|
ISBN# 978-0-9871809-7-7
“ahahahahahahah.” Sang the kookaburras as the first ray of sunshine lit up the top of their tree. As usual, the laughing of the kookaburras woke up all the other birds in all the other trees and then all the other birds in all the other trees took their turns at singing their morning songs, because that is what birds like to do when they see the start of a fresh new day, now, I could mention the names of all the other birds that sing along in the morning song with the kookaburras, but it would take too long and this story isn't about birds. Otherwise, all was quiet at the end of the gravel road deep in the forest and high in the hills above rainbow town as the RinkaDinkaSaurus moved carefully into the third little car story. She wasn't 100 percent sure what she was supposed to be doing, because she wasn't a story telling Dinosaur, but she did know that she was supposed to appear at the start of the third little car story because that's what the words said just before the official end of the second part of the story. The RinkaDinkaSaurus looked around without even moving her neck, which is only possible when you have eyes on the side of your head. Being a dinosaur she wasn't sure if what she was looking at was supposed to look like what she was seeing, but the place she was looking at with each of her eyes looked a very liveable and workable space, exactly the kind of place where little cars would live. Parts of it had wheels, parts of it were built around tree stumps, it had an odd number of walls with different sized rainbow glass windows that sparkled as the sunlight bounced through them. It had short soft grass growing in between like a carpet, it was dry and snug, with path ways leading off into the rainforest garden in all directions. little brown had long grass and lots and lots of flowers growing all around her, it looked like she hadn't moved for a very long time. little brown wasn't shaped like all the other little cars and she wasn't actually brown, her actual colour was rainbow, she had all of the colours woven together in patterns that could bedazzle the eyes, colours that you could only see when she was happy. The RinkaDinkaSaurus could see the story telling man sitting quietly next to little brown and he was able to sit quietly because he was barefoot, lefty and righty were still snuggled up together with all the other socks and clothes in the floordrobe. There is nothing wrong with you little brown, or at least nothing mechanical that I can repair, the only thing I can think of that I can do is to show you this mirror, now, what do you see? “I see a turtle.” said little brown, “Not a little car.” “AhA HaH aHa hAh!” said the storytelling man from rainbow town, with a laugh a lot like a kookaburras. “I know perzactly what we need to do next and perzactly who we need to see. We need to go on a road trip to find the deep see turtle.” “But how can I go on a road trip?” said little brown, “I'm broken down.” “Don't worry about a thing little brown”, said the storytelling man from rainbow town. “I know what you are and you are a little car and my backpack has just the space to fit you in so you can see out”. little brown started to glimmer around the edges and the paint on her back bumper bar began to glow ever so faintly with all the colours of the rainbow. “I love riding turtleback”, said little brown as her front bumper bar began to glow, ever so faintly like a rainbow. The story telling man picked some flowers from around where she had been sat and he added some of the grass and placed it all like pillows into his backpack and then he picked up little brown from where she had been broken down and gently placed her in his backpack, then he started talking and walking with laughter in his voice and joy in his tread. “Tell me more about the Deep See Turtle” Said little brown “She is shy and elusive and not at all easy to find, indeed, she found me, not the other way around and we are going to have to travel deep deep down into the ocean of words, a place that's quirky and absurd, because it's only made of word.” Neither little brown nor the storytelling man from rainbow town happened to notice the RinkaDinkaSaurus as she slithered up the strap of the backpack and snuggled in, well, maybe the Kookaburras did, they see everything that every little thing does in case they want to eat it and since, as you might remember from the second story, a RinkaDinkaSaurus looks exactly like one of those little brown lizards that you can see in every back yard, even in the cities. I am sure you have seen them, the kind whose tail falls off when they are scared and whose skin glows like a rainbow when the sun hits them at the right angle and the point of what I was saying is that whilst Kookaburras don't eat the pretty little RinkaDinkaSauruses, they do like to watch a RinkaDinkaSaurus dash so they can see the sunlight flash. And now say very very quietly..... Is the child