by submission | Mar 18, 2022 | Story |
Author: Trevor Lancon
A distant star ejects billions of heavy ions every second, bestowing them all with its message: “I’m here.”
One of the heavy ions skirts past a nearby planet. The beings on that planet would describe the ion as iron if they spoke your language. They could explain, using a system of mathematics born from the need to describe the physical world – much like your own – that according to them, the iron was created minutes ago, but according to the iron, it was created seconds ago. It’s irrelevant to the iron.
The iron sees many of its siblings disappear into the pull of the planet in a dazzling plethora of greens and purples swirling about its poles. The iron’s trajectory takes it beyond.
For thousands of years the iron continues its journey through the void uninterrupted, its message part of the energy it contains. Its remaining siblings have radiated outward over time. Eventually it’s hurtling alone through the emptiness.
Then there’s something up ahead.
The iron can’t aim, but that something is in its way. It passes through glass. Air. Plexiglass. Air again.
An eye.
In that liquid sea of atoms thousands of years from its celestial home the iron meets its destination, a single oxygen atom, and it’s destroyed as it gives the oxygen its message: “It’s there.”
The oxygen dispatches part of itself to hurtle through the eye. Along the way it’s telling every electron it can: “It’s there!”
The electrons are excited by the message, by the potential it contains, and they’re repeating it quickly, in all directions into the eye: “It’s there! It’s there!”
The message multiplies.
Their excitement glows blue.
The glow propagates through the eye and reflects off the boundaries of that small world. Part of the boundary is an optic nerve. It sees the message: “It’s there.”
The nerve passes the message along itself in a string of firing synapses, the sodium and calcium carrying the glow’s message up a chain of others like it: “It’s there!”
Finally, the message arrives at its destination, a gray, wet mass of organized atoms whose whole is more massive and complex and incomprehensible than should be possible. It’s found a brain.
Sentience.
At last, the message can be understood. It expends itself and winks out:
“It’s there.”
***
The astronaut looks up from the gauges in the cockpit, satisfied with their trajectory. He takes in the view of Earth in all her colorful glory. Almost home. A flash to his left breaks him from his reverie.
“Edwin, did you see that?”
“See what?”
“A flash,” he answers. “It was there.” And he points.
Edwin looks where the astronaut points. “Nope, sure didn’t.”
“Strange.” Then he checks his gauges again.
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.
