The Atomic One

Particles are what ultimately define atoms, within the complex nature of the universe and its contingencies. Science proclaims that we are constructed by emerging atoms in our bodies, representing the evolving nucleus of our variation and matter.

Consequently, human beings are no exception to the universal laws that govern our galaxy in congruity. Our prime existence manifests in the physical realm of our inherent nature established. It is through that undeniable realisation that we live a continual cycle of life, in accordance with its quintessence.

If life is solely measured by the atoms that shape us, then could it be plausible to imagine that life could exist on another planet or in another galaxy? Could a being from another place outside of Earth co-exist with humans and remain surreptitious and undetected to the naked eye? Ipso facto, I shall reveal to the reader the stranger that had appeared unannounced, on an unforgettable day of autumn.

My name is Werner Von Bauer, a physicist from Vienna, Austria, and it was a chilly evening in the year of 1948, when a strange man had moved into the house next to mine. The house had been abandoned and was apparently purchased by this mysterious man, whose name I did not know at the time. I was living on the outskirts of the city, performing my arduous experiments on physics.

I was an admirer of magnificent pioneers, such as Einstein, Boltzmann, and Planck, but it was Planck's quantum hypothesis that had intrigued me to seek answers to the relevant question, about atoms and how they functioned. I was resolute in my scientific quest to discover their structure and evolution, in their correlation to humans.

I had been working diligently, as I had mentioned, on the topic of atoms in my private laboratory, when I was able to see the stranger arrive through one of my windows. He was a willowy man from what I could descry, dressed in a distinctive grey suit and wore a trench coat over it, grey trousers, a fedora hat, and had dark glasses that covered his eyes completely.

At first, I thought nothing unusual, until I had noticed that he was alone. He did not appear to have a spouse nor children, but another thing that was highly uncommon was the fact that he had workers carry loads of objects into his house, in the form of boxes and crates.

For what reason, I did not know sufficiently. I had suspected that he was probably an important man, to have such things brought to his house. A businessman he had appeared to be or was he a Nazi sympathiser? It was known that after the war, former Nazis had sought refuge in Austria, amongst other countries in the world.

The next morning, I resumed my experiment, concentrating on the difference between positive and negative energy and how they corresponded with each other through their charge. I knew that an atom had consisted of a central nucleus that was surrounded by one or more negatively charged ones. However, I still was not certain how atoms could operate precisely in energy quanta. Modern science was advancing expeditiously, and new concepts and theories by physicists were being studied and introduced daily.

During the night, I would meticulously observe the transparency of the universe using my telescope, and I could perceive the light travelling interstellar distances. I was well acquainted with Rutherford's concept on the atom and his work. He had displayed that all the positive charge of an electron was stored in a minute atomic nucleus.

This nucleus was a thousand times smaller than the orbits of the electrons, and most of an atom was nothing more than empty space projected. I was convinced that the key was in understanding the actual structure of the atom first, before attempting to decipher its intended function.

As I was immersed in my thoughts, a sudden, radiant light had shone and had blinded me. It was not coming from my laboratory. Instead, it was coming directly from my new neighbour's home. I had stopped what I was doing, and I proceeded to investigate the matter. Once more, I had looked through the window in the laboratory and this time, what I saw was indeed a refulgent light reflecting. The question that I had pondered was what was this light or its actual source?

It was not the light coming from a mere lightbulb, nor was it coming from some form of electricity. I had calculated that it lasted for about five minutes before it disappeared abruptly. Whatever it was, it made me very pensive in my thinking. I could not see my neighbour, but I had presumed that he too had seen the flashing light in some capacity emerging. What I did not know was that he too was conducting his own experiments privately.

A week had passed since my neighbour had moved into the house beside mine, and still, I did not know much about him. He had remained discreet and aloof in his conduct towards me. I only saw a casual nod from him when interacting with him during the day.

He spoke very little and said nothing of substance to me that was indicative of his authentic persona. He came and went like any busy man, yet he had new boxes or crates delivered to his address. Every time they were delivered, I had tried to observe if I could discern what was written on them. The only thing I could see from a distance was that the bold letters written were in plain German. Thus, I had assumed the language written to be German.

