Beyond Boundaries with Julian Morraine (EP - 1_2): Waking Up in Another World - My First Days on Proxima Centauri b

Waking Up in Another World: My First Days on Proxima Centauri b

 

By Julian Morraine

 

Earth Date: Dec 20th, 2043

Zarumin Date: Orbita 66,621, Lumina Cycle 27, Zara 15 (66621:27:15)

 

Hibernation: A Leap Through Time

    It’s a surreal feeling, waking up in a place you’ve never been. I’ve done it countless times on Earth—rolling out of a makeshift bed in a jungle hut, shaking off jet lag in a bustling city half a world away. But this time was different. This time, I wasn’t just waking up in a new place—I was waking up on a new planet, orbiting a star more than four light-years from home.

 

    When I entered the hibernation chamber aboard the Venturer nearly nine years ago, I was acutely aware of the enormity of what I was about to do. The scientists had explained the process to me in detail: how my body would be put into a state of suspended animation, my metabolism slowed to a fraction of its normal rate, and my mind drifting into a dreamless sleep. But nothing could prepare me for the disorientation of waking up to find that the world I left behind had moved on without me.

 

    As the hibernation chamber slowly brought me back to consciousness, I became aware of a faint hum—probably the life support systems—followed by the soft, steady beep of the monitors tracking my vitals. I opened my eyes to the dim light of the chamber, the walls covered in a soft blue glow. There was no jarring wake-up call, no loud alarms—just a gentle reminder that it was time to rejoin the living.

 

    My muscles were stiff, and it took a moment for my senses to fully return. I felt like I was shaking off a deep, lingering fatigue, but there was also a strange sense of renewal as if I had been given a fresh start. I blinked a few times, trying to focus on my surroundings. The chamber’s lid lifted slowly, revealing the interior of the ship’s medical bay where a team of human and Zarumin doctors stood ready to assess my condition.

 

The Descent to Luminara: First Glimpses of Proxima Centauri b

 

    After the initial medical checks and some time to acclimate, I was led to the observation deck, where I finally got my first view of Proxima Centauri b. I had imagined this moment for years, but nothing could have prepared me for the sight that awaited me. The planet was a swirling mix of colors, dominated by the deep hues of the twilight zone where the Zarumin civilization thrives.

 

    From orbit, the contrast between the day, night, and twilight zones was stark. The day side was a blinding expanse of bright light, while the night side was an inky black void. But the twilight zone captivated me—a thin band of perpetual dawn and dusk stretching around the planet like a glowing ring. Here, the sun remains fixed in the sky, neither rising nor setting, casting the landscape in a constant state of soft, ethereal light. This was where I would spend the next five years exploring, learning, and immersing myself in a world unlike mine.

 

    The descent to the surface was smooth, thanks to the advanced technology of the Zarumin ships that had ferried us down. As we broke through the planet’s atmosphere, I felt the slight tug of gravity reasserting itself after years of hibernation. The ship shuddered gently as we passed through layers of clouds, and then, suddenly, the city of Luminara came into view.

 

First Impressions: Luminara, The Cultural Capital

 

    Luminara is unlike any city I’ve seen on Earth. From the air, it looked like a sprawling, organic growth seamlessly integrated into the landscape. The architecture is a blend of natural forms and advanced technology, with buildings that seem to grow out of the ground rather than be constructed on top of it. The city is bathed in a soft, ambient light—a mix of the natural glow from the twilight zone and the bioluminescent lights that the Zarumin use to illuminate their surroundings.

 

    As we landed, I was struck by the city’s calm energy. There was none of the frantic rush you’d find in a major Earth city. Instead, everything seemed to move at a deliberate, measured pace, as if the inhabitants were in perfect harmony with their environment. I later learned that this was a reflection of Zarumin culture—an emphasis on balance and sustainability, on living in tune with the natural world rather than imposing upon it.

