Alex Alexander's Blog - Posts Tagged "new-sci-fi-book"
Intro Chapter - 1 Gift of Prometheus
Again this isn't the final edit. Any feedback is welcomed.
***
Like most interspecies research vessels, the DeGrasse was officially known by a lengthy series of hexadecimal characters. Each of the twelve sponsoring civilizations translated the corresponding code to their own unique vernacular. Translation modules colonized throughout the brain took care of the rest. Seth often wondered if all cultures suffered from the same scientific nostalgia. Did they all name the ship after researchers of antiquity, or did they have some other societal norm? The Degrasse was one in a long line of research vessels with the same name. Miscellaneous ruminations such as this was one of the few past times during the lengthy trip. Even with the Continual Slip Stream generator pushing the ship along at ten lightyears an hour, the trip still took forty nine days to get this far out.
As with most interstellar research vessels, the DeGrasse was a series of geometric shapes surrounding a centralized hub and engine core. It was a large, and ugly, vessel. Each sponsoring civilization built its own modular habitat suited to their unique environmental needs. Though most of the twelve species cooperated at some level, a few were so inherently xenophobic that their only interaction was the exchange of raw data. The worst offenders never even set foot outside of their self-contained universe. This lack of cohesive teamwork manifested itself in a mismatch of shapes decorating the ship’s core. Balancing out the disproportional mass during spin required equal parts creativity and miraculous feats of engineering. Each attachment arm varied in length. Though mechanically sound, the Degrassse lacked symmetry. Seth was reminded of the mobile circling above his son’s magnetic crib.
Humans and Equestlians frequently worked closely together. Not only were Equestlians mankind’s first introduction to extraterrestrial life, but the species shared much of the same bio-chemistry. They could live side by side with little to no modifications needed for individuals or environment. Both species used simple cylinders housed towards the front of the research core. The location was prime real-estate for the scientific team. Being among the primary financial backers had its advantages. Of course their combined investment was always slightly surpassed by the ever present Oscians. The cylindrical shape allowed for independent rotation to create spin gravity if desired. It was not uncommon to experience interactions between the gravimetric plating and experimental data. Like all good science, independent observation was crucial. Besides, the ever industrious and suspicious humans preferred to plan for any eventuality.
Seth studied the orientation of the various, specie specific habitats with detached interest. Epithians had a cluster of three large spheres opposite and slightly back from the Terran/Equestlian enclave. Though they were among one of the more social alien species Seth dealt with, the Epithians sent only a few standard emissaries to the research core. Each sphere housed approximately seventy Epithians, but Seth could only recall interacting with about twenty different individuals. The aquatic Epithians lived in an environment primarily composed of H2O2, hydrogen peroxide. Their emissaries traveled in cohesive bubbles of liquid when roaming outside of their dormitory pods. A bioengineered organism was reared inside the liquid to generate a stable energy field and power the suspensor lift. Epithians were masters of molecular bonding technology. Equipment and tools could be freely passed through the surface membrane of the shimmering spheres with little to no residual transfer. Seth found the experience strangely disconcerting the first time he retrieved an instrument from inside an Epithian bubble. Logic dictated that the small device, and his hand for that matter, should be wet.
Changing visual filters, Seth focused on the Jorgians’ habitat. Supposedly, the mysterious species had been using the same ebony cube for a thousand cycles. Whenever a research vessel was decommissioned, the Jorgian team sent a simple message verifying that they expected to be part of the ship’s next incarnation. Conspiracy theories abounded as to where their financial backing came from. No one, not even the ubiquitous Oscians, had ever seen a Jorgian. Their only interactions were short text messages. Generally the information and data the Jorgians provided the research team did nothing more than reinforce what had already been extrapolated by others. Rarely had the species ever engaged in actual dialoguing. To Seth’s knowledge, the last official conversation was with the Oscians more than one hundred cycles ago. According to historical records it consisted of one hundred forty two sentences and ended with an unanswered question.