A month had then passed, and I still continued to see the refulgent light transpire as it flickered steadily. It was an inexplicable event that I was under the general impression was somehow related to a type of activity that was occurring in that house.

By that time, I was able to discover that my neighbour's last name was Hoffmann, due to the fact that one of the deliverers had erroneously sent me a box that was destined for him. I thought it would be the correct thing for me to give him the box. I had knocked on his front door, and when he opened, he greeted me and thanked me when I had given him the box. I had explained to him that the box had been delivered mistakenly to my address.

'I promise you that this mistake will not happen again, Herr Von Bauer', he said.

I was surprised he knew my surname. 'How did you know my surname?'

'Are you not a physicist?' He had enquired.

'Yes, that is true', I replied.

'You are, Herr Hoffmann?'

'Yes, I am'.

'Where are you from, Herr Hoffmann?'

'I am from a far away place'.

'Are you from Germany?'

'No! I come from a place, far away, where men have not discovered yet'.

I was confounded by his unusual response and thought his secretive nature was even more representative of a hidden identity or agenda. The suspicion of him being an ex-Nazi had begun to seem more viable than before. What was this man doing in these parts of Austria, and why did he come here in the first place? If he was indeed a former Nazi, what rank was he at one time, and what crimes did he perpetuate that would cause him to seek exile in Austria?

I did not want to be boldly intrusive, and I did not ask him to elaborate. I was not a man to pry into the endeavours of others, yet so much mystery pertaining to him made it impossible not to suspect his direct link to the Nazis.

'Since the war has ended, the country is becoming a refuge for former Nazis, Herr Hoffmann'.

He looked at me with an unusual expression in his eyes and said, 'This world has much more to worry about than former Nazis, Herr Von Bauer'.

Before I had departed, I had enquired about the flashing light that I had witnessed coming from his home.

His answer was uniquely indirect, 'Light, I don’t quite know how to explain it to you. As a man of science that you are, you are aware of many unexplained phenomena'.

When I had returned to my laboratory, I could not resist the temptation to examine the feasibility of Herr Hoffman's link to science. Could it be that he truly was a Nazi scientist in hiding? If not, then why speak in such riddles and act so strangely before me? Was he a man with a criminal record that was also clandestine? What was the specific reason for so many boxes and crates being delivered to his address?

The idea of him being a scientist made more sense to me than some mad doctor of concoctions. I could not prove either one of those assumptions of mine; nonetheless, I was cognisant of the fact that within the ranks of the Nazis, there were remarkable scientists who had collaborated with their inhumane cause.

I had thought of returning to my research on atoms, but after further thought, I had concluded that Herr Hoffman was a former Nazi scientist, despite my inability to ascertain the truth. I could not distract myself from that perception, and the consequence of that reality, if proven, would be unpardonable.

My sole allegiance was to science and discovering its many wonders, yet it was unsettling that I knew very little about my neighbour. I was acquainted with the previous person who had lived in that house, and with my other neighbours that surrounded me. Herr Hoffmann was a peculiar enigma that I would eventually discover, for he was no ordinary man.

That night, my intuition told me that Herr Hoffman was working on an experiment of his own. I was forced to contemplate the type of experiment and the manner in which he conducted himself. Was his acumen more aligned with chemistry, I asked myself?

Once more, the light radiated from one of the rooms of his house. I was familiar with how light was emitted in colours on a spectrum, but how did he manage to create energy and submit it to the laws of physics? I knew that reversing the lines seen within the emission spectrum had allowed the atoms to move to higher energy orbits. If light could be shone of all colours on the atoms, what would occur afterwards is that only those specific colours corresponding to the energy permitted would cause the transitions to be absorbed. The light again had radiated, but I had decided this time not to investigate.

