First Contact

1041 1 0

Waking up in an unfamiliar environment felt weird. The near-darkness of the shelter scared the nameless Slugpup. Luckily her fur began to glow faintly only three cycles ago. The dim green shine from her follicles allowed her to inspect the inner workings of the hermetically sealed room a bit closer. Looking close at the metal-like bits and pieces she could swear that some of them moved around. Barely noticeable, but definitely real.

 

Is everything in this bucket of bolts and beams alive? … I better watch where I drool on. Don’t want to anger eye-buddy’s building. Unless buddy ticks me off. Then I will, yess! 

 

Planning her future pranks to annoy her creator, the Scug didn’t notice at first that the shelter began to open. Only when the bolts connecting the panels retracted and allowed the same to slide apart, did she notice that the night was indeed over. Or that was what she assumed, given the fact that the eye purposefully led her to this safe spot. The storm of the outside had ceased, and her oh-so-familiar eye-buddy awaited her in the dim tunnel, glimmering impatiently.

 

“Wa! Wawa!” ‘Morning! Buddy eye!’

 

The eye ogled her with indifference. She assumed that it didn’t understand. Well, maybe her body language would be more telling. She instead wagged frantically with her short arms, hopping up and down.

 

That should be enough. Now lead me to wherever you want me. But … my tummy rumbles. Food?

 

The Scug pointed to her belly and opened her white eyes wide, trying her best to make the black edges of her eyeball turn the blank stare into a pleading expression. It must have looked quite convincing as the eye-buddy retorted with the pictogram of a bowl of her sludge-like food, followed by an arrow pointing down. Down to a pair of grappling hand-plants, presumingly keeping her breakfast safe from other hungry beings … she guessed the walls around them. They must be starving she thought to herself.

Engaging with the bowl, filled with the soft food she grew so fond of in her short life she ate a bit more messy than usual, curious if the breathing metal below her would absorb her meal. She huffed in disappointment when that was not the case. Spoiled panels, too … metal … for her feast.

Finishing up her breakfast with a few more, now not as messy anymore, bites, she licked her snout in delight and stretched her limbs as the food did its tingling effect on her whole body. She could have sworn that her glowing sensation grew a tiny bit. From a whitish glow to a brighter green one. She liked that hue and appreciated the brightness her body produced. Darkness was scary after all. And she was already more powerful than that pesky blackness.

Strong me, very powerful. Good eye-buddy.

 

Eye-buddy projected another pictogram with its slender tendrils, this time an arrow with a picture of a face. An oval with two crooked ear-like protrusions and big eyes. On the forehead one big cycle with two smaller ones peeking out from the sides. That must be the real identity of her eye-buddy the Scug thought to herself. She stretched her limbs one last time and began following the eye once more.

Their journey led to more strange places as they ventured deeper into the facility. The walls were now covered with thin tendril-like plants, which reinforced her assumption that the construct was alive. She also noticed in childlike amazement that her grip to the ground lessened, which allowed her to jump much higher. An exciting occurrence she had to abuse much to the eye’s visible frustration. She wound up her short hind legs and jumped up to the ceiling. With a happy ‘Wawa’ she managed to grab hold on the grass-like tendrils far above her, which however caused the handplants, which were still accompanying them, to quickly reach up to her and pluck her down. Her eye-buddy reappeared, now visibly angry.

 

Noted. So this all … is you? … That means the earthquake from a few cycles ago. What caused that much agony to you, buddy eye?

 

A few rooms later the lightened gravity vanished for good, and she found herself opposed by the odd sensation of weightlessness … and helplessness. She attempted without much success to rudder with her limbs, not being able to move at all. The eye observed her struggles for a bit, was she able to sense a smug expression in its stare? She pouted at them and the eye jolted over, summoning the handplants to its side. It chucked a piece of floating debris to her, pointed at the end of the corridor, and projected a throwing pictogram.

With an annoyed huff she followed the instruction. Wound up her arm and tossed the chunk of metal to the pipe at the end of the corridor. The exerted force of the throw caused her to tumble aimlessly to the point she threw at. A few minutes of circulatory torture later the Pup finally managed to grab hold on one of the cable-bridges, which would lead her to the pipe. Transversing it she had much fewer issues in the following rooms, having learned to use debris to toss her path through the weightlessness.

 

The further I go, the weirder this place gets … long bone-like tendrils with brushy tips. Small many-colored floating cups. … Whatever these big multi-headed thingies are that are inspecting me. You are weird, eye-buddy.

 

The exploration through the weightless weirdness continued for quite a while as she passed strange rooms containing even stranger contraptions. At some point her vision got impaired by countless blinking symbols, which laid over her eyes and overstimulated her to the point of yapping in terror. The eye noticed her incapability to continue, and after some reluctance provided her one service arm to hold on to. The arm wound up and bowled her without much care to a bigger pipe below her, an important-looking one.

 

 

“Waaaawa!” ‘H-hey, watch it!’

 

She looked in dissatisfaction past the visual torment to her eye-buddy, who retorted her gaze with an impatient animated arrow. It pointed down, inside the large pipe. Was that their destination? She sighed and reluctantly obliged the request, climbing down into Approaching Sky’s core.

