The following morning, I had two basic options. I could either kick my heels idly and mope around The Broch until the AIs had worked out the tau-muon detection problem, or I get out there and do something vaguely worthwhile. It was all a bit of a non-question, actually. Besides, this situation gave me a plausible excuse to take out the ExoSuit again. I discovered that I was rapidly developing an enthusiastic attachment to this vehicle. Shortly before I left The Broch, I dragged all three AIs down to the hangar bay for an official christening of all four ExoSuits.
Gawain was mine. Guinevere was JUNO's. Galahad was assigned to IANTO, and Percival to DIGBY. Since they were the most effective combat-capable vehicles currently at our disposal, it seemed only right and proper to name them after central characters in Arthurian legends. The fact that ExoSuits closely resembled suits of mediaeval plate armour was entirely coincidental.
Of course, I could have taken the boring route and named them 'ExoSuit One' through 'ExoSuit Four', but where's the fun in that?
My first port of call was the wrecked Lifepod. Pod Seven.
The very fact that the pod was submerged and partially destroyed should have been sufficient reason to pass it by, although I felt it necessary to examine at least one Lifepod for any signs of irregularity. I was full expecting heavy blast damage to be the norm here, although it wouldn't be entirely out of the question to find relatively intact pods on the bottom as well. Pod Seven had suffered a massive internal explosion, most likely originating in its bank of PermaCells. The side emergency access panel had blown out completely, taking the buoyancy chambers with it. Small wonder that pod went straight to the bottom.
There was nothing more to be learned here. I headed east, aiming for the unexplored region just off Aurora's port bow. To pass the time, I activated the suit's audio entertainment system. Ironically, the first random track that it played was a little something from Blue Oyster Cult...
'Don't Fear The Reaper'.
In a way, that song was particularly appropriate. I had come a very long way from being a lone defenceless swimmer, dropped practically empty-handed into a pitiless alien ocean. What I had now still fell considerably short of an absolute mastery of my environment, although I have reached a stage where there were very few things remaining on this planet that I truly feared. Surprisingly, it always came back down to Crawlers, Biters, Crashes and Bleeders. Now that I had the ExoSuit, even these tiny demons of the mind might eventually fade into insignificance, although I sincerely doubted it. You can't live inside an armoured shell forever.
This was the paradox of armour. If you felt truly safe only as long as you remained inside it, there was no way that an armoured vehicle would be considered an entirely effective defence measure. In my case, I could safely leave the ExoSuit while it was underwater, secure in the knowledge that if needs be, one of the AIs would instantly take control of the ExoSuit and use it to defend me. Naturally, there were areas on this planet where extreme environmental conditions made it an instantly fatal proposition to leave the ExoSuit. It was the certainty of knowing that I'd soon have to venture into these areas that concerned me the most right now.
When it comes to designing weird life forms, Manannán wins hands-down. This new biome was sparsely vegetated for the most part, although the dominant species of flora in this area was well represented. Perfectly spherical purple bushes, as far as the eye could see. Some were tiny, not much larger than a basketball, while others grew to at least 10 metres in diameter. In spite of their densely-packed appearance, these growths were actually quite soft. Bright blue photophores were dotted over the upper section, giving off a pleasant blue bio-luminescent light. The plant was supported by a dense, twisted skein of slim roots, forming a stubby but secure foundation in the seafloor's bare rock.
"What's the analysis on this one, JUNO?"
"Communal plant specimen, Captain. No stinging cells or toxic exudates detected on external structure. Completely harmless. No other resident life forms are detected within the central structure. This plant has significant nutritional and hydration value. Samples may be collected for cultivation as a potential food source."
The growth reminded me of those squishy rubber filament balls. More a tactile toy than an actual ball you might use in a regular game, but they were curiously interesting to handle. Koosh Balls, I think they were called. Haven't seen one of those in a donkey's age, although I assume that they're still available back on Terra. This plant had the same sort of visual 'tactile' appeal. It practically invited you to bounce around on its upper surface.
"Designate new flora species as 'Koosh Bush', JUNO."
I continued to explore the area, dropping into one of the narrow side canyons that threaded through the outer edges of this region. One hundred and forty metres down at this point. There was an abundance of smaller fish here, all of the usual deep reef species were present. I thought that I saw a couple of Shuttlebugs some distance ahead, and homed in on them. Shuttlebugs are harmless scavengers that pose no threat to an unprotected diver. However, these creatures had a tendency to hang around cave openings, marking them as reliable indicators that a cave system was somewhere close nearby.
I was mistaken. Those creatures weren't Shuttlebugs. They were closer to actual fish in their overall appearance, although there was that unmistakable alien look about them. These fish have four large petal-like fins and two smaller lobes that are usually held flat against their bodies as they swim around. I watched two of these fish meet head-on, and something unusual happened. Both fish deployed their fins in a cruciform shape, circled each other face to face for a minute or so and then swam away. To my untrained eye, it looked like some sort of territorial threat display or quite possibly, a courtship ritual. I decided to watch these creatures for a while longer, if only to get a clearer idea of how they fit into the ecosystem down here.
One swam close to Gawain's observation port. It must have noticed me sitting behind the plex, because it responded with that same threat display. I was able to get an excellent view of one now. I'm not certain whether it was some trick of the light on iridescent scales or chromatophore cells in the skin of the creature, but I noticed a complex, rippling pattern begin to play over the surface of its extended fins. The patterns shifted and swirled enticingly, never once repeating themselves. It was utterly fascinating to watch. I could cheerfully do this for hours.
Suddenly, the creature opened its jaws wide and lunged forward.
Startled, I flinched away as it smacked against the port.
If I didn't know better, I'd swear that nasty little rutter was putting the 'fluence on me just before it attacked. Bloody typical. If I could have just one reasonable wish granted on this planet, I wish that I could encounter at least one new life form that doesn't want to eat my face. Seriously. It's not too much to ask.
New biome, and a whole new ballgame. I conjured that last unpleasant surprise was more than enough incentive to stop treating this trip as another casual stroll. High time to adopt a more businesslike posture, I think. I stood up, and the pilot's seat automatically retracted into the rear of the cabin. Interface cables snaked out of their housings and connected smoothly with my dive suit. I felt the ExoSuit's haptic feedback system kick in reassuringly. The next thing that jumps out at me will get a hydraulically-assisted bunch of fives in the face. Johnny Appleseed has left the building.
