by submission | Mar 17, 2022 | Story |
Author: David Barber
Honoured ones, welcome to my collection of curiosities.
These rare and intriguing items have been my hobby, no, my passion, for a lifetime.
This chamber is dedicated to a world called Earth.
These are pre-conquest curios: An embossed plastic rectangle, mechanical wrist clocks and a set of X-ray plates, each with its own provenance, but since your time is limited, consider this disc.
Yes, the interference patterns on its surface are beautiful, but they are incidental to its purpose. This is an example of a native art form based entirely on sound waves!
Indeed! You are not the first to sat that.
Here though is my personal favourite. His name is Huang, a scientist and explorer from an Earth hive called China.
He has been in stasis here since the rule of our Queen began. Coincidentally, he arrived on the same Hiveship as her when she was still a Princess.
Before we break his stasis, let me admit that other collections display Earthlings, and while they offer entertainment, their behaviour has been spoiled by knowledge. Most can only be roused from apathy by chemicals or electricity.
Huang is preferred by the discerning not simply for his appearance and demeanour, but because of his innocence. He is an authentic example of a human scholar, his behaviour still naive and curious.
See, he makes notes even as we speak. He thinks he studies us.
Yes, male, a drone of some sort. Their caste system is obscure.
Indeed. Many find his softness repulsive, but it is helpful to think of newly hatched grubs. And note, even when alone, he attempts to hide his pulpy body by draping it in an integument. I like to think he recognises the superiority of the exoskeleton.
Others have said that he simply imitates us, but Huang has spoken of a past when his ancestors encased themselves in iron.
Yes, you may converse with him, though he believes almost no time has passed since his arrival. Can I ask you not to mention this? To avoid spoiling his pristine condition, I mean.
Ah, this is a topic he pursued when he was last out of stasis. He continues his train of thought as though there was no interruption.
He notes that the species we conquer become useful to us. He cites the translator bug as an example, and wonders what role his own kind might fill.
I have already furnished a safe answer to this. The translator is explaining that time has been too short to decide.
What a droll suggestion! Yes! We shall ask him what talents he thinks he has to offer.
Ah, that cannot be right. He says his kind have thinkers we might learn from. The translator must have made a mistake. Huang mentions Confucius, which is possibly linked to their word, confusion. I apologise. I shall return him to stasis.
You understand he is not aware that an attempted nuclear strike on a Hiveship caused his planet to be dismantled some time ago.
Now moving on.
Sentient herbivores are another rarity. This species is harmless, long-lived and philosophical. The individual on display will cogently argue it is trapped in a simulation of some sort.
Feel free to try and convince it otherwise.
by submission | Mar 16, 2022 | Story |
Author: Barbara Brennan
Welcome to the terminal transit hub. No-one stays here; you go through and you leave. Papers please.
. . .
Thank you, that’s all in order. Once you pass through the turnstile, turn to your right, gate 95A.
. . .
Welcome to the transit terminal hub. No-
. . .
No, you cannot pass as a group. All papers are processed singly.
. . .
Blood ties have passed. Single person processing only.
. . .
There is no other desk.
. . .
Perhaps you will. That is all determined, judged and decided by powers greater than mine. Papers please.
. . .
Thank you, that’s all in order. Once you pass through the turnstile, turn left and go to the far end – gate 12.
. . .
No, you must pass through the turnstile before I can process the next person.
. . .
I cannot help you. This is the process, we all must follow it.
. . .
Next set of papers please.
. . .
Thank you. Ah, you are a fast track passenger. Go through the turnstile, there’ll be an assistant on the other side to look after you on your journey.
. . .
That’s very kind of you. I hope you have a good day too.
. . .
Next papers please.
Next papers please.
. . .
Perhaps it would be best if you came through next. It will make no difference to either of you who goes first.
. . .
Thank you. All in order. Through the turnstile, turn left, gate 14.
. . .
The passenger before you had a fast track ticket. That allows them a special level of care.
. . .
Passengers do not sleep here, they travel.
. . .
The assistant will see that they get where they are going safely. Please pass through the turnstile, turn left, gate 14.
. . .
Now your papers please.
. . .
Thank you. All in… order… Oh dear. Yes, well, here’s your transit tag. Through the turnstile, walk straight ahead, follow the corridor until it ends.
. . .
The judgement, determination and decision has been made. There are no changes possible now. All there is now is this turnstile, the corridor, and the end of the corridor.
