It's easy to get wrapped up in your own little bubble and
forget what's really out there. Forget that you're not the center
of the Universe. Space is the greatest reminder of that.
The emptiness is maddening.
A friend once told me a story about dealing with
his mother's passing. He wanted to burst into tears during
the wake, but kept composure for his family's well-being.
I asked how he managed to control his emotion,
and he responded that all of his attention was directed toward
converting quaternions to angles and back. By diverting
his focus, the emotion was subdued.
I've used this technique often in my life, and have been
doing similar equations for nearly a cycle. It feels as if I've been
on this ship since the beginning of time.
Have I ever really known anyone besides this AI?
Why am I pushing so hard to save my species, when we're nothing
more than a little dot in the cosmos?
I'm tired of searching. I'm tired of these equations.
I've had enough topology and quaternions for ten lifetimes!
Give me a signal!
As if on cue, the meters spring into action.
It's the same reading from the lab, only much stronger.
The alarms are accidentally triggered, causing me
to jump out of my seat. I frantically bash the controls
to silence them. Grav readings are off the charts.
Converting to audible frequency.
A faint electronic gurgling plays through the audivix.
The sound elicits memories of grief and pain.
In this moment I realize that an advanced civilization
did not send those messages. They came from a singular
being. How I know this, I cannot say. It's almost as if the idea
planted itself in my consciousness, and presented itself as fact.
There's something here that no meter
has picked up, but I feel it within. It's the sensation of power.
A distortion of the reality I've grown accustomed to.
Part of me is terrified by this power. The other part yearns for it.
Switching off the audivix brings a strange, lingering tension.
I feel an unnatural shiver inching up my spine. Did it sense
that I turned the readings off? No. You're in your own
head now. Everything's fine. Calm down and keep moving.
released February 17, 2016
Music and Story: Type-I
Album Artist: Martina Stipan
Story Editor: Max Al-Shawbkeh
all rights reserved