No more Mister Nice Guy.
I found one of our missing recon camera drones. Or rather, what was left of it. It wasn't a pretty sight. It looked like a thoroughly mangled wad of chewing gum. Titanium chewing gum, at that.
"Any large lifesigns in the area, JUNO?" I asked wearily. I already knew what the answer would be.
"Affirmative. Detecting powerful EM transients in the same location. Distance to first contact at 025 degrees, 80 metres. Target speed, five knots. Please proceed with extreme caution, Captain."
Our new beasties were some kind of segmented eel-like creature. Their size varied between six and eight metres, with numerous blunt bioluminescent-tipped appendages protruding from their bodies. I counted eight body segments on each, not including the head and tail. These segments rotated slowly from side to side as the creatures swam, seemingly independent of each other. However, this was not their most striking feature.
Each creature was a living Jacob's Ladder. Their bodies rippled with powerful electrical arc discharges, passing slowly from head to tail as they swam. I shook my head in disbelief. There was no known creature in creation that could constantly discharge that much visible voltage. Their nutritional requirements must be tremendous.
"JUNO, what's the read on these characters? You might want to bring IANTO and DIGBY in on this, too. I'm completely stumped for an explanation. There's no possible way that this species could sustain those discharges. Even the electric eels and torpedo rays of Terra run out of juice eventually. These things are throwing off lightning like decorator accents in Frankenstein's laboratory!"
JUNO answered. "Peak discharge voltage, 30,000 volts at 120 amperes. Their bio-electric field is generated by previously observed internal chemical reactions and capacitance effects. Unable to provide a more detailed internal scan of the target organisms, owing to high levels of broad-spectrum EM interference."
IANTO added, "It is most likely that the creature creates ionization pathways between those four organic electrodes on each body segment. This could be accomplished by using a modulated secondary voltage, presumably generated by the twisting motion of its body. This might explain the presence of visible arcs where none should actually exist. A most impressive discovery, Captain."
After completing my sweep of the Koosh Zone, I headed over to the Aurora monument. I had planned to do some more work on the frieze today, just to kick the project along a little. Although I found this task both enjoyable and immensely relaxing, it wasn't entirely without its challenges. The main brief was to convey as much information as possible, in a clear and totally unambiguous fashion. The image of Aurora entering the Alpha Hydrae system gave me particular grief for a while. I wanted to show that the warp particle discharge was an accident, preferably without making it look as if Aurora had deliberately opened fire on the planet. In the end, I settled for the image of a large ocean wave emanating from the ship's bow. I hoped that would be sufficient.
As I neared the monument, I felt a very strange sensation. It was almost as if my brain itched.
I activated the ExoSuit's camouflage field. As I approached, the sensation intensified.
"JUNO, I'm experiencing something pretty weird here. It's similar to what I felt last time. Can you detect anything unusual in the area? Radiation, life forms, EM sources, et cetera?"
"Negative, Captain. However, I am aware that you are currently experiencing a number of highly unusual physiological effects. Elevated stress hormone levels detected. Increased brain activity in frontal cortex and limbic lobe. Spontaneous onset of symptoms congruent with a minor episode of peripheral motor ataxia. Although these conditions are still within acceptable thresholds, I strongly recommend that you leave this area immediately, Captain."
I shook my head, trying to pull myself together.
"No. I'm going in. There's definitely something here, and I have to find out what it is. In case things do suddenly go pear-shaped, get ready to grab hold of Gawain and bug out."
"Affirmative, Captain."
I could see the base of the obelisk quite clearly now. Keeping low, I followed the contours of the basalt outcrop until I was directly in line with the front wall of the monument's plinth. The ExoSuit rose slowly under the thrusters' lowest power setting. Twenty metres. Ten Metres.
Warpers.
Two of them. The ExoSuit hung silent, suspended in mid-water. They appeared to be intently examining the inscriptions on the plinth. I activated the external camera, hoping to capture something that would provide a deeper insight into the nature of these mysterious creatures. The Warpers appeared to be communicating with each other, using a mix of elegant gestures, shifting patterns and subtle colour changes on their translucent mantles. Surprisingly similar to cephalopods back on Terra, in fact.
This could create some difficulties, communications-wise.
I might be able to put on a simple pantomime to get my side of the story across, but there was no way that I could use that pattern and colour shifting trick in a conversation. It was impossible to decipher, even with JUNO's help.
Even the gestures were highly problematic. Without proper context, I might find myself unwittingly throwing 'Yo Mama' insults at a potentially friendly alien species.
That would definitely end well.
Telepathy, perhaps? It would explain the odd sensation he's having in his head. And I imagine the Warpers are drawing their own conclusions from the pictures on the monument. Maybe they'll draw Selkirk pictures of their own and they can communicate that way.
I'm willing to bet that the warpers have some sort of standardized telepathy-language as well as physical communication methods, at least in this story (that's not a suggestion - I'm one of those weirdos who likes to see the writer's imagination at work).
GalacaticSurvivorNY, United StatesJoin Date: 2016-02-12Member: 212919Members
The good news and the bad news. Good news: We seem to be reaching an epic finale. Bad news: We seem to be reaching a finale. Someone please reassure me that this series will go on forever and ever, and the happiness will never end.
Suddenly, both Warpers whirled around. They were now staring directly at me.
What happened next was indescribable.
Looking back on it, I can only describe the sensation as having a CO2 fire extinguisher emptied into my face, followed by a crippling blast of RF static pumped directly into my brain.
It was utterly horrific. I never want to experience that sensation again.
I sagged helplessly in the pilot's suspension harness, clawing blindly for the helmet's release mechanism. For some reason, my hands wouldn't work properly. Somehow, I found the latch and pulled it hard, clumsily dragging the helmet clear of my head. It fell away and clattered to the floor of the cabin. I vomited violently, spraying what remained of breakfast and lunch over the instrument cluster. Its rank, cheesy odour triggered another painful wave of retching, followed by another. Finally and mercifully, there was nothing left to bring up. I felt completely wrung out.
"Captain! What's happening?" JUNO cried. "Are you being attacked?"