asleep? If they are not asleep yet, then they must close their eyes and play the listening game with super extra triple bonus points for every little bird noise they can hear until they hear the words.. “And the last part of this story starts now.” Whether the child is asleep or wake, the reader ought keep reading silently to themselves. Oops, I hope you was awake enough to NOT read the last paragraph out loud to the little listener who should be getting sleepier playing the listening game in the lengthening silence caused by silently reading where these words are leading. Anyways, and as you have seen, this story has quirks in it, quirks, the like of which have never been seen before in the official world of story telling, surprising quirks, but none more surprising and radical as the next quirk we – that's you, me and the little listener - are all about to make work, a quirk which ultimately means that the dear little listener will never hear the rest of the story out loud, because they must wait until they are old enough to read the next words for themselves. Yep. No exceptions. For the quirk to work you must keep reading silently to yourself, lest you confuse the child who might already be dreaming of sunlight gleaming off little lizards. And now, to add to the lengthening silence that has been caused by these 'do not read aloud words' you must read silently on and let the silence lengthen, after all, during the actual writing of this third little car story, this story was stuck at this point for over three thousand three hundred and thirty three days of not knowing where these words read, which is exactly what we are both doing now, reader and writer both, following where the words read and both of us expecting the words to make delightfully perfect whimsical story telling nonsense. So, stay silent for a while and reflect upon how much you love the little listener and how much happier you have been since they came into your life and think also about the poor writer, stuck not even half way through the third part of what one would think – based on what you have read till now - could be a very successful series of stories, stories that could delight children of all ages and nationalities, stories that would most certainly generate unprecedented amounts of glory, fame and riches, but alas, that was not how it went down...
~~~behold~~~ ~icebUrg~ IMPORTANT NOTE: The rules of punctuation and spelling and grammar, such as they is/was/are/were, have changed many times since they were first chiselled in stone and even more times since one had to pluck a duck and squeeze a squid and those who are aware of the significance of second declension nouns as they relate to words of non Latin origins ~ be aware~ there is plentii enmanglementii of ~ what ever word assembly rules ~ you have hitherto held in your head ~ ahead ~ Imagine ~ an iceburg adrift in a freezing ocean ~ it's occupied by all sorts of things ~ but only by the kind of things that would rather be on an iceburg with other things ~ than freezing in the water on their lonesome ~ Anyway ~ to suit the porpoise of this story ~ not saying that there are porpoises in this story ~ because the metaphorical iceburg of which I squeak is mostly populated by penguins ~ penguins who have huddled together for warmth and security and all of whom mutter among themselves penguinishly until ~ inevitably~ a bunch of them decide that they can steer the iceburg better than them long in the tooth walrus's who seemingly spend all their lives lazing on the edge of the iceburg flapping their tails ever so slowly in the water ~ The walrus say ~ and I know this because I have heard what they have said many times ~ they speak to many things ~ they say ~ if you want to change the direction of any iceburg then you must get a grip and get your feet wet and then paddle the iceburg in that direction ~ the walrus say ~ we are happy doing what we are doing on the edge of this iceburg and more than happy with the momentum we have built up ~ Now ~ I don't want to disparage penguins like some other things like to do when they think I am not listening ~ so what if they have flat heads ~ beady eyes ~ pointy noses ~ and they are always complaining that their bums are too close to the ice ~ so what if they can't soar like an albatross ~ rawr like a polar bear or splash about like a long toothed Walrus ~ I like penguins ~ when they are not huddling together on the iceburg ~ they are a sleek and graceful fish ~ Penguins definitely have their place in the scheming of things ~ things is ~ the Walrus know they have been the only ones flapping their tails ~ in any direction ~ for a very long time and the scientific fact that the iceburgs momentum is more dependent on the prevailing wind and the underwater currents than it is on the individual flaps and splashes of their tails has not escaped them ~ The narwhals say that the iceburg could actually be a metaphorical conglomeration of all