The Ark -

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Creator: MrFroMan
Edition: 1 of 1
Description:

There is no pressure in space, no unseen all-encompassing force, to batter
away at titanium walls. There is no debris to pummel at engines, not here. No nebula
to slowly eat away, gnaw at this monstrosity.
Yet the hull creaks every now and then. The empty hallways echo sounds
that, by all rights, should … (read more)

There is no pressure in space, no unseen all-encompassing force, to batter
away at titanium walls. There is no debris to pummel at engines, not here. No nebula
to slowly eat away, gnaw at this monstrosity.
Yet the hull creaks every now and then. The empty hallways echo sounds
that, by all rights, should not exist. Noises born like bastards, ill conceived and spat
out into the world without intention. They run through corridors and vents,
bouncing from wall to wall. Even an innocent chime flees, frantically looking for any
way out.
A ghost of an ambiance living in this colossal emptiness… An emptiness that
floats in the great void.
It seemed, and rightfully so, that eons passed, though one would not have
been able to tell by looking at this great abomination of a ship. All remained
unchanged… Until the creeping sounds seemed to falter and draw back. They ran
scared and faded as something new took up the domination of decibels.
A steady beating. Each bang arriving precisely after the same interval as the
last. It almost seemed… Purposeful.
The rhythmic pounding came ever closer down a musty aisle. The distinct
sound of hydraulics became clear and all other noises fled in panic. There was
nothing else to be heard anymore, only the steady march. A silhouette began to
form as the ruckus turned louder and louder.
Curves and electric panels. Breasts and wires. Determination nurtured and
maintained through technology. She moved with steady strides, her pace never
changing. Her face revealed no emotion, her gaze seemed intent on whatever lay
ahead.
She walked for days which turned into weeks. She walked from point A
towards point B as weeks turned into months. She did not stop to rest or to
contemplate her intention.
The footfall suddenly stopped. She tilted her head a tiny fraction. She heard
music. A light drum beat and… A ukulele. There was no doubt to her mind that it was
Paul Anka’s Put Your Head on my Shoulder from an age so long ago that it baffles
comprehension.
“What is this?” Even to her the words sounded alien from her mouth. She
turned her head to the right and stared at the wall. A violet orb suddenly appeared
and four tentacles reached out of it. It seemed synthetic, nothing organic about it
though the way it moved and slithered was uncannily natural.
“I thought it might liven up the place a little.” The orb seemed to breathe as
its light dimmed and slowly flared back up again.
“Liven up… the place?” She turned her head a full 360 degrees. “There is
nothing lively about this place. With or without Mr Anka, it’s much the same.”
The squid pushed itself off the wall and straightened its tentacles to fly, not
unlike a starfish, to stop floating a few inches in front of her eyes. “Well it got us
finally talking didn’t it? I’d say that Mr Anka did a wonderful job.” Its violet light
flickered playfully.
The cyborg leaned in a bit closer, almost touching the squid with her nose.
“Tipy.”