I couldn't answer. There was little else I could do but hang limply in the harness, breathing heavily. The thunderous white noise in my head had began to subside a little, and I could feel my scattered wits gradually beginning to sort themselves out.
"I... Don't think so. Give me a minute." I said raggedly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "I think I've been rumbled. They definitely know that I'm out here."
Thankfully, the helmet had rolled away into a clean corner of the cabin. Shakily, I reached out and deactivated the ExoSuit's holographic camouflage. The Warpers tensed, raising their needle-sharp forelimbs in a clearly menacing gesture. I uncoupled myself from the haptic control rig and stooped down awkwardly to retrieve my diving helmet. After several botched attempts, I managed to engage the collar seals and snapped the retaining clamp shut. My hands lacked strength and still trembled faintly. Whatever they had hit me with, my body definitely couldn't handle a second dose.
"Looks like I've got some serious explaining to do." I said simply.
"Do you really intend to exit this vehicle, Captain?" JUNO asked worriedly. "Under these circumstances, I strongly advise against it. Please reconsider your current course of action."
"From where I'm standing, it looks like there's no other way, JUNO." I said calmly. "Stand by in overwatch mode. Weapons free, defensive action only. Minimal force. Remember, these chaps have ridiculously fragile bodies."
"Are you absolutely certain about this, Captain?"
"Not even remotely, JUNO." I chuckled half-heartedly. "Still, I feel it's the only chance we'll get to put a proper lid on this situation. Might as well meet our neighbours halfway, at the very least."
I flooded the cabin and exited the hatch, completely unarmed.
My first action was to raise my right hand slowly and deliberately in salutation.
I swam towards them carefully and stopped barely two metres in front of the pair. Well within their striking distance. I pointed directly at the inscriptions and then pointed at myself. No response.
Another short burst of static spiked in my head. It wasn't quite strong enough to disorientate me, although I felt a brief surge of nausea welling up inside. Although I still couldn't determine what emotions (if any) these bursts conveyed, it seemed somehow less... Insistent. Definitely far less aggressive, at any rate.
I think I might have figured out what's happening here. Warpers are essentially telepathic, although their preferred mode of communication does involve an intricate series of forelimb gestures, shifting mantle patterns and colour changes. Those brain bursts I was experiencing apparently served as a sort of 'vocal' component. As far as was I able to determine, my arrival here may have caught them entirely by surprise.
As for the bursts themselves, the only comparison that I can draw is that it's like trying to drink from a fire hose. I simply lack the mental capacity to keep pace with their data transfer rate. At this point, it doesn't even matter what information they're actually trying to convey. It could be subtle emotional modifiers to their mantle patterns, discrete speech elements of an alien language, or they might even be laughing at the weird-looking thing floating in front of them. I had absolutely no way of comprehending any of the information that might be contained in those bursts.
It could be equally as strange when experienced from a Warper's point of view. Assuming that they were indeed able to intercept my thoughts psionically, I imagined how frustrating this awkward not-quite 'conversation' would be to them. It would be like trying to identify a unfamiliar piece of music played on an old-fashioned magnetic tape, running at one centimetre per week. My only real hope was to slow the chat down until some sort of basic mutual understanding could be reached. My frieze was still only partially complete, so it wouldn't be quite as useful as I had first hoped. However, the side facing Aurora was completely blank.
It could serve as our 'Talking Wall'.
I searched around the base of the plinth, looking for something to draw with. A discarded fist-sized chunk of gold was the first thing that came to hand. I would have preferred a Stalker tooth, although it might be seen as a potential weapon in this situation. The gold would simply have to do for now. It was awkwardly shaped, although I managed to coax a reasonable representation of myself out of it onto the nanocrete wall. The Warpers watched intently as I drew, their expressions utterly unreadable. Next, I drew the pair of Warpers. After completing the image, I swam to one side and let them see what I had drawn. I pointed to my picture and planted my hand firmly on my chest. This is me.
I pointed at the picture of the Warpers and then pointed directly at them. This is you.
This simple action elicited a most curious response. Both Warpers rapidly flashed patterns across their mantles, making a series of short, rapid scissoring actions with their upper limbs. They were clearly excited by what they saw. Another micro-burst smacked into my head. Ouch.
Ah. I think we might be making some headway at last. Excellent.
This gets me thinking about what we as a species would do if we ever encountered sapient extraterrestrial life. We keep talking about finding and meeting up with them, but how would we actually get our messages across to them? Would we (Or they) even be capable of comprehending the thoughts and emotions they're trying to communicate? It's not like on Earth where raising your hand in greeting is a universally understood gesture, even if you don't speak the same language.
This gets me thinking about what we as a species would do if we ever encountered sapient extraterrestrial life. We keep talking about finding and meeting up with them, but how would we actually get our messages across to them? Would we (Or they) even be capable of comprehending the thoughts and emotions they're trying to communicate? It's not like on Earth where raising your hand in greeting is a universally understood gesture, even if you don't speak the same language.
Looking forward to future updates!
Well, a lot of human concepts and emotions are based in fundamental facts of living on any planet. For instance, fear is a response to danger, which any living thing, no matter how powerful, will experience in one way or another. Similarly, raising an open hand has a universal meaning: by putting your only appendages capable of holding weapons in view, one can prove that you are not planing on attacking.
I paused for a moment or so, wondering what concept I should depict next. Obviously, it would have to be an explanation of how I ended up on this planet. Working quickly, I drew an outline of Aurora. I pointed up at the sky. Next, I drew a circle, symbolising Manannán. I pointed to the Warpers, then at the circle. This is your world. I spread my arms wide, indicating everything around us, then pointed back at the image of the planet. Frustratingly, the Warpers displayed no indication that they understood what I was trying to tell them.
I drew Aurora again, only this time in a nose-down attitude, as if it was preparing to land. I drew a large quarter-circle in the bottom right corner, indicating that the ship was closer to the planet than before. I pointed to the complete circle, then back at the enlarged section. This is your planet. The next picture of Aurora was drawn quickly, only this time I had included the explosion. The last panel of this sequence was that of Aurora after it had crash-landed in the ocean. I pointed north in the direction of the wreck. This time, the Warpers responded with that same scissoring motion I had seen before.
