Prologue
Erupting from the surface of the ground in a midwest corner of North America, we soar upwards towards the sky, increasing in speed instead of slowing, as gravity would have us, by the power which draws us away. Through the murky clouds in an instant, we are bathed by the brilliant sunlight as that flaming mass careens towards the western horizon. With the thinning atmosphere at this elevation, the air resistance weakens, and we fly even faster, still gaining speed. We break through the ozone layer and are engulfed in the tight vacuum of space. The planet looms behind us, it’s beautiful bulk slowly careening away as we continue to accelerate. The sleepy moon passes us by without so much as a how-do-you-do, but this we disregard, remaining steadfast upon our unfathomable journey ahead. The red surface of Mars streaks past, and we swerve momentarily to circumnavigate the enormity of Jupiter. The remaining planets of our familiar solar system are elsewhere in their orbit, so we exit with no further ado. The greatness of the Milky Way galaxy is composed of a vast nothingness which occupies the space between solar systems, this space being incalculably greater than the space occupied by each star and her satellite planets. We traverse these gaps by the speed of thought, and soon have left several systems behind as we approach the outer rim of the galaxy. Here now on the galactic rim, the greatness of the nothingness which now confronts us is equal in proportions with respect to the distance between galaxies as was the nothingness between star systems within our own tiny galaxy. Undaunted, our velocity is yet boosted to the maximum, and we travel at a hundred thousand times the speed of light or more, passing galaxy after galaxy, off to our left or right, above or below, at distances of hundreds of light years or so. A near miss brings us close enough to see individual stars and some of their larger planets within a smallish galaxy, but they pass quickly, and we are back deep into the vastness. Our maximum velocity is maintained for several hundred heartbeats, and the surrounding galaxies begin to thin. Yet ahead lies many thousands yet to go, and they pass more and more slowly, as the distances between them and us increases exponentially. Here the vacuum of space seems even more empty, with so much nothing around. Eventually, we see one final galaxy ahead and below, with naught else beyond but blackness. That galaxy being soon passed, we turn around and fly backwards to watch as the dimension of the Known Universe is measured by the eye. At first large and brightly lit by innumerable galaxies, an illusion of the mind makes it seem as though the universe itself is shrinking, perhaps in preparation of the next Big Bang; for without external points of reference, we cannot tell that it is we that are shrinking away. Smaller and darker it becomes, as only the few closest galaxies’ light has yet traveled thus far. One by one they wink out. Now only the last remains. A singular point of reference, and all else the deepest despairing black. The last galaxy remains in view for some time, but eventually, it too is engulfed by the penetrating darkness. The silence of space is enhanced by the silence of sight. Not being able to perceive our direction or velocity, the only physical property which retains its measurability is time. A seeming lifetime of it passes as we travel on when almost piercingly, like a cannon firing, the tiniest of lights returns to existence before us. Flickering and weak, it slowly draws closer. We have arrived at the smallest, loneliest, and perhaps the oldest of galaxies, composed of a single star. Being so very old, this star feels her mortality approaching, possibly to wink out forever within the next million years, give or take – a small portion of time in the total lifespan of a star. She has a single planet, orbiting at approximately 7.5 light seconds away. This alone keeps her company through the eternally enduring darkness from which she is a singular exception. Yet she burns faithfully. Admiring her reflected light from the rock, soil, scant foliage and tiny seas that occupy the surface of the planet. Of course, she has no knowledge of the nature of the said rock, soil, etc. She comprehends only her penetrating light, and all else’s penetrating darkness, broken only by this one colorful orb which forever turns… turns… turns… Naught else exists anywhere, to the knowledge of this star. She and her satellite. Alone.