As the Degrasse began preparing to drop out of the Slip Stream, every scientific team began accessing their sensors. Raw data and sensor readings began streaming in through a nearby view screen. All habitats, except the Jorgians, were radiating EM emissions. Their large cube shaped extension appeared an iniquitous shade in all visual spectrums. According to every known scan, the Jorgians’ habitat was powered down with no life forms present. Seth knew he wasn’t the only member of the science team hoping that the enigmatic species would slip up and allow a glimpse of their secret. Scientists where the ultimate voyeurs after all. They spent lifetimes watching the universe unfold in the vain attempt to observe something which no one else had ever seen.
Philians were already broadcasting their readings on the ship’s general channel. As a species they seemed to lack the concept of personal boundaries or secrets. They freely exchanged information and openly communicated, but the airborne species rarely left their elongated habitat whenever any type of gravity was activated. The few Philians onboard preferred the wide open spaces of their habitat and ability to spread their iridescent wings. Seth’s first interaction with the species made him think of a technorganic butterfly with glittering nano-circuits imprinted on the wings. Philians were native to a small planet which consisted of an argon rich atmosphere and very low gravity. They felt crushed, and struggled to fly, in anything over a quarter standard gravity. Even with medical implants, their circulatory system struggled in what was considered acceptable gravity by most species. In one standard g their almost gaseous blood took on a thick, gelatinous consistency. Evolutionary biologists theorized that Philians diverged from one of the few known species native to deep space.
Seth’s momentary reverie was interrupted as the bright cobalt haze pierced the blackness of space. It was a resonance wave created as the Slip Stream’s terminus collapsed in their wake. Within a fraction of a second, the bluish hue changed shades. Imperceptible to the natural eye, Seth watched through his ocular implants as the ion drive activated casting off a slightly different bluish tint. Ambient energy pulses collided with the nebula based ion storms they were in the area to study. The grey composite hull seemed to irradiate a magenta hue as the nearby light interacted with the storms and was reflected off of the Yollarian’s crystalline habitat.
Stretching for light years in all directions, the ionic storms blew in from the edge of the galactic boundary. In children’s stories intergalactic space was a mythic realm were fantastical creatures of good and evil resided, often battling for the souls of sentients. In reality, intergalactic space was a harsh and somewhat monotonous place. It was a dead zone where molecular hydrogen would be accelerated to a high percentage of relativistic velocity. No known probe had lasted more than a third of a lightyear out.
Feeling the slight tug on his shoulder straps, Seth realized that all artificial gravity was cut. The DeGrasse was in a deceleration spiral. Within a few hours even the microgravity would make way to weightlessness. A melancholic despair gripped Seth despite the scientific readings streaming in. Accessing the ship’s internal comm system, he opened a channel to his Equestlian counterpart. “Larrelle, can you tell me why we’re out here? We’re about as far out as any vessel travels. Anything of interest is located near a Slip Gate. That’s why the gates exists.” Seth paused for an unconscious sigh and head shake. “Sorry, it’s just…I don’t know.” He closed his eyes and composed his thoughts. “My son just turned eight months old and I get called up for this mission. We lost most of our savings when IM stock plummeted a few cycles ago. I feel like we’ve been living fist in mouth since then. It’s kind of hard to turn down the fleet pay after that. I thought I could handle it, but there’s over a quarter solar cycle in travel time alone. You know the Oscians will want their money’s worth out of this flight. Forty nine days out and forty nine back. They’ll probably keep us here at least ninety-nine days. By time we get back, almost two thirds of a cycle will be gone.”
Larrelle’s canine like face appeared very sympathetic. Equestlian seemed like such a misnomer, but as with most human endeavors, the intergalactic translation was handled by the lowest bidder. “Trust me, I understand. A few cycles ago I left my mates to head out on a similar trip. One to the galactic center rather than the edge. I returned to find three new additions to my pack. Though no one will ever admit it to me, I swear the three young ones never quite bonded with me as they did with their other parents.” The androgynous species’ gender wasn’t a binary organization like humans. Equestlians required a minimum of four different genetic contributors for a viable offspring. Larrelle was from a pack of six adults. In the human sense, Larrelle was male. He had never given birth to any of the young. Though the navy made accommodations for such, the practice was often considered a career ender.
Larrelle’s face suddenly minimized within Seth’s augmented vision and was replaced by Razmudan’s. Though Oscian facial expressions were often hard to read, this one was quite obvious. The squat, four legged, two armed creatures were among the most powerful in the galactic community. Though accounting for less than one percent of Real Space citizenry, Oscians controlled a disproportional amount of wealth and power. Every industry had a few Oscians within their upper echelon. For the most part, Oscians preferred to be diversified rather than controlling one single enterprise. While every other species fought to be number one in any given endeavor, Oscians quietly claimed second place the galaxy over.
