To The Stars
Copyright 2015
By Kachi Ugo

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, taping, or retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotes embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

For more information about Kachi Ugo, please visit: https://kachiugo.com

Dekatron, Meel, ritababe, kwencypresh, Emmeritus, Nostradamus, lenmafon, and Lordfave, I am inviting you to this thread where I intend to tell my next story in a serialized fashion. I do not know whether you enjoyed my last story, To Hunt A Level Four, but if you did, I hope you would enjoy this story even more. I'm sorry I ran off on you and published the book; I will send you a free copy upon your request! I appreciate your comments on my last thread, and I look forward to reading and responding to your comments on this thread!

Cheers!
Kachi Ugo

Before I begin this story, I must warn you. The events portrayed in this story are true. If you are weak of heart and feeble of mind, I strongly urge you to leave this thread now. However, if you are one who seeks Truth then by all means read on! Although, I cannot assure you that it is Truth you will find at the final words of this tale.

WARNING: The story you are about to read contains adult content. Readers' discretion is advised.

Present

lets go

KachiUgo:
Dekatron, Meel, ritababe, kwencypresh, Emmeritus, Nostradamus, lenmafon, and Lordfave, I am inviting you to this thread where I intend to tell my next story in a serialized fashion. I do not know whether you enjoyed my last story, To Hunt A Level Four, but if you did, I hope you would enjoy this story even more. I'm sorry I ran off on you and published the book; I will send you a free copy upon your request! I appreciate your comments on my last thread, and I look forward to reading and responding to your comments on this thread!

Cheers!
Kachi Ugo

following

Provided it's Kachiugo.

KachiUgo:
Dekatron, Meel, ritababe, kwencypresh, Emmeritus, Nostradamus, lenmafon, and Lordfave, I am inviting you to this thread where I intend to tell my next story in a serialized fashion. I do not know whether you enjoyed my last story, To Hunt A Level Four, but if you did, I hope you would enjoy this story even more. I'm sorry I ran off on you and published the book; I will send you a free copy upon your request! I appreciate your comments on my last thread, and I look forward to reading and responding to your comments on this thread!

Cheers!
Kachi Ugo

leggo

Make i bend if i no follow. . . Lets go there. . . Wll request for the e book later. .to read on laptop . . . . HITTING THE FOLLOW BUTTON

We're still awaiting an update @ kachiugo pls try to post asap

Shadowbean:
Provided it's Kachiugo.

Damn right, it's KachiUgo! Loving your story - Operation: Black Shadow - already...

Dekatron:
Make i bend if i no follow. . . Lets go there. . . Wll request for the e book later. .to read on laptop . . . . HITTING THE FOLLOW BUTTON

LOL! I see you, Dekatron! I see you!! Enjoy this one.

Lordfave:
We're still awaiting an update @ kachiugo pls try to post asap

Sorry to keep you waiting. I recently found a plot hole in the story that could fit, clean, a Bulldozer! Solved it already, though. I'm posting soon! Enjoy this one.

Alright, people! The stage is set. The story begins.

This might sound like a broken record, but for mercy's (and lunacy's) sake, I must resound my warning:

KachiUgo:
Before I begin this story, I must warn you. The events portrayed in this story are true. If you are weak of heart and feeble of mind, I strongly urge you to leave this thread now. However, if you are one who seeks Truth then by all means read on! Although, I cannot assure you that it is Truth you will find at the final words of this tale.

WARNING: The story you are about to read contains adult content. Readers' discretion is advised.

Hehehehehehehehehehehehe . . . . Drop am nah




now playing : Rich Gang - have it your way .

Kachi, why d punishment nah?

Fantastic, KachiUgo! Now, give us the story already!

Bring it on...

opalk:
Bring it on...

Ok! Here goes...

To The Stars - Part 1

Copyright 2015
By Kachi Ugo

What is man save a vapor that is quickly unfurling into oblivion?
What is life save a transient moment?
- Chi B

Prologue:

I remembered reading in some huge manual some time ago that if the cockpit compartment becomes unusually very cold it means death is irrevocably few minutes away. Death by asphyxiation: Terrible! This was why when a chill penetrated my space suit and settled on my skin four minutes ago, I ceased my frantic efforts to revive the spaceship’s lifepod, I took the small recorder I had wedged between two large buttons on the right dashboard, and I sat on the floor with my back to the airlock.

Now, I’m looking up through the cockpit window and all I see is a vast and staggering number of stars. They are like glittering particles that have been sprinkled on a black background. Just off to the right I can see a part of the moon. It looks like a crescent moon, but it isn’t. It’s a full moon. Though all I see is a part of it. Notwithstanding, its beauty never ceases to astound me. As I lay with my back to the airlock, I’m not only marveling at the beauty of the heavens; I’m also wondering at what it would be like to grow old. I’m wondering at what it would be like to get married or have children. And with my cheek burning with embarrassment, I’m wondering what it would feel like to make love to a woman. Sadly, all these things I will never get to do because in the next seven hours I am going to die, and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

That’s why I’m writing this. So you can know the truth. I’m sure that by now the government is already flooding the media with false reports to cover up what they had really intended to do up here—that failed; or rather, that I thwarted… You know, I will tell you the truth. I wish I had taken the bribe. I wish I had gone against all moral and ethical conduct. If I had, maybe I would right now be reentering the atmosphere with the rest of my crew, with our families waiting for us at the Kennedy Space Center in Merritt Island and our whole lives still ahead of us.