 


 

Sky followed the first adventure of his little messenger with high interest, making notes about her ability to adapt to new situations. While her antics put him off quite a few times he was still able to gather enough valuable data to estimate her growth. Gazing over the finished first report of that new chapter in [Project Acid-Rodent] he nodded to himself in satisfaction and opened a broadcast tunnel to Far Whisper.

 


[LIVE BROADCAST] – PRIVATE - [1694.520]

Approaching Sky, Far Whisper


AS: Subject 001 is able to adapt quite well to the challenges of my structure.

AS: What she lacks in obedience she makes up in her ability to put 1 and 1 together.

 

FW: Oh? And what gives off that impression to you, Sky?

 

AS: The way she interacts with my Overseer, my servo arms and the walls of my structure.

AS: It seems she rightfully assumes that all three instances are of the same being.

AS: I am impressed. She shows way more resonance to my mutations than other subjects.

 

FW: Sounds like your little messenger has what it takes.

FW: I pity you for what comes after, however.

 

AS: I have read Gales’ books. I think I can instil some loyalty in her.

 

FW: Lives and I have our doubts but go on. You can win a bet by proving us otherwise.

FW: And this bet includes you accepting help from Seven Red Suns … or reaching out in the first place.

 

AS: I will contact Seven Red Suns once I have enough data to work with. I won’t call them empty-handed.

AS: Also, betting? On what? No matter. Here, let me send you something to keep you occupied.

AS: You seem to require something to do, Whisper.

 

FW: The plans for the boosted Neuron Fly? Alright, I will set up my laboratories.

FW: Have fun with your child. Whisper out.


 


My child … I hate that terminology. But Shifting Gales insisted on it. To assist me in viewing her as more than just an experiment. But when I look at it in a void ... Subject 001 is exactly that to me. I have no … How does the book call it? … Emotional attachments to the Slugcat. Well, that should better change soon, or I won’t be able to apply 90% of Gales’ suggestions.

You better do well to impress me, Subject 001. … OK, last check. The bed corner is done. A sleeping spot. Feeding system is engaged. … Litter box. Local artificial gravity does function accordingly. Now all that is left is Subject 001.

 

Sky moved his umbilical arm from the western wall to the northern wall to have a better view at the hatch, where the Slugcat would drop in. He cleared the path and reorganized his pearl collections to not render this first meeting a chaos. The whole procedure felt weird. It was the first time that he reorganized his room in many major cycles. He had no visitor since the last mechanic of the Ancients ascended. Was he … nervous? He, a divine being, was nervous to welcome a common derivative of a Pipe Cleaner of all things.

He broke down into a toneless chuckle, realizing just how nonsensical he acted. His group would probably find their amusement in his situation. Gales would comment on him showing emotions, and probably encourage him to embrace them further. And Whisper as well as Lives would enjoy the show of administrator Approaching Sky getting out of his way to embark on paths unknown. But he didn’t care. All he cared about was the success of the mission to save his best friend. And if that means becoming a parent, so be it.

 

The access hatch began to blink in a green light, indicating that something, or better, somebody was currently occupying it. Approaching Sky brushed down his long cloak one last time and sighed. Yes … he was nervous. He would never openly claim that, but yes. His clenched fists told everything a psychiatrist needed to know to figure him out.

The hatch opened and a familiar face peered in. The bright green having by now fully overtaken 001’s grey fur, her pupils faded out into an offsetting white. The purposed wound herself through the exit and hailed his puppet with a single ‘Wawa!’. He didn’t react and instead, let a laser grid emerge out of the corners of the hatch and scanned the visitor for possibly illnesses, harmful to his biomechanical systems. He already knew the answer, but Sky already insisted on his tenfold checks from the date of his creation.

Satisfied with the results Sky raised an arm and grabbed the air in front of him, activating his telekinesis to bring the Slugcat closer. Observing her entire body now from up close, floating in front of his optics, he saw the opportunity to try out one of the chapters from Gales’ books.

Sky outstretched his hand and opened it to show the helpless Slugcat that he meant no harm. He stopped his hand in front of her snout and allowed her to smell his scent. 001 tilted her head but didn’t follow the offer, looking at him with wide white eyes.



You don’t want to smell me? … Wait. ‘On raising Lizards’: Chapter 34, Section 12. This gesture shows the young lizard that you are not armed and that you put yourself in a disadvantageous position. It also provides the lizard with the opportunity to smell your body odour and get familiar with your smell.

My puppet is serene. I have no body scent. A useless approach. Next attempt. Hmm.

Chapter 32, Section 7. Even if the lizard does not possess a mark, talking with them will procure beneficial results. They react positively to gentle phrases and a friendly general demeanour.

Might as well try that. My mark is quite basic. Unlike Gales, I never tinkered with its effectiveness. The likelihood of Subject 001 understanding me afterwards is at exactly 2.79%. I will let Gales bestow the mark of communication. That however brings me to the predicament that I have no way of communicating with her … I might have to call Seven Red Suns earlier than anticipated. Lives has told me last cycle, that she heard from Suns’ administrator that he used some kind of special way to communicate. Anyway, here goes nothing.

