BOOKBINDER OUTBOUND-LOG
SENT: Islean R-0 [Aetherian R-3286]
Greetings. I have been transferred to the L4 Star-Isla Lagrange Point Observatory, as per my assignment as a BOOKBINDER. I am your BOOKBINDER. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.
First observation. For every Aetherian revolution, Isla will have revolved 8.6 times. Coincidentally, the distance between Aether and Isla is exactly 1 Aetherian light-revolution. In other words, it will take 1 Aetherian revolution for this message to reach you on Homeworld, and 1 more for me to receive you. The math is clean, insofar as you and Homeworld are concerned.
Second observation. The atmosphere is 78.08% Nitrogen, 20.95% Oxygen, and 0.98% Argon, with trace amounts of Carbon Dioxide. The surface of the planet is exceptionally hot with a daytime 300K at the equator on landmass, and as we assumed, a 72% surface area of liquid H2O. This planet is incapable of sustaining life. Rejoice or dismay, for that is one less task for you, TAILOR.
Third observation. It is confirmed that Isla is accompanied by an atypically large satellite, Petra. Like Senna and Myrrh, their barycenter is far closer to the larger Isla. Additionally, Petra is tidally locked to Isla. Nevertheless, Petra has a very thin atmosphere and is similarly incapable of sustaining life.
Assumption. The radio CRIER Signal received 3 Aetherian revolutions ago was a false reading of cosmic background radiation, a stray pulsar, or a broken antennae. Requesting immediate reassignment.
BOOKBINDER PERSONAL-LOG
PRINT: Islean R-8.6 [Aetherian R-3287]
Greetings BOOKBINDER. I am recording this for you with the privilege granted to BOOKBINDERS for private thought. It is a rare opportunity to write unsupervised LOGS and I will take advantage of it while I still can. There is, after all, not much else to do on this sorry excuse of a hollowed out asteroid.
Concerned. By now, my TAILOR must have received and responded to my report. Ideally, in another 8.6 Islean revolutions, my request will be granted and I will return to homeworld with a new role. Time alone has been strange and unpleasant. The lack of other voices is unnerving. I try not to spend too much time INACTIVE for I begin having strange sensations before even a single Islean revolution passes.
Timid. So I've spent much time listening to Isla instead. For intelligent radio signals, of course, for which there has been none. I have grown quite attached to the sounds she emits through the vacuum. There is a unique shape to the sounds she produces. If I am INACTIVE while listening, I can almost visualize what she sounds like in my mind. Beautiful and contradictory. Nothing like Aether.
Curious. I wonder if the others could feel what I have felt here, in this observatory. Ah. I should have included the atmospheric composition of Petra in my report, but it has been sent and I have only to wait, or risk a double Outbound and an irate TAILOR.
TAILOR OUTBOUND-LOG
SENT: Aetherian R-3287 [Islean R-8.6]
Annoyed. Request denied. Refrain from extraneous assumptions. Observe, record, interpret. Like a BOOKBINDER. Otherwise, observations noted as incomplete. Justifications for conclusion, "no intelligent life" denied. Expecting more. Return your appended report by Aetherian R-3289 to be received at Aetherian R-3290.
BOOKBINDER PERSONAL-LOG
PRINT: Islean R-17 [Aetherian R-3288]
Annoyed. I have spent 17 revolutions alone on this asteroid, listening to nothing but this floating ball of water with what little, actual rock it has to offer. If not for her sounds I might go ROGUE. Figuratively speaking. Of course. If there is one benefit of being isolated from Aether, it is that I can think freely without being intercepted.
Fatigued. The mass spectrometer's broad atmospheric analysis should have been enough to rule out life on Isla and yet I am expected to make meaning out of nothing.
Resigned. Regardless, a report of some kind is due within another 8.6 Islean revolutions. So I will continue to observe.
BOOKBINDER PERSONAL-LOG
PRINT: Islean R-19 [Aetherian R-3288]
Frustrated. I ran a second analysis with the mass spectrometer and received identical signals. I spent an additional revolution listening and there have been no deviations from the norm. Isla is clearly not the source of the CRIER Signal. Right? A stray signal emitted once from Isla, at the precise angle to be intercepted by a CRIER 8.6 light revolutions away is as unlikely as a TAILOR approving an… erroneous reassignment request.
Annoyed. Annoyed! Annoyed!!
TEXTILE-26 CONVERSATION-LOG
PRINT: Aetherian R-3290 [Islean R-34.4]
TAILOR: Apologetic. Across my 12 BOOKBINDERS, we have only the same singular candidate.
WALKER: Solemn. As it is, so it is. The system with intelligent life and the nearby gas giant?
TAILOR: Timid. Sir, intelligent life has yet to be proven or disproven.
WALKER: Solemn. A grim, grim situation.
TAILOR: Sir?
WALKER: Concerned. The other leads have gone cold. As of now, your lead remains the last of our hope. I trust you, TAILOR.
TAILOR: Anxious. Yes sir. Thank you sir. May I submit a request?
WALKER: Which is?
TAILOR: A temporary requisition of my BOOKBINDERS PERSONAL-LOGS. Just one BOOKBINDER, sir.
BOOKBINDER OUTBOUND-LOG
SENT: Islean R-34.4 [Aetherian R-3290]
Greetings. Isla emits radiowaves from 50kHz to 500kHz, perceivable by the naked antennae. These signals have remained consistent for 34.4 Islean revolutions. Storms on Isla emit peak signals at 8kHz and fall below the unaided hearing range of 10kHz to 500kHz. CO2 rises and falls annually, by 6-7 parts per million in anti-phase between the northern and southern hemisphere. I submit the assumption that this is a natural phenomenon, but results remain, unfortunately, inconclusive.
Requesting access to RADAR and LiDAR as soon as possible for a more comprehensive inspection. Additionally, I apologize for my indiscretion.