Seth knew how prejudicial it sounded, but he hated dealing with Oscians when they tried to make eye contact. Because their wide set eyes were located so far back on the side of their head, it was more like trying to make eye contact with a two dimensional profile. Besides, their rectangular pupils would be more at home on one of the dark fey creatures of intergalactic space.
“We’re here because the mission was paid for.” Tension spread through Razmudan’s goat-like snout. “We’re here following in the footsteps of…the Sagan.” The pause made Seth think that the Oscian had recited the entire string of one hundred sixty eight hexadecimal characters. “As the briefing file stated, these ion storms are not behaving in any predictable pattern. I’m sure you would care if some undetected quasar was sending enough radiation our way to sterilize the entire galaxy. Now if you two…” There was a series of nasally wheezing sounds as Razmudan used pejoratives not easily translated.
Seth was quietly taking the scolding when Larrelle spoke up. “Sir, I assume you remember that one of my ancillary duties onboard is that of morale officer. I was simply making sure Lt. Rire would not be distracted before…” Razmudan’s face instantly disappeared with a dismissive grunt. Seth knew the exchange was pyric victory. More than likely, the Oscian captain was still listening, watching, and even recording all shipboard communications. With a slight nod and smile, Seth thanked his Equestlian counterpart.
After the first few hours of scans and probes, the banality of the mission set in. At times deep space research had more in common with historical analysis than hard science. Anything worth studying had been observed, recorded, and poured over for thousands of solar cycles. The Merkann system had relics from civilizations no one even recognized and yet it drew little more than casual curiosity. Oscians alone had records of deep space phenomena spanning almost half a million cycles.
Floating near a holo-view screen in zero-g gave Seth a chance to stretch his proverbial legs. Medical implants did a good job of preventing fluid buildup in low gravity, but Seth’s legs wanted real movement. The initial readings were disappointing. A unique interplay of radiation and cosmic debris from the nebula wreaked havoc on the probes and sensors. Seth had spent the last hour reviewing logs and confirming what his colleagues suspected. As currently configured, the probes would remain useless. Whatever caused the signal disparity was creating false readings. Ion storm centers were observed jumping numerous AU’s in a fraction of a second. It seemed every team scanned for some type of wormhole to explain the anomalous data away. Except of course for the Jorgians, no one ever really knew what they were up to.
A Chiorexian face appeared in Seth’s vision. He only recalled interacting with the species three times during the entire trip. Seth had only met a Chiorexian in person once over his fourteen years of naval service. The elongated, blue skinned face spoke in a disjointed way. Similar to a terrestrial praying mantis, a Chiorexian’s mouth was located below the base of its head. “It is not a mistake. The ion storms are moving at superluminal speed.” Though a normally dispassionate race, the Chiorexian’s voice seemed embedded with fear.
Seth’s augmented vision became crowed with numerous faces and flashing icons. A frantic Epithian began exclaiming. “That’s not an ion storm.” Readings Seth didn’t fully understand were quickly filling his vision. Helpless, Seth watched in horror as a violet ion storm winked in and out of existence. Lightyears were being covered with every disappearance. From a great distance away, the scene would look like a simple, though large, ion storm covering hundreds of lightyears.
A strange alarm sounded on every available channel. It wasn’t fear that gripped Seth, but excitement. It was the same excitement that led him to become a scientist in the first place. There was a small voice deep inside which always looked for answers and explanations. He felt invigorated by the mystery being unveiled before his eyes. Seth divided his attention between trying to place the alarm and remaining fixated on a phenomenon which no one had ever recorded before.
Larrelle’s voice was loud and assertive. “Seth, for fate’s sake. Get strapped in. Emergency spin in less than thirty seconds.” The flashing alarm Seth had minimized in his vision suddenly made sense.
Quickly looking towards the nearest vacant flight couch, Seth kicked off from the nearby wall. He was less than three meters from his target when the bright blue light pieced the nearby viewing port. His ocular implants instantly dimmed to compensate from the brightness and save his vision. Emergency ion boosters located on every habitat began firing in their predetermined sequence to quickly spin up the Degrasse for standard space flight.