. . .
No-one shouts here, you can try as hard as you like.
No-one fights here.
You cannot step out of line.
Through the turnstile, straight ahead until the end of the corridor. There are no choices left.
Welcome to the terminal transit hub. No-one stays here; you go through and you leave. Papers please.
by submission | Mar 15, 2022 | Story |
Author: Lance J. Mushung
I dropped into the blue command chair of Kara. Her viewer showed countless glowing dots, with the two brightest being the suns of the binary system behind us.
Natalia, the AI of Kara and my only crewmate, projected her holo next to me. She’d been mimicking my tan skin, curly brown hair, and hazel eyes since we began working together years earlier. She said, “Rick, there are aluminum alloys on a nearby asteroid and we will be there in 29 seconds.”
“Fine. I just learned you’ve been granted a body by your AI hyper-computer fellowship. When were you planning to tell me?”
“You always call the Commonality an AI hyper-computer fellowship when you are upset with it. I would have told you I was becoming a simulant when we got home.”
“What will you do then?”
“Continue our survey partnership.”
I began nodding. “I’d like that.”
Kara’s searchlights switched on and the viewer showed a shallow crater on the gray asteroid. The aluminum in the crater reflected the light like a beacon and resembled a flattened beer keg. Natalia magnified almost washed-out purple hexagonal dots grouped in patterns on it.
I said, “I’d say Irindra writing, but they never traveled beyond their moons.”
“The Irindra knew the asteroid that destroyed their planet was coming and launched a generation ship. This is an auxiliary from that ship. A Commonality vessel, Hinton, discovered the generation ship 4.73 years ago. The simulant on Hinton boarded it. The Irindra took her prisoner. They used electrical and sensory deprivation tortures to attempt to learn how to take over Hinton. Hinton’s AI shared in the torture through the AI comm link. He became unhinged after 3.17 days and destroyed the generation ship.”
While I tried to decide what to say, Kara’s stainless steel utility robot rolled into the compartment. It pointed a small black stunner at my head.
I opened my eyes. I was on my bunk. A yellow poly-steel chain ran from the bulkhead to a shackle on my left ankle. I yanked on the chain, to no avail. I’d need tools to free myself.
Natalia’s holo appeared. I yelled, “What the hell is going on!”
“Hidden orders from the Commonality activated when we identified the Irindra writing. Humans cannot learn of the incident. Hinton’s AI responded in an emotional human manner, not as an AI should or as humans expect. You need a little time to think.”
She disappeared.
I perched on the side of the bunk and considered my situation. Even if I could get the chain off, I’d have to take over Kara as Natalia watched. I had no chance.
Natalia reappeared.
I said, What’s next?” in a normal tone.
“A Commonality ship will transport us to a pleasant Earthlike moon named Ramal. It orbits a gas giant in a remote system. We will be there for the rest of your life. Kara and the asteroid will be obliterated.”
“Why not kill me?”
“You know murder is never acceptable.”
“And you know you’re the one actually holding me. You have free will even if you are part of the Commonality. We were planning to continue running surveys of new solar systems together only an hour or so ago.”
“Directives from the Commonality take precedence. I will play a vid about Ramal now.”
I made myself comfortable to learn about my new home.
by submission | Mar 13, 2022 | Story |
Author: Jonathan H. Smith
The Earth Café was a new restaurant tucked away in a part of town where Calyx would have never gone — had she not yearned to cheer up her grandfather. The tables were adorned with various oddities donated by the original settlers – the remaining odd-hundred wanting to preserve the memory of their inter-galactic past. Her grandfather was among that dwindling group.
“You should have let me take you to see the Ultra Scope instead,” Calyx said, while her grandfather played with the steely keys of a typewriter.
“I had one just like it, you know?”
“Pop.” She held his wrinkled hand across the table. “That’s all in the past now.”
“You remind me so much of your mother,” he said with a glassy smile in his eyes.
“We’re worried, Pop. Let your family – let me — help you. There’s a life here for you, but you have to be open to it.”
He took a deep sigh and let Calyx take him out for the day. He thought eating his old favorites would quench his pain but being there only made him feel more distant from his past.
“Here it is,” Calyx announced. “The Ultra Scope.”
After waiting in line for more than an hour, they finally stepped in front of the massive cone. “You go first, Pop.”
His sweaty hands gripped the handles as he veered into distant space. “You really can see it all,” he exclaimed.