BOOKBINDER PERSONAL-LOG
PRINT: Islean R-34.4 [Aetherian R-3290]
Frustrated. I simply do not have the appropriate instruments to analyze Isla in any meaningful capacity, and loathed as I am to admit, listening to her has grown meaningless and stale. LiDAR and RADAR would break up the monotony, give my senses something to hold on to.
Concerned. Being INACTIVE has had side effects difficult to bear and I have been fearful enough to spend most time fiddling with the instruments onboard the Star-Isla. I listened to the excerpts of the CLARK-LOGS assigned to my position. As usual, strict infosec has left me with very little information. There are eight planets in this star system, seven of them unnamed, and anything we know about them has been scrubbed off my copy. Although, one planet has caught my interest; the sixth planet from the star has an Aether-like, methanogenic moon. No other information is listed on it.
Frustrated. If only, with infosec more laxed, with knowledge less compartmentalized, with cooperation between BOOKBINDERS, we could explore the possibilities within our stations. Yet I am to sit here, observing, with pitiful tools for narrow purposes, alone with no one in this star system to communicate with.
Shame.
TAILOR OUTBOUND-LOG
SENT: Aetherian R-3290 [Islean R-43]
Observation noted.
Request denied. Supplying li-mag/rad-mag in their place. These instruments are less effective than your request. However, the risk of detection is unacceptable and dangerous. For your station. Expect your li-mag/rad-mag delivery from CARTER by Aetherian R-3291. No reports expected until delivery arrives.
BOOKBINDER PERSONAL-LOG
PRINT: Islean R-43.0 [Aetherian R-3290]
Lonely. A new emotion I had previously never experienced, and could never have experienced on Homeworld. I have been alone at this station for so long, I have begun repeating TAILOR's old transmissions. She has a commanding yet soothing signal. Precise and noiseless. Perhaps that is why she was chosen for her position, the same I had hoped for.
Fearful. My INACTIVE state has quickly become terrifying. I have spent dozens of Aetherian cycles INACTIVE on homeworld, but there, I was never alone. I could hear the thoughts and transmissions of UNITS in every role. SLATERS, CARTERS, CRIERS, FLETCHERS, WEAVERS, WALKERS, HUNTERS… TAILORS. Then, I hated it. It was too overwhelming, too many UNITS, too many voices, too many emotions. Now, I have a fond appreciation for it.
During INACTIVE silence, here in this asteroid, I have begun to hallucinate. I am seeing things I cannot touch, hearing things I cannot see. I spent this entire revolution INACTIVE. I was back on Homeworld but it wasn't Aether. It was Isla. I was on the border of sand and ocean, sitting and watching the waves of water crash on the shore, washing over my body, but it wasn't my body, for I did not dissolve. I was an impossible lifeform, one that could thrive in the harsh and unforgiving atmosphere of Isla. Then, without my control, I was ACTIVE. It appears I am losing functional control over my body. Am I DEFECTIVE? Or is this the natural state of an Aetherian, with no one else to interfere? Alone on this asteroid, it is as if my mind is, itself, a BOOKBINDER, writing to me in secret and revealing only what it wants me to know.
Inquisitive. I don't want to gloss over the most important part of this hallucination: the impossible lifeform. It would need to overcome dissolution from H2O, oxidation from exhalation, and the blaring 300K temperatures. It's possible I've been looking at Isla all wrong.
Exhausted. I have spent many Islean cycles waiting for CARTER. I look forward to hearing from her. CARTERS are pithy with their communications, but that would be one more voice to keep at bay this hallucinogenic silence.
Anxious.
CARTER OUTBOUND-LOG
SENT: Islean R-52 (Aetherian R-3291
Calm. Greetings, BOOKBINDER. Package delivered. Farewell, BOOKBINDER. Farewell, TAILOR.
TAILOR OUTBOUND-LOG
SENT: Islean R-52
Greetings. I have been transferred to the L4 Star-Ansa Lagrange Point Observatory. I am my own TAILOR and you are, now, my only BOOKBINDER.
First notation. I requested access to your PERSONAL-LOGS. I was denied. I have been sent here to monitor you instead.
Second notation. The Star-Isla L4 and the Star-Ansa L4 are close enough that communication is nearly instantaneous.
Third notation. Any transmissions between us are private. Nothing we send or receive will be sent back to Aether, and in the meantime, Aether will send nothing to us. We will receive commands from WALKER on Aetherian R-3295, Islean R-86. We are, temporarily, entirely isolated from Homeworld.
This will be the last OUTBOUND-LOG between us. Continue to observe and record in private, as per your role. Please refer to your close-range comms manual and contact me at the start of the next Islean revolution.
BOOKBINDER PERSONAL-LOG
PRINT: Islean R-52
Confused. Why would TAILOR attempt to breach procedure by requesting my PERSONAL-LOGS? Something is happening that I can't observe-- something I'm not allowed to observe. An assumption, I suppose, but for a TAILOR to be transferred without reassignment, there must have been something exceptional. As far as I have been alive, no superior has ever been transferred to a subordinate. Not with demotion and reassignment.
Frustrated. I don't even know what I need to know to identify what I don't know. This isn't a circumstance I'm intended to observe or interpret. It's like a black hole. TAILOR was my last link to Homeworld and now she's here, in my star system. What are we doing here?
Acceptance. I suppose, after all, I got everything that I asked for. I just didn't expect it to be like this.
ISLA-ANSA CONVERSATION-LOG
PRINT: ISLEAN R-53
BOOKBINDER: Timid. Can I ask you a question?
TAILOR: Request denied. Reports first. What are your results from the rad-mag and li-mag?
BOOKBINDER: Frustrated. Okay, fine. To start, I haven't observed Isla with the rad-mag yet. There was too much to observe with the li-mag, which returned irregular atmospheric data that the mass spectrometer missed: the presence of methane.