Finally, I drew the Lifepod floating on the ocean, adding a lone figure with its right hand raised in greeting standing on top of it. I pointed at the figure, then splayed my hand against my chest. This is me. For good measure, I pointed at the Lifepod and then back at Aurora. This came from here. More scissoring. Fortunately, they had toned down their telepathic 'shouts' to a far more tolerable level, so I was able to think a little more clearly at this stage. It's time for some advanced concepts.
I drew a single Warper, followed by an ellipse. I placed a little asterisk above the head of the Warper, then swam a short distance and began to draw another Warper. As soon as it was completed, I placed another asterisk above its head. Then I pointed at the Warpers themselves. This is how you travel. I pointed at the original Aurora, then pointed at myself. This was how I travelled. The Warpers scissored their forelimbs again in what I suspected was a gesture of comprehension.
So far, so good.
One of the Warpers moved forward and approached the wall. It began scratching a design in the nanocrete with the extreme tip of its forelimb. As the image progressed, I could see that Warpers were able to use their forelimbs with surprising delicacy. Instead of terminating in a pair of rigid chitinous spikes, the lower ends of these appendages could be flexed and bent at will, providing these creatures with an unusual degree of dexterity. I couldn't imagine them being able to hold and use human tools with those forelimbs, although it came as a complete surprise that Warpers were able to use them in such a precise manner.
The Warper's drawing was complete. I recognised its rendition of Aurora's outline easily. I also recognised the chilling significance of the raised pair of talons the Warper had drawn beside it. Aurora had threatened or attacked something.
The Warper moved back to face the wall, quickly adding a circle. Then it spread its forelimbs in an all-encompassing gesture.
Our world.
This was a particularly thorny problem. I wasn't at all certain that the Warpers would understand that the accident (and remember, it was entirely an accident) was caused by Alphard's coronal mass ejection interacting with a stream of residual charged particles, expelled during the shutdown of Aurora's Alcubierre warp field. I stared numbly at the Warper's drawing, desperately wracking my brain for an acceptable response to its unmistakably blunt accusation.
In my opinion almost as good as philips pullmans dark materials exceptional
ps im going to make a subnautica minecraft adventure map would you mind if i based it off your story
In my opinion almost as good as philips pullmans dark materials exceptional
ps im going to make a subnautica minecraft adventure map would you mind if i based it off your story
Be my guest.
I've been slightly more generous with the distances between features in this world, although the map is essentially the same as you would find in the game. Merely stretched UWE's world layout, took a few liberties and added a couple of locations.
There was a huge potential for grave misunderstandings in what I was about to do. It was entirely possible that the Warpers had their own cultural view of how the Universe worked, and I was poised on the brink of revealing some uncomfortable (and possibly heretical) truths about its true nature. I drew a simple schematic of the Alpha Hydrae star system and its twelve main satellites, using the image of a stylised, pointed star to represent Alphard rather than the usual planetary circle. I looked up and pointed at the setting sun, then pointed to the star I had drawn. Four orbits out, I drew a Warper above the planet, pointed at it and spread my arms wide. This is your world. The Warpers appeared to understand.
I drew another hasty outline picture of Aurora, adding a few stick figures holding up their right hands inside the outline. We came in peace. Next, I drew the shape of a wave in front of Aurora's bow, followed by an image of the star that had another wave directly opposite the one in front of Aurora. This was followed by a separate image of the two waves colliding with each other, sending a much larger wave towards the circle representing Alpha Hydra 4. There appeared to be a silent conference between the two, accompanied by a subdued display of pattern shifts over their mantles. To emphasise my statement, I drew the star symbol and a pair of raised talons facing Aurora.
The star had attacked our ship.
This statement had a definite visible effect on both Warpers. Instead of the luminous, vibrant shades of purple they typically displayed, the Warpers' outer mantles had now become an ashen, ghostly grey. They scissored their forelimbs slowly, then swept them backward in a graceful gesture that almost seemed like a bow. From where I'm standing, that looks like a genuine admission of regret. I repeated this gesture in my own clumsy fashion, intending to convey that I understood. If it were at all possible, I would have also offered my own gesture of apology for everything that had happened since Aurora's arrival.
The sun had almost completely set. I pointed at the sun, then described three-quarters of a circle using my whole arm. Then I pointed at the Talking Wall. I will return here tomorrow. The Warpers gestured that they understood, summoned a portal and then promptly vanished though it.
I was utterly exhausted by the time I made it back aboard Gawain. That wee chat had taken four and a half hours. I was badly dehydrated and ravenously hungry, although I didn't quite feel up to facing anything substantial yet. A couple of litres of water would be sufficient for now, so I'll wait to see how I'm faring once we've returned to The Broch. My head ached abominably, still suffering the after-effects of that first psionic blast.
Even so, I was delighted. An actual first-contact situation that didn't end in an interplanetary war. That will look impressive on my resume, at least. It had been a remarkably draining experience, although I was eagerly looking forward to tomorrow. I might as well fabricate some decent drawing tools and metallic colouring styluses before turning in tonight, if only to add some finer details to the next batch of drawings. Today's efforts were a little bit too 'yabba-dabba-doo' for my taste, and I wouldn't want the Warpers to think that I'm totally incompetent in this area. However, the laser cutter and welding torch will have to remain in the toy box for the full duration. They look far too much like weapons, and they'd play merry hell with a Warper's optical systems.
When I returned to the monument the following morning, I found the Warpers already hard at work on their contribution to the discussion. I made my presence known as politely as possible, then moved a short distance away to give them enough clear space to continue working. Their picture was almost complete by the time I arrived, so I was able to get a fairly decent handle on the particular concept that they were trying to convey.
In truth, the Warpers had created something equally as intricate as a Mayan calendar stone or a Tibetan mandala. It was exceptionally detailed, and I marvelled at the level of craftsmanship they had employed during its execution. As for the amount of information that this pictogram contained, it could only be described as staggering.
World-shattering, in point of actual fact.
The central image was that of some apparently immense creature. Its upper torso appeared vaguely humanoid, although there were definite signs that it shared kinship with both reptilian and cephalopoid life forms. Its head was of a similar design to the Terran hammerhead shark, with the facial structure of a Reaper Leviathan thrown in for good measure. Its forelimbs resembled a sea turtle's flippers, and the lower half of its body bore strong similarities to a giant Pacific squid. The impressive level of fine detail that the Warpers had used in depicting this creature seemed almost... Reverent.