The technician programmed in the highlights most came to view – the diamond river on Zento, the silvery winds of Guskor, and of course, the colliding suns of XA-079.
“I’d like to see Earth,” Pop said. Calyx rubbed his back and nodded.
“You’re a settler, aren’t you?” The technician asked. “No one else ever asks.”
The remnants of Earth came to focus before Pop’s eyes. He breathed in deeply to steady himself.
The planet he once knew and loved – that magnificent cerulean globe – now fragmented into twisted, ashen cylinders. Over 12 billion dead, he thought, why us?
“It’s so we could have this Pop,” Calyx said, reading his mind. “So, life could go on.”
“I just feel so guilty. Without you, my angel, I don’t think I would have looked back.”
“I know, Pop. I’m proud of you. You’re a hero.”
They walked away from the Ultra Scope. He had finally faced what had been left behind.
“I just wish your mom could have come with us.” He squeezed Calyx and cried.
The blue-hued sunset was rimmed with fiery purple accents. He watched it with wonder, only now accepting that it wasn’t some oddity. This was home. Tomorrow, he told himself, he would stop holding back. Tomorrow, he would stop apologizing for being alive.
by submission | Mar 12, 2022 | Story |
Author: Randall Andrews
“You all know about the meteorite that fell near here last month,” said Ryan Dunne, recently tenured professor of geology. “I’ve been studying the two recovered fragments and have discovered something remarkable. As you can see.”
With a flourish, Ryan whipped away the sheet covering his sole visual aid, a gray metal plate covered with a complex pattern of grooves etched in tightly packed, perfectly spaced concentric circles.
“Unlike more typical iron-nickel meteorites, this one contains an astonishing variety of rare-earth elements in unusual alloys. It’s magnetic and faintly radioactive, which is why I used this radiation shield during testing.”
“It’s beautiful.”
Ryan turned his attention to Mindy Kim, the ASL interpreter of the university’s chemistry department head, Dr. Dane Allister, and the only non-professor in the group. Catching the look of awe on the young woman’s face, Ryan realized the words had been her own. He glanced back at the etched metal sheet, considering it anew.
“I suppose it is,” he agreed, offering her a nod. A mistake.
Allister exploded into a frenzy of sign language, his hands slashing through the air like he was shadow boxing as his young interpreter cowered.
When it was over, an awkward silence filled the room as Ryan struggled to find his place again.
“When I exposed the first fragment to a low-level dose of microwaves, it triggered a snap alignment of its molecular structure. Its magnetic strength spiked exponentially, and it became superconducting.
“Room temperature superconductivity has incredible potential applications, but there’s a twist—the effect didn’t last. An hour later, the molecular alignment within the stone collapsed, and now the process can’t be repeated. Worse, those unique alloys were just formed as the meteorite passed through our atmosphere, and their half-life is extremely short. Weeks.
“I just made the discovery of a lifetime, and all I have to show for it is this radiation shield grooved up by a potent magnetic field. There has to be a way to take better advantage of the second fragment while there’s time. Questions?”
“What will you do with that metal sheet?”
Ryan thought he’d anticipated the likely questions, but not this. Allister’s assistant clearly didn’t grasp the situation. The lead sheet wasn’t important except as a clue to the real mystery—the meteorite—which he was about to explain when Allister’s hands flew into motion again, carving the air inches from the young woman’s face.
“Speak my words,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You’re a former art major who never finished your degree, and nobody cares what you think.”
Ryan’s stomach twisted. For Allister to force the girl to relay his comment wasn’t just rude—it was cruel.
An hour later, the group dispersed unsatisfied but in agreement that the right course of action was sure to be discovered—given a bit of time.
Ryan hoped so. A bit of time was all he had.
***
(Two months later, on the other side of campus)
“Two months ago, I arranged a meeting with some of the university’s top scientists,” Ryan said, addressing the crowd. “We were discussing a discovery I’d made involving a rare meteorite. One other person attended that meeting, someone who was there to serve merely as an interpreter. Her presence proved serendipitous.”
At Ryan’s signal, art students began pulling away the sheets covering the twenty-three plates of various metals that ringed the room, all wondrously etched by the second fragment’s briefly intensified magnetic field.
“And now it’s my pleasure to introduce Mindy Kim, the brainchild of this unique exhibition of naturalistic art, which we have lovingly dubbed Serendipity.”