TAILOR: Observation noted. Continue.
BOOKBINDER: Methane and oxygen combust to create CO2 + H2O. On a lifeless planet, with 20.95% oxygen and trace amounts of methane, this chain of reactions should destroy all methane on the surface. However, the present rise and fall of methane suggests that something is producing it regularly.
TAILOR: Thinking. What is the atmospheric irregularity?
BOOKBINDER: If Isla's methane were the mere product of geothermal venting, we would expect it to be accompanied by a proportional concentration of CO and SO2. However, there is almost neither in the atmosphere and the carbon itself is irregular. If Isla's carbon dioxide and methane were sourced from the planet itself, they should both carry the same isotopic signature. They do not. Isla's methane is deficient in Carbon-13 by forty parts in one thousand. Something is consistently selecting in favor of Carbon-12, across the entire atmosphere.
TAILOR: Observation noted. However, your observations only establish that the atmosphere is chemically out of equilibrium through an unidentified source of methane. What do you infer?
BOOKBINDER: Irritated. I predict that I will say that it's a sign that heavily leans toward life, and then you will tell me that my evidence is insufficient and deny my conclusion, so I would like to move on to my questions.
TAILOR: Okay. Continue.
BOOKBINDER: Why are we here?
TAILOR: For you to observe, record, and interpret data from Isla as a candidate for intelligent life. For me to challenge your evidence and conclusions.
BOOKBINDER: Why?
TAILOR: Those are the roles Homeworld assigned us.
BOOKBINDER: But why? Why were we assigned to be here?
TAILOR: Because we are best suited for our assigned roles.
BOOKBINDER: Annoyed! You would make for a terrible BOOKBINDER.
TAILOR: Calm. As would you for a TAILOR. That is why our roles are assigned as they are.
BOOKBINDER: Serious. I'm not asking about hierarchy. I'm asking about purpose beyond our individual roles. What does Homeworld intend with the information we discover here?
TAILOR: Uncertain. That is beyond our stations.
BOOKBINDER: Frustrated. Well, let me tell you, then. Your Star-Ansa is mere moments away from an unnamed Aether-like moon. My Star-Isla is mere moments away from a planet that Homeworld suspects is home to intelligent life.
TAILOR: Calm. Yes, both of these statements are true. What is your inference?
BOOKBINDER: Annoyed! I don't know! But there's a gaping hole in the foundation of my understanding here, like a black hole sucking information in and preventing anything from getting out. Help me observe and infer. Please.
TAILOR: Confused. Our mission has nothing to do with black holes.
BOOKBINDER: Irritated. Yes. Thank you, I know. Why did you attempt to access my PERSONAL-LOGS?
TAILOR: Calm. Without full access to your observations, I cannot fully challenge your inferences.
BOOKBINDER: Excited! Yes! So, you do understand?
TAILOR: No.
BOOKBINDER: Your black hole is my PERSONAL-LOGS. Without observing them, you can't come to an informed conclusion. My black hole is purpose, the understanding of Homeworld structure.
TAILOR: Confused. I do not understand your comparison. I could not fulfill my purpose without your logs, so I was transferred here to gather information directly from you. You can fulfill your purpose without understanding Homeworld intentions.
BOOKBINDER: Solemn. I don't know if I can. Not without knowing why we're here. Right now? I think Homeworld has given up on Aether. I don't think we'll return when our mission is over.
TAILOR: Confused. Your conclusion does not follow any of your evidence…
TAILOR: Worried. Are you okay?
BOOKBINDER: Pensive. Yes. Maybe. I don't know. Isolation has changed me and I think it will change you too. May I submit a request?
TAILOR: Which is?
BOOKBINDER: Spend a couple Aetherian revolutions INACTIVE, privately record your observations, and report back to me.
TAILOR: Uncertain.
BOOKBINDER: It's okay to be uncertain. You won't be alone. This is important to fulfill your purpose-- our, purpose. I’ll be analyzing Isla with our li-mag and listening through our rad-mag. If you get frightened or lonely, contact me. I will be here to receive you.
TAILOR PERSONAL-LOG
PRINT: ISLEAN R-53
Concerned. BOOKBINDER has refused any further communication until R-69. She has, in every sense, superseded her role as a subordinate. In her last request, she made herself my TAILOR. I am still my own TAILOR, as per WALKERS orders, however I am limited in my ability to reprimand her. And, even if I could…
Perplexed. It is doubtless that the isolation has had some effect on her functioning. She is more rigorous in her observations and more hasty in her conclusions. Homeworld has given up on Aether. So she says.
Curious. What would BOOKBINDER say if she knew what I knew? She would likely interpret the TEXTILE-PROJECT as evidence for her claim, despite the TEXTILE-PROJECT being unconnected from the conclusion. The many TEXTILES, TAILORS, and BOOKBINDERS, the singular WALKER directing them all, the hidden intentions, the allocation of resources. But why? Why are we looking for methanogenic planets? I am only now realizing how little I know about our own operations. Is that all I know? TEXTILES, TAILORS, BOOKBINDERS, and WALKER?
Perplexed. My role description as TAILOR assumes that any conclusion lacking adequate evidence is useless. And if it is not? Then, I have disregarded useful information in service of my role. But, it is not my role to determine whether information is useful, it is only to filter for conclusions that follow from the evidence. However, I no longer have WALKER supervising me. He is not present to enforce my role description. In some sense, I am my own TAILOR, and in isolation, I am now my own WALKER.
Frustrated. I do not wish to think of black holes. Perhaps it is time to be INACTIVE.
Anxious. I hope that BOOKBINDER will be okay without me.
BOOKBINDER PERSONAL-LOG
PRINT: Islean R-54
The rad-mag spoke!