Searing pain accompanied the sickly snap of his tibia. Seth’s leg had landed on top of his water bottle. The small cylinder was designed to handle the high stress of acceleration. Its carbon reinforced composite held its shape. Unfortunately, Seth’s shin wasn’t intended to handle such high speed maneuvering even with his military grade implants and augmentations. Medical icons filled his vision verifying what he felt. A virtual image of a human skeletal hung in front of his eyes. A red image overlaid the broken bone. Seth’s concentration momentarily faltered as the medical implant sent morphine racing through his system. Acknowledging a red blinking priority message, he was assured a medical team would be assisting once the ship reached standard spin. Medites were racing through his blood stream to stem the worst of the damage. The microscopic machines would repair what they could and stabilize the site until the medical team could intervene.
Fighting unconsciousness stemming from the combination of pain and a narcotic induced stupor, Seth had his second biggest surprise of the day. A message came in from the Jorgian habitat. “Our mission has been accomplished.” Data which made no sense began streaming through his vision. Strange symbols not located in any known lexicon were dispersed throughout the raw data. At the same time, identical information was being broadcast through every known medium and on every known channel. Whatever the information was, the Jorgians wanted it to get out. Slip horizons were opening as Jorgian probes launched from their onyx cube.
Alex Alexander
Though he would never know it, Seth was grateful he passed out. Following the cryptic message, the black cube disengaged from the spinning Degrasse without warning. Had this been a normal spin-up procedure, the flight crew and the ship’s replicated intelligence could have compensated for the mass shift. During the emergency spin maneuver, the ship never had a chance. The large research vessel began to wobble and the support arms failed the moment it fell out of balance. Habitats broke loose and modules collided. Plumes of atmosphere jetted into space before igniting. Zero-g fires flashed into existence only to burn out a micro second later as the volatile gases were spent. The cube, however, defied the known laws of physics as it separated. There was no transfer of angular momentum as the cube simply distanced itself from the rotating catastrophe. Mathematically, it was as if the object was massless. This was exactly the type of puzzle Seth had always dreamed of unraveling.
***
Like most interspecies research vessels, the DeGrasse was officially known by a lengthy series of hexadecimal characters. Each of the twelve sponsoring civilizations translated the corresponding code to their own unique vernacular. Translation modules colonized throughout the brain took care of the rest. Seth often wondered if all cultures suffered from the same scientific nostalgia. Did they all name the ship after researchers of antiquity, or did they have some other societal norm? The Degrasse was one in a long line of research vessels with the same name. Miscellaneous ruminations such as this was one of the few past times during the lengthy trip. Even with the Continual Slip Stream generator pushing the ship along at ten lightyears an hour, the trip still took forty nine days to get this far out.
As with most interstellar research vessels, the DeGrasse was a series of geometric shapes surrounding a centralized hub and engine core. It was a large, and ugly, vessel. Each sponsoring civilization built its own modular habitat suited to their unique environmental needs. Though most of the twelve species cooperated at some level, a few were so inherently xenophobic that their only interaction was the exchange of raw data. The worst offenders never even set foot outside of their self-contained universe. This lack of cohesive teamwork manifested itself in a mismatch of shapes decorating the ship’s core. Balancing out the disproportional mass during spin required equal parts creativity and miraculous feats of engineering. Each attachment arm varied in length. Though mechanically sound, the Degrassse lacked symmetry. Seth was reminded of the mobile circling above his son’s magnetic crib.
Humans and Equestlians frequently worked closely together. Not only were Equestlians mankind’s first introduction to extraterrestrial life, but the species shared much of the same bio-chemistry. They could live side by side with little to no modifications needed for individuals or environment. Both species used simple cylinders housed towards the front of the research core. The location was prime real-estate for the scientific team. Being among the primary financial backers had its advantages. Of course their combined investment was always slightly surpassed by the ever present Oscians. The cylindrical shape allowed for independent rotation to create spin gravity if desired. It was not uncommon to experience interactions between the gravimetric plating and experimental data. Like all good science, independent observation was crucial. Besides, the ever industrious and suspicious humans preferred to plan for any eventuality.
