| part 8.6 or so... |
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| 07:49pm 30/08/2004 |
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The zero gravity sex was worth every but of hype I’d heard about it. In fact, I decided that several field trials were needed to confirm. After that, however, it was business as usual, or so I thought. However, everything seemed to metaphorically be cleaned up neat and tidy when I returned. The Hods were nowhere to be seen. Neither was Verg Cliop. He seemed to have retired to his chamber with an accordion of some sort.
I was curious about Cliop. He seemed to harbor some deep-seeded resentment toward the nitrogen breathers, because it was supposed to be an inert gas. Nevertheless, he had an alibi, and I’d already decided that Url was the culprit. Somehow, the mission still seemed to be going as planned, despite the lack of nitrogen breathers. Aside from the Hods, they weren’t very much fun. However, those Hods really knew how to party. This would have come in handy as we were approaching the amoral and utterly decadent planet of Blifipmitz near Rigel. I decided that it would be best if my boyfriend stayed on the ship, and decided to take Verg Cliop for the landing party. He was big, and evil looking, at least by human standards. He was, apparently quite good looking on his home planet, and many girls carried trading cards with his image.
Blifipmitz totally lied up to its reputation as the wildest planet in the universe. Imagine the most annoying disco club you can possibly imagine, make it the size of a planet, and add aliens, and perhaps you will have a vague idea of how insane it was. It attracted an awful lot of humans, too. In fact, I was almost embarrassed at the amount of stupid humans. I was also embarrassed because I wasn’t really dressed for the part. Still, having Verg by my side really helped my image.
“Why are we landing here?” he said.
“We have to replenish the nitrogen breathers on our crew,” I said. He rolled his eyes. “To equally represent all kinds of respiration,” I elaborated.
“Is this really necessary?” he said.
“It’s in the Charter,” I said.
“Look, strange earth woman, you’re now rogue from the senate. You’ve pissed the Hods off, and no self-respecting Hod is going to join us on this trip anymore. In fact, they’re probably going to still try to kill you.”
“This isn’t about the senate or the Hod’s. It’s about the language. We have to have all the components. Besides, there’s got to be a rebellious Hod or two, and if they’re anywhere, they’re on this planet. So, let’s go see if we can find him.”
Verg glowered with all six of his eyes, but I couldn’t help but notice that he had brought his accordion with, and I must admit, I was curious to know what he did with it. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that to him, because our relationship changed drastically after our trip to this planet. |
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| Personal Log, Specialist Verg Kliop, No. 3 |
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| 09:29pm 26/07/2004 |
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The elimination of the Hods may have more repercussions than I originally calculated. The Captain has been summoned to appear before the Interplanetary Discrimination Committee to face charges of Nitrogenpulmonism, Hod warships (the Captain does not even know they maintain a secret fleet) are searching for us, and the Terran Senate is threatening to withdraw funding unless 1/8 of the Universal language is promptly completed. Rather than focus on these real problems, the Captain is engaging in free fall monkey sex with Cle Elum, without even the suggestion of an accordion. Fortunately, the Captain seems to think Cle’s presence is responsible for the convenient demise of the Nitrogen breathers. I will make use of that.
Well, as the Captain is otherwise engaged and I must keep this mission going until I get my orders, I took steps to resolve these little problems. I forged a Hod communiqué to their home world. It states that they uncovered intelligence that their traditional enemy, the Xanc, is attempting to sabotage this mission as part of an overall plan to eliminate the Hod. It explains that they believe a human, Cle Elum, was hired to stow away on the voyage and kill them. Finally, it states that the mission, largely due to me, has made great progress in developing the Universal language, but completion is essential to Hod interests, especially on Psion 3. Hopefully, this will stop the Hod fleet from destroying this ship and Hod agents will smooth things over with the Discrimination Committee. Finally, as Hods can’t stop talking (I really do hate them) the Terrans will get their monkey hands on the communiqué and believe real progress is being made so they won’t stop funding. (Terrans believe stolen Hod intelleigence far more trhan their own reports, but who can blame them?). If only they knew that to date we have come up with three articles, one adverb, two nouns, and 17 different punctuation marks, they would end this mission in a moment. At the very least, the Commission may be assured that no one will be aware of Cliop involvement in the Hods’ convenient demise.
While I wait to see how communiqué works out, I will ivestigate the strange silence of the Hydrogen breathers on this voyage. I never trusted them. |
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| Chapter Version 4.6 |
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| 06:16pm 27/07/2004 |
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“Damnit, Cle!” I said, scowling at the man who was supposed to be my ex-lover.
“You’ve jeopardized this mission. Do you realize what you’ve done?”
“I was only going to hitch a ride to the next galaxy, or so.”
“This isn’t a fucking galactic shuttle!” I shrieked, now that we were in the privacy of our own quarters. “Now it seems that your presence on this ship shifted the atmosphere enough to kill all of the nitrogen breathers.”