Various creatures were arranged in a series of concentric circles around this central figure. Some I knew only too well, and there were others I had yet to encounter. The next circle out from the central image contained extremely large and solid-looking creatures that resembled a fusion of dragon and squid. Assuming that these drawings were roughly attuned to some arbitrary scale, these draconian squid were depicted as slightly smaller than the central figure, but were no less impressive. For want of a better name, I called them 'dragon leviathans'. On closer examination, I noticed a series of fine radial lines extending out from the central figure I had named 'Sea Emperor'.
At the end of each line, a ring of different species could be found. The Warpers were in the next ring, followed by subsequent rings containing Reefbacks, Reapers, Stalkers, Sand Sharks and Bone Sharks, along with many other unknown species. Shuttlebugs, Crashes and Bleeders were on the outermost rings. If I'm interpreting this drawing correctly, it appears to be an evolutionary sequence. However, that conclusion doesn't match the genomic information I'd obtained from JUNO, IANTO or the Magellan research logs. In fact, it seemed to be more like a graphic representation of a caste system.
I almost missed a crucial clue. There was a small design beside the Sea Emperor's picture. My eyes had skipped over this object at first, since it appeared to be a purely artistic ornament. I moved closer to get a better look at this design element. This strange glyph resembled the familiar representation of the DNA molecule. An even closer examination revealed that this molecule possessed four strands. Three distinct helices were wrapped around a central core filament.
Impossible.
"JUNO." I said softly, "Are you getting this?"
"I most certainly am, Captain. It is our considered opinion that you are seeing a representation of something truly miraculous. The entity you have named 'Sea Emperor' appears to be the actual progenitor of every species currently living on this planet. He is the Alpha and Omega of all life here."
Comments
Gawain was mine. Guinevere was JUNO's. Galahad was assigned to IANTO, and Percival to DIGBY. Since they were the most effective combat-capable vehicles currently at our disposal, it seemed only right and proper to name them after central characters in Arthurian legends. The fact that ExoSuits closely resembled suits of mediaeval plate armour was entirely coincidental.
Of course, I could have taken the boring route and named them 'ExoSuit One' through 'ExoSuit Four', but where's the fun in that?
My first port of call was the wrecked Lifepod. Pod Seven.
The very fact that the pod was submerged and partially destroyed should have been sufficient reason to pass it by, although I felt it necessary to examine at least one Lifepod for any signs of irregularity. I was full expecting heavy blast damage to be the norm here, although it wouldn't be entirely out of the question to find relatively intact pods on the bottom as well. Pod Seven had suffered a massive internal explosion, most likely originating in its bank of PermaCells. The side emergency access panel had blown out completely, taking the buoyancy chambers with it. Small wonder that pod went straight to the bottom.
There was nothing more to be learned here. I headed east, aiming for the unexplored region just off Aurora's port bow. To pass the time, I activated the suit's audio entertainment system. Ironically, the first random track that it played was a little something from Blue Oyster Cult...
'Don't Fear The Reaper'.
In a way, that song was particularly appropriate. I had come a very long way from being a lone defenceless swimmer, dropped practically empty-handed into a pitiless alien ocean. What I had now still fell considerably short of an absolute mastery of my environment, although I have reached a stage where there were very few things remaining on this planet that I truly feared. Surprisingly, it always came back down to Crawlers, Biters, Crashes and Bleeders. Now that I had the ExoSuit, even these tiny demons of the mind might eventually fade into insignificance, although I sincerely doubted it. You can't live inside an armoured shell forever.
This was the paradox of armour. If you felt truly safe only as long as you remained inside it, there was no way that an armoured vehicle would be considered an entirely effective defence measure. In my case, I could safely leave the ExoSuit while it was underwater, secure in the knowledge that if needs be, one of the AIs would instantly take control of the ExoSuit and use it to defend me. Naturally, there were areas on this planet where extreme environmental conditions made it an instantly fatal proposition to leave the ExoSuit. It was the certainty of knowing that I'd soon have to venture into these areas that concerned me the most right now.
"What's the analysis on this one, JUNO?"
"Communal plant specimen, Captain. No stinging cells or toxic exudates detected on external structure. Completely harmless. No other resident life forms are detected within the central structure. This plant has significant nutritional and hydration value. Samples may be collected for cultivation as a potential food source."
The growth reminded me of those squishy rubber filament balls. More a tactile toy than an actual ball you might use in a regular game, but they were curiously interesting to handle. Koosh Balls, I think they were called. Haven't seen one of those in a donkey's age, although I assume that they're still available back on Terra. This plant had the same sort of visual 'tactile' appeal. It practically invited you to bounce around on its upper surface.
"Designate new flora species as 'Koosh Bush', JUNO."
I continued to explore the area, dropping into one of the narrow side canyons that threaded through the outer edges of this region. One hundred and forty metres down at this point. There was an abundance of smaller fish here, all of the usual deep reef species were present. I thought that I saw a couple of Shuttlebugs some distance ahead, and homed in on them. Shuttlebugs are harmless scavengers that pose no threat to an unprotected diver. However, these creatures had a tendency to hang around cave openings, marking them as reliable indicators that a cave system was somewhere close nearby.
I was mistaken. Those creatures weren't Shuttlebugs. They were closer to actual fish in their overall appearance, although there was that unmistakable alien look about them. These fish have four large petal-like fins and two smaller lobes that are usually held flat against their bodies as they swim around. I watched two of these fish meet head-on, and something unusual happened. Both fish deployed their fins in a cruciform shape, circled each other face to face for a minute or so and then swam away. To my untrained eye, it looked like some sort of territorial threat display or quite possibly, a courtship ritual. I decided to watch these creatures for a while longer, if only to get a clearer idea of how they fit into the ecosystem down here.
One swam close to Gawain's observation port. It must have noticed me sitting behind the plex, because it responded with that same threat display. I was able to get an excellent view of one now. I'm not certain whether it was some trick of the light on iridescent scales or chromatophore cells in the skin of the creature, but I noticed a complex, rippling pattern begin to play over the surface of its extended fins. The patterns shifted and swirled enticingly, never once repeating themselves. It was utterly fascinating to watch. I could cheerfully do this for hours.