It is a small planet, as far as planets inhabiting life are concerned, with a light gravitational pull. The planet has no moon, no asteroid, not even space debris within its gravitational pull. There are no passing meteors, comets, no luminescent atmospheric gasses from which to light up the night sky. It is a world of utter dual nature. The day, burning brightly – although less so from past eons as the star ages – where vision reveals a spectacular rugged and diverse topography; and the night, with its absolute blackness, absolute silence. It is here that our journey ends, and our story begins.
It has the usual polar ice caps, surrounded by small seas. Seas which run far, far into the depths of the planet’s core. Land covers most of the planet’s surface. A broken surface it is, still scarred from the scorching heat of eons past. Much of the land is still barren and dry, red and baked and nearly devoid of moisture, frequented by enormous sandstorms that would quickly strangulate or bury anything unevolved to weather it. Towards the seas are collars of taiga, appearing more hospitable with foliage and the occasional smaller body of water, yet hospitable it is not. Once the sun had waned into relative coolness, many billion millennia ago, animal and plant life had been able to thrive and multiply. The great irony is that life in all its forms requires the termination of other life to survive, and the species on this planet, by and large, have long been quite adept at this process.
The relatively few species of animal life that inhabit these wildernesses include no vision-oriented nocturnals, for what is there to see in the complete dark? These blind species, awake and hungry at night quietly feel, smell, or attract to heat, hoping to taste a sleeping and vulnerable creature of the day. Occasionally, the night silence is momentarily broken by a surprised cry in the distance of some poor creature, unlucky enough to be awoken by invisible grabbing limbs and teeth to which it has suddenly become prey.
Chapter One
The sun bakes hot over the cracked and red earth, not a stitch of foliage to be seen within miles in any direction. The only sounds to be heard are the constantly blowing winds – which here grunts on occasion as it passes just so through a wind-carved tunnel, the airborne sands as they eternally slice their way through the blasted mountainside, and the nearly indiscernible click-clicking of two territorial exoskeletal tripods as they engage in mortal combat over this particular patch of rusted ground.
Four kilograms apiece (approximately), body camouflage to blend in with the stones on the ground, three equilaterally spaced legs supporting a misshapen oblong torso, two very strong grasping limbs flanking a 12 centimeter pointed projection in the front center, eyelets and olfactory organs located on thin wispy stalks arising from the center hump of the torso, defecation through a centered portal below where the legs conjoin, hearing via thin vibrating membranes spaced between heavy armored plates bilaterally behind the grasping arms, No vocal anatomy whatsoever, as yet undetermined mode of feeding and breeding.
So thought the robot sitting complacently on a boulder, passively viewing the battle from above while recording the intricate biological specificities of species F09972ts3. The robot sighed. His attention wavered for a picosecond, then returned again to the task at hand. One tripod succeeded in turning the other onto its back, and wasted no time in driving its sharp spike in through the other’s anatomical equivalent of an anus, producing a juicy crunch and much limb-thrashing from the hapless victim as it died in anguish.
The robot stretched his neck gears, gazing up into the maroon sky and gauged another three hours of sunlight remaining before the violent sandstorms of night would pick up. Of course the robot was manufactured to withstand virtually any sort of environmental insult, but sandstorms made him itchy, and cleaning up afterwards was always a bugger, so he really would prefer to get back to the protected forestlands to the north and avoid the sandstorms altogether. Now if only the triumphant F09972ts3 male would hurry up and have some victory sex with one of the several F09972ts3 females concealed in the rocks off to the side then get the munchies and eat something, he wouldn’t have to return to this horribly uncomfortable part of the planet for another 300 years or so, and then only to make a quick population tally on the rest of the species in this region. Once the losing male had stilled, the females slowly made their way out of concealment, seemingly unsure of themselves. The male preformed his usual mating oblations, which momentarily raised the robot’s hopes, but the females suddenly became indifferent, unimpressed with his display. For another hour and a half, the robot sat there, the male tripod becoming ever more animated in his ritual, and the females, in all appearances to be sleeping from boredom.
