by the torrent. The chaos seemed to evoke the ancient Rio carnival, but this was worse. The dense, oppressive atmosphere became increasingly palpable. My eyes were stinging, and the noise in my ears was beginning to filter into a dull roar. Then I noticed the reddish light that permeated everything. Unnoticed, the colors had undergone a true “red shift.” White turned into a murky pink, blue was tinged with purple, and yellow acquired fiery glimmers. The sky itself, black among the unknown stars, turned into reddish, as if the air was imbued with rustpowder. I turned around and suddenly observed behind me, above the city, a big dark purple circle on the sky, the twin sun has risen. It was a failed star, if not extinguished, emitting a noticeable heat and who knows what a harmful radiation. The immensity of the solar disc made me wonder if the star is larger or closer than its luminous counterpart. But I couldn’t stay on the wavelength of astronomical curiosity for long due to the escalating agitation around me. The wave of the crowd was heading in different directions, which for me, already unaccustomed to the crowd and movement, was a terrible ordeal. 

Confident in myself due to my strength and youth, as well as the unwavering training over so many years, I was convinced that adapting to Perilepum happened naturally. The incident-free morning had made me forget the classic recommendations regarding spending the first days on a celestial body. But it wasn’t a subjective reaction of the maladjusted wanderer; it was a truly unknown planet that would shock anyone coming from anywhere. And then I saw Telogene. But was it her or an unleashed fury? I had to get closer to convince myself, and to succeed, I found myself forced to use my fists, like a true Perilepumian. Telogene danced. What other word could convey the chain of free movements in which she lost herself as if in a drunken stupor? Dancing, she waved a scarf like fire. The candid face, the direct expression had vanished without a trace. With wild hair and fierce eyes, she seemed to scratch with just her gaze. I grabbed her by the arm with a sudden movement. She wasn’t surprised. “The Wanderer,” he burst out laughing. The madman who races aimlessly through space, in search of ghosts! Don’t you want a young and powerful ghost? Take me!
In the next moment, however, little Telogene tore herself away from me and clung to the neck of a stranger. She covered his face with kisses, then jumped onto his back. The man did not seem surprised by the display. Well-built, he shrugged off the shoulders as if you blinked, without stopping for more than a second. I rushed after him. Telogene had sunk her claws into the boy’s curls, who was grinning while holding her by the ankles. I stood frozen, barely following the girl’s fiery scarf disappearing into the crowd. I couldn’t understand this situation. Telogene, the red light, the mad crowd, the changed world …

I felt old. My arms were being torn from my shoulders, my chest was pressing my breath like a rock. I wandered, collapsing into myself until, by a miracle, I found my hotel again. I was deaf, blind, anesthetized. In such a state, this nest seemed like a welcoming haven to me. It was very late. I fell into a deep sleep immediately. When I woke up, the room was flooded with light. I went out onto the terrace. At my feet, stretching far away, lay the city, with an angelic calm.
I threw my watch away. After its erratic behavior, I hadn’t slept even for an hour. However, I was completely restored. I asked myself one big question: Where had the city disappeared to since last night? We landed at the hotel reception. “You know,” I casually told the receptionist, with an involuntary goodwill, “I slept like a baby on your stone mysery.” “Not surprising,” he replied. You haven’t slept for even three-quarters of an earthly hour. My poor watch hadn’t betrayed me. My silence seemed encouraging to him. 

– Forgive us our awkwardness regarding comfort. On Perilepum, no one sleeps… Don’t you want to get a little familiar with our planet? And he handed me a stack of brochures with the most diverse aspects and techniques. I buried them in the pocket lining that padded my suit and hurried towards the ship’s review dock. Next were the reception and takeoff. Late at night, in the solitude of my ship, I remembered the talking images, the advertisement pills, and the other trinkets acquired on Perilepum. Before arranging them in my extra-solar tourist collection, I examined them. If Perilepum was a strange planet, the Perilepumian were even stranger. Under the influence of the two suns, the planet had two faces. The sun of the day activated the first brain of the Perilepumians, the brain receptive to light, a generator of beauty and harmony. With the arrival of night, this brain enters a kind of living death. More precisely: it was asleep. Instead of this, the other brain woke up. After the day’s rest, it took over the man from the planet of contrasts, unleashing instincts he wasn’t even aware of. The Perilepumians did not know fatigue. The brain of the night freed the island from all the repressions of the day. The brain of the day drives away the residue of the shadows from the most hidden corners of the body, allowing it to accumulate beneficial forces from the daytime sun. Reactivated without fail, the pigments of one annihilated the toxins accumulated under the dominion of the other star. 

– What an adaptation! I shouted into the familiar emptiness of the cabin. These descendants of the colonists from Earth live two lives! And they do not sacrifice their time in order to sleep!
I felt then the sweet pain of nostalgia for their impossible, uncomfortable, meaningless life, but also unmatched! And after Telogene, the angelic, the unleashed, the misunderstood Telogene, about whom I didn’t even know enough to send her a message… I recovered quite soon. Lying on the comfortable bed, with my arms under my head, I dictated the report about the visited planet like an exemplary galactic wanderer.

Erni-Szakács Szilárd was born on the 16th of September 1999 at the City of Oradea. He studied at the Partium Christian University at the English Language and Literature specialization. His research topic was The representation of refugees in the British media, which after graduation was published at Lambert Academic Publishing in 2023. He lives at the City of Oradea and considers that literature is a form of expression of the soul. Adores writing short stories, poems, reviews and scholarly papers.