 

    The landing platform was located near the heart of Luminara, and as we disembarked, we were each handed a small, sleek device—a portable air monitor provided by the Zarumin. While the atmosphere was largely breathable, our guides explained that the air contained trace gases that might take some getting used to. We were encouraged to wear the devices during our first few days until the monitors confirmed that our bodies had fully adjusted to the environment.

 

    Radiation was another concern, particularly given the unpredictable flares from Proxima Centauri. Fortunately, the Zarumin had thought of everything. Luminara, like other major settlements, was constructed with advanced materials that offered significant protection against the harshest stellar radiation. While we were relatively safe in the twilight zone, we were briefed on the importance of avoiding certain exposed areas, especially near the day side, without proper gear.

 

    This was my first face-to-face encounter with the inhabitants of Proxima Centauri b, and I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. The Zarumin are humanoid in form but with subtle differences that remind you just how far from home you really are. Their skin has a faint, iridescent sheen, reflecting the ambient light in mesmerizing patterns. Their eyes are larger than ours, adapted to the lower light levels of the twilight zone, and their movements are graceful, almost fluid.

 

    The delegation welcomed us with a ceremony that was both formal and intimate. There were no grand speeches, pomp, or circumstance—just a simple exchange of gestures and words conveying respect and goodwill. I was struck by their sense of community, a deep bond that seemed to transcend individual identities. It was clear that the Zarumin placed great importance on unity and cooperation, values that would shape my interactions with them in the days to come.

 

Processing in Luminara: A New Reality

 

    After the ceremony, we were led to the central processing facility, where all new arrivals were registered and acclimated to life on Proxima Centauri b. The facility was a marvel of efficiency, designed to process a large number of people quickly without sacrificing the personal touch. Each of us was assigned a Zarumin guide to help us navigate the city and its customs during our first few days.

 

    The processing itself was straightforward. We went through a series of briefings on everything from local laws and customs to environmental hazards and emergency procedures. The Zarumin take their responsibilities as hosts seriously, ensuring that we understand the importance of respecting their world and their way of life. There were medical evaluations, psychological assessments, and even a session on cultural norms—an introduction to the Zarumin’s complex social structure and their deep connection to the natural world.

 

    I was fascinated to learn about the unique way the Zarumin measures time. On a tidally locked planet, where the sun never moves from its position in the sky, time is not marked by day and night cycles as it is on Earth. Instead, the Zarumin use a system based on their planet’s orbit around Proxima Centauri. They’ve developed a highly accurate calendar system that divides their year into “orbita,” with each orbita split into segments corresponding to Earth’s weeks and months. The concept of “day” and “night” here is more about shifts in activity and rest, with the constant light providing a surreal, unchanging backdrop.

 

    Another fascinating aspect was the use of a translator device, an essential tool for communication. While I had studied some basic Zarumin language before my journey, the nuances of their speech and the sheer breadth of their vocabulary made the translator indispensable. The device was seamlessly integrated into my earpiece, translating their language in real-time with a clarity that allowed for natural conversation. It was a marvel of technology—another gift from the Zarumin that made our interaction smoother and more meaningful.

 

First Meal in Luminara: A Taste of the Twilight Zone

 

    One of the first things I wanted to experience was the food. I’ve always believed that to understand a culture, you must start with what’s on their plate. Kevaris, my guide, was more than happy to oblige. After our initial processing, he took me to a nearby communal dining hall—an open-air space surrounded by lush greenery, with bioluminescent plants providing a soft, ambient glow.

 

    The meal began with a series of small, delicately arranged dishes, each one a feast for the senses. The Zarumin diet is largely plant-based, with a focus on sustainability and balance. The first dish was a type of algae harvested from the lakes and rivers of the twilight zone. It was rich in flavor, with a taste that reminded me of Earth’s seaweed but with a subtle sweetness that lingered on the palate. Next came a bowl of root vegetables, roasted and seasoned with a blend of spices that had a warming, almost citrus-like quality.

 

    The main course was a dish made from a grain that the Zarumin cultivated in their terraced fields. It was served with various vegetables and a sauce made from fermented fruits—tangy, slightly sour, and utterly delicious. The Zarumin are masters of fermentation, using it to preserve food and enhance its nutritional value and flavor.