A thought occurred to the robot. Perhaps mating and feeding occurs only at night for species F09972ts3. An upsetting idea, which would require him to remain through the grueling night, and he almost decided to do so. Screw it! He thought. Not tonight. Just not in the mood to chew on sand all night long.
Momentarily upsetting the mating ritual below as he arose from his boulder, the females scurrying off around the corner while the male switched immediately to his defensive stance, the robot trotted away to the north, traversing the 143 kilometers to arrive at the borders of the forest just as the sun was making its final descent towards the horizon. The robot paused at the border of the woods, gazing southeast at the spectacular sunset, filling the sky with brilliant reds oranges and greens, reflecting off the clouds and gasses of the atmosphere. Sunset was always a favorite, ever since his first night on the planet 9,792 homeyears ago.
The colors eventually faded to pastels, then further to the typical complete darkness. The robot switched to infrared vision and entered the forest to abide the night recording migration patterns of a group of co-dependent nocturnal species, a colony of tiny insect-like septopods categorized as K65663ap2, and the single giant lump of slowly rolling baby fungoid B10273ar2. The fungoid naturally supplies nutrients to the colony, while the colony (also fiercely territorial) supplies protection to the vulnerable infantile fungoid. This is one of the few examples of symbiotic coexistence on the planet. Symbiotic to a point, that is. Once the baby B10273ar2 reaches adolescence, it will suddenly sprout any number of legs (depending on genetic strain) and a particularly large set of what suffices just fine for teeth, and consume as much of the colony as it can catch. Its growth rate achieves maximum once it attains sexual maturity, and the adult will continue to grow until its mass can no longer be sustained by the prey it encounters, oftentimes weighing in at an excess of 250 kilograms. Once this maximum mass has been achieved, it will soon disintegrate into thousands of tiny spore balls, and the life cycle will repeat.
The robot finds much more pleasure in this environment categorizing these species than he does in the desert. When he first arrived all shiny and new, still glowing fiery red from entering the atmosphere, he was a fully disciplined and highly ambitious robot, beginning with a complete omnisurvey of the oceans, as per programming, not ceasing or slowing until it was complete. But as the centuries passed, and the robot’s millions of programs became better acquainted with each other, subroutines were written which eventually led to a less than ideal work ethic. The first day he decided to take off of work was only about 2000 Homeyears into the project, soon after the ocean omnisurvey was complete, and right after a particularly nasty run-in with a flying O19549gh6 which he was not allowed (as per programming) to harm, lest he upset the natural ecology of the planet. After the O19549gh6 had her way with him, the robot took the day off to pout. And upon reflecting upon that day several thousand years later, he decided that to commemorate each 100th anniversary of his arrival on planet Furthest, he would take the day off and reboot. Not that rebooting was necessary of course, just refreshing. He has done so ever since.
The night passes uneventfully, and at daybreak the fungoid changes to its stationary jelly-like form while the tetrapods burrow into the ground to abide the day. Slowly, the near silence of night is invaded by the waking sounds of day creatures, relieved to have survived yet another hazardous night’s rest. Surprising, really, that the robot passed the night unmolested – a rare occasion, with all the nocturnal predatory species that abound in the forests. Each have had their turn with him, and each have been sadly disappointed in his lack of edibility; whereas meanwhiles the robot has had great ease in categorizing each of them.
The robot sighs, stretches his gears, then turns south to return to the desert.
Chapter 2
Two hundred and fifty homeyears later, the robot finds himself along the seashore.
His longitudinal studies concerning the colonial growth rate of a peculiar species of microscopic shore-dwelling tubeworms (sp. D39937fe6) is due for an update, so he find himself meticulously measuring and weighing lumps of porous, angular boulders, scanning for population density in each. Several hypotheses regarding the cause of mass dead zones within each boulder are being tested, weighed, and revised, concurrently with a full genetic spectral analysis to compare genome expression rates as compared to their ancestors of over a millennia ago.