The next morning, Herr Hoffmann left his home and entered a vehicle that had arrived for him. Where was he going? I did not know at that time. All that was evident to me was the fact that he was leaving. That meant that he had an urgency to see something or someone. He did not return until the evening. During that duration, I had wondered where he had gone. I was curious, since he did not leave his house much. What was puzzling was that the delivery of boxes and crates had abated suddenly. This man had no caretaker or servant to handle his home.

Thus, there was nobody present during his absence. That was very strange and rare in Austria. I stepped out of my house to approach the home of Herr Hoffmann from outside, expecting to uncover a clue that was relevant in its discovery. Perhaps, it was seen as intrusion on my part; nevertheless, my basic instinct was compelling me to search for that significant clue I was seeking. I had to confirm my suspicion.

I reached the window of the room where the light was being emitted. What I saw was an empty room. There were no traces of boxes or objects encompassing the room. There was no electricity or method that could sustain the refulgent light I had been seeing for a couple of weeks.

The house was spacious in size, and it was impossible that whatever the boxes had contained was not visible to my eye. There had to be at least a genuine clue that would reveal his intentions and actions. My reaction was amazement and uncertainty—not about the lack of clues found, but the mystery about this man that had perplexed my inner thoughts gradually. I searched in the other rooms that I had access to, through the windows.

It was in one of those adjacent rooms that I found my clue. In that room, there were several crates of hydrogen, oxygen, carbon and nitrogen. The disturbing thing was that in one of those crates, I saw plutonium and uranium, the chemicals necessary to devise a nuclear bomb.

The indisputable evidence was too coincidental to be dismissed as not menacing. Why would he need plutonium and uranium? It made no rational sense to me. It was simply illogical. I left his house and returned to my own, strongly convinced that this man, who was my neighbour, was a former Nazi scientist in concealment. How could I prove this to the local authorities? Would they even believe me, without offering a shred of proof on my behalf?

After all, it was just mere speculation I could offer and nothing more. The fact that he had these chemicals, I felt, was enough to make the authorities suspicious of his possession of them. The question that I had was, was I dealing with a supposed man of power and recognition who was hiding, or was I dealing with someone who was overtly deviant in nature? I had prepared myself for either possibility.

Another week passed, and I noticed a stranger had visited Herr Hoffmann in the afternoon. I did not recognise the man, but he appeared to be an acquaintance of his in some capacity. It was the first time he had had any visitors since moving into the house next to mine. I could not perceive or observe what they were discussing at length. I could imagine that it was most likely something important they had in common.

Was this stranger visiting him also a former Nazi? The anxiety to know gnawed at me daily. From the little conversation I had with Herr Hoffmann, judging from his accent, he had sounded German, although I was not totally certain.

He never once acknowledged whether or not he was German. There was one thing I was certain of, and that was that he had studied chemistry and physics. This would be very demonstrative of his capabilities. There were still things that I could not equate to him, concerning his original background. If there was ever an elusive or evasive man to unravel, then it was this man who was my mysterious neighbour.

The stranger left his home sometime in the late afternoon. Herr Hoffmann accompanied him to his vehicle, where the man then departed. He returned inside his house, and I could only gaze at this occurrence, wondering. I left my house shortly thereafter to visit a good friend and chemist I knew. His name was Karl Meyer. I was extremely eager to speak to him at once about the ongoing activities of my neighbour. I wanted to seek his crucial advice on the matter.

Once I had arrived at his residence, I immediately informed him about the details, in particular the ones that had concerned me, the crates of plutonium and uranium. When I divulged everything I knew, he was not that convinced that this man was building some type of nuclear bomb. At first, he was sceptical about that possibility, but I also mentioned to him that Herr Hoffman was potentially a former Nazi in disguise. That was enough to convince him that he could be one. The other thing that had convinced him was that it was more probable Herr Hoffman was, as well, a scientist.

I had the same suspicion too. What use would a common man have for those chemicals? It was known that the Nazis had well-known scientists in their ranks. He had suggested I go to the authorities and reveal this information. I was not certain the authorities would acquiesce to my request. I left his residence and returned home.