 

    We were served a delicate pastry filled with a sweet, creamy paste made from a local fruit for dessert. The texture was light and airy, almost like a soufflé, with a flavor that was both familiar and exotic—something like a cross between mango and lychee, with a hint of floral notes. As I savored each bite, I couldn’t help but marvel at the complexity and balance of the flavors. Clearly, the Zarumin had elevated their cuisine to an art form, with a deep respect for the ingredients and the land from which they came.

 

    Throughout the meal, Kevaris explained the significance of each dish, how it was prepared, and the cultural traditions surrounding food in Zarumin society. Meals, he told me, are an important part of Zarumin life—not just for sustenance but as a way to strengthen communal bonds. Eating together is seen as a form of communion with nature, a way to honor the planet that sustains them. It was a refreshing perspective that resonated with my belief in the power of food to bring people together.

 

The Story of Kevaris: A Guide with Deep Roots

 

    As we continued to eat, I learned more about Kevaris himself. He wasn’t just any guide; he was someone deeply connected to the history and culture of Luminara. Kevaris came from a long line of scholars and spiritual leaders, known as the Luminaris, who have guided the city’s growth for generations. His family played a key role in the construction of the Luminaris Spire, the towering structure that symbolizes the Zarumin’s connection to both the earth and the stars.

 

    Kevaris had spent much of his life studying his people’s ancient texts and traditions, mastering the knowledge passed down through centuries. But he wasn’t just a scholar—he was also a traveler who had journeyed to the farthest reaches of Proxima Centauri b, exploring the remote regions of the twilight zone and even venturing into the perilous day and night sides. His travels had given him a unique perspective on the planet, and he was eager to share that knowledge with me.

 

    Despite his deep ties to tradition, Kevaris was also forward-thinking, embracing the new era of contact with humans as an opportunity for growth and learning. He had been one of the first Zarumin to volunteer as a guide for human visitors, seeing it as a way to bridge the gap between our two worlds. His calm demeanor and thoughtful insights made him the perfect companion for my journey, someone who could help me navigate the complexities of Zarumin society while also providing a deep understanding of the land itself.

 

Exploring Luminara: A City of Light and Shadows

 

    Once our meal was finished, Kevaris took me on a tour of the city, offering insights into its history and culture. Luminara is the cultural heart of the Zarumin civilization, a place where art, science, and spirituality converge in a harmonious and awe-inspiring way.

The city is built around a central plaza, a vast open space that is the hub for social and cultural life. The plaza is surrounded by buildings of various shapes and sizes, their organic forms blending seamlessly with the landscape. Many of the structures are covered in living plants, which provide a stunning visual display and contribute to the city’s ecosystem by filtering the air and regulating temperature.

 

    As we walked through the streets, I was struck by the quiet beauty of the city. The buildings are illuminated by soft, bioluminescent lights that glow with a gentle, pulsating rhythm, creating an atmosphere of tranquility. The air is cool and crisp, with a faint scent of earth and vegetation. Everywhere I looked, I saw signs of the Zarumin’s deep connection to their environment—from the carefully tended gardens that line the streets to the intricate patterns carved into the stone walls, each one a tribute to the natural world.

 

    One of the most striking features of Luminara is the Luminaris Spire, a towering structure that rises above the city like a beacon. The Spire is both a religious and cultural symbol, a place where the Zarumin come to meditate, study, and connect with the deeper mysteries of their existence. Kevaris explained that the Spire’s design is based on ancient Zarumin cosmology, representing the connection between the earth, the sky, and the stars beyond.

 

    As we approached the Spire, I was overwhelmed by a sense of reverence. The structure is made of a translucent material that seems to glow from within, its surface etched with intricate patterns that shimmer in the ambient light. Inside, the atmosphere is serene, almost sacred. The air is filled with a low, resonant hum—a sound that I later learned is produced by the Spire itself, a form of vibrational energy that the Zarumin use for meditation and healing.