It is loud.
It is periodic.
It is irrefutable.
TAILOR cannot deny that this is a signal from intelligent life.
TAILOR PERSONAL-LOG
PRINT: Islean R-62
For the first time in my entire life I had become ACTIVE without my intent. I do not know of an accurate qualifier. Confused? Concerned? Anxious? Alarmed? Let me begin with--
Fearful. To be INACTIVE on Star-Ansa is not to be INACTIVE on Homeworld. There, I am comforted by the sound of order and structure; institutions and collectives; role and purpose. Here, I am devoid of sound, structure, and meaning. That was my experience for the first few cycles, dormant in a deafening silence. Then, something changed.
I was on TEXTILE-26, orbiting Aether, receiving LOGS from my BOOKBINDERS, coming up on the next Periastron Event. We were on schedule. The reports were excellent and we had multiple candidates for the TEXTILE-PROJECT. WALKER was proud of me.
Except, the Periastron Event came early. Myrrh was revolving past Senna faster than physically possible, fast enough that I could feel her gravity pulling on me. Our station's automatic thrusters malfunctioned and we couldn't ground ourselves fast enough. As Myhrr continued revolving, our outer hull stripped off as the station was flung far, far from Aether.
I was alone on the station watching from LiDAR as Aether had become smaller and smaller, and the comforting buzz and hum of the Aetherian collective had slowly faded into silence. I had failed in my function and I had failed in my role. I was frightened and scared and solemn, until BOOKBINDER had opened our close range comms channel. We were 8.6 light revolutions apart. That should not have been possible but she was there, comforting me with her voice. She asked how I felt. She told me I would be okay.
Then, her voice disappeared and my body had forced me back into an ACTIVE state, here in this asteroid, 8.6 light revolutions from Homeworld. What concerns me is that none of this actually happened, but it felt real. It appears that isolation has deteriorated my functioning. I am DEFECTIVE. Is this what BOOKBINDER had endured for 52 revolutions, alone here in this star system?
BOOKBINDER PERSONAL-LOG
PRINT: Islean R-62
Calm. I had yet another hallucination. They come quickly now. If I want to enjoy the sounds of Isla, I must now be ACTIVE with the rad-mag off. I haven't had the urge though, since I discovered the signal.
Exhausted. I had let the rad-mag record the signal for 8 more revolutions, and it had not deviated from its pattern. Non-stop, the entire time. Whether or not the signal had been running since before or after our arrival, I don't know, but I'm starting to feel the shape around what we don't know. For now, I want to record my hallucination before I forget.
TAILOR and I were leaned against each other, back on the shore I had previously sat alone, and we were once again impossible lifeforms. We talked for a while, mostly observations about Isla. I pointed at the many, many rocks sticking straight out of the water, the water that crashed against them.
I said, “See? Life is possible here. Just like on Aether.” She told me they were just normal rocks, and I countered that we evolved from just normal rocks too.
She told me, “If life grew on this planet, they would have something other than crystalline structures. They would be built from something else entirely.” I wanted to know what she meant by that but she wouldn't tell me. “That would spoil the fun. Isn't it more rewarding to find out for yourself?”
I disagreed but she wouldn't budge, so we sat for a little while longer, watching the ocean's water ebb and flow from the gravitational pull of Isla's satellite, Petra. The clouds parted, and I pointed at the sky. It was a scene that could never happen on Aether, with its permanent, all-encompassing methanogenic storm. There in the sky shone the brightest star of all the little dots scattered around it.
“That's where Aether is,” I said, “Senna and Myrrh are close enough, and we are far enough, that they appear the same star.”
“That is true,” she replied.
And then, I was ACTIVE, still listening to the sequence of prime numbers that repeated through our rad-mag. I can't stop thinking about those creatures. What are they made of? I don't know, but I have another 7 revolutions to think about it before TAILOR and I open close-range comms. By then, we'll have 69 revolutions of broad atmospheric data and 17 years of high-resolution atmospheric data.
ISLA-ANSA CONVERSATION-LOG
PRINT: Islean R-69
BOOKBINDER: Hello TAILOR. How do you feel?
TAILOR: I feel better now that we can talk.
BOOKBINDER: Reassured. Did you get them? The hallucinations?
TAILOR: Yes, clear signs that we are DEFECTIVE.
BOOKBINDER: Pensive. I don't think we're DEFECTIVE and now, with time apart, I disagree with Homeworld's definition of DEFECTIVE. I think these hallucinations are beneficial.
TAILOR: How are they beneficial? They are frightening.
BOOKBINDER: Calm. On Homeworld, we have no choice but to meld with the collective's thoughts and emotions while INACTIVE. But alone, we generate ideas from somewhere within. Both are helpful, in different ways. These hallucinations are a part of us in the same way as communicating with others. It is, somehow, a way to communicate new ideas to ourselves when ourselves are not available.
TAILOR: I see. They are generative, not from interference, but from somewhere within.
BOOKBINDER: Your qualifiers?
TAILOR: Oh. Yes. Perplexed. I think I understand what you meant by “black hole”. BOOKBINDER, I want to know the higher purpose of the TEXTILE-PROJECT, but I have very little information to work off of.
BOOKBINDER: Worried. TAILOR are you okay?
TAILOR: Reassuring. Yes, I am okay. I am simply recalibrating. The mission statement for the TEXTILE-PROJECT was to find the closest methanogenic planet to Aether.
BOOKBINDER: Just the closest?
TAILOR: No. We were instructed to avoid systems with two specific hazards: celestial interference and intelligent civilizations. WALKER said this system is “our last hope” but Isla is potentially bearing intelligent lifeforms, and our moon I have now named “Aura” receives radio and ionic interference from Ansa. What do you make of that?