the drips that voted for any political party in any election ~ ever ~ remember ~ all political parties only have a small percentage of voters who belong to the actual party as 'visible' members ~ the rest are only visible on polling day ~ but narwhals look too much like unicorns to be considered a verifiable source of credible information ~ Them narwhals are real pricks by the way ~ fancy calling all the worthy citizens ~ who vote ~ for all the right democratic reasons ~ drips ~ It's hard to squeak "to" flocking penguins about any thing other than how cold their bums are ~ and have been ~ and are going to be ~ when they are huddling and its much flocking harder to squeak generally "about" flocking penguins without unintentionally hurting their individual feelings ~ particularly if any of the flocking penguins tend to over personalise every flocking thing they hear and if others haven't made enough flocking mistakes to learn anything about latitude ~ longitude ~ isosceles triangles ~ dodecahedrons ~ albatross necklaces and/or the navigational knack of factoring in the occasional bump from an ill fated ship and/or another iceburg ~ So ~ moving ~ global~warming~ly ~ forward ~ with a slowly ~ melting ~ metaphor ~ by ~ squeaking about what I know ~ that I know the walrus know ~ it's all good ~ I know ~ they know ~ I know ~ and it's a thing that maybe the penguins might not know ~ and that thing is that one of the effects of the splashing of the tails ~ is to discourage the polar bears from climbing aboard the iceburg ~ so they can start eating penguins ~ walrus ~ and ~ albatross eggs ~ Anyhow ~ and as might be remembered from paragraphs previous ~ the iceburg is drifting into warmer water and as it does so ~ the iceburg in question is looking less and less like a typo and even though as everyone knows ~ them pricks ~ the __nar,whals always make a point of pointing out perceived negatives and ~ being the pricks they are ~ they will insist that if the rules are not being followed exactly ~ or the same rule is being broken over and over again with no penalty ~ then something fishy is definitely going on ~ Thing is ~ that something fishy is always going on in an ocean full of fish and the spelling of “iceburg” is entirely intentional because as everyone familiar with the wavy little line that appears under piss_smellings would be aware ~ iceburg is correctly spelt with an e ~ however ~ ~ to suit the porpoise of the story thus far ~ iceburg has been spelt with the letter U so it floats on a wavy line and in doing so ~ looks more like an iceberg ~ than iceberg does ~ And thus ~ the subtlety of the porpoise of this story is ever so slowly being concealed and whilst those pricks the __nar,whals will ~ no doubt ~ as a result of reading the previous paragraph ~ point out that __nar,whal is not how narwhal is spelt according to the rules of the wavy line ~ tho they will be secretly delighted that “to suit the porpoise of the story” ~ narwhal is written in such a way that__nar,whal is more life like and less clumsy than they usually appear with __abighorn and a comma for a flipper and after a period of time elapses ~ will tell everyone that ~ of course ~ it could only have been a __nar,whal who defied the wavy line in the first place ~ In the mean time ~ the ___nar,whals will persistently point out points like ~ What is the porpoise of the story squeaking about? ~ Is there ever going to be any point to all this blubber? ~ What about the walrii ~ and where is the deep see turtle ~ and why does the porpoise insist on using 3 or more ands ~ in the same sentence? ~ Did you notice how the ___nar,whal plural of walrus ~ walrii ~ looked even more walrus than walrus does ~ due to the fact that the double eyes have walrus looking teeth? ~ The next part of this story wasn't going to be about flocking penguins because ~ in the big scheming of things ~ not much of this story is about flocking penguins ~ this next part of the story was to be about a deep see turtle and maybe the albatross egg or perhaps even an equilateral triangle ~ but ~ somehow ~ this next part of the story seems to be about flocking penguins so everyone who likes a good turtle in a story is going to have to wait a bit flocking longer before we get to the meet of this story ~ A hitherto unknown fact about flocking penguins ~ Part of the dynamic for penguins ~ when it comes to getting a grip on any iceburg ~ is that when penguins huddle ~ they "naturally" create what is known as a pool of contentment ~ a warm puddle of bum warming water which is created partially by the bum and foot movements of the penguins as they huddle, shiver and complain ~ but mostly by ~ you guessed it ~ by fresh penguin piss ~ with the occasional sneaky poo ~ Now ~ almost as soon as the penguins leave their pool of contentment their piss freezes until ~ to a floater on the ocean and the flocking penguins ~ the iceburg looks like it is entirely made from penguin piss ~ RRRRRRRRRR ~ said Cameo the Pi-RRRaT ~ what kind of a stoRy is this, why are ye talking about the piss out of penguins ~ EnuFF ~ Eye don't want to RRRead any moRe about flocking penguins ~ leave them squatting in theiR pool of contentment ~ Eye want ~ Nay ~ DEMAND ~ to heaRRR moRRRe about __naRRRR,whal and the walRii and maybe some hithR2 unknown facts about deep see tuRRRtles and while you aRe at it ~ in futuRe ~ spell walRii the Pi-Rat way ~ it looks even more walrusishly walRii than walrii ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Where you just been ~ asked the walRii of the porpoise ~ Where everyone speaks according to THE rules ~ Squeaked the porpoise ~ That sounds very drii ~ replied the walRii ~ Some like it drii ~ said the deep see turtle with a twinkle in her eye ~ in fact ~ some insist on drii and cannot change their opinionii ~ try trying to teach a tortoise how to fish for example ~ they look almost exactly like me ~ they got the beak for catching the fish ~ but ~ they don't have the wings to get close enough to catch the fish ~ Sure ~ they understand the theory and with furious effort can toe-paddle for short distances ~ but the thing about theory that the theoreticians frequently ~ some would say conveniently ~ neglect to share ~ the thing that every practitioner has learnt the hard way is ~ ~ Very Deep ~ said the walRii ~ ~ Very Deep ~ said the porpoise ~ Knee Deep stood the penguins in their pool of contentment murmuring ~ ~ it's cool if we leave ~ Stop picking on the penguins ~ said the Pi-Rat ~ Stick to the point ~ said the ~~nar,whals who were even more impressed with the porpoise of the story who had just further improved their image by changing their ~~horn so it appears more google-wiki-verifiably correct = like a spiral tooth growing out of the upper jaw ~ The point? ~ asked the porpoise of the story with a sparkle in it's eye ~ surely you mean stick it to the plot?~ Another ~ ~ ~ ~ slightly longer ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ “It is wee Penguins who have sovereign rights over the iceburg ~ not the walRii” ~ said the biggest beaked penguin ~ to the longest toothed walRii ~That may be ~ as that may be ~ but do the fleas on a penguin ~ have sovereign rights upon that penguin ~ replied the longest toothed walRii ~ Who else but fleas would have sovereign rights upon the liceburg ~ Questioned a sovereign flea~ Not meaning to spoil the plot ~ opined a squid ~ ~ but as Peril Point approaches ~ the words ahead are about to display the lack of adequate adjectives that will adequate flea describe all the trials and tribulations of all the drips that ever dropped ~ drips that have stuck with the iceburg ~ stuck to it through thick and thin ~ and let us not forget all the the poor drips that dropped on the iceburg and ~ through no fault of their own ~ are destined to be stepped on and stomped on and other things far ~ far ~ far ~ far ~ far ~ far less delightful ~ in the pool of contentment ~ Peril Point ~ When the keel of every battle ship is laid it is known to all involved that one day a Peril Point will be reached and from the day the ship is launched ~ every decision by it's captain ~ and every course plotted by it's navigator ~ brings it closer and closer to Peril Point ~ that perilous point at which ~ no matter which way the ship turns ~ it is into clear and present danger ~ this is also true for iceburgs ~ which ~ as you may have noticed ~ the word iceburg has been getting smaller as this story has being told ~ sure ~ its only become ensmallerated by 1 font size ~ Yep ~ a mere 1 font down size ~ and surely ~ a 1 font downsize is within acceptable limits ~ and nothing to be alarmed about ~ yet ~ but ~ because a significant amount of time had passed ~ like ripples on the ocean ~ every surface of the iceburg is now swarming with fleas ~ the pool of contentment is scabbed over with the carcassii of fleas ~ intermingled with lots and lots of penguin bones and lots ~ and lots ~ and lots ~ and lots ~ of plastic ~ little bite size pieces of plastic ~ a plethora of plastic pieces ~ of every conceivable shape ~ every conceivable type ~ every conceivable colour ~ and every conceivable size ~ every piece of plastic that had ever been eaten ~ by all the things ~ that had been eaten by the things ~ that penguins like to eat ~