That evening, I paced in my laboratory, thinking about whether or not to inform the police. It was a risk I was taking, knowing that I did not have solid proof about Herr Hoffmann. All that I knew were, at best, speculations or suspicions—not enough to warrant an arrest. But if these materials were found by the police and it was proven he was attempting to build a bomb of some sort, then that would definitely be enough to apprehend him.

I doubted no more, and went to the police headquarters, informing them personally about what I had seen and suspected. The police were not that interested in arresting him based on my suspicion, yet they were aware of the consequences if my testimony were verifiable.

They could not risk the chance of dismissing my claim so frivolously. Thus, they accompanied me to his residence. The night had already fallen when we reached the residence of Herr Hoffmann. He was presumed to be at his home, but his lights were off.

Once more, the mysterious light was flashing, and it was coming directly from the occupied room that I had seen. The two police officers who had accompanied me were reluctant to enter, but I had convinced them. We knocked on the front door, anticipating Herr Hoffmann to answer, yet there was no answer. He did not even bother to open the door or greet us. Oddly, the door was not locked at all. Was it unlocked on purpose, and was Herr Hoffmann expecting us? The police officers then made the decision to enter with me, at our mutual discretion.

Upon our uninvited entrance, we could hear the peculiar sound of what seemed like a radio, but the audio was only transmitting certain frequencies of wavelengths that were not comprehensible to our ears. It was not a voice or the sound of any music.

The door was closed but not locked, like the front door. The question was, what would be discovered when we opened it? Once we did, we were blinded by the intensity of the bright light flashing before us. The brightness lasted for a minute or so, until it disappeared. The police had seen the material of crates and boxes that I had mentioned to them back at the police headquarters, but there was no visible trace of Herr Hoffmann.

They searched all around for him inside the house, and I did not see him either. Before the police officers left, they confiscated all the chemical material they could gather. There was nothing unusual about his house, or the condition of the other rooms that were thoroughly searched. His furniture and its arrangement were intact and normal. The only thing that was abnormal were the excessive crates and boxes we had discovered.

Why so many crates and boxes? The police were not interested in my hypothesis espoused. They were only interested in the material that had been uncovered. I was left to glean, with implied difficulty, the facts that would lead to the reality of the situation. Not only was he an astute man, but he was also an intellectual man, not to be dismissed as a lunatic. The established evidence had accumulated into a psychological ponderation. Herr Hoffmann, it would seem, was one step ahead of our investigation, and we were chasing someone whose identity was unknown.

I had returned to my house, uncertain of what had occurred at the residence of Herr Hoffman, my neighbour. Where was he, if he was not present at his home? We had searched every room and not found him. Was he hiding in some door that led to a cellar or some kind of bunker?

Wherever it was, it was a masterful escape on his part. That still did not solve the pertinent question: where could he be located? Had he known about the arrival of the police? Most certainly, he would have returned to see his valuables gone. The police would request my presence at the police headquarters. My testimony would be relevant to any possible charges against him, and records would be filed. The problem was finding him. That would not be necessary, for he would appear in my laboratory afterwards.

I had been sitting in my chair, cogitating the unfolding events and what they had meant, when I was astonished to witness, in front of me, the emission of the spiralling orbits of light that were already too familiar to me. I gradually rose to my feet as I watched, fixated by my stare. In a matter of minutes, the light had materialised into the transparency of the lone figure and guise of Herr Hoffmann.

I was no longer looking at the fixture of light, but at a luminary that had transformed into a singular man. How had this happened, since it was not an ordinary occurrence? There was no logical explanation for what I had seen. It was simply out of this world.

Perhaps Herr Hoffmann was not from this world at all. Who was this man, and where did he truly come from? I had approached him, and he spoke to me, 'Herr Von Bauer, you are probably wondering in your mind, what is happening?'

'Who are you really, Herr?' I responded.

'I have told you before; I am from beyond this world, in a faraway place'.

'How far away?' I enquired.

'I am from another galaxy, a planet that is light millions of years away from Earth'.

'How did you get here?'

'It was through a black hole that I was able to reach this galaxy'.