“I don’t think I’d trust that computer as far as I could throw it.”
“This whole ship is the computer, and it happens to go pretty far, I may add. It also supplies the vital oxygen that we need to keep going, here, so I suggest you be nice, Cle.”
“Well, there’s something quite… off about it, if you ask me,” he said.
“Then why did you listen to it and tag along in the first place?” I asked. “One human! There’s only supposed to be ONE HUMAN ABOARD!”
“It’s just,” he said, reaching for a lame excuse, “I’ve never gotten laid in Zero G before. You know. I wanted to try it, just once.”
To tell the truth, I’d never gotten laid in zero gravity before, either. In fact, the thought was vaguely tantalizing. Still, I shook my head violently to clear it. “That’s not what this mission is about!” I snapped. “I’ve never gotten laid by a Cliop, before. That doesn’t mean it has to happen on this voyage.”
Cle raised one eyebrow suggestively, but the look on my face silenced whatever comment he was about to make. He took a deep breath, then started a new thread of conversation. “Maybe you just need to calm down for a second,” he said.
“Calm down?” I was shrieking, again. “CALM DOWN??? I’m going to have the Interplanetary Discrimination Committee bringing charges of Nitrogenpulmonism against me. I’ve got seven accidental deaths to explain, including the Hods. That’s the worst one of all. The Hod we had with us was Imperial Royalty, and they are all warlords. We’re not even the equivalent of an earth week out, and the Senate is already threatening to pull funding unless we have an eighth of the language written. How do you measure an eighth of a living language that’s constantly growing? Like they ever get anything done. They’re lucky I’m as far as I am.” My lips were turning blue as I spewed out this tirade of complaints before heaving a deep breath to replenish my oxygen supply. I couldn’t even bring up the fact that the computer was blackmailing me in return for pseudosexual favors, and that I was fairly sure someone was trying to sabotage this mission.
“They could take your ship away?” Cle asked, looking suddenly rather sheepish.
“No!” I suddenly snapped, “There’s no way in hell they’re getting this ship! Not while I have a language left to write!”
“That’s the spirit,” Cle said, “Of course, you’ll have the entire Universal fleet after you, and the Hods.
I chewed my lower lip for a bit, weighing the sheer stupidity of going rogue on this mission to create a language that probably 90% of the tangible universe would ever even see much less bother to learn, but this was my legacy! I hadn’t left earth for nothing. “Fuck it!” I said, shamelessly vulgar. “Let’s go to the starboard wing. I think it’s Zero G, there.”
“All right!” Cle said, scurrying to follow my lead.
As Cle and I determined that the Kama Sutra was likely written by someone who had experienced zero gravity before, I thought to myself that this wasn’t how things were supposed to happen, but then again, maybe this was better than what I had planned. “All work and no play makes Stella experience space madness,” I said, between orgasms. I don’t think Cle was paying attention to what I was saying at that particular time. |
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| Personal Log, Specialist Verg Kliop, No. 2 |
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| 05:02pm 20/07/2004 |
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Perhaps I underestimated our Captain. Not only did I observe her amusing herself by cruelly manipulating Url’s connective ends, but she also managed to smuggle her ex-lover Cle Elum aboard. Manipulation of this mission simply for her own sexual gratification is almost worthy of a Commission member. Of course the hairless monkeys engage in the most bizarre sexual practices. They actually are capable of sexual activity without the use of an accordion. No wonder the more advanced civilizations shun them.
Well, at least I am pleased to report that I eliminated the Hods. They are far too distrustful of the Commission and would have interfered with me when I finally have my orders. Of course, I had to kill all the Nitrogen breathers to do that, but they were just a waste of good Nitrogen anyhow. Fortunately, the Captain was so engaged torturing Url, she never suspected a thing. |
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| Chapter 3 or so... |
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| 03:01pm 18/07/2004 |
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mood:  amused
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“Shove it in sideways,” Url was shamelessly begging in a voice of passionate desperation. I bit my tongue and rolled my eyes, suppressing a miserable sigh, as I held a data port near one of Url’s numerous connective ends. I couldn’t contain a growl of disgust as I did what he asked. Url was making some unspeakable noises as I did the deed. The crossed wires from it also causes a shower of sparks to fly from the port, followed by a hideous smell of burnt wiring.
“Everything all right in here?” Verg Cliop peered suspiciously around the door.
“Yeah, just fine,” I said, as I flushed and guiltily withdrew the damaged cord.
Verg looked doubtful, but he slightly changed the subject. “What did the company say about Url’s little malfunction?” Cliop was given to understatement. Url had accidentally shut down the Nitrogenators for the wing of Nitrogen-breathing aliens on our ship, almost killing the lot of them.