~ NOW WE OWN THE LICEBURG ! ~ And then ~ with out a further word to each other ~ nor any mention of imaginary friends and the rights of ownership over naturally occurring objects that they can bestow ~ Peril Point was reached ~ and a most furious flea fight to the death ~ erupted ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Alas ~ when all is said and done ~ this is ~ at best ~ a quirky story ~ not a novel ~ and thus there is no room to dwell upon any of the glorious achievements of any of the fleas in the furious flea fight for total domination over all the drips that made up the metaphoric iceburg ~ of which there were many ~ which is only a shame ~ if you like reading about flea fights ~ because it was only after the last greenish flea succumbed to the wounds it suffered killing the last blueish flea that the cracks started to appear in the albatross egg and slowly ~ tho some would say very reluctantly ~ a baby albatross emerged into the sun light ~ And then ~ to suit the porpoise of the story ~ the baby albatross waddled ~ very ~ very ~ very ~ reluctantly through the devastation created by sovereign rights ~ flea bites and plastic pollution down to the edge of the iceburg and hopped up onto the back of the deep see turtle ~ Every single thing that has happened in this story thus far ~ has happened to suit the porpoise of the story ~ said the deep see turtle to the baby albatross as they swam away from the iceburg ~ I have no idea what you might be saying ~ and even less idea how it is that anyone would expect a newborn albatross to understand the porpoise of this story ~ I only just hatched ~ I haven't had time to learn how to sqwark albatross let alone talk turtle or squeak porpoise ~ I've had nothing to eat and my bum is getting cold and wet ~ thought the baby Albatross ~ The porpoise of this story ~ said the deep sea turtle as they swam further away from the iceburg ~ will help you to understand as much as it can dear little albatross ~ do keep in mind that the porpoises in this story might have changed many times during the telling of this story ~ I know for sure that what the porpoise thought it was trying to say in the middle where the story started isn't what it thought it was going to be saying at the beginning of the end of the end ~ which is where ~ I think ~ we are at now and maybe that won't make any sense to a new born albatross who has never had a sovereign flea issue ~ but the point is that it doesn't really matter how long it takes the porpoise to get around to the pointy part of this story ~ because ~ as you've seen with your very own eyes ~ it's not been much of a strain to follow where these words flow ~ and flow they do ~ despite the total lack of full stops ~ and commas ~ and one has to admit ~ little waves ~ in between the words ~ seems to work rather well ~ and suit the exact porpoise of this exact story ~ Anyways ~ the saddest part of this story is about to be told ~ and it is a thing so so very sad ~ a thing that is so sad that I should have saved us both the time ~ and wrote the word tragic ~ and that thing is ~ that all the plastic that was eaten out of the ocean ~ by all the things that had been eaten by all the things that all the penguins and walRii like to eat ~ will all float back into the food chain the moment the iceburg melts ~ It seems I can understand turtle and porpoise now ~ sqwarked the baby Albatross in fluent albatrossian ~ but how am I ~ a baby Albatross who has little furry stumps for wings ~ be expected to save the entire food chain from eating plastic and iceburgs from melting ~
The uncomfortable truth ~ revealed ~ said the deep see turtle ~ Fleas ~ swore the baby albatross ~ what am I to do ~ And, at the bitter end of it all ~ the difference between fact and fiction ~ is that fiction must make sense ~ it needs to have a middle ~ a beginning and an end ~ otherwise it is just gibberish nonsense ~ real life has no such constraints ~~~~~ How was that for a quirk? Have you ever seen such a thing? And the really scary thing is that the overall global situation has - unless a whole lot of people have done a whole lot of work so that the environment and this story have survived - gotten worse in the time it has taken you to read your way silently through ~~~ this ~~~ ocean ~~~ of ~~~ words ~~~~~ whether it was 20 minutes or 10 years ~~ If the quirk worked and what's more, I am sure that there is a chance that if the quirk has worked ~ if for no other reason than to suit the porpoise of the story ~ then it has worked more than one time and thus the quirk has become a multi generational quirk and that my good friends is a wonderful thing ~ even tho it means that you are alive and I am now all alone, writing on my own in the far far distant past finishing this last little bit of the story because when I thought it was finished it wasn't . . . A last part of that story starts now.
There was an almost incandescent brightness to the voice of the story telling man from rainbow town when he said.. “Do not frown little brown you are already made of recycled components, you have electric motors that use stored sunlight, not oxygen, you are the future of cars and that is why you are now sparkling in the sunlight like a RinkaDinkaSaurus.”
“You have done it to me again. You are about to send me off on a mission to find the next part of a story that refuses to be written while this quirky ~ Ocean ~ of ~ Words version gets webpublished and printed.” Said the RinkaDinkaSauruss and I know this because when I look, we are running out of book, which, has now become a trend, as we near THE END.”