'Then it is true, you are an alien. I had thought you were a former Nazi'.

'I am not even human in my natural composition'.

'Then what are you? Why did you need plutonium and uranium?'

'I am evolving matter. An atom from the universe that can transform into any form of matter. I needed those chemicals to work with electricity'.

'And the elements of carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and calcium? Please explain!'

'In order for me to appear human, I needed to have all of those necessary elements. They are the four elements of the human body'.

'If you are what you say you are, then that is incredible. Do you know how long I have been experimenting with atoms, hoping to decipher their mystery?'

'I know, Herr Von Bauer. You are a scientist of physics'.

'What other form, besides light, can you transform into?' I asked him.

'I can transform into the molecules of water'.

He demonstrated this by changing into the molecules of water. He then transformed into gas and back into the structure of a man. I was even more astounded by his transformations that were considered an impossibility by science. No other being in this world had ever manifested in these intricate forms of life and reality, yet I was witnessing something intrinsic to the study of science and physics that was foreign.

My mind was struggling to comprehend what was simultaneously transpiring. He was no conjured illusion but authentic. He would be considered the greatest discovery in modern science, and I would be praised for discovering him. However, I would not get my opportunity because he would vanish into thin air, and I would never see him anew. Before he disappeared, he made one last utterance to me.

'Remember that the universe is full of atoms like me, revolving and evolving in matter. I am but a small particle of life that dwells within the matrix of the vast universe'.

Whoever this man was, in earnest, alien or man in semblance, the fact that he had spoken the truth about atoms was enough to convince me that there was indeed not only life in other distant places of the universe but also that we were composed of the same atoms that were created from this universe.

As the years passed, I became more involved in the study and examination of atoms. I was interested in knowing more about them and how they could interact with chemical elements in proximity, yet deep within me, I waited anxiously for the return of Herr Hoffman.

I had begun to lose myself in my work, buried under a mountain of books and experiments that would bring little clarity to the unanswered questions that plagued me. The appearance of Herr Hoffmann had been something beyond anything I had ever imagined, but his mysterious vanishing had only deepened the mystery. Weeks passed without any further sign of his presence, though I continued my experiments. I needed answers, but more than that, I needed to understand what was happening to me. There was something about those fleeting moments when he had manifested before me that had altered something deep within me. It was as though his very presence had restructured the way my mind processed reality, leaving me with a deep sense of dissatisfaction with the boundaries of conventional science.

It was on one of those nights, during a solitary vigil at my lab, that I received a letter. It arrived in a curious envelope, made of a material I did not recognise, and the handwriting was an elegant script that seemed almost too perfect. The contents read:

'Herr Von Bauer:
You are correct to seek answers, but you have only begun to scratch the surface of the truth. What you think you know is but a fragment of the vast enigma that binds the universe together. If you wish to know more, meet me at the old observatory at midnight. Come alone.

Herr Hoffmann.

A chill ran down my spine as I read the words. My mind raced with questions—how had he found me? Why the observatory? And what did he mean by “a fragment of the truth”? It felt like an invitation to a deeper layer of the mystery, a revelation that would either shatter my understanding of the universe or elevate me to a new dimension of knowledge.

At midnight, I made my way to the observatory, my heart pounding with anticipation and fear. The building loomed dark against the night sky, its silhouette a haunting reminder of forgotten times. The telescope that had once been used to peer into the heavens now sat idle, its lenses gathering dust, but the sense of awe it once inspired still lingered in the air.

As I approached the entrance, the door creaked open before I could touch it, as though it had been waiting for me. Inside, the room was dimly lit, casting long shadows across the walls. In the centre of the room stood a figure, the outline of a man illuminated by the pale light filtering through the high windows. It was Herr Hoffman.

But something was different. This time, he did not appear as a man made of light. Instead, he was solid, his features indistinct in the gloom. He was dressed in a dark coat that seemed to shimmer, as though woven from the fabric of the night itself.

'You came,' he said, his voice both familiar and foreign. 'I knew you would. You seek knowledge, Herr Von Bauer, but do you understand the price that knowledge demands?'