Suddenly, the creature opened its jaws wide and lunged forward.
If I didn't know better, I'd swear that nasty little rutter was putting the 'fluence on me just before it attacked. Bloody typical. If I could have just one reasonable wish granted on this planet, I wish that I could encounter at least one new life form that doesn't want to eat my face. Seriously. It's not too much to ask.
New biome, and a whole new ballgame. I conjured that last unpleasant surprise was more than enough incentive to stop treating this trip as another casual stroll. High time to adopt a more businesslike posture, I think. I stood up, and the pilot's seat automatically retracted into the rear of the cabin. Interface cables snaked out of their housings and connected smoothly with my dive suit. I felt the ExoSuit's haptic feedback system kick in reassuringly. The next thing that jumps out at me will get a hydraulically-assisted bunch of fives in the face. Johnny Appleseed has left the building.
No more Mister Nice Guy.
I found one of our missing recon camera drones. Or rather, what was left of it. It wasn't a pretty sight. It looked like a thoroughly mangled wad of chewing gum. Titanium chewing gum, at that.
"Any large lifesigns in the area, JUNO?" I asked wearily. I already knew what the answer would be.
"Affirmative. Detecting powerful EM transients in the same location. Distance to first contact at 025 degrees, 80 metres. Target speed, five knots. Please proceed with extreme caution, Captain."
Our new beasties were some kind of segmented eel-like creature. Their size varied between six and eight metres, with numerous blunt bioluminescent-tipped appendages protruding from their bodies. I counted eight body segments on each, not including the head and tail. These segments rotated slowly from side to side as the creatures swam, seemingly independent of each other. However, this was not their most striking feature.
Each creature was a living Jacob's Ladder. Their bodies rippled with powerful electrical arc discharges, passing slowly from head to tail as they swam. I shook my head in disbelief. There was no known creature in creation that could constantly discharge that much visible voltage. Their nutritional requirements must be tremendous.
"JUNO, what's the read on these characters? You might want to bring IANTO and DIGBY in on this, too. I'm completely stumped for an explanation. There's no possible way that this species could sustain those discharges. Even the electric eels and torpedo rays of Terra run out of juice eventually. These things are throwing off lightning like decorator accents in Frankenstein's laboratory!"
JUNO answered. "Peak discharge voltage, 30,000 volts at 120 amperes. Their bio-electric field is generated by previously observed internal chemical reactions and capacitance effects. Unable to provide a more detailed internal scan of the target organisms, owing to high levels of broad-spectrum EM interference."
IANTO added, "It is most likely that the creature creates ionization pathways between those four organic electrodes on each body segment. This could be accomplished by using a modulated secondary voltage, presumably generated by the twisting motion of its body. This might explain the presence of visible arcs where none should actually exist. A most impressive discovery, Captain."
As I neared the monument, I felt a very strange sensation. It was almost as if my brain itched.
I activated the ExoSuit's camouflage field. As I approached, the sensation intensified.
"JUNO, I'm experiencing something pretty weird here. It's similar to what I felt last time. Can you detect anything unusual in the area? Radiation, life forms, EM sources, et cetera?"
"Negative, Captain. However, I am aware that you are currently experiencing a number of highly unusual physiological effects. Elevated stress hormone levels detected. Increased brain activity in frontal cortex and limbic lobe. Spontaneous onset of symptoms congruent with a minor episode of peripheral motor ataxia. Although these conditions are still within acceptable thresholds, I strongly recommend that you leave this area immediately, Captain."
I shook my head, trying to pull myself together.
"No. I'm going in. There's definitely something here, and I have to find out what it is. In case things do suddenly go pear-shaped, get ready to grab hold of Gawain and bug out."
"Affirmative, Captain."
I could see the base of the obelisk quite clearly now. Keeping low, I followed the contours of the basalt outcrop until I was directly in line with the front wall of the monument's plinth. The ExoSuit rose slowly under the thrusters' lowest power setting. Twenty metres. Ten Metres.
Warpers.
Two of them. The ExoSuit hung silent, suspended in mid-water. They appeared to be intently examining the inscriptions on the plinth. I activated the external camera, hoping to capture something that would provide a deeper insight into the nature of these mysterious creatures. The Warpers appeared to be communicating with each other, using a mix of elegant gestures, shifting patterns and subtle colour changes on their translucent mantles. Surprisingly similar to cephalopods back on Terra, in fact.
This could create some difficulties, communications-wise.
I might be able to put on a simple pantomime to get my side of the story across, but there was no way that I could use that pattern and colour shifting trick in a conversation. It was impossible to decipher, even with JUNO's help.
Even the gestures were highly problematic. Without proper context, I might find myself unwittingly throwing 'Yo Mama' insults at a potentially friendly alien species.
That would definitely end well.
I got this account just to tell you that, and the following.
I got here VIA TvTropes.
What happened next was indescribable.
Looking back on it, I can only describe the sensation as having a CO2 fire extinguisher emptied into my face, followed by a crippling blast of RF static pumped directly into my brain.
It was utterly horrific. I never want to experience that sensation again.
I sagged helplessly in the pilot's suspension harness, clawing blindly for the helmet's release mechanism. For some reason, my hands wouldn't work properly. Somehow, I found the latch and pulled it hard, clumsily dragging the helmet clear of my head. It fell away and clattered to the floor of the cabin. I vomited violently, spraying what remained of breakfast and lunch over the instrument cluster. Its rank, cheesy odour triggered another painful wave of retching, followed by another. Finally and mercifully, there was nothing left to bring up. I felt completely wrung out.
"Captain! What's happening?" JUNO cried. "Are you being attacked?"
I couldn't answer. There was little else I could do but hang limply in the harness, breathing heavily. The thunderous white noise in my head had began to subside a little, and I could feel my scattered wits gradually beginning to sort themselves out.
"I... Don't think so. Give me a minute." I said raggedly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "I think I've been rumbled. They definitely know that I'm out here."
Thankfully, the helmet had rolled away into a clean corner of the cabin. Shakily, I reached out and deactivated the ExoSuit's holographic camouflage. The Warpers tensed, raising their needle-sharp forelimbs in a clearly menacing gesture. I uncoupled myself from the haptic control rig and stooped down awkwardly to retrieve my diving helmet. After several botched attempts, I managed to engage the collar seals and snapped the retaining clamp shut. My hands lacked strength and still trembled faintly. Whatever they had hit me with, my body definitely couldn't handle a second dose.