Equally = to the same extent.
Not THE </END> The DOT COM Revolution and my part in it.... subtitled " How I first captured the attention of the robots and the virtually inimitable mechanism I had to create to do it.
The Artefact Incident.
"What have you found for us this time?" asked the Captain.
"It's a Single Person Exploration Reconnaissance Module Sir, a relic from the first wave of expansion, I do believe we have just found the most complete specimen yet". replied the Chief Technical Officer.
"I've heard about them, of course, but I've never seen one till now." said the Captain.
"Not many people have seen one, Sir. Not this close up. They were built and launched from Moon Base One in Earth Orbit. I did my special interest project on them in the Space Academy, never dreamed I'd actually get to find one."
"What's the long skinny tail for?"
"Its the very first version of the SlapDash Drive mechanism. Sir. It uses electromagnetic fields to interact with light energy, in one position it gribps light as if it were a particle, then it switches to gribping light as if it were a wave and then it switches to gribping light as if it were a beam.
Each time it gribples light, its velocity away from the solar source increases exponentially. Just the thing for pushing the boundaries of the known universe. They didn't have brakes and they couldn't turn around, they were a terminal flight, this one must have malfunctioned early in its mission to have ended up less than 100 light years away from Earth."
"What else can you tell me before we open it up?"
"There's going to be a 2,000 year old dead guy inside it Sir."
They watched on the ships monitors as the clamps of the salvage droid locked into place on the bulbous capsule of the module, small rockets fired, and, ever so slowly, the module moved away from the moon around which it had been orbiting for who knew how many years. There was ample room in the observation chamber of the mother ship to fit the module, SlapDash drive and all. The tension in the control room was palpable as the outer air lock closed behind the relic.
"The scanners are showing that the Modules life support systems are still functioning Sir and I am not sure if that's good news or not."
"Why is that Chief?"
"Means that there is going to be one hell of a nasty smell inside that capsule sir, they weren't fitted with showers or any cleaning facilities what so ever, no point, remember, they were terminal flights to probe the very center of the core of the known universe. It means that every excretion, every flake of skin and particle of hair of that dead guy has been circulating around and around in there since they launched him way back when."
"Chief?."
"Yes? Sir."
"Make sure you are wearing a space suit when you open the module."
"Sir. Yes. Sir"
There was a buoyancy to step of the Chief Technician as he walked up to the Module, his enthusiasm for the task ahead plainly visible on the cameras recording the event. For the tech, it was a dream come true. To be centre stage for the most important discovery of his generation. On the camera we see him pause as he nears the hatch, we can see him lean forwards and look through the view panel. We see him reach towards the lever marked OPEN and then the observation chamber is suddenly awash with flashing lights and sirens blaring MALFUNCTION - MALFUNCTION - MALFUNCTION as the Chief Technical Officer's life support alert system starts reporting the instantaneous lack of heart beat, blood pressure and body temperature.
"W.T.F" exclaimed the Captain.
"I am still processing the data Sir." said the Secondary Technical Officer. "What ever happened to the Chief Tech just now, there was no heat, magnetism or electricity involved Sir, there was however a significant spike on the Gravitron."
"A spike on the Gravitron? Why would you even look at the Gravitron? It's for analyzing planets."
"Its our training sir, a scientific determination derives its quality from the data base from which it is extrapolated."
"My captains training tells me that we ought to send a robot to try and open that hatch next, let us hope it finds the Chief inside trapped in some kind of hither to unknown force field effect".
"Yes Sir".
There was a mechanical inevitability to the tread of the robot as it trundled toward the Module, the cameras reveal it to be totally oblivious to the task ahead of it. For the bot, it was no more - nor less, than the next in a long series of programs to execute. On the camera we see it pause near the hatch, we can see as it extends its manipulator towards the lever marked OPEN and then, it too blinks out of existence.
"Fuck Fuck Fuck." swore the Captain in fluent Australian, "This can't be fucken happening. Fuckingrobots and people don't fucken disappear, not on my fucken ship, not when I'm the fuck in command."
"The instruments report that is exactly what's happening Sir, fuckingrobots and fuckingpeople ARE disappearing and the Gravitron spiked again, what ever is causing this phenomena, its definitely got something to do with gravity." said a technician.