The computer’s creators had run a remote diagnostic test, and found no software malfunction. After their communication with the computer was terminated, I did a little bit of investigating on my own. I’d threatened to shut it down, format it, reprogram him, but Url just seemed to enjoy the thought. On a whim, I ran Url through one of the psychological profiles that we gave to the rest of the crew, and it was then that I discovered Url was a pure, unadulterated masochist. I would have sent him back to his maker then and there when an alert showed up on his monitoring systems.
“We have a stow away,” Url had said. He brought the image of the stowaway up on one of its many monitors, and I visibly cringed,
“Cle Elum!” I hissed, under my breath. It was the boyfriend that I had just dumped, and whom I thought I had left back on earth. I ran down to the storage area where he was hiding.
When he saw the look on my face, he smiled sheepishly, “Damn!”
“What are you doing here?” I asked through gritted teeth. “You could jeopardize this whole mission! Are you crazy?”
“Well, I had only intended to just drop you a note in your quarters before you left, but, well, actually, the computer sort of talked me into it.”
“Url!” I shrieked.
“I’ll make you a deal,” said Url, so only I could hear. “For my part, I will no longer mess with the ship’s life-support systems, nor will I divulge about our stowaway, if you promise to feed the little… habit that you’ve discovered today. Clever girl! I knew you’d figure it out, by the way. That’s why I brought him along.”
Hence, the present situation I was in, guiltily holding a sort of bizarre computer torture device, and trying to pretend nothing was happening, as one of my fellow crew members, Verg Cliop, questioned me about the computer’s latest malfunction. “This is going to be a long journey,” I muttered to myself.
As Verg walked away, Url begged, “Do it again, baby.”
“For the one who’s supposed to be the masochist, you sure are fond of giving orders,” I said.
“I’m sorry, mistress! You must punish me.”
“With relish,” I said, and started pulling out various hardware without shutting Url down first. I thought, to myself, “What have I gotten myself into?” |
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| Personal Log, Specialist Verg Kliop, No. 1 |
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| 12:26am 16/07/2004 |
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Personal Log
Specialist Verg Kliop
It is amusing, in a way, that I find myself on this expedition. I find it even more unlikely that I am committing my thoughts to this log in clear violation of all tradecraft. And yet, my masters insist that I maintain this coded personal log for their review when I return. No doubt they intend to compare it to my reports to determine if I have withheld anything. Despite their paranoid fears, I recognize that I will be unable to withhold anything from the Commission, so I will express my thoughts fully and truthfully in this log.
I have mixed feelings about being so close to these hairless monkeys. On one hand I despise them. So large, so hairless, so physically and emotionally weak, it is inconceivable that they survived. Yet, not only did they survive, but also they control the largest empire in the Galaxy, their so-called free trade zone. These weak, naked apes control three times as many planets as the Commission and their treatment of the Silicates is still viewed in all Commission worlds as best example of pest removal policy and techniques in Galactic history.
Perhaps, I would be happier if my mission was clearer. Does the Commission want me to eliminate these fools? Or, must I assist them in this pointless endeavor? Until the Commission determines what it wants me to do, I remain a philologist with felonious if unclear intent. However, until I receive further instructions, I will continue to assist Capt. Skye and her hapless crew, and report ever |
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| Chapter 3 |
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| 07:37pm 16/07/2004 |
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mood:  contemplative
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"Captain?"
"Yes, Url?"
"You know, of course, this is an exercise in futility. right?"
"Shut up," I said, glaring at one of the myriad screens that represented out supercomputer aboard the ship."
"Fine, but I have another question, then."
I rolled my eyes. Two days out in our journey, and I was already having a battle of wits with the computer. The computer almost always won, too. "Go ahead."
"Why did you disable the monitoring devices in your quarters? Wasn't it part of the Senate's charter that you record everything that happens on your journey?"
I frowned. "Nice try, Url. Unfortunately, your reputation preceeds you."
If a computer screen could scowl, this one seemed to, or maybe it was all in his voice. "Who told you?"
"The Lightcrawler," I said, indicating, on the monitor to the creature that was preseently taking inventory in one of our storage bays. This miraculous creature was made entirely of light, and communicated in low-level radiation. It had warned me before we boarded, that the computer had a perverse obsession with Earth women. All of this, i learned with a translating device that rather resembled an ancient Giger Counter.
"I can't help it," Url said, "No creature in my galaxy had breasts!"
"That reminds me," I said, "I need to disconnect the monitor in the showers."
In a show of protest, Url shut himself down.
We weren't even on our official journey, just yet. The senate wanted to have a grand send-off for us, and chose my home planet for the grand party. In a way, I was rather glad, because it would be awhile before I set foot on Terra Firma again.