"Looks like I've got some serious explaining to do." I said simply.
"Do you really intend to exit this vehicle, Captain?" JUNO asked worriedly. "Under these circumstances, I strongly advise against it. Please reconsider your current course of action."
"From where I'm standing, it looks like there's no other way, JUNO." I said calmly. "Stand by in overwatch mode. Weapons free, defensive action only. Minimal force. Remember, these chaps have ridiculously fragile bodies."
"Are you absolutely certain about this, Captain?"
"Not even remotely, JUNO." I chuckled half-heartedly. "Still, I feel it's the only chance we'll get to put a proper lid on this situation. Might as well meet our neighbours halfway, at the very least."
I flooded the cabin and exited the hatch, completely unarmed.
My first action was to raise my right hand slowly and deliberately in salutation.
"Greetings. I come in peace."
I swam towards them carefully and stopped barely two metres in front of the pair. Well within their striking distance. I pointed directly at the inscriptions and then pointed at myself. No response.
Another short burst of static spiked in my head. It wasn't quite strong enough to disorientate me, although I felt a brief surge of nausea welling up inside. Although I still couldn't determine what emotions (if any) these bursts conveyed, it seemed somehow less... Insistent. Definitely far less aggressive, at any rate.
I think I might have figured out what's happening here. Warpers are essentially telepathic, although their preferred mode of communication does involve an intricate series of forelimb gestures, shifting mantle patterns and colour changes. Those brain bursts I was experiencing apparently served as a sort of 'vocal' component. As far as was I able to determine, my arrival here may have caught them entirely by surprise.
As for the bursts themselves, the only comparison that I can draw is that it's like trying to drink from a fire hose. I simply lack the mental capacity to keep pace with their data transfer rate. At this point, it doesn't even matter what information they're actually trying to convey. It could be subtle emotional modifiers to their mantle patterns, discrete speech elements of an alien language, or they might even be laughing at the weird-looking thing floating in front of them. I had absolutely no way of comprehending any of the information that might be contained in those bursts.
It could be equally as strange when experienced from a Warper's point of view. Assuming that they were indeed able to intercept my thoughts psionically, I imagined how frustrating this awkward not-quite 'conversation' would be to them. It would be like trying to identify a unfamiliar piece of music played on an old-fashioned magnetic tape, running at one centimetre per week. My only real hope was to slow the chat down until some sort of basic mutual understanding could be reached. My frieze was still only partially complete, so it wouldn't be quite as useful as I had first hoped. However, the side facing Aurora was completely blank.
It could serve as our 'Talking Wall'.
I searched around the base of the plinth, looking for something to draw with. A discarded fist-sized chunk of gold was the first thing that came to hand. I would have preferred a Stalker tooth, although it might be seen as a potential weapon in this situation. The gold would simply have to do for now. It was awkwardly shaped, although I managed to coax a reasonable representation of myself out of it onto the nanocrete wall. The Warpers watched intently as I drew, their expressions utterly unreadable. Next, I drew the pair of Warpers. After completing the image, I swam to one side and let them see what I had drawn. I pointed to my picture and planted my hand firmly on my chest. This is me.
I pointed at the picture of the Warpers and then pointed directly at them. This is you.
This simple action elicited a most curious response. Both Warpers rapidly flashed patterns across their mantles, making a series of short, rapid scissoring actions with their upper limbs. They were clearly excited by what they saw. Another micro-burst smacked into my head. Ouch.
Ah. I think we might be making some headway at last. Excellent.
This gets me thinking about what we as a species would do if we ever encountered sapient extraterrestrial life. We keep talking about finding and meeting up with them, but how would we actually get our messages across to them? Would we (Or they) even be capable of comprehending the thoughts and emotions they're trying to communicate? It's not like on Earth where raising your hand in greeting is a universally understood gesture, even if you don't speak the same language.
Looking forward to future updates!
Well, a lot of human concepts and emotions are based in fundamental facts of living on any planet. For instance, fear is a response to danger, which any living thing, no matter how powerful, will experience in one way or another. Similarly, raising an open hand has a universal meaning: by putting your only appendages capable of holding weapons in view, one can prove that you are not planing on attacking.
or are they just RnR'ing me?
I drew Aurora again, only this time in a nose-down attitude, as if it was preparing to land. I drew a large quarter-circle in the bottom right corner, indicating that the ship was closer to the planet than before. I pointed to the complete circle, then back at the enlarged section. This is your planet. The next picture of Aurora was drawn quickly, only this time I had included the explosion. The last panel of this sequence was that of Aurora after it had crash-landed in the ocean. I pointed north in the direction of the wreck. This time, the Warpers responded with that same scissoring motion I had seen before.
Finally, I drew the Lifepod floating on the ocean, adding a lone figure with its right hand raised in greeting standing on top of it. I pointed at the figure, then splayed my hand against my chest. This is me. For good measure, I pointed at the Lifepod and then back at Aurora. This came from here. More scissoring. Fortunately, they had toned down their telepathic 'shouts' to a far more tolerable level, so I was able to think a little more clearly at this stage. It's time for some advanced concepts.
I drew a single Warper, followed by an ellipse. I placed a little asterisk above the head of the Warper, then swam a short distance and began to draw another Warper. As soon as it was completed, I placed another asterisk above its head. Then I pointed at the Warpers themselves. This is how you travel. I pointed at the original Aurora, then pointed at myself. This was how I travelled. The Warpers scissored their forelimbs again in what I suspected was a gesture of comprehension.
So far, so good.
One of the Warpers moved forward and approached the wall. It began scratching a design in the nanocrete with the extreme tip of its forelimb. As the image progressed, I could see that Warpers were able to use their forelimbs with surprising delicacy. Instead of terminating in a pair of rigid chitinous spikes, the lower ends of these appendages could be flexed and bent at will, providing these creatures with an unusual degree of dexterity. I couldn't imagine them being able to hold and use human tools with those forelimbs, although it came as a complete surprise that Warpers were able to use them in such a precise manner.