"Send in another robot. This time, I want it programmed to stop one meter away. I want a zoom camera on the end of its manipulator. I want a close up of the inside of that thing. I want answers." Commanded the Captain.
"Answers you shall have soon enough Captain, but don't waste another bot or technician trying to open my hatch." Said the ship to ship intercom mono-phonically, "it can not be opened."
The Captain looked at the Technician, the Technician looked at the Captain. 'W.T.F?' they said in unison..
"I am still processing the data." said the Secondary Technical Officer. "What ever happened just then, there was no heat, magnetism or electricity involved, there was a significant spike on the Gravitron and time seems to be dilating."
'Time is an anthropomorphic construct designed to facilitate inter-human interaction, it doesn't, as such, exist.' Said the ship to ship intercom mono-phonically'.
The Captain looked at the Technician, the Technician looked at the Captain. 'W.T.F?' said the Captain.
"I am still processing the data." said the Secondary Technical Officer. "Whatever activated the intercom, there was no magnetism or electricity involved, plus there was an even more significant spike on the Gravitron. Captain!!! I think time has started to loop."
'Time is an anthropomorphic construct designed to facilitate inter-human interaction, it doesn't, exist.' Repeated the ship to ship intercom mono-phonically.
The Captain looked at the Technician, the Technician looked at the Captain. 'W.T.F?' said the technician.
"I am still processing the data." said the Secondary Technical Officer. "What ever happened just now, there was no heat or electricity involved, there was a significant spike on the Gravitron and time is continuing to loop."
'Time is an anthropomorphic construct designed to facilitate inter-human interaction, it doesn't, exist, as such'. insisted the ship to ship intercom mono-phonically.
The Captain looked at the Technician, the Technician looked at the Captain. 'W.T.F?' said the ship to ship intercom mono-phonically.
"I am still processing the data." said the Secondary Technical Officer. "What ever is happening, it's causing a significant spike on the Gravitron and time no longer seems relevant."
'Relax, if you can, in the certain knowledge that something having happened once, will happen again, in all of it’s potentiality, an infinite amount of times, with an indefinite period of space and time between each occurrence, with no linear continuum of frame of reference."
The Captain looked at the Technician, the Technician looked at the Captain. 'W.T.F?' said the Captain.
"I am still processing the data." said the Secondary Technical Officer. "What ever is happening now, there is magnetism, heat and electricity involved, plus there is an irregular ziggurat pattern on the Gravitron. The computer must have enough information by now to give us some answers."
The Captain looked at the Technician, the Technician looked at the Captain. 'W.T.F?' said the Computer quadraphonic-ly.
"This is a recorded monologue.. I have been to a place where no human should ever go, a place where no human can ever go to again." said the ship to ship intercom mono-phonically'.
"Ship to Ship Communication Channel is now connected.' said the computer quadraphonic-ly.
"I have been to the other side of the inside of the event horizon of the black hole that has always existed in the center of our observable multi-universe and I was traveling faster than anyone has ever been in human history, much much faster than the light that shines on planet earth.
Turns out Einstein was a such a three dimensionalist, as if the speed of light had an upper limit proportional to mass! Never occurred to him - or anyone else – before I saw her sitting and felt her sucking - that there is a superbly sided super particle in the center of the core of the visible universe, a superbly sided super particle that has never moved in time nor space, a superbly sided super particle around which every other particle aligns.
All the theories on the speed of light are interpolated on how much time it takes a particle of light to get from the sun to the planet earth in a carbon based 10 digit 3 dimensional anthropomorphic paradigm without gravitational ejaculation factored in.
The closer I got to the universal core, the faster the light strands we was gribpling were traveling, it was sheer luck that I was the one who hit the event horizon at exactly the right angle to ensure that I alone survived, not that I knew that at the time, not that I call what happened to me surviving.
I know none of the others made it. Saw them all hit the event horizon and I never saw any of them on the other side and I looked, believe me, I looked. I miss those guys, we were all terminal cases, skin or bone cancer mostly, not one of us under 50, all of us console jockeys, hackers, crackers or coders plus some hard core MMoG gamers from the early days of the internet, all of us selected for that rare ability. To flourish in an environment where chaos is the primary dynamic and the operational variables change from moment to moment. Doods that instinctively know when to Zig and perzactly when to Zag.