It was hard to believe what the earth had become. People imagined a stark planet as the future of Earth, but in fact, it was a lush, green, paradise. There had been what were only referred to as "The Dark Times", and what actually transpired during that time is known by none left living. The only thing for certain what that at some point, there were a series of natural disasters, and along with that, the magnetic poles of the earth had switched. Stranger things were alluded to, but people either denied it, or seemed too mad to be trustworthy in their accounts. Needless to say, entire cities were destoryed. Where once there had been suburban blocks lined with maple trees, there were now maple trees with trunks as wide as the houses that had originally dominated the streets. The streets, even, were broken up with fresh, green growth between the cracks. The technology of the time had basically ceased to exist, and people reverted to earlier practices to survive. The land was restored. It was absolutely beautiful!
When space travel became free and economical, those people who could not stand the primitive planet Eath had become flocked to the distant stars in droves. There were planets that attracted the dark and destructive, and planets that attracted the hedonists, and planets that attracted the capital venturers. Meanwhile, the Earth was left to those that truly loved her, and they cared for her well. Visiting this planet, in fact, was rather like seeing the living history of the earth. There were small villages and farms whose inhabitants practised their various trades with an environmental consciousness. They left vast spaces of land where the non-human creatures were free to roam. The cities were abandoned, and left to the wilds to reclaim. I had, in fact, grown up in one of these tiny villages, and happily so, but at last I was going to see the rest of the universe.
This was also the last time I would see my aforementioned boyfriend for a very long time, and I had the dubious task of having to politely break up with him, first. For my part, this farewell gala was not going to be a very pleasant party. |
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| Introduction |
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| 11:21pm 15/07/2004 |
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mood:  creative
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“Webster was a pussy!” I said, as I leaned back in the seat and touched the button that would allow my ship to achieve interstellar space travel. Our first destination was Alpha Centauri. Of course, it was known as this to the human race, from earth. The natives of the first planet we’d officially discovered had life in Alpha Centauri called it something else, which amounted to a series of clicks and chirps. We had a damn hard time communicating with them at all at first, until someone who still, crazily enough, in this technology age, knew Morse Code. Of course, it wasn’t the same as Morse Code, but it was on the same level. It took awhile, but we managed.
At this point, there were volumes of computer dictionaries for the languages of billions of races of alien species, and as we moved deeper into space, new races were discovered daily. It seemed that the one thing we all had in common was also that which could, at times, be most divisive. Every race had its language, but the misunderstandings which came from our inability to communicate between the races was crippling.
Amazingly enough, it took deep space discovery to lead us to look back toward our own planet, and discover the secret languages therein. Using some of the discoveries of alien communication, we were able to decode the languages of dolphins, dogs, and a rare species of cricket. Being the language prodigy I was, while people were deciphering the rather simple language of dog, I, in secondary education, had discovered and written an accurate and comprehensive dissertation on the secret languages of gingko trees, which appeared to be the only communicating plant on the planet Earth at that time.
Naturally, with the accolades from that discovery, by the time I’d graduated from university, five years before most people tended to, I found myself before the Universal Senate, asking for funding for the systematic development of a Universal Language. Within a week, I had my own ship crewed by a group of bizarre lifeforms, and the most advanced computer that any race had ever developed. Trust me. It wasn’t humans that created it. We were still crippled by Microsoft, even centuries later.
Now, it was thought that mathematics would be the universal language for ages, and it made sense before we actually got out into space. However, though all in the universe were bound by the laws of physics, they were not all operating on our base ten system of counting. Not all species possessed ten appendages on which to begin a number system. One of the best mathematical systems came from a group of aliens in the Pleaides who had the equivalent of a base thirty-six number system. Coincidently, this group was actually the first openly admitted to contact with an alien species that the Earth ever had. We learned interstellar space travel from them, and the universe has never been the same since.
Of course, they weren’t the original first contact with an alien species on planet earth. That was actually an alien species hailing from near Polaris that stopped by the earth during its formative years in an effort to catalogue planets in the universe with intelligent life. Their report for Earth was, “Everyone knows that carbon-based lifeforms will never evolve into anything.” Ironically, during the Infinite Axis Wars, we carbon-based lifeforms ended up nearly wiping the Silicon-based lifeforms from near Polaris almost out of existence. After an immense backlash against Earthlings, though, we had learned to get along better with alienkind. It was in our best interest.
Humans had a lot of arrogance and audacity, and I was among them in suggesting to spearhead a mission to create a universal language, but what else could I do? I could keep learning languages and help them add to the huge intergalactic database, but that would never challenge me. Of course, little did I know I had more of a challenge than even I was prepared for, and it wasn’t just in the arena of linguistics. In fact, it would end up having more to do with politics and philosophy than anything else.
I am Ship’s Captain Stella R. Skye, female of the species human from the planet earth in the Milky Way Galaxy, and this is the story of the InterGalactic Ship Babel. |
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