Seth studied the orientation of the various, specie specific habitats with detached interest. Epithians had a cluster of three large spheres opposite and slightly back from the Terran/Equestlian enclave. Though they were among one of the more social alien species Seth dealt with, the Epithians sent only a few standard emissaries to the research core. Each sphere housed approximately seventy Epithians, but Seth could only recall interacting with about twenty different individuals. The aquatic Epithians lived in an environment primarily composed of H2O2, hydrogen peroxide. Their emissaries traveled in cohesive bubbles of liquid when roaming outside of their dormitory pods. A bioengineered organism was reared inside the liquid to generate a stable energy field and power the suspensor lift. Epithians were masters of molecular bonding technology. Equipment and tools could be freely passed through the surface membrane of the shimmering spheres with little to no residual transfer. Seth found the experience strangely disconcerting the first time he retrieved an instrument from inside an Epithian bubble. Logic dictated that the small device, and his hand for that matter, should be wet.
Changing visual filters, Seth focused on the Jorgians’ habitat. Supposedly, the mysterious species had been using the same ebony cube for a thousand cycles. Whenever a research vessel was decommissioned, the Jorgian team sent a simple message verifying that they expected to be part of the ship’s next incarnation. Conspiracy theories abounded as to where their financial backing came from. No one, not even the ubiquitous Oscians, had ever seen a Jorgian. Their only interactions were short text messages. Generally the information and data the Jorgians provided the research team did nothing more than reinforce what had already been extrapolated by others. Rarely had the species ever engaged in actual dialoguing. To Seth’s knowledge, the last official conversation was with the Oscians more than one hundred cycles ago. According to historical records it consisted of one hundred forty two sentences and ended with an unanswered question.
As the Degrasse began preparing to drop out of the Slip Stream, every scientific team began accessing their sensors. Raw data and sensor readings began streaming in through a nearby view screen. All habitats, except the Jorgians, were radiating EM emissions. Their large cube shaped extension appeared an iniquitous shade in all visual spectrums. According to every known scan, the Jorgians’ habitat was powered down with no life forms present. Seth knew he wasn’t the only member of the science team hoping that the enigmatic species would slip up and allow a glimpse of their secret. Scientists where the ultimate voyeurs after all. They spent lifetimes watching the universe unfold in the vain attempt to observe something which no one else had ever seen.
Philians were already broadcasting their readings on the ship’s general channel. As a species they seemed to lack the concept of personal boundaries or secrets. They freely exchanged information and openly communicated, but the airborne species rarely left their elongated habitat whenever any type of gravity was activated. The few Philians onboard preferred the wide open spaces of their habitat and ability to spread their iridescent wings. Seth’s first interaction with the species made him think of a technorganic butterfly with glittering nano-circuits imprinted on the wings. Philians were native to a small planet which consisted of an argon rich atmosphere and very low gravity. They felt crushed, and struggled to fly, in anything over a quarter standard gravity. Even with medical implants, their circulatory system struggled in what was considered acceptable gravity by most species. In one standard g their almost gaseous blood took on a thick, gelatinous consistency. Evolutionary biologists theorized that Philians diverged from one of the few known species native to deep space.
Seth’s momentary reverie was interrupted as the bright cobalt haze pierced the blackness of space. It was a resonance wave created as the Slip Stream’s terminus collapsed in their wake. Within a fraction of a second, the bluish hue changed shades. Imperceptible to the natural eye, Seth watched through his ocular implants as the ion drive activated casting off a slightly different bluish tint. Ambient energy pulses collided with the nebula based ion storms they were in the area to study. The grey composite hull seemed to irradiate a magenta hue as the nearby light interacted with the storms and was reflected off of the Yollarian’s crystalline habitat.
Stretching for light years in all directions, the ionic storms blew in from the edge of the galactic boundary. In children’s stories intergalactic space was a mythic realm were fantastical creatures of good and evil resided, often battling for the souls of sentients. In reality, intergalactic space was a harsh and somewhat monotonous place. It was a dead zone where molecular hydrogen would be accelerated to a high percentage of relativistic velocity. No known probe had lasted more than a third of a lightyear out.
