999 OCTILLION SOULS, May 23, 2024
I FLIGHT
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TRANSLATOR'S NOTE:The following information is derived from Information Seed 40 and received by the Gravitational Wave Observatory. I and AI performed a frequency analysis on it. IE edited certain parts to make them more 'readable'. (He might have overdone it.) Please feel free to comment.18
The rhythmic whine of the pod in Ore Seeker thrummed through Legume's skull, a monotonous counterpoint to the pounding of her heart. They'd been cramped inside for what felt like an eternity. Hunger gnawed at her stomach. The stale recycled air made her throat feel raw. But the most terrifying prospect wasn't the physical discomfort; it was the possibility of discovery.
Suddenly, a bone-jarring jolt ripped through the pod. Legume gasped, clutching Charlotte tighter. The whine of the pod sputtered and died, replaced by an alarming silence. Panic clawed at Legume's throat. Were they adrift? Had they been detected?
A rhythmic clang echoed through the metal hull of the ship they were nestled within. It was followed by a series of metallic thumps, growing louder. Legume envisioned hulking Wugum figures stomping towards them, their guttural roars echoing in her mind.
Tears pricked at Legume's eyes. Had their gamble failed? She glanced down at Charlotte, whose large round eyes mirrored her growing fear. Taking a shaky breath, Legume forced a smile.
"It's ‘K, li’l C," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Will be ‘K, beh." But the words rang hollow in the silence.
Then, a loud metallic screech pierced the air. Legume flinched, burying her face in Charlotte's softness. A harsh voice, a cacophony of clicks and whistles, filled the pod. Legume didn't understand the words, but the tone sent shivers down her spine.
A blinding light flooded the pod as the hatch hissed open. Legume squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the worst. But a soft, curious chirp reached her ears instead of rough hands. Tentatively, Legume opened her eyes.
doc_T: round and large eyes to see better in the dark space stations
There, bathed in the harsh light, stood a small, gremlin-like creature. Its wrinkled face held a mix of surprise and something… almost amusement? It tilted its head, clicking its mandibles again.
us_gwo: f*ckin gremlins? what happened to the werewolves?
translator: patience, please
Legume's mind reeled. Was this a Wugum child or a pet? It didn't seem so menacing. Before she could react, a deep, guttural voice boomed from behind the creature. Legume closed her eyes again, defeated. This was it. This was the end.
luo_ji: straight out of the airlock with them
19
LATE 2060s, EARTH
In the late 2060s, gigayears before the Great Galactic War, the staff of an Icelandic hotel forced Frank and Ernest to sleep in the same room. The sterile white of the hotel room ceiling swam into focus, the harsh May dawn at this high latitude painting the window slats a depressing grey. Frank Big groaned, the Icelandic double bed far too small for his lanky frame. Beside him, Ernest Kawamoto stirred, a guttural sound escaping his lips. They were an unlikely pair – Frank, all Texan drawl and Stetson swagger, and Ernest, with his quiet intensity and perpetually furrowed brow. Yet, their differences had forged a bond as strong as steel, propelling them from ambitious college students to the dizzying heights of the billionaire stratosphere.
ru_mikhail: Stetson?
IE: Stetson cowboy hat
cosmos_boss: Woah, billionaires!
hatmaker_H: it’s personal, boss
Today, that stratosphere felt a whole lot thinner.
“Bad news, guys,” the Computer said, manifesting as a holographic Bugs Bunny. “Something happened to your precious.”
One look at the hologram and Frank’s blood ran cold. SolSat I, their pride and joy, the physical embodiment of their green energy vision, was in trouble. But what? A hostile attack was out of question with the utility fog (nanobots) of the Computer and St. Trillian, the bodiless high-dimensional being who used to be a regular human, guarding Earth and most of the Solar System. They ensured world peace, their brand of equality, security, and more.
gwo_fr_5: space terrorists
cap_mal: terrorists able to launch rockets. that would be the first time
Dread pooled in Frank's gut. SolSat I wasn't just a satellite, it was their legacy. Years of backbreaking work, sleepless nights, and countless setbacks had culminated in that marvel orbiting Earth, beaming clean energy to millions. Most of the work done even before St. Trillian Ascended. More than a business venture; it was a beacon of hope.
cosmos_boss: you got that right
"Ernest," Frank said, his voice thick with sleep and worry.
Ernest, already halfway through his morning stretches, grunted in acknowledgment.
Looking good, Frank thought and almost smiled.
"SolSat," Frank said.
Ernest froze, his dark eyes meeting Frank's in the pale light. The shared look spoke volumes – the years of sweat and sacrifice hung heavy in the air.
"We need to get to the comms center," Ernest said.
The sterile hotel room suddenly felt like a gilded cage. They threw on clothes, the usual morning banter replaced by a tense silence. Downstairs, the breakfast buffet, full of enticing smells, was a blur of eggs and toast shoved down their throats. Every second felt like an eternity.
otavio_br: don’t they have chicken sandwiches in Iceland?
uk_gwo5: or pancakes?
The two billionaires hopped into a self-driving air car, a red four-seater Ferrari. The Computer projected popular holographic cartoon characters all over the place below the aircraft. When they reached the hotel's high-tech communication center, a team of SolSat engineers, roused from their sleep, were already gathered around a holographic display. The once-gleaming form of SolSat I flickered on the screen, marred by a dark splotch. Frank felt a surge of nausea. It was a wound, a violation.
The lead engineer, a young woman, resembling Frank’s rich wife when she was younger, with worry etched on her face, filled them in. Anomalies in the power grid, a sudden failure… the details were sketchy, the situation fluid. Maybe micrometeorites. One thing was clear – their dream was hanging by a thread.
builder_7: a rich wife and probably rich parents
cosmos_boss: what do you mean by that?
builder_7: nothing. nothing at all
As they huddled around the display, the enormity of the situation crashed down on Frank. They weren't just billionaires anymore. Today, they were the guardians of a dream. The fate of SolSat I, and the future of clean energy, rested on their shoulders.