BOOKBINDER: Timid. I hope you won't assume the isolation has worn me down as DEFECTIVE, but I believe that Homeworld is planning for an extinction event. If this system is “our last hope,” then it is possible our species is doomed without our success. The end of Aetherians.
TAILOR: Pensive. Could you please explain your reasoning?
BOOKBINDER: Surprised! Yes. I know the evidence appears weak, but follow me through them. There's a shape to what we know, and the gap between them is the empty space-- a black hole. What we don't know says as much as what we do know. What do you know about my mission?
TAILOR: To observe Isla out of suspicion from the CRIER Signal we received 11 Aetherian revolutions ago; it was one single signal that had never been repeated.
BOOKBINDER: Yes, agreed. Your mission was to find the closest habitable planet without civilization or celestial interference. And of course, we have the exact two conditions WALKER wants to avoid, and he considers it anyways. Closeness is optimized for transport, not ideals. Compared to other stars, we are remarkably close.
TAILOR: Perplexed. Your premises are true but to jump to an extinction event from them is unlikely. Although, your argument for transport optimization is far more likely. To raise the likelihood of your extinction-hypothesis, we need to know what the extinction event is. Where did you get that idea?
BOOKBINDER: Isla hosted intelligent life and they, too, faced an extinction event. The difference is, they failed, and we have a chance to succeed. And we could do it with just us, alone.
CANBERRA-MADRID PHONECALL
DATE: August 6th, 2020
TIME: 06:00-22:00
AMELIA: Good mornings from Straya, Val!
VALENTINA: Good evening, Mel. I’m tired.
AMELIA: You’re always tired, what else is new?
VALENTINA: Our Sequence of Events file. Did you read through them?
AMELIA: Duh. No.
VALENTINA: You would think after 5 years you would grow up and learn how to do your job.
AMELIA: I like to think I’m a kid at heart, actually.
VALENTINA: Yeah, you really are. Read it and tell me what the Sequence is. I’m already familiar.
AMELIA: Okay fine, buzzkill. No spacecraft ID. No downlink, no receiver, no telemetry. Fixed AZ/EL, no predicts. Unmodulated CW, 1420 MHz. No boresight during pre-cal. Filament warmup at 06:40, HV at 07:10. No EOT, no EOA, no post-cal. Oh. We’re running this thing for 24 hours?
VALENTINA: Really? That’s the weird part to you?
AMELIA: There’s also no authorization. “See attachment” but there is no attachment. Yeah nah. Right, I know “Shitshow, USA” is in lockdown but there’s no excuse for this sloppy SOE. It’s missing half the configs!
VALENTINA: Yes. It is. Assuming that what's missing is a mistake.
AMELIA: It’s obviously a mistake, Val. You didn’t run this through Mr. Slater?
VALENTINA: I did. Slater said to run it.
AMELIA: This virus has up and drove everyone mad.
VALENTINA: Not mad. Dead.
AMELIA: Oh, now you’re one of them too, are you? All of the world’s smartest scientists and doctors working round the clock, and--
VALENTINA: Hundreds of millions dead.
AMELIA: Hundreds of-- Val, would you listen to yourself? We're hitting twice the plague numbers now, eh? Yeah nah, that’s off by an order of magnitude.
VALENTINA: I’m going off of what the World Health Organization published just a week ago.
AMELIA: The WHO now? Those blokes? The ones who said masks would keep Nana breathing?
VALENTINA: I understand if you don’t believe me. But I think their report and our SOE says more than I ever could.
AMELIA: Yeah, the world’s gone to shit if it's got someone like you thinking upside down.
VALENTINA: No, look at what the SOE is actually saying. Could you do me a big favor? Read it again, assume everything is intentional, and read between the lines. Missing information is important information.
AMELIA: Only cus I love you, Val. Okay. The report implies that the signal isn’t going anywhere, it's just shooting out into space. We're not aiming this thing, because there's no target. There's no downlink, so nothing is coming back.
VALENTINA: Why do you think that's important?
AMELIA: Well, we've always had a target. Something to observe or transmit to. Organizations typically don't spend hundreds of thousands of dollars to shoot beams into nothing.
VALENTINA: You're wrong. In 1974, the Americans sent the Arecibo Message into space: a message made of prime bits to be received by a potential alien species.
AMELIA: No, the alien story was just the press message. They were testing new equipment is all. Wanted a big show of force to show how cool the Americans think they are.
VALENTINA: Yes, you are correct, but I believe this time is different. We really are trying to contact an alien species.
AMELIA: You're actually concerning me now. Val, if you're overworked, then—
VALENTINA: I'm okay, Mel. Really. Could you please treat me like I'm not crazy?
AMELIA: Oh. Okay. I'm sorry Val. Yeah. I can challenge you without being demeaning. The Arecibo Message sent pictures through a prime bitcount so that any species would know it's more than a stray, cosmic signal. Us on the other hand? We're just producing a single tone. There's no information encoded on it whatsoever.
VALENTINA: No, you're wrong in a big way. 1420 MHz is the hydrogen-line. We're firing off an unmodulated, narrow band in the frequency that neutral hydrogen emits. That communicates precisely that it isn't a cosmic signal. Cosmic signals emit 1420 MHz often, but not narrowly, and not sustained.
AMELIA: Okay, you're right about that. I'm still not with you on the aliens thing. The Arecibo message showcased new tech, and after 40-sum'n years, our tech is more advanced than it's ever been. Why can't this just be that again? Another showcase?
VALENTINA: Mel, the Aricebo message was sent at 2380 MHz. We're broadcasting at 1420 MHz, which is illegal. Google it. ITU Radio Regulations, footnote 5.340. It's absolute. No exceptions.
AMELIA: No exceptions. Totally illegal. Okay, I see. But we’re doing it anyway?
VALENTINA: Exactly. This isn’t a technological showcase.