Feeling the slight tug on his shoulder straps, Seth realized that all artificial gravity was cut. The DeGrasse was in a deceleration spiral. Within a few hours even the microgravity would make way to weightlessness. A melancholic despair gripped Seth despite the scientific readings streaming in. Accessing the ship’s internal comm system, he opened a channel to his Equestlian counterpart. “Larrelle, can you tell me why we’re out here? We’re about as far out as any vessel travels. Anything of interest is located near a Slip Gate. That’s why the gates exists.” Seth paused for an unconscious sigh and head shake. “Sorry, it’s just…I don’t know.” He closed his eyes and composed his thoughts. “My son just turned eight months old and I get called up for this mission. We lost most of our savings when IM stock plummeted a few cycles ago. I feel like we’ve been living fist in mouth since then. It’s kind of hard to turn down the fleet pay after that. I thought I could handle it, but there’s over a quarter solar cycle in travel time alone. You know the Oscians will want their money’s worth out of this flight. Forty nine days out and forty nine back. They’ll probably keep us here at least ninety-nine days. By time we get back, almost two thirds of a cycle will be gone.”
Larrelle’s canine like face appeared very sympathetic. Equestlian seemed like such a misnomer, but as with most human endeavors, the intergalactic translation was handled by the lowest bidder. “Trust me, I understand. A few cycles ago I left my mates to head out on a similar trip. One to the galactic center rather than the edge. I returned to find three new additions to my pack. Though no one will ever admit it to me, I swear the three young ones never quite bonded with me as they did with their other parents.” The androgynous species’ gender wasn’t a binary organization like humans. Equestlians required a minimum of four different genetic contributors for a viable offspring. Larrelle was from a pack of six adults. In the human sense, Larrelle was male. He had never given birth to any of the young. Though the navy made accommodations for such, the practice was often considered a career ender.
Larrelle’s face suddenly minimized within Seth’s augmented vision and was replaced by Razmudan’s. Though Oscian facial expressions were often hard to read, this one was quite obvious. The squat, four legged, two armed creatures were among the most powerful in the galactic community. Though accounting for less than one percent of Real Space citizenry, Oscians controlled a disproportional amount of wealth and power. Every industry had a few Oscians within their upper echelon. For the most part, Oscians preferred to be diversified rather than controlling one single enterprise. While every other species fought to be number one in any given endeavor, Oscians quietly claimed second place the galaxy over.
Seth knew how prejudicial it sounded, but he hated dealing with Oscians when they tried to make eye contact. Because their wide set eyes were located so far back on the side of their head, it was more like trying to make eye contact with a two dimensional profile. Besides, their rectangular pupils would be more at home on one of the dark fey creatures of intergalactic space.
“We’re here because the mission was paid for.” Tension spread through Razmudan’s goat-like snout. “We’re here following in the footsteps of…the Sagan.” The pause made Seth think that the Oscian had recited the entire string of one hundred sixty eight hexadecimal characters. “As the briefing file stated, these ion storms are not behaving in any predictable pattern. I’m sure you would care if some undetected quasar was sending enough radiation our way to sterilize the entire galaxy. Now if you two…” There was a series of nasally wheezing sounds as Razmudan used pejoratives not easily translated.
Seth was quietly taking the scolding when Larrelle spoke up. “Sir, I assume you remember that one of my ancillary duties onboard is that of morale officer. I was simply making sure Lt. Rire would not be distracted before…” Razmudan’s face instantly disappeared with a dismissive grunt. Seth knew the exchange was pyric victory. More than likely, the Oscian captain was still listening, watching, and even recording all shipboard communications. With a slight nod and smile, Seth thanked his Equestlian counterpart.
After the first few hours of scans and probes, the banality of the mission set in. At times deep space research had more in common with historical analysis than hard science. Anything worth studying had been observed, recorded, and poured over for thousands of solar cycles. The Merkann system had relics from civilizations no one even recognized and yet it drew little more than casual curiosity. Oscians alone had records of deep space phenomena spanning almost half a million cycles.