'I am here Herr Hoffmann. Understand what demands?' My voice echoing in the silent observatory.

He smiled faintly. 'You seek the answers, and I can only show you the way. But be warned, the path ahead is fraught with danger. The truth is not something that can be easily comprehended, for it will challenge everything you think you know about existence itself'.

I stepped closer, my curiosity outweighing my caution. 'I’ve seen things that defy explanation. When you transformed before me, I thought I had lost my mind. How is it possible? And why have you chosen me?'

'Because, Herr Von Bauer, you are one of the few who can truly understand. You have devoted your life to the study of atoms, of the very building blocks of the universe. But the atoms you study are but a tiny part of the greater whole. The truth is hidden within the fabric of existence itself. You have been looking in the wrong place.'

I frowned, struggling to grasp his meaning. 'What do you mean? I’ve dedicated my life to understanding atoms. I thought if I could understand them, I could understand everything'.

Herr Hoffman laughed softly, his voice carrying an otherworldly resonance. 'You think the atom is the answer, but it is not. It is but a gateway. What you seek lies beyond the atom, beyond even the fabric of space and time. There are forces in the universe that govern everything, forces that defy the laws of physics as you know them'.

I felt a growing sense of dread, but also an undeniable curiosity. 'Then show me. What is it that you want me to see?'

He gestured towards the telescope. 'Look through the lens. You will see what you have been missing'.

I hesitated, but there was no turning back. I walked towards the telescope, my hand trembling as I adjusted the lens. The night sky stretched out before me, a vast expanse of stars twinkling in the darkness. But as I peered through the eyepiece, something strange began to happen. The stars blurred and shifted, moving in ways that defied all logic. The constellations rearranged themselves, forming patterns I had never seen before, and in the centre of it all, a swirling vortex appeared—a black hole, its event horizon radiating a strange energy.

'What is this?' I whispered, barely able to comprehend the sight before me.

Herr Hoffmann’s voice came from behind me. 'This is the gateway, the point where everything converges. What you are seeing is not just space, but the fabric of the universe itself—the true structure of reality. Beyond this point lies the unknown, the realm where all things begin and end'.

I struggled to pull my gaze away from the vortex, my mind overwhelmed by the implications. 'How is this possible? How can we even begin to understand something so...immense?'

'You cannot understand it all, Herr Von Bauer', he said softly. 'But you can begin to perceive it. You must look beyond the surface, beyond the atoms and molecules, and understand that there are forces at work that transcend your comprehension. It is these forces that govern the universe, not the atoms you study'.

I felt my head spin as the image in the telescope began to shift again, the vortex expanding until it consumed my entire vision. And then, with a sudden shock, everything went black.

When I awoke, I was lying on the floor of the observatory, the telescope now silent and still. The strange vision I had witnessed was gone, replaced by the cold reality of the room around me. I sat up, my mind racing to process what had just occurred. Had it been a dream? A hallucination?

But as I looked around, I saw that Herr Hoffmann was gone. There was no trace of him, as though he had never been there at all. I stood, my legs unsteady and approached the telescope once more. The sky outside was still the same, but I knew, deep down, that I had seen something that would change the course of my life forever.

In the days that followed, I became obsessed with the vision I had witnessed. The image of the black hole haunted me, and I could not escape the sense that there was something more to the universe than what I had been taught. I poured over my notes, desperate to make sense of the forces that Herr Hoffmann had hinted at, but no matter how hard I tried, I could not find the answers.

It was then that I realised the true nature of my pursuit. I was no longer searching for knowledge for the sake of science. I was searching for the truth of existence itself, the ultimate understanding of the universe. And I knew, without a doubt, that Herr Hoffmann had been right—I had only just begun to scratch the surface.

I would look out of my telescope every night, hoping to catch a momentary glimpse of his return to this galaxy. The home of Herr Hoffmann would be demolished, and a new one would be built over it in time. I never won a Nobel Prize for my work in physics, but I had at least met the evolving man of atoms, the atomic one.

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