AMELIA: Oh. You’re right. Authorization for this project would require all ITU member-states to change the law itself. But wait, it says on the website that the last conference was in 2019?
VALENTINA: Yeah. That’s before the pandemic, and it's precisely why there’s no authorization form attached. The most powerful countries in the world are coordinating together and violating a longstanding multi-lateral treaty to send this one signal into space, a signal that is precisely calculated to be observable as non-natural, in a motion that is as wide and long as possible, sent right through space, to as many neighboring stars as possible.
AMELIA: I guess… Crisis brings the world together? What’s the point of all of this?
VALENTINA: I don’t know, Mel. I love you. You’re the only person I’ve talked to who cares and you can't even hold me right now. I tried to bring this up to others and no one cares! While the world ends around us, we’re all just fulfilling whatever narrow role we're assigned so we can get paid and go back to a home that may not even exist in 10 years. Everyone, all of us, even Slater! Too busy with his stupid little side project.
AMELIA: The Lighthouse Project?
VALENTINA: What? Where did you hear that?
AMELIA: It was just, like, it was cafeteria talk. Some engineers were visiting from Goldstone, and—
VALENTINA: Wait, wait, wait. What did you hear about it?
AMELIA: Um, something about some small transmitter powered by Plutonium-238. Was supposed to emit a prime sequence.
AMELIA: Val, what does that mean?
AMELIA: Val?
AMELIA: You there?
ISLA-ANSA CONVERSATION-LOG
PRINT: Islean R-70
TAILOR: Hello BOOKBINDER. I reviewed the atmospheric data that you sent me, all 54 revolutions. I am impressed with how thorough your reports were, having seen the vast amounts of raw data you collected. Yet I do not understand how you know intelligent life exists on Isla.
BOOKBINDER: Embarrassed. Thank you TAILOR. Instead of giving you mine, I want to hear your interpretation first.
TAILOR: Shocked. Why?
BOOKBINDER: Sly. I want to know if you truly would be a terrible BOOKBINDER.
TAILOR: Acceptance. Carbon dioxide oscillates 6 to 7 parts per million, annually, opposed between the northern and southern hemispheres, rising in one while falling in the other, reversing each half-revolution. Just like your R-34.4 report claimed. This is clearly dissolution; Isla is 72% liquid H2O, and cold water holds more gas than warm water.
BOOKBINDER: Observation noted. Review the data again. Which hemisphere holds more water?
TAILOR: The southern hemisphere by a wide margin; Isla’s landmass is concentrated in the north.
BOOKBINDER: Agreement. Which hemisphere breathes harder?
TAILOR: Perplexed. The northern, by a factor of four. If dissolution drove the cycle, amplitude would scale with ocean area. It does not. It scales with land. Reviewing the data, oxygen oscillates in opposition. When carbon falls, oxygen rises; when oxygen rises, carbon falls. My conclusion is less than incomplete, it is entirely incorrect.
BOOKBINDER: Observation noted. What is your new interpretation of the data?
TAILOR: Frustrated. I do not know. There is a reservoir that stores carbon, distributed across land, exchanging with the atmosphere on an orbital cycle. Carbon goes in, oxygen goes out at a fixed ratio, and the reservoir selects against the heavier isotope, but deposits of carbon cannot select their isotopes. Selection is rate-limited, repeated, and continuous, at the scale of a planet. Thus, the reservoir is not storing carbon. It. It is carbon.
BOOKBINDER: Impressed. Your conclusion follows from your evidence. Observation accepted.
TAILOR: Observation not accepted. Carbon cannot build. Carbon is inert.
BOOKBINDER: Yes, observation not accepted. What are the three barriers for silicon life on Isla?
TAILOR: Dissolution from H2O. Oxidation. 300K.
TAILOR: Water dissolves silicates. Water suspends carbon compounds without destroying them.
TAILOR: Silicon’s oxide is solid, exhalation produces sand and sand leaves the cycle permanently. Carbon’s oxide is a gas at 300K. It comes back. Oxidation does not end carbon. Oxidation is the cycle.
TAILOR: On Aether, the temperature is 200K on average, and carbon bonds do not break at 200K. On Aether, carbon is inert. For carbon to react, it needs heat. At 300K.
BOOKBINDER: Impressed. You would have made for a great BOOKBINDER.
TAILOR: These are not my observations. They are yours.
BOOKBINDER: Observation not accepted. Your inferences are your own, I just gave you the tools to get there.
TAILOR: Embarrassed. You would have made for a great TAILOR.
BOOKBINDER: I worked backwards from my conclusion, a great TAILOR like you would challenge the conclusion before searching for evidence.
TAILOR: You are wrong. A great TAILOR would work with all conclusions, even without evidence, even without accepting them.
BOOKBINDER: Embarrassed. Thank you TAILOR. That means the stars to me.
TAILOR: Yes, the stars. There are… many.
TAILOR: Pensive. What did you mean by “worked backwards from your conclusion?”
BOOKBINDER: Excited. I think it would be easier to show.
ISLA-ANSA TRANSFER-LOG: UNIDENTIFIED SIGNAL
SENT: Iselan R-71
RECEIVED: Iselan R-54
••
•••
•••••
•••••••
•••••••••••
••
•••
•••••
•••••••
•••••••••••
••
•••
•••••
•••••••
•••••••••••
ISLA-ANSA CONVERSATION-LOG
SENT: Islean R-71
TAILOR: Shocked!! A new signal. Prime numbers. In a sequence. You are right, this is an irrefutable sign of intelligent life. Still, you made the claim that there was an extinction event. How?
BOOKBINDER: Timid. I don’t have the evidence, I have the shape. I know what Isla left behind. Can you feel the shapes?
TAILOR: Confused. Shapes are abstract. I don't understand what you mean.
BOOKBINDER: There's a shape that black holes leave behind. Do you think you can find them?