Floating near a holo-view screen in zero-g gave Seth a chance to stretch his proverbial legs. Medical implants did a good job of preventing fluid buildup in low gravity, but Seth’s legs wanted real movement. The initial readings were disappointing. A unique interplay of radiation and cosmic debris from the nebula wreaked havoc on the probes and sensors. Seth had spent the last hour reviewing logs and confirming what his colleagues suspected. As currently configured, the probes would remain useless. Whatever caused the signal disparity was creating false readings. Ion storm centers were observed jumping numerous AU’s in a fraction of a second. It seemed every team scanned for some type of wormhole to explain the anomalous data away. Except of course for the Jorgians, no one ever really knew what they were up to.
A Chiorexian face appeared in Seth’s vision. He only recalled interacting with the species three times during the entire trip. Seth had only met a Chiorexian in person once over his fourteen years of naval service. The elongated, blue skinned face spoke in a disjointed way. Similar to a terrestrial praying mantis, a Chiorexian’s mouth was located below the base of its head. “It is not a mistake. The ion storms are moving at superluminal speed.” Though a normally dispassionate race, the Chiorexian’s voice seemed embedded with fear.
Seth’s augmented vision became crowed with numerous faces and flashing icons. A frantic Epithian began exclaiming. “That’s not an ion storm.” Readings Seth didn’t fully understand were quickly filling his vision. Helpless, Seth watched in horror as a violet ion storm winked in and out of existence. Lightyears were being covered with every disappearance. From a great distance away, the scene would look like a simple, though large, ion storm covering hundreds of lightyears.
A strange alarm sounded on every available channel. It wasn’t fear that gripped Seth, but excitement. It was the same excitement that led him to become a scientist in the first place. There was a small voice deep inside which always looked for answers and explanations. He felt invigorated by the mystery being unveiled before his eyes. Seth divided his attention between trying to place the alarm and remaining fixated on a phenomenon which no one had ever recorded before.
Larrelle’s voice was loud and assertive. “Seth, for fate’s sake. Get strapped in. Emergency spin in less than thirty seconds.” The flashing alarm Seth had minimized in his vision suddenly made sense.
Quickly looking towards the nearest vacant flight couch, Seth kicked off from the nearby wall. He was less than three meters from his target when the bright blue light pieced the nearby viewing port. His ocular implants instantly dimmed to compensate from the brightness and save his vision. Emergency ion boosters located on every habitat began firing in their predetermined sequence to quickly spin up the Degrasse for standard space flight.
Searing pain accompanied the sickly snap of his tibia. Seth’s leg had landed on top of his water bottle. The small cylinder was designed to handle the high stress of acceleration. Its carbon reinforced composite held its shape. Unfortunately, Seth’s shin wasn’t intended to handle such high speed maneuvering even with his military grade implants and augmentations. Medical icons filled his vision verifying what he felt. A virtual image of a human skeletal hung in front of his eyes. A red image overlaid the broken bone. Seth’s concentration momentarily faltered as the medical implant sent morphine racing through his system. Acknowledging a red blinking priority message, he was assured a medical team would be assisting once the ship reached standard spin. Medites were racing through his blood stream to stem the worst of the damage. The microscopic machines would repair what they could and stabilize the site until the medical team could intervene.
Fighting unconsciousness stemming from the combination of pain and a narcotic induced stupor, Seth had his second biggest surprise of the day. A message came in from the Jorgian habitat. “Our mission has been accomplished.” Data which made no sense began streaming through his vision. Strange symbols not located in any known lexicon were dispersed throughout the raw data. At the same time, identical information was being broadcast through every known medium and on every known channel. Whatever the information was, the Jorgians wanted it to get out. Slip horizons were opening as Jorgian probes launched from their onyx cube.
Alex Alexander
Though he would never know it, Seth was grateful he passed out. Following the cryptic message, the black cube disengaged from the spinning Degrasse without warning. Had this been a normal spin-up procedure, the flight crew and the ship’s replicated intelligence could have compensated for the mass shift. During the emergency spin maneuver, the ship never had a chance. The large research vessel began to wobble and the support arms failed the moment it fell out of balance. Habitats broke loose and modules collided. Plumes of atmosphere jetted into space before igniting. Zero-g fires flashed into existence only to burn out a micro second later as the volatile gases were spent. The cube, however, defied the known laws of physics as it separated. There was no transfer of angular momentum as the cube simply distanced itself from the rotating catastrophe. Mathematically, it was as if the object was massless. This was exactly the type of puzzle Seth had always dreamed of unraveling.