The Warper's drawing was complete. I recognised its rendition of Aurora's outline easily. I also recognised the chilling significance of the raised pair of talons the Warper had drawn beside it. Aurora had threatened or attacked something.
The Warper moved back to face the wall, quickly adding a circle. Then it spread its forelimbs in an all-encompassing gesture.
Our world.
This was a particularly thorny problem. I wasn't at all certain that the Warpers would understand that the accident (and remember, it was entirely an accident) was caused by Alphard's coronal mass ejection interacting with a stream of residual charged particles, expelled during the shutdown of Aurora's Alcubierre warp field. I stared numbly at the Warper's drawing, desperately wracking my brain for an acceptable response to its unmistakably blunt accusation.
ps im going to make a subnautica minecraft adventure map would you mind if i based it off your story
Be my guest.
I've been slightly more generous with the distances between features in this world, although the map is essentially the same as you would find in the game. Merely stretched UWE's world layout, took a few liberties and added a couple of locations.
There was a huge potential for grave misunderstandings in what I was about to do. It was entirely possible that the Warpers had their own cultural view of how the Universe worked, and I was poised on the brink of revealing some uncomfortable (and possibly heretical) truths about its true nature. I drew a simple schematic of the Alpha Hydrae star system and its twelve main satellites, using the image of a stylised, pointed star to represent Alphard rather than the usual planetary circle. I looked up and pointed at the setting sun, then pointed to the star I had drawn. Four orbits out, I drew a Warper above the planet, pointed at it and spread my arms wide. This is your world. The Warpers appeared to understand.
I drew another hasty outline picture of Aurora, adding a few stick figures holding up their right hands inside the outline. We came in peace. Next, I drew the shape of a wave in front of Aurora's bow, followed by an image of the star that had another wave directly opposite the one in front of Aurora. This was followed by a separate image of the two waves colliding with each other, sending a much larger wave towards the circle representing Alpha Hydra 4. There appeared to be a silent conference between the two, accompanied by a subdued display of pattern shifts over their mantles. To emphasise my statement, I drew the star symbol and a pair of raised talons facing Aurora.
The star had attacked our ship.
This statement had a definite visible effect on both Warpers. Instead of the luminous, vibrant shades of purple they typically displayed, the Warpers' outer mantles had now become an ashen, ghostly grey. They scissored their forelimbs slowly, then swept them backward in a graceful gesture that almost seemed like a bow. From where I'm standing, that looks like a genuine admission of regret. I repeated this gesture in my own clumsy fashion, intending to convey that I understood. If it were at all possible, I would have also offered my own gesture of apology for everything that had happened since Aurora's arrival.
The sun had almost completely set. I pointed at the sun, then described three-quarters of a circle using my whole arm. Then I pointed at the Talking Wall. I will return here tomorrow. The Warpers gestured that they understood, summoned a portal and then promptly vanished though it.
I was utterly exhausted by the time I made it back aboard Gawain. That wee chat had taken four and a half hours. I was badly dehydrated and ravenously hungry, although I didn't quite feel up to facing anything substantial yet. A couple of litres of water would be sufficient for now, so I'll wait to see how I'm faring once we've returned to The Broch. My head ached abominably, still suffering the after-effects of that first psionic blast.
Even so, I was delighted. An actual first-contact situation that didn't end in an interplanetary war. That will look impressive on my resume, at least. It had been a remarkably draining experience, although I was eagerly looking forward to tomorrow. I might as well fabricate some decent drawing tools and metallic colouring styluses before turning in tonight, if only to add some finer details to the next batch of drawings. Today's efforts were a little bit too 'yabba-dabba-doo' for my taste, and I wouldn't want the Warpers to think that I'm totally incompetent in this area. However, the laser cutter and welding torch will have to remain in the toy box for the full duration. They look far too much like weapons, and they'd play merry hell with a Warper's optical systems.
In truth, the Warpers had created something equally as intricate as a Mayan calendar stone or a Tibetan mandala. It was exceptionally detailed, and I marvelled at the level of craftsmanship they had employed during its execution. As for the amount of information that this pictogram contained, it could only be described as staggering.
World-shattering, in point of actual fact.
The central image was that of some apparently immense creature. Its upper torso appeared vaguely humanoid, although there were definite signs that it shared kinship with both reptilian and cephalopoid life forms. Its head was of a similar design to the Terran hammerhead shark, with the facial structure of a Reaper Leviathan thrown in for good measure. Its forelimbs resembled a sea turtle's flippers, and the lower half of its body bore strong similarities to a giant Pacific squid. The impressive level of fine detail that the Warpers had used in depicting this creature seemed almost... Reverent.
Various creatures were arranged in a series of concentric circles around this central figure. Some I knew only too well, and there were others I had yet to encounter. The next circle out from the central image contained extremely large and solid-looking creatures that resembled a fusion of dragon and squid. Assuming that these drawings were roughly attuned to some arbitrary scale, these draconian squid were depicted as slightly smaller than the central figure, but were no less impressive. For want of a better name, I called them 'dragon leviathans'. On closer examination, I noticed a series of fine radial lines extending out from the central figure I had named 'Sea Emperor'.
At the end of each line, a ring of different species could be found. The Warpers were in the next ring, followed by subsequent rings containing Reefbacks, Reapers, Stalkers, Sand Sharks and Bone Sharks, along with many other unknown species. Shuttlebugs, Crashes and Bleeders were on the outermost rings. If I'm interpreting this drawing correctly, it appears to be an evolutionary sequence. However, that conclusion doesn't match the genomic information I'd obtained from JUNO, IANTO or the Magellan research logs. In fact, it seemed to be more like a graphic representation of a caste system.
I almost missed a crucial clue. There was a small design beside the Sea Emperor's picture. My eyes had skipped over this object at first, since it appeared to be a purely artistic ornament. I moved closer to get a better look at this design element. This strange glyph resembled the familiar representation of the DNA molecule. An even closer examination revealed that this molecule possessed four strands. Three distinct helices were wrapped around a central core filament.
Impossible.
"JUNO." I said softly, "Are you getting this?"
"I most certainly am, Captain. It is our considered opinion that you are seeing a representation of something truly miraculous. The entity you have named 'Sea Emperor' appears to be the actual progenitor of every species currently living on this planet. He is the Alpha and Omega of all life here."