Really quite fascinating stuff, thinks the robot to himself.
So fascinating in fact, that he almost doesn’t bother to investigate the sudden lapping sound from behind as some ocean critter creates a stir in the morning tide, disrupting the rhythmic sound of the waves.
Almost.
Still, he casually turned his robotic head to the left and glanced over his shoulder to the beach and saw something that gave him something that could only be described as a shock. Robots aren’t normally subjected to emotions such as surprise, dismay, or even dread, yet what he saw crawling out of the ocean at this time caused all of these to be felt simultaneously. Experiencing these emotions for the first time only served to compound his shock, increasing his unease.
What he saw and thought was this:
Previously uncategorized species(!), oceanic/terranean, exothermic, endoskeletal, tripod(?), soft fleshy forequarters with no fur covering or protection, abdominal transition into ichthyoidal scaly hindquarters ending in a single appendage of fins. Upper appendages composed of classic hominid joints and digits complete with opposable thumbs (signifying heightened intelligence), large fur-covered cranium with large forward-facing eyes (signifying predatorial nature), torso containing centered umbilicus (signifying mammalian species) and twin mammary glands (signifying female). Altogether streamlined and muscular, well adapted for speedy travel through water. Categorization under existing system of classification inoperable due to gross hybridization of conflicting icthyoid and mammalian classes of life. New species categorized as EV3005ae1.
For milliseconds, the robots marveled at this new discovery. He marveled at the impossible (or highly improbable) nature of the genetic combinations required for such a creature to come about. For milliseconds, he calculated the most closely related species from the database of his oceanic omnisurvey, completed not even 8000 homeyears ago, then calculated the time required for genetic recombination to produce a species such as this from that ancestor. For milliseconds he recalculated, confirming the fact that over 8 million homeyears would have been required at the bare minimum to produce this type of life form from the species then present. A million different hypotheses formed at once, or at least within milliseconds, as to how this hybrid species could be right here, right now, baffling all his robotic genius. Foremost on his list was the one which calculated that, given the correct odds (roughly one in a trillion) in his systematic omnisurvey encompassing the span of 2000 homeyears, the random motions of this species’ ancestors never happened to cross his path.
All this while species EV3005ae1 flopped and frolicked in the waves, blissfully unaware of the scrutiny.
The creature jerked suddenly in response to a sharp smack as the rock the robot was studying fell out of his grasp. The robot froze in place, his proverbial robot heart leaping to his throat at the thought that this miraculous find could be scared away too soon to be studied. After a moment of looking about, she resumed tormenting a hapless G45217ts3 in her hands, tossing it to and fro, washing it in the water where it could breath and deeply inflate with fluids, only to draw it out again and squeeze it tightly in her fists, spewing jets of water out all three ends. After each cycle followed a gale of actual laughter! The robot knew what laughter was of course, though only in theory, having been supplied with a basic database of information regarding Homeplanet (he however had never been there, having been fabricated in space on route to Furthest). It was a noise unlike anything that had ever been recorded by his robot ears, and it incited another curious response from his subroutines that he could not define, nor process at the moment due to his servers being completely engaged in studying every detail of her behavior. The G45217ts3 scrambled in a vain attempt to flee, its suckerpods writhing to grip anything to lever itself away, all the while its soft transparent body turning rapidly in all colors of the spectrum – an instinctive defense mechanism advertising a non-possessed internal poison. The laughter stopped as the EV hybrid turned onto her front, propped up on her elbows in the surf, almost affectionately stroking her captive’s underbelly with the fingernails of one hand. Then after a short pause, suddenly sunk her teeth in deeply, taking off an entire limb in one bite. Some rainbow fluids squirted across her face and down her front, staining some portion of her hair and flesh, temporarily making it appear that she herself was changing colors. She chewed noisily, watching almost passively as the gastropod writhed agonizingly in her hands.
Fascinating, thought the robot.
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