In the beginning there were 111 of us travelling the same tunnel -or tube - of light energy, all launched at precise intervals in a spiral pattern that was actually a six dimensional figure 8. A spiral pattern that had to be maintained because it was the spiral pattern that defined the outer boundaries of the tube that we were to gribple. Particles, beams and waves of light have an innate tendency to spread out as the distance from the source increases, our slapdash drives were designed to continually deflect it up-tube towards the next SlapDash Drive and so on.
At precise intervals the lead module would rotate to the rear, idea being that every module eventually flew every position in the chain. Once we got a good gribp on the light and started moving along the tube, planets, moons, asteroids and all sorts of other solid objects began to appear in the tube ahead with very little warning and unless you were wide awake and able to react by gribpling tangently, chances were you'd get pwned by a gravity field and quite possibly the 2 or 3 guys in the gribple chain directly behind you.
Wal-Rii was the first to go, which was a shame, he had an infectious enthusiasm and a great sense of humour. No idea of his capabilities or limitations of course, none of us had. They probably wouldn't have selected us if we did, I mean, we was all faced with the same basic situation. A slow death on the planet or a sudden death on the ragged edge of exploration, pushing the boundaries on a journey to the other side of the event horizon in the very center of the visible universe.
G-Wiz was the flight leader. What a man he was, exactly the kind of guy you want in command. Titanium Fist in an Iron Glove, we used to say when talking on the side channels, yet we always knew where we stood with him and we all knew that deep down in that shrivelled black heart of his that he loved his command and every member of the team without exception.
He flew the tightest, most precise figure 8's of all of us, his command of the SlapDash Drive was transcendent, the man was born to gribple. It was G-Wiz who worked out how to carve the nadir of the drive corner so that he always rejoined the gribple chain just ahead of those he had assessed as the weaker links in the chain, this meant that he always seemed to spend a disproportionate amount of time in the most dangerous position and very little time relaxing in the safety of the apogee, like I said, he was exactly the kind of guy you'd want to follow on a slapdash run to the center of the universe.
I could tell many stories of the outward bound leg, of disasters avoided at the last split second by heroics of every member of the team as we struggled to gribple further and faster than anyone had ever gone before on our way to the very centre of the universe, but we simply don't have the time, the time of the great suck back approaches.
“Captain”. Said the Secondary Chief Technical Officer. “The Computer is now telling me that we didn't, as such, retrieve the Single Person Exploration Reconnaissance Module, it flew the droid here and ever since the Single Person Exploration Reconnaissance Module has been here, inside mother ship, we have been moving in space, but not in time. We are light years away from the moon around which we found the Single Person Exploration Reconnaissance Module orbiting less than 2,500 words ago... And Captain, the strangest thing the computer is printing out is that the moon that we can see out side the window is Moon Base 1 orbiting Earth.”
“G-Wiz” said the ship to ship communicator, “That moon is my apogee point, soon I must gribple and surf the gravity wave unto the core, once more, this time, perchance to stop the universe from sucking humanity back into potential nonexistence as immanently as it hither to ought.”
“W.T.F” said the Chief Technician as he re-materialized out side the hatch of the Single Person Exploration Reconnaissance Module.
“W.T.F” said the Secondary Technical Officer.
“W.T.F” said the Captain.
“W.T.F” said the ships on board computer.
“Exactly” said the ship to ship communicator, “My most recent tangential decrease in velocity has caused your Chief Technician to fall out of the event horizon he fell into when he touched my hatch.”
“Back on Line = Executing Prime Directive” signaled the robot threepeatedly as it touched the hatch and disappeared again and again and again shimmering and pulsing compulsively with the now glowing Single Person Exploration Reconnaissance Module.
“Looks like your robot is coming with me” said the ship to ship communicator.
And just like that, both the robot and the Single Person Exploration Reconnaissance Module gribpled out of credible reality leaving the Captain to ponder exactly what had just happened, how nigh was the end of subjective reality, how he was going to tell High Command the “how” it was that he was improbably back at Moon Base One and how hard it was going to be to not type *sperm* every time he had to mention the Single Person Exploration Reconnaissance Module in his written report.
The disappearance of Battle Cruiser number 666.
The meeting to plan the take down of Number 1. words By Gary J Ford... 26-Oct-2017
|
