It was quiet valued by most. Most of the time it fueled
the asteroid belt Dysfunction ships. Ships with a passenger manifest filled
with anyone diagnosed with antisocial behavior. Behavior that led to such
isolation most everyone was alone. Alone and contained for their respective
destinations. Destinations that decreased with each delivery. Deliveries that
decreased the quantity of antisocial for any chance of a return trip back to
Earth. Earth, the place where antisocial became scarce and travel no longer of
interest to anyone. Anyone and everyone lost the curiosity of exploration and
discovery once antisocial was exhausted. Exhausted by everyone.
Thursday, October 16, 2025
Fueled By Antisocial - a short story
Wednesday, October 1, 2025
The Golden Record - a short story
On September 5, 1977, Voyager 1 was launched to explore the outer planets. The craft exceeded expectations and left our solar system early 2025. Inside the craft are scientific instruments and a key component – the Golden Record, which is an analog encoded phonograph record. It contains medical and scientific information, images and music from Earth, including Mozart’s “The Magic Flute.”
~
The Golden Record - a short story
“What is it?” La sang to her mate.
She and Ti stared at a strange object on their farm. For
several weeks, a warped and misshapen ball of ice melted under the summer heat.
Until it revealed a mystery. Beforehand, it had carved a wide scar across the
entire length of their corn field and rested near their farmhouse. One day, La
and Ti discovered a metal object that had once been encased within the ice.
“Should we open it?” Ti replied an octave lower.
“Not here,” she answered with a harmonious counterpoint
among the syncopated scene.
They hoisted the blackened, grey, and pitted lump of
metal onto a wooden cart pulled by a mule. They sang to the animal with a
melodious request. The gentle beast pulled the cart to the green barn just up a
slight knoll. And there they kept the strange object until morning. The answer
to their question would arrive in their sleep.
The next morning, they had their answer. They loaded up
their cart with provisions and clothes for a long trip to the city – a four-day
journey. La and Ti hummed a tune as their mule pulled them to the next town,
where they could rest for the night. The object was covered in order to avoid
questions by the local sheriff or anyone who might show more curiosity than
desired.
When they woke up, Ti sang to La a bridge to the tune
they had been humming. It was confirmation that they had made the right
decision. “My brother will know what it is.”
La replied, “Yes, he is a scientist.”
“And an inventor,” Ti answered, her first two words
overlapped his last in perfect harmony. They repeated the same careful approach
as they passed through the next two towns.
They arrived in the city just as the suns were about to
set. Flames glowed within the gas lamps as they traversed the city streets.
They were amazed at the progression – it had been over a year since they had
visited Ti’s brother, Ray. Multi-story buildings lined the cobbled streets. It
was like a maze to find his brother. Fantastic carriages traversed without a
mule or a horse. They looked at each other in amazement.
Ray didn’t answer the door at first. “It should be his
day off,” Ti sang.
“Maybe he’s in the cellar,” La pointed out.
Ti was intent on peeking into the front window, so he
didn’t hear La.
“Maybe he’s in the cellar,” she repeated like a chorus
with a crescendo to catch his attention. She stepped from the stoop and peeked
around the side of Ray’s two-story house.
Ti followed as he repeated her chorus and added, “He’s
always experimenting.”
La knocked on the cellar door like the beat of his
previous song.
After a rest in the beat, Ray emerged, “Ti! And La!” He
sang in quick repetition. “What brings you to the city? I haven’t seen you
since two Harvest Days ago. How is the farm?”
Ti ignored the question and sang his own, “We have a
mystery to show you.”
“Lead the way,” Ray answered as he embraced them both. As
soon as La and Ti uncovered the metal object, Ray snatched the end of the tarp
and covered it back up, “Do you want to cause a panic?” He sang as if to end a
requiem.
“What is it?” Ti asked.
Immediately, he motioned with his arms to follow him.
“Let’s get it inside.”
They safely secured the object in the cellar, which was
filled with various pieces of scientific equipment including microscopes,
calibration devices, an engine lathe, slide rules, and scales, as well as a
hydraulic press and other finishing machines, along with a few burners and
beakers.
La asked, “What do you mean, a panic?”
Ray took a rod of iron and tapped the object, “What I
suspected. Listen.”
La and Ti leaned their ears closer. “I don’t understand,”
Ti shook his head.
“There’s no metal like this – here.”
“What do you mean?”
Mesmerized by the object, he ignored Ti’s question and
exclaimed, “What I find amazing is – is how did it survive the impact? It
should’ve been destroyed in a fiery ball.”
“It was in ice,” La answered him.
“What is it? Do you have a theory?” His brother asked. “I
know you do.” He reached for what appeared to be an opening. “Should we open
it?” He snatched a tool from a nearby table and handed it to his brother, who
was hesitant, at first, to accept the honors – or the challenge.
The curiosity of being a scientist compelled Ray to open
it. After several attempts, he managed to pry it open – forced it open. La and
Ti stepped toward the object for a closer look. The eyes of all three opened
wide at what they saw. Their singing reverted to talking.
Ray pulled out a loosened part, “I couldn’t even begin to
theorize what this is – nor guess.”
Ti reached and pointed at a thin, square metallic
container, “And this?”