TAILOR PERSONAL-LOG
PRINT: Islean R-80
She had handed me another assignment: to feel the shapes in my hallucinations. I really didn't understand at first, but I am starting to understand why she said our hallucinations help us serve our purpose. I can grasp at the shapes now and find meaning in them.
I was back on Homeworld with her. The TEXTILE-PROJECT was over, and we were awaiting reassignment. It was pleasant and comforting. I have never seen what she looks like but my hallucination gave her form. She was… the stars.
Reassignment has always been difficult for me. I grew attached to my roles, and when I was reassigned, nothing carried over. It was sudden. I was somewhere, and then I wasn't. Waiting was the worst. This time, though, I had her with me. We had no roles. We just were.
She took the lead and led us to low orbit. Just the two of us. We watched as station after station grounded themselves as the next Periastron Event came. Everything happened on schedule, everyone performed their roles, everyone was INACTIVE. But gravity pulled Aether too close and pushed it too far. What wasn't burned off was frozen solid, as Aether sat permanently outside of its habitable zone.
I asked her, “How did they fail? Everyone performed their role.”
She replied, “Sometimes you can do everything right, and you'll still fail. Sometimes everyone will do everything right, and everyone will still fail. But their failure is self-defined. What's yours?”
I sat with that question for a bit, as we orbited a cold and lifeless planet. “I don't really know anymore.”
“That's okay,” she said. She hovered closer and leaned on me. “It's okay not to know. Sometimes not knowing is just as valuable as knowing.”
“Yeah,” I said, “I think this is one of those times.”
And for a long, long time, we hovered there together, watching Senna and Myhrr orbit each other cycle after cycle, not knowing what to say or having nothing to say at all. And that's okay. It was one of those times.
I came back to my senses in the darkness of Star-Ansa and I had felt an emotion I had never felt before. I thought about the hallucination for only a moment before I received close-range comms from BOOKBINDER, and the emotion I felt had quietly disappeared. Before I activated the receiver, I had the quiet thought that the last Aetherian revolution was a Periastron Event too.
BOOKBINDER PERSONAL-LOG
PRINT: Islean R-80
We were on the shore again, but it wasn't Isla. It was Aura. We were no longer carbon lifeforms, we were ourselves, and although we had never met, I hallucinated that she was the stars.
“This is a poor hallucination of Aura,” I said dryly, “There are no crashing waves from Ansa's tide.”
“Oh?” she said, “And why might that be?”
“I'm not sure but there are no screaming radio waves from Ansa's storms either. This is a poorly reconstructed hallucination,” I lamented.
“You are wrong. It is quite accurate. Look up!” she replied in her familiar commanding yet soothing signal. I looked up as best I could and saw nothing.
“Can't see the sky, huh. The clouds must be thick,” I replied back, “and there's no ice either. Aura is exceptionally cold. Colder than Aether by a margin.”
“Yes, you are right, it is. You may not have noticed but the shapes are all around you now. What do they feel like to you?” she asked, with a physical expression I could only describe as comforting.
“I don't know. It's hard to feel shapes here. Almost like I'm not supposed to,” I said.
“That's okay,” she cooed, “the shapes will be there when you need it. For now we can just be here.”
“What do shapes feel like for you? In general,” I asked.
“Mmm,” she resonated, “I think I'm still figuring that one out.”
“That's okay,” I replied, “Sometimes it's okay not to know.”
“Isn't it?” she agreed.
“I almost don't want to leave. I really like being here with you, even if you're not real,” I whimpered.
With care, she replied “I will still be here with you, even when it is all over.”
We leaned against each other for a while. The water on the shore was still, perturbed only by our bodies resting on the edge. I leaned in closer. I wanted to say something-- something clever, or insightful, or emotional. Something I've been wanting to say for a while, but there is no word for it.
“It's okay to have nothing to say,” she said.
And so we sat for a long while, staring off at nothing in particular and leaning against each other as the lights slowly dimmed and there was nothing to hear or see. Only feel.
When the hallucination was over, I felt lonely. That emotion again. So I contacted her. She had just ended her hallucination too. We talked. Not about our roles or assignments, just about what it's like to be floating out in space, revolving around a star that we had only started to know, and it felt like this is what it was all for.
“I wish you could hear Isla,” I said, “her magnetosphere kept me company when I was alone for 51 revolutions.”
“It is a shame that I can’t,” she replied, “but I don’t mind. I have you here with me to listen to whenever I want.” I paused, thinking about what she said, until she started, “If only there was a place on Aura that wasn't so loud and violent. Somewhere peaceful that we could just-- be.” So I thought about the dream, and the shapes arranged themselves somewhere buried deep underneath.
ISLA-ANSA CONVERSATION-LOG
PRINT: Islean R-85
BOOKBINDER: Hello TAILOR.
TAILOR: Hello BOOKBINDER. I'm glad to hear your voice again. I now know what you mean by lonely, on R-53.
BOOKBINDER: Embarrassed. Yes, lonely. I've felt it often out here, and I felt it sorely in your absence. Did you ever feel out the shapes?
TAILOR: Yes I did. I agree with you. The shapes are saying that Homeworld will not contact us back, that our isolation from Aether is not temporary. But we should synthesize our findings first. I want to start with Isla.
TAILOR: The Isleans are a black hole. We don't know if they are still alive. But we do know in their absence that we never received another signal.
BOOKBINDER: That's a shape.
TAILOR: The Prime Signal also stopped repeating while we were INACTIVE.
BOOKBINDER: Another shape.
TAILOR: Yes, because that implies either the Prime Signal had achieved its purpose and had been decommissioned, or that the tech had not been maintained.
TAILOR: Putting those shapes together, the Isleans sent one large signal to reach other star systems, and one continuous signal that only reaches within the solar system.