You know, we watch movies and get told stories about how a guy makes a tough and brave decision at the probable expense of his life and in the end survives and comes out the hero. Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but sh*t doesn’t always happen like that. Sometimes you stand for truth and morality and honestly, you get killed! Jesus got killed, didn’t he? But He stood for righteousness! Peter, James, and the lot of Jesus’s disciples got killed, didn’t they? Did they not stand for truth?

It’s too late for me now—too late to change my decision. But before I go, I want to do one more good, even though I don’t have to. I am going to tell you the truth.

Into my small recorder, I say, “My name is Chibuzor Mathew Nwike. I am twenty three, and I have a PhD in Astor Physics. My codename is ChiB, and my ID is X2NG419419.”

When I’m done telling you the truth, I am going to attach this recording to this letter, so that through the recording, you can confirm that I am indeed who I say I am and that what I’m about to tell you really happened. In the recording I have provided you with four information to confirm my identity: my full name, my degree, my ID, and my voice. I don’t know who you are, dear reader. I cannot tell where on the surface of the earth that my writing will land. But know this, I hold you in mind as I pen down these words even in my final moments in this life.

In this instance, I define the right hand as the one who is true at heart. The hand that wants to stand against injustice no matter how small, no matter how great. And I hope to god that this letter finds its way to the right hand. However, seeing as I cannot guarantee that this will find its way into the right hand, I’m left with only one thing: A plea. Help me, I beg you! Help me save my country. You don’t have to do anything, just let the world read this. Let the world know the truth.

A warning beep pulls my attention to a panel on the left ceiling. My oxygen level is seriously depleted. I now have six hours to live. So this account will be short. I promise you this, though: this tale only ends in bitterness and death as you have already probably deduced.

In case you are still wondering, yes, I’m currently in space! Yes, I’m a Nigerian! No, I wasn’t born in America, Britain, Russia, or one of the several other countries that have a thriving space program! I was born in a small town in Lagos State. No, I never schooled abroad—well…not exactly. I went to school at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka before I had to travel to Massachusetts because I had enough sense to dream. And yes, the whole of my crew is dead—four Americans, three Britons, two Russians, and one especially sexy Latino. I’m the only one alive, for now.

Before I write another word, I look back up to the star strewn heavens and sigh. With watery eyes, I add to my writing: don’t pity me. I do not want your pity. I am going to die. You are going to die. Hell, the whole goddamn earth is going to die! Big deal! All I want from you is for you to see… See why I had to do what I did. See Truth. Because before we know freedom, we must first know Truth.

This is my story:

9ce one

Dekatron:
Hehehehehehehehehehehehe . . . . Drop am nah




now playing : Rich Gang - have it your way .

Kachi, why d punishment nah?

Lol!

eudoh940:
Fantastic, KachiUgo! Now, give us the story already!

Given!

opalk:
9ce one

Thanks a lot!

KachiUgo:
Thanks a lot!

oya now. . . . Suspense too much ke . . . Haba!!



Bring it on bro

To The Stars - Part 2

Copyright 2015
By Kachi Ugo

See Truth. Because before you know freedom, you must first know Truth
-Chi B

If you’ve never been to Nsukka before, don’t ever go there! Consider yourself warned. If you are a Jambite who is planning on filling UNN as their first choice university, don’t! I schooled there, and I can tell you now that it’s a terrible idea. Save yourself all the pain and heartbreaks and apply somewhere else. And to that guy in the back of the room waving and shouting: “THIS IS BAD PUBLICITY! THIS IS BAD PUBLICITY!! YOU’RE JUST SLANDERING THE SCHOOL BECAUSE YOU COULDN’T MAKE A DECENT GRADE!” I only have this to say to you: There is no such thing as bad publicity and in all my two years of studying mechanical engineering in the “den,” I maintained a perfect grade point average (in case you don’t know what that is, dumb ass, it means I had a 5.0 at the end of my second year second semester—and if you still don’t know what that means, sh*t face, it means I never had any grade other than an A+. Douche bag!). Arghhh!

Anyway, as I was saying. UNN? Bad idea.

Nsukka unfortunately sits on soft green hills in Central South Eastern Nigeria, tucked neatly between Udi hills and Awka. This is unfortunate because: such a fine location, yet such a piss poor city. Anyway, the only reason Nsukka is on the map is because UNN is situated there. And the only reason why Nsukka is in this tale is because that’s where my tragic end begins.

It began on a fine morning—yet, does not all evil begin as a seed of good? Is not hope the mother of desolation and sadness the seed of joy? It was a fine morning when I entered my academic adviser’s office, and he told me he had filled a transfer form for me. His office was about the same size as a broom cupboard except that there was a small window that over looked the huge Civil Engineering Complex.