La reached in and pulled it out. She looked at each of
them in astonishment. She wasted no time and just opened it. Inside was a
golden disk about the radius of two of her hands when she placed them
side-by-side over it. She handed it to Ray for closer examination.
Ray gently laid it under a bright light. Ray had spent
the extra money on electricity. The disk had hundreds of circular grooves. He
pulled out a handheld magnifier and discovered engraving throughout the
circular pattern. “Do you know what this is?” He answered his own question,
“It’s a recording device. That is, it has sound imprinted on it.”
“Like a phonograph?” Ti asked.
“No. Like the new gramophone. You may not have seen one
yet,” he looked at his brother with increased fervor. “But this is more
advanced, so we have no way of playing it. He examined the exterior more
closely. He pointed at what appeared to be a blackened metal plate, “Look
here,” he took some rubbing alcohol and cleaned the plate – it was golden. He
rubbed the plate some more. “Do you know what this could be?” He answered his
own question, “Instructions!” He crouched to examine it more closely. “I’ll need
to clean this more thoroughly – and more carefully. “Perhaps, this will tell us
how to build the device required to play the recording.” He shook his head in
admiration, “This is going to take time. And I’m going to need to employ a
fellow colleague, Mi. He can be trusted. I’ve worked with him on other
projects.”
“How long will it take?” Ti asked as his voice semi
returned to carrying a note.
Ray sighed the measure of two beats, “Months – maybe
longer. Leave it with me.”
For the next two years, Ti and La visited Ray on Harvest
Day. On occasion, Ti would steal himself away from the farm to pay him a
special visit. Each time, Ray and Mi had made progress. The machine went from
exposed wires to an actual wood case and an amplifying horn. When they tested
it, the sound quality was insufficient. But Ray had also made a profound
discovery.
“Ti,” Ray held both his hands around the disk as it
rested on the turntable, “do you know what else this contains?” As his habit,
he answered his own question, “There’s more than just sound on this record.
That’s what it’s called, a record.”
“The golden record,” Mi added with a melodic tone.
Ray continued the song, “There is encoded information.
Who knows what could be on it!”
“We have more work to do,” Mi added an octave higher with
continued amazement.
Shortly before the next Harvest Day, Ray sent for his
brother. Ti and La had yet to install a telephone in their farmhouse. They
arrived a week later; Ray could scarcely contain his pitch. He pulled out a
small, locked, wooden chest with over a hundred photographs and handed the
stack to them. “Look. You’re not going to believe it!”
They quickly thumbed through the photographs. “They’re in
color,” La stopped at one in particular and stared. “Ti – they look like us.”
She handed the photo to her mate. It was an image of a mother nursing a baby.
Ray interjected, “I know. How can this be?”
“There’s more,” Ti showed La one with beings like them
eating and drinking. And of another running. Of another with a fishing net. Of
a building that seemed to touch the edge of the sky. Of planets both scientists
had never seen before, one in particular of a blue planet with a crescent moon.
Of mountains and a river, but in a format of which they were accustomed – black
and white. Of diagrams of a molecule. And they finally stopped at one that
further defied explanation – of sex organs, conception, and a fetus.
Ray exclaimed in a conclusion-like manner, “This – is
us.”
“But the buildings and planets,” La countered. “You’ve
shown me images of our planets, and they’re not like these,” he held up the
photograph of a red planet and another one with rings.
“And it’s obvious they’re more advanced than we are,” Ray
encouraged them to flip through more of the photographs. Ti stopped at one with
a drawing of a double helix. Ray was quiet for a moment, mesmerized by the
image like it was the first time he saw it. He looked at his brother and La, “I
can only speculate what this is. But Mi has a theory.”
“It reminds me of a paper I once read at university.
Decades ago, a scientist isolated nuclein from white blood cells and discovered
they were different from proteins,” Mi methodically replied.
“In Song,” Ti asked.
“It’s what makes us who we are,” Mi
answered.
“Do you know what this means?” Ray asked.
Ti shook his head, “What?”
Ray was silent for a moment.
So was Mi in apprehension to answer their own question.
“Maybe this will help us understand. Listen,” Ray started
the record player. The record spun and spun like gold could be woven from the
light that reflected off the disc. He placed the stylus on the edge of the
record. Music. Three notes in E major started the piece. And then, instruments
that immediately begged the imagination to be swept away.
La smiled, “Horns. I hear many horns!” She exclaimed in
unison to the music.
“And violins,” Ti announced.
Ray added, “This is just the overture.”
Flutes blended with violins. Violins with the Oboe. And
horns again. All four closed their eyes to the sound. And contrary to the
current philosophy of cultural Enlightenment, Ti solemnly whispered two notes,
“Divine.”
As the violins and the flutes floated throughout the
cellar, La exclaimed, “Indeed.”
Mi reluctantly agreed with a hum that joined this
creation of the composer.
For the remainder of the piece, all four stood quietly as they let the music fill their being. Tears streamed down the cheeks of La. Ti could no longer contain himself as he followed his mate in the music that tugged at his tears. Soon, Ray and Mi followed suit. When the piece ended, all four were speechless. They gazed at one another. Each with a quizzical look at what to do next. Then, with a broad smile, La said whimsically, “Let’s listen to it again.”
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