Unity Dawn - by Pen Kiel

The stars skipped.Captain Emeka Okafor noticed. Watching the sky had always been part of his life. He grew up outside Enugu. Power used to go off at night. People sat outside to feel the air on their skin. His father would point to the stars and talk about them like old friends. Emeka learned their patterns before he learned how to use a computer.Years later, space travel was normal. Nigeria and other African countries shared stations, ships, and routes. The Unity Dawn was not a special ship. It carried supplies, research tools, and a small crew. The mission was simple: travel past the outer routes, test new navigation paths, and return home.Nothing risky. Nothing brave. They expected boredom more than danger.The crew trusted routine. Chioma handled communications. Obinna kept the engines alive. Ngozi flew the ship with quiet focus. Emeka had flown many missions like this before. He believed real problems always showed themselves early.The ship left the last known space route and continued forward. Engines hummed as always. Screens blinked with soft light from the navigation data.Obinna nudged Ngozi. “Do you think the food packs will still taste like chicken in zero gravity?”Ngozi didn’t look up. “If you’re hoping for real chicken, you’ll be disappointed. Just eat the paste and be grateful.”Chioma laughed over the intercom. “Obinna, you’ll complain about everything until we get home. Remember last mission? You spent three days trying to boil water in space.”Obinna grinned. “That was a tactical miscalculation. Not my fault the kettle refuses to float.”Emeka shook his head, smiling a little. “Keep it down. Engines don’t like laughing too much.”Someone dropped a pack of rations. It floated slowly across the cabin. Ngozi swatted it back into place. The crew’s laughter echoed softly. Space could be boring, but never lonely.The stars skipped again.Emeka frowned and leaned forward.“What happened?”Chioma checked her screen. “Outside cameras lost picture for three seconds. Everything else looks normal.”“Play it.”The recording showed three seconds of empty space. No stars or color. After the stars returned.Something settled badly in Emeka’s chest.The sky felt wrong.The crew checked direction. Coordinates matched. Space markers launched years ago from African stations confirmed the ship’s position.Emeka moved closer to the glass.Something waited ahead.A round shape.Black. Smooth.Ship lights touched it and disappeared.“Any record of something like this?” Emeka asked.Chioma shook her head. “No heat. No signal.”“What are we seeing?”She stared at the screen longer than before.“…Nothing.”Sleep broke that night.Obinna woke shouting, tangled in his sheets.“I am falling into the sky,” he cried. “My eyes are open but nobody is inside me.”Ngozi stayed awake in the control room. She sat on the floor with her back to the wall.“This body feels wrong,” she said. “Like I borrowed it.”Medical checks came in the morning. Heartbeats stayed steady. Brain scans showed no damage. Numbers looked normal.Fear did not show in the machines.The crew began to see other lives, not only in sleep but while awake.Obinna stared at his hands and went quiet. “I was old just now,” he said. “My back hurt.”Ngozi caught her reflection in a dark screen. Her hair looked braided the way her sister used to wear it in Lagos. She reached up. Her hand met air.Emeka saw himself standing alone on another bridge. Older. Quieter. He did not tell anyone.The black sphere blinked slowly, like it was breathing.Radar picked up movement.Another Unity Dawn.With same shape, markings and crew.Silence filled the ship.“It looks like us,” Chioma said.Emeka waited before he answered. “Different choices.”The second ship turned.A short warning came through.Move away.Weapons fired.The ship shook hard. Alarms screamed. A loose panel struck the floor. Emeka tasted metal in his mouth.Orders left him without shouting. Ngozi pulled the controls with both hands. Obinna shouted numbers from the engine room.One ship slowed.One ship pushed forward.That small difference decided everything.Only one ship remained.The return took six minutes.Ship records said two years passed.The ship landed at Abuja Orbital Port. Officials waited. Questions came later. But nobody answered them.The crew walked past without speaking.Ngozi scratched circles on the floor until her fingers bled. Obinna cried when he saw his face in a mirror. Chioma stopped sleeping.Emeka stayed silent.When he finally spoke, his voice sounded heavy.“A mirror,” he said. “Not a place.”He looked at his hands.“We saw every life we could have lived.”Nobody replied.“The life that came back,” he said,“was not the best one.”The ship was retired. Records were sealed by the Pan-African Space Authority.Far out in space, a weak signal still moves.Sometimes old radios catch the sound at night.One question repeats, carried by many voices.Which version of you made it home?

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