“Yes, Caretaker?” The orb’s light changed to a meek white as it waited for an
answer.
“Did it ever occur to you, that I don’t want to talk?” The Caretaker didn’t wait
for an answer and rushed on ahead. Tipy shot through the air, spinning like a starfish
again, after her.
“Oh come on. We’ve started on the inspection cycle two months ago and you
haven’t said a single word to me.” By this point Tipy was floating along next to her
head. They were both moving down the, seemingly, endless corridor.
They made their way further and further through the dark hallway, Tipy had
yet to receive an answer.
“I refuse to believe that you never feel lonely.” The synthetic squid said
stubbornly as it shifted its color to gray.
“What do you know of feeling lonely?” She said without stopping or slowing.
“Well I know enough of it to play this damn song in the hopes of you finally
talking to me.”
“What else?” Her voice reflected a cold determination.
Tipy did not answer right away, his orb kept shifting colors as he considered
the question. From red to pink to orange and black. “It’s a feeling that I don’t like.”
The Caretaker grunted, urging him to go on.
“It bothers me whenever I feel it. It doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t scare me or make
me feel like my life is in danger but…”
“But?”
Tipy’s colors shifted some more. The orb was black when he went on.
“But I fear that if I feel it for long enough then it will do more harm. The
longer it goes on the worse it gets.” The cyber-squid seemed to be coming to new
realizations as it struggled to put it into words. “And the worse it gets the harder it is
to stop it. Even now I felt it for months but I just couldn’t bring myself to talk to you.
It’s like… The more time I spend alone the harder it seems to get out of it.”
The Caretaker turned its head and looked at the Tipy as they went on. “What
did you do during these two months, Tipy?”
“You mean besides my tasks?”
“Yes.”
“Well…” Its light pulsed in black. “I… followed you some times. Other times I
powered off in vents. To be fair I spent a lot of time in the vents. Just laid there and
wondered why we aren’t going about the inspection together.” His orb suddenly
flared red. “And then I got angry. Thought about shorting you a few times.”
“That’s cute.”
Tipy didn’t answer, and the conversation seemed to die but after an hour the
Caretaker stopped and turned to her left.
“Why are we stopping?” The tentacled orb asked.
“We aren’t stopping.”
“Then what? Are we going to steal one of the livers from a pod again?” The
light suddenly flickered rapidly through red orange and yellow.
“No.” The answer came clear as a large door slid open in front of them.
“So?”
“The time has come for the next step in your education, Tipy.” The squid
pulsated in an uncertain gray.

They walked for a while until they came to an airlock and a gigantic window.
The Caretaker didn’t need it but the ship wasn’t designed only for her. “Wait here,
your tentacles won’t be enough out on the hull.”
She stepped outside and established comms with Tipy. “And turn off that
music before I turn you into a fried Calamari.” The squid agreed reluctantly and
switched it off. It slithered to the window to watch the Caretaker step further out.
She threaded a narrow pathway, exposed to the radiation of space. The
fading light of a dying sun blanketed her body in orange.
“What you don’t seem to understand, Tipy, is where we truly are.” She spoke
the words harshly, bitterness oozing through their communication channel. The
Caretaker stepped further out on the hull. “You don’t understand the task we have
been given. The responsibility that I bear, trusted onto me by a an uncaring destiny.”
She stepped further out on the hull as inside Tipy curled his tentacles protectively
around his body and dimmed his orb, the light shifting between red and black.
“We stand on the precipice of the end. Do you understand that?” The ship
suddenly lurched from the gravitational pull of the all consuming black hole that it
was orbiting. The engines flared up and worked to counteract the pull. The Ark
steadied.
“Not just the end of our species, but the end of everything that we can
understand. We are at the whim of a dying sun. Waiting for time and space to
disintegrate and the world to be born anew. You talk to me of loneliness yet you
have no idea.”
She took another step outward. Her entire body was now showered in a
magnificent orange as she turned around to look at Tipy through the window. A dark
silhouette framed by the gaze of a waning star as the astral hunger of a black hole
floated behind her other shoulder.
“Loneliness? You speak to me of loneliness? How tragic it is that we always
reach this point, you and I.”
The squid did not understand but chose to remain silent.
“I have been aboard this Ark for a millenia’s milenia a hundred fold, a
thousand fold even. Do you understand what I am saying?”
“No, Caretaker.” His answer came as a whisper.
“You are the tenth million Cyber-Squid, the tenth million model ST111 also
called ‘Tipy’. You are not the first nor shall you be the last. You will die, just like the
ten million before you and the next ten million after you. But I will still be here,
Caretaker of the Great fucking Ark. Ark to a lost cause, to a purpose I don’t even
have the capacity to remember anymore.” She paused for a second and then went
on, speaking softly “Do not speak to me of loneliness while you have the great luxury
of dying…”
She turned her head sideways, gazing into the black hole. She felt it calling to
her, felt it pulling at whatever figment of humanity she still retained. She lifted a
foot, tentatively, to turn towards it when the Ark suddenly rocked and a series of
explosions sounded far away on the ship. After so long, she finally felt something
new, something that had faded in her memory into oblivion through the eons. She
felt fear.


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Comments

Majid Hojati
2021/09/20

very good

REPLY
Majid Hojati
2021/09/20

very good

REPLY
Shivam Kala
2021/09/15

Glitchy work🔥🔥

REPLY
adriano_cadau
2021/09/15

love sci-fi xd great work

REPLY