 

“Welcome, Subject 001.” He made his best impression of Shifting Gales, mimicking her friendliness. “I am Approaching Sky, your creator.”

 

The Slugcat put her ears back, a signal that she was in distress. Sky wrote down a mental notice that she either didn’t like his voice or the volume of it. Probably the volume, given she also had her eyes closed, pressed together. He lowered the volume and sighed, guiding her with his telekinesis to her staying space. Sky noticed an odd reaction when she felt the gravity pulling her down, a reaction he could interpret as happiness. It was obvious. She didn’t like zero gravity. Maybe getting her in a comfortable position would instil some readiness to cooperate.

Sky decided to ignore her for the next hours, instead, he called back Whisper to discuss a few more details regarding the boosted Neuron Flies. Whisper almost immediately called out his procrastinating and had quite the rush teasing his strange behaviour. But Sky had no desire to continue prodding in the dark.

He would call Suns once they answered his broadcast request, which he sent out directly after the first contact.

 


 

The origin of her eye-buddy was as enlightening as it was disappointing. The green metal thingy moved her around, presented her with nothing and tormented her sensitive ears. Then lost interest and placed her in a place akin to her other box. But bigger and with less dirt under her paws. Wel,  at least she was not subjected to weightlessness anymore, she noticed in delight.

She observed the floating bipedal a bit more as he began summoning screens all around him, all filled to the brim with unknown symbols and moving diagrams. One of the screens showed a funky-looking kin of her host, with hanging glowing bendy sticks as ears and quite the erratic body movement. The pink metal thingy was seemingly very amused by their kin’s performance.

Were they beeping about her? Probably. And the pink one’s reactions confirmed to her what green had already signalled. Her host would be a difficult case.

 


 

Suns was delighted by their new addition to Spearmaster’s ever-growing potential. However this time the experiment served a different purpose, one they were very excited about. Communication with their brave hero.

Spearmaster had left their chamber and was already past the gates to Suns' holy city. The Ancients used to call it ‘Sunpeak’, a quite fitting name for a simple purpose. The Void Revolution flipped the life of their creators upside down, introduced technology unimaginable to a society, which was originally highly spiritual in nature. Suns’ capital was an attempt to gratify the sceptics of the growing progress by providing continuance. They connived Suns to represent the karmic teachings, embraced them and turned Sunpeak into the spiritual capital of the continent.

Suns was never bothered by the fact that they essentially provided a face to an ideology which didn’t require gods to worship. But with them instilling a sense of divinity into all Iterators … some way more than others … that ideology soon developed naturally to outright worship of the Voidborn, the Iterators.

 

When Spearmaster stepped through the karmic gate, able to pass through it thanks to the citizen chip embedded under their purple fur, Suns gasped in delight at the visuals the camera provided. Sunpeak didn’t feature many buildings, but each building was larger and more complex than the last. But the main feature of Suns’ city was the megastructure that was the Basilica of the Void.

Well … past tense, Suns noticed in dismay. The 5th tower on the left had collapsed and took with it a majority of the adjacent roof decorations. At least the gigantic main tower was still intact and with it the enormous stained-glass window featuring a phantasmal depiction of Seven Red Sun’s puppet, cladded in a hilariously impractical fur-lined cloak. Suns never wore such extravagant cloaks in person, but the architects seemingly loved the idea. Not that he took offence in it, it suited their frame oddly well. 

 

‘Can you hear me, Spearmaster?’

 

The purple Slugcat perked up and looked around, confused by where the voice came from.

 

‘Sounds like you are right next to me … wait, device. You are inside my head, correct?’

‘Technically yes. Yes, I am. I programmed this receiver to be resonant to my signature. But other Iterators who know the password could feed it with their signature, with both our consent of course, allowing you to share your thoughts with me and my brethren.’

Useful. Slightly creepy, Seven Red Suns. Can I request a poke, before you speak?’

‘Like such?’ Suns sent a ping to the device, which nudged Spearmaster’s cranium. ‘Sufficiently gentle?”

‘…Yes. Irritating. But gentle.’

‘Splendid. And curious to hear your thoughts like words spoken. You are quite sophisticated, Spearmaster, if you allow me to make that observation.’

‘Learned from the best. Now … any place you want to see from inside?’

 

Suns thought about that for a fraction of a second. Visiting the basilica was of course their primary desire, given they were only able to see certain locations from the impressive insides from various screens Suns had access to as part of their duties. Suns’ red Overseers however had no clearance to enter the building, a fact which annoyed them deep to the core. Even upon their mass departure into the Void, nobody held it as a token of gratitude to grant their deity access to their own place of worship. … Typical. 

 

The Iterator was about to send Spearmaster the coordinates of their first exploration location as one of Suns’ dormant broadcast screens glowed up in an unknown hue of green and red. Not a call from No Significant Harassment, not even from anybody they actively talked with. Suns was oddly popular in their retreated state they noticed with a mental sigh. First a ping from a forgotten technology, and now the colours of … who was the caller … Approaching Sky?!


 

Please Login in order to comment!