Climbing the Celestial Pathway

Henry sat at the table in the back corner of the cafe, his eyes scanning the room for potential threats. His back was against the wall, giving him a clear view of both the entrance and the only window. At the moment, he was sipping a cup of tea, but he could switch to coffee or water in less than a second.

It had been six months since he had arrived on this planet, and the amount of time he had spent sitting in cafes grew longer each day. He began by only going at night, when there were fewer people. Then he switched to daytime, when there were more people. It was a strange feeling, after spending so much time as a lone wolf.

The first time he sat down in a cafe, he had caught the eye of a young woman who was sitting alone. She was beautiful, with long, curly blonde hair and bright green eyes. For a moment, Henry had considered approaching her and trying to make conversation. But then something occurred to him: if she starts talking to me, does that mean she is a threat?

He decided to leave the cafe instead.

The second time he sat down in a cafe, he noticed an older man with a familiar mustache seated a few tables away. He turned away quickly and went out the back door.

The third time, he sat down and ordered a tea, pretending to read a book while watching the front door. The older man sat down outside of his line of sight, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

Finally, he became comfortable enough to sit down in a cafe and be a part of the crowd. He listened to the conversations around him, tried to guess the topics being discussed. He was beginning to understand the people of this planet.

And then the company sends him a message. They want him to return.

You have done well, the message said. You are ready to move up.

He had been expecting this moment for a long time. And yet, he was not ready. He was still learning about the culture of this planet. Was he ready to give it all up?

He decides to take one last trip around the planet before returning home. Perhaps he would learn something new.

Henry stood alone in a field of flowers. He walked over to a cluster of blue flowers and smelled them. They smelled like the ocean. He had never been to the ocean, and he wondered if they would look the same.

"Don't touch them."

Henry turned to see a young man standing behind him. "They're poisonous," the young man said. "I can't believe you're touching them. Are you some kind of idiot?"

Henry scoffed. "We're on Earth, and these are just flowers. I think you are the one being irrational."

The young man glared at him, and Henry was suddenly very aware of how dangerous the situation was. He reached for his gun, but almost immediately thought better of it. This man was unarmed, and it would be easy enough to take him down.

But something stopped him from doing so. Instead, he walked away from the man, back toward the path.

"Hey!" the man shouted. "What the hell are you doing?"

Henry didn't answer, and the man stormed after him.

"Hey! Stop! I'm talking to you!"

Henry turned around to face the man. "Can I help you?"

"You can start by not touching my flowers!" the man said. "They're my livelihood!"

"Your livelihood?" Henry said, a bit shocked. "What do you mean?"

"I'm a farmer!" the man said. "I grow these flowers. I sell them to the city, and people there pay me for them."

"That's interesting," Henry said, trying to remain calm. "And who pays you for your work?"

"The company, of course," the man said. "What other reason would there be?"

The man was still hot with anger, and Henry felt a bit of pity for him. He looked so young, with his full head of hair and smooth skin. There was a time when Henry looked just like him.

"Well, have a nice day," Henry said, and he walked away.

Henry watched the clouds roll in through the window. A storm was coming, and he was glad to be indoors. The hotel was small, but the rooms were cheap and clean.

He had just finished visiting the factory where the locals made their toys. It wasn't a very pretty sight, with the dark and dirty facilities and the constant noise. Henry felt lucky to have grown up in a society where everything was automated. He envied the locals for their hard work, though.

He remembered the time when he was a young boy. His father would often tell him about how hard people used to work. He told Henry about how he would wake up early each day and walk to a factory where he would spend hours making parts for a machine. When he was finished, the machine would make toys, which he would then carry to the market. He would spend the rest of the day selling the toys until it was time to go home. It was difficult work, but it was rewarding, his father had said.

Henry went to bed early, but he couldn't sleep. He kept thinking about the factory, and the young man he had met earlier that day. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he had been unfair to the young man. He had judged him without actually getting to know him.

Henry got out of bed and walked to the window. It was raining, and he stared out into the darkness. He felt bad for what he had done.

Suddenly, a flash of lightning hit nearby. He jumped back, startled. He fell back onto the bed, and his eyes shot open.

He looked over to the window. It was still dark, and the rain was still falling.

A light flashed again, and Henry leaped out of bed. He ran to the window and looked out. There were people walking through the rain, and cars driving down the street. Everything looked normal.

Henry blinked. Was this a dream?

He didn't have time to think about it. Another flash of lightning lit up the sky. It was followed by several more, and Henry realized that this was more than a dream. It was a vision.

He was here, living on this planet. He was a farmer, and he worked hard to make sure that he had food to eat. And he was angry with Henry, because Henry had touched his flowers.

Henry knew that he was not supposed to interfere. The future had already been written. He was here to learn, not to change anything.

But he couldn't help himself. If he didn't do something, then the young man would die.

Henry took a deep breath, and he ran out of the hotel.

Henry walked into the bar and approached the young man. He tapped him on the shoulder, and the young man turned around. He was still angry, still filled with rage.