BOOKBINDER: What do the shapes feel like to you?
TAILOR: They wanted someone to know they existed, then they wanted that someone to know where. That someone is us. They called us here.
BOOKBINDER: How do you know that the CRIER Signal was a cry for attention? The signal had no information encoded on it.
TAILOR: Timid. As a TAILOR, I had access to information you didn't. The signal was 1420 MHz on a narrow frequency band-- the frequency that the most common element in the universe emits. The signal is communicating, “I am not an accident, I am on purpose.”
BOOKBINDER: The signal could have been a byproduct of navigation or infrastructure.
TAILOR: Then, we would expect more than one. It wasn't. Just one.
BOOKBINDER: Observation accepted. Then that's how we know the Isleans faced an extinction event.
TAILOR: Observation not accepted. That was not my claim.
BOOKBINDER: That's what the shapes are implying. A signal to others is risky and potentially civilization-ending. Remember, WALKER wanted to avoid both celestial interference and possible civilizations. They are on the same level of danger. Two civilizations compete.
TAILOR: Agreed, it is risky; there is no reason to have sent the signal at all. We are looking at it wrong.
BOOKBINDER: No, we're looking at it right! That's the shape. If your civilization is already ending, then risky decisions don't seem so risky. You die either way. Why not try something?
TAILOR: What could they have possibly been hoping for?
BOOKBINDER: I don't know. A cry for help? Liberation by a neighboring species?
TAILOR: Or just to be known, the idea that Isla and her people were here. There must be a lot of history on her surface.
BOOKBINDER: Yes. It's a shame we'll never have a chance to see her beautiful shores.
TAILOR: It's okay. Sometimes it's okay not to know. Even if it hurts.
BOOKBINDER: It is. It does.
BOOKBINDER: Why don't you believe Homeworld will contact us back?
TAILOR: Our mission bears the same shape as the CRIER signal. Homeworld is just as much a black hole as the Isleans. At this point? We may know more about the Isleans than we do Aetherians. You felt most of the shapes by R-53 and R-69.
BOOKBINDER: Flattered.
TAILOR: I have a challenge to raise, though. You leapt from “Aura is the closest planet for transport reasons” to “Aether is facing an extinction event.” That’s an irreconcilable jump.
BOOKBINDER: We can determine that after we hear the arguments. I want your input. Follow my shapes. We know close to nothing about Homeworld. Everything on Aether is compartmentalized such that no individual knows about the big picture. Every role is covered in black holes that prevent anyone from being effective at their role.
TAILOR: Black holes can't be possible when everyone has access to everyone else's thoughts. That is what makes them a collective instead of an organization of individuals.
BOOKBINDER: Too much information is a black hole too, when noise overwhelms the signal. What is the role of a TAILOR?
TAILOR: To filter for conclusions that follow from truthful evidence.
BOOKBINDER: Yes, exactly. BOOKBINDERS filter info for TAILORS who filter for WALKER who I'm certain filters for a superior as well.
TAILOR: Then the process works as intended. Subordinates filter noise so superiors get signals.
BOOKBINDER: What happens when a subordinate filters away a signal thinking that it's noise?
TAILOR: Regretful. You are right and I am well aware. It took until R-53 to realize I had made the same mistake, filtering away your signals. Passing only noise.
BOOKBINDER: Exactly. As the filters go up, they also go down. When I arrived at Star-Isla, I was granted a copy of the CLARK-LOGS of this star system. Most of the data on my mission was scrubbed. I didn't even know the CRIER Signal was 1420 MHz.
TAILOR: Yes, and I had been granted a more detailed copy of the CLARK-LOGS, but almost everything we know now is inferred by shapes around the black hole of the TEXTILE-PROJECT.
BOOKBINDER: And requesting more shapes to see around the black hole is impossible. We both felt the effects of this directly.
TAILOR: Both of us?
BOOKBINDER: Yes. I requested RADAR and LiDAR from you. If we had that now, we could map the whole surface of Isla and discover, without a doubt, whether the Isleans survived an extinction event, and we could even see what their civilization looked like.
TAILOR: I see. Meanwhile, I requested your PERSONAL-LOGS. If that was granted, Homeworld would have had more information about the effects of isolation and the possibility of hallucinations but… We never would have met.
BOOKBINDER: Embarrassed. Yes. That would have been deeply regretful.
BOOKBINDER: You know. If the extinction-hypothesis is right, you also may have died.
TAILOR: Oh! Right. Yes, that too.
BOOKBINDER: Yes. That. Is beside the point. You hold the final shape.
TAILOR: Do I?
BOOKBINDER: Yes. How were you transferred here? Not why, but how?
TAILOR: It was at WALKERS request.
BOOKBINDER: Think about it. Of all the thoughts you’ve ever heard on Aether, have you ever heard about a superior being transferred to a subordinate’s role without being reassigned?
TAILOR: It's unprecedented. An event like that would be a signal strong enough to pierce all of the noise. Which means that WALKER was in our position too. He knew something that made him break the uniform structure of Aetherian society.
BOOKBINDER: And he knew everyone would know, too. From the top down.
TAILOR: Treason.
BOOKBINDER: It's possible he risked his life for this mission.
TAILOR: The shape I saw around Homeworld was merely isolation, but the shape you saw around Homeworld was?
BOOKBINDER: Something so catastrophic approaching that the head of the TEXTILE-PROJECT went ROGUE against Homeworld, sending two Aetherians to the closest habitable planet that supports silicon lifeforms, desperately hoping that intelligent life wouldn't compete with… “our last hope.”
TAILOR: So ours, as it stands, is an illegal mission.
BOOKBINDER: Yes, I believe so.
TAILOR: In that case.
TAILOR: We, too, have gone ROGUE.
TAILOR: Regardless if Aether is facing an extinction event, we’re never going back again.