“I hate to see geniuses like you waste away here in Nsukka,” Professor Attah said to me. He looked at me with hood-rimmed glasses, his piercing brown eyes regarding me with a mixture of pride and hurt. He sighed and flipped open a folder that had been sitting on his desk. He pulled out a single leaf of paper and motioned for me to take it. I had a stack of textbooks in my right hand, and I knew it was bad to collect something from my elder with my left hand, so I laboriously transferred the stack of my left hand.

All the while, Prof gazed at me, the paper still held out for me to take. Now, thinking back on that time in the small office in the Mechanical Engineering’s department building, I wish Prof had gotten annoyed at my clumsiness and withdrawn his offer. I wish I had somehow blown my chances with the Prof—I wish he had shouted me out of his office.

With my right hand now free, I took the paper and looked at it. The first thing that caught my attention was a three letter acronym: MIT, which stood for Massachusetts Institute of Technology. My heart was already racing when my eyes fell from the right corner of the paper to read the content of the document. MIT was my dream school. It was the foremost institute of science and technology in THE WORLD! Harvard doesn’t even begin to come close to MIT when it came to the number of Nobel Laureates in Chemistry, Mathematics, and Physics! How cool is that?

Naturally, anything about MIT excited me. I wasn’t ready for what I was about to read.

When I read to the last dot (the dot appended to the signature of the Dean of the department of Mechanical Engineering, MIT), I was trembling with fear. I was breathless. For a moment, a wave of dizziness washed over me and the books I held in my left hand fell off and slapped the ground with a startling sound. I tried to speak but I could not find my voice. I became uncomfortably aware of just how small my academic adviser’s broom cupboard was.

“Sir,” I started, my eyes slowly rising to meet the Professor’s flaccid gaze. “This is a … emm … it’s a … a …” My head spun.

“Yes, yes, yes, my boy,” the Prof replied, a nonchalance to his voice. “It’s an acceptance of your transfer to the department of Mechanical Engineering in MIT. Your visa is being processed by the embassy. You leave in two months.”

I still didn’t understand (that didn’t mean I wasn’t crazy excited!). “But sir, I never applied—”

“No, you didn’t,” the Prof said, cutting me off and attaching a mildly scornful look to his eyes. “None of you here have enough courage to dream. But you’re the best here. The brightest I’ve ever seen since … well, of course since me.”

People boast and exaggerate their pedigree. But everything Professor Attah had ever claimed to be, both in public lectures and in private adviser-advisee meetings, were accurate to the last letter, including his MIT B.Engr. degree and his Harvard Ph.D and his Professor Emeritus status at MIT. And especially his joint discovery of a new worm hole technology along with a chemistry Professor over at Princeton. Professor Attah was something of a legend at MIT and Harvard and Princeton. This was why it couldn’t have been too difficult for him to get me transferred to MIT’s Mech. Engr. Department. Of course, my 5.0 GPA didn’t hurt! This was also why I worshipped the man. I’d always dreamed of being like him, except for his broom cupboard, his atrocious sense of dressing, and his bushy white hair and beards that could have given Professor Wole Soyinka a run for his money.

Now a door stood before me; a door that led to boundless and limitless possibilities. All that was needed for me to gain entrance was to sign the column that signified that I accepted to leave Nsukka, Nigeria for Boston, America.

Even if I weren’t a lover of science and technology and Einstein and the unconquerable, unsolvable laws of advanced calculus; even if I weren’t a ridiculously handsome, typical Igbo boy; even if I weren’t a 5.0 star student of the university community, do you think this would have been much of a choice? I signed the hell out of that document and left the office in a hurry so that the Prof would not change his mind. It took me twenty minutes to get back to my room. During this time, I pinched myself severally, banged my hand against several light poles, struck my head (softly!) against several brick walls, and even jumped in front of a moving vehicle (thank goodness he was a good driver, if not, I might have been telling this story from yonder…) just to get myself to awake from my slumber—but, no! it wasn’t a dream. It was real—I was going to America to finish my B.Engr. program.

There was still tons of processing and paperwork and bureaucratic nightmares ahead, but I was going to America! And as sure as Suarez, two months later I found myself at the Muritala Muhammad Airport with my parents, some of my colleagues who had come to wish me good bye and good luck, Professor Attah, and some other high profile Professors from UNN.

Before I go on: yes, I’m a Barca fan. Men, did you see how they thrashed PSG?—hey, just because I’m in space doesn’t mean I don’t receive Super Sports. In fact, the pictures are clearer than when I watch it at Chika La Villa (if you’ve never been to UNN, you can’t possibly catch that reference).

We gathered around a small bar within Departure. I’d already checked my bag in, so I was set to go. In less than forty minutes, I would have to say my final goodbyes. But right now, we were all laughing at Professor Joseph’s joke about how he had fried a whole block’s electrical grid in San Francisco, when he had been helping some Ph.Ds fix a particle accelerator.