 

    Kevaris led me through the Spire, explaining that the building is a central point for spiritual practices and scientific endeavors. The Zarumin do not see these two aspects of their lives as separate; instead, they view them as complementary. Science and spirituality are intertwined in a way that enhances their understanding of the universe and their place within it. It’s a perspective that felt both familiar and profoundly different from anything I had experienced on Earth.

 

    As we continued our tour, Kevaris pointed out various public spaces—libraries filled with knowledge accumulated over millennia, art galleries displaying works that blended natural elements with advanced techniques, and communal gardens where citizens gathered to share meals and stories. The sense of community was palpable, a testament to the Zarumin’s emphasis on collective well-being over individual gain.

 

First Interactions: The Zarumin and Their World

 

    One of the things that struck me most about the Zarumin is their approach to life. Everything they do has a calm, deliberate quality, a sense of purpose and balance that is deeply ingrained in their culture. They value harmony and cooperation, not just among themselves but with the world around them. This is reflected in every aspect of their society, from how they build their cities to how they interact with each other and with us.

 

    Kevaris was patient and attentive, answering my questions and offering insights into Zarumin life. He explained that the Zarumin view themselves as stewards of their planet, responsible for maintaining the ecosystem’s delicate balance. This stewardship extends to their interactions with us—they see our presence on Proxima Centauri b as an opportunity for mutual learning and growth and a responsibility to ensure that we do not disrupt the harmony of their world.

 

    I was also struck by Zarumin’s approach to technology. While they are clearly far more advanced than we are, they do not view technology as an end in itself but as a tool to enhance their connection with the natural world. Their buildings, transportation systems, and even medical technologies are designed to be in harmony with the environment, minimizing impact and enhancing the well-being of all who live there.

 

    As we made our way back to the processing facility, Kevaris pointed out some of the city’s residential areas. The Zarumin live in homes that blend seamlessly with the natural landscape. These dwellings are built with materials that not only provide comfort and safety but also enhance the surrounding ecosystem. I found this level of environmental integration both impressive and humbling.

 

Preparing for Tenebrae: The Journey Continues

 

    After a few days in Luminara, it was time to prepare for the next leg of my journey—to Tenebrae, one of the oldest and most storied cities on Proxima Centauri b. Tenebrae is located further into the twilight zone, closer to the boundary between light and dark. It is a place of contrasts, where the shadows are deeper and the light more elusive—a fitting next step in my exploration of this remarkable world.

 

    As I packed my belongings and said my goodbyes to the friends I had made in Luminara, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation. My time in Luminara had been a revelation—a glimpse into a world that was both alien and familiar, a place where the boundaries between nature and civilization, technology and spirituality, were beautifully blurred. But I knew there was so much more to discover, and the journey was just beginning.

 

    With Kevaris by my side, I boarded the transport that would take me to Tenebrae, my mind racing with thoughts of what lay ahead. The landscape below us changed as we left the glowing heart of Luminara, the light growing dimmer and the shadows longer as we approached the edge of the city. I looked back one last time, watching the Luminaris Spire fade into the distance. Its glow reminded me of the incredible journey I was about to undertake.

 

    This was Proxima Centauri b—a world of light and shadow, balance and harmony, mystery and discovery. And I was here, ready to explore it all.

 

Julian Morraine is a celebrated travel writer, chef, and documentarian known for his relentless pursuit of the extraordinary. Julian has explored the world’s most fascinating cultures and cuisines, from the bustling markets of Marrakesh to the remote highlands of Tibet. With a passion for storytelling and a deep curiosity about the unknown, Julian’s work has taken him to the farthest corners of Earth—and now, beyond it. His latest journey to Proxima Centauri b marks a new chapter in his career as he ventures into the final frontier in search of new experiences and untold stories.

Julian’s adventures have been chronicled in numerous best-selling books and award-winning documentaries, making him a beloved figure among those who share his love for exploration. Whether sampling street food in Bangkok or navigating the icy landscapes of Antarctica, Julian Morraine continues to inspire with his boundless enthusiasm and insatiable curiosity.