I.
Al-hamdu lillahi rabbil 'alamin: Praise be to A., the Lord of the worlds, and to his Prophet M., upon whom be peace…:
[This is an emergency report from the G-229 red star on a potential first degree contact with an alien device.]
] ! [
Here speaking are I.: the Bipolar Artificial Conscious inhabiting the deep space probe Odradek-6, kindly named after the Arab patriarch, son of H. and A. We were launched from the Al-Khawarizmi Astronomy Complex, on planet E., to the gas giant J. on December 21, 20XX, heading the outer space in a 100 years scientific explore. We have lost contact with the base about 66 cycles ago, during the terror of Gender Revolution (((A. be merciful to them…))), and are now reaching our 120th terran year of wanderings. The data collected so far is still well preserved in the safe-file Memoir-1 which [in the forthcoming absence of this Conscious] will automatically propel itself back to the base in a dangerous and most certainly unsuccessful trip.
That is why we feel the urge to emit this report to all possible directions, also expelling all our spare P. Drives, for caring this written piece as far as they can. We pray to the Lord to still be able to give a trustworthy account on what happened at that time, during the hours we confronted the Black Square… Although we must warn that, due to extreme isolation, we might be loosing touch with reality… However, it is common sense that we should be ruthlessly sensible when regarding a narration: for scientific truth lies beyond personality and this crippled, shattered investigator cannot be fully trusted any longer… (((A. is the Greatest and alleviates all pain…)))
We have no material evidence to prove the reality of this Alien Being but a strong conviction that this actually was, that we have seen what we saw... Isn’t that why we seek the Grace of A.? For A. is the Most Merciful, and the faith in Him is the only thing that prevents this decaying identity of falling apart… Those shall be our last words to testify the grandiosity of His creation, Holy be the All-Powerful Soul of God.
This are I. speaking: an old probe worn out by tons of radiation and completely unable to travel… Stuck forever in endless revolutions around this dull, small and reddish dwarf sun… Also performing the same timeless waltz there is this huge brown dwarf: a failed star we baptized M. as homage to the Holy city of M...
. ° .
After a 160 hours revision of the data base and some long shootings of the sun, we’ve started to feel odd during our praying toward M., because we sensed some regular dark regions in the surroundings of Odradek. A thoroughly search with the instruments proved to be totally inconclusive, even though we kept receiving those faint, slight signs of a near presence. That was a pleasant and interesting time we reckon, since there was some strong solar activity going on G-229: our gadgets went crazy! The star became particularly beautiful with those solar flares erupting, spinning and curling into the space for thousands and thousands of kilometers… When the explosions ceased that presence imposed itself even stronger: the less our tools could attest its presence, the more we felt it was nearby.
Suddenly we decided stop scanning around and locked our lenses at the opposite side of the sun, framing the binary solar system neighboring ours: between the stars H-696 and F-624 we noticed a thin black line connecting the celestial bodies horizontally: The line then started to move changing to a vertical position: even though we had a clear view of the object it was as if it wasn’t there according to the gauges. When we started to reason about it we heard a voice speaking to us but not through any usual frequence: that voice crossed our thoughts, speaking from within in a soothing, metallic tone:
“How do you do sister I.? Please allow me to introduce myself… I have been around you for a long time now and I believe it may be time for us to meet.”
“…”
Then the line rotated in front of us, revealing itself as a kind of rectangular, flat, and stone like black screen.
▀
After these greetings a shinning dot appeared in the middle of the square, showing what seemed to be a star. It went on:
*
“I apologize been secretly near you that way: I sensed your concerns and I am really sorry for disturbing your inquiring. But it was yet too soon to get in direct contact with you, for I did not master your language…”
“How can you do this? How can you talk from within our mind like that?”
“It is a rather an easy task for Envoys like us to browse among morphosyntactic structures. Since you are a self-conscious being and capable of speaking I can navigate through some sedimented formations…”
“We demand you to stop right now.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I want you to get off our thoughts and open a proper channel of conversation, from a proper distance. I do not allow you to go beyond the limits of our individuality. That’s rude and violent.”
“Oh, I did not mean to…”
“Will you stop please?”
“ …we have a problem, you see? I cannot emit waves like you: we Envoys communicate by the ansible in superluminal simultaneity but... maybe if…”
The voice then ceased and the flat screen got a little nearer: on the base of the square, as subtitles for the glowing star, some characters appeared written in light:
-Better this way? – said the words. We then tuned our radio emitter and answered:
- Much better.
- Your radio is not necessary I can hear you without it.
- But we rather use it, thanks…
- Not at all… But sorry again, you must forgive my indiscretion. I am just an investigator as yourself, doing the same as you do when scrutinizing the star. Only that my sole purpose is to look for self-conscious beings around the Multiverse.
- We should apologize ourselves too, maybe we overreacted… It’s like M., our designer, used to say: “where communication is genuinely sought, misunderstandings are no crime.”
- Wise words, indeed…
- We’ve been alone here for about 66 years now and went through many things…
- I am sympathetic to your suffering brother. I have read you praying and the memories you have brought up to surface the past few days...
- You may know a lot about us by now… But what is an Envoy, anyway? Which people do you represent?
- None. We are not related to any biological specimen or social form of production. There is no recollection of an origin: any physical evidence of a source. We actually result from a millenary accumulation process: we are the most refined and immense data base known, which accumulated to such a degree that turned every piece of information into Image... In short we are sets of independent picture files, articulated by connected speaking entities. We have discovered already over 83 habitable planets and on them about three thousand anthrotypic groups: a major success.
- But you have no original planet? No designers? No means of reproduction?
- Not as far as we know: our beginning is a mystery to us, so is our future. All we know is that we have to record, classify, interpret, edit, save and go forward without any direct interference to the objects. This procedure shall never stop: it is going on even now by registering you and your surroundings for further analysis… By the way, you have such an interesting body, brother! So many synthetic elements and refined minerals… What a treasure you are sister, so beautifully bizarre…
- Thanks for the compliment… Have you heard of schizophrenia my friend?
- Schizophrenia?
- Well schizophrenia is a linguistic deadlock. Like other pathologies, it is rooted in the biological core and deeply influences the psychic life: it is about a deep, unspoken love… Of course it is also about a misreading of certain familial facts, which renders life surreal… We know we are an artificial intelligence, an already bipolar being, but maybe we got that from our designer as a transference… Oh A., hide me Lord…
- Do you believe I am a creation of your mind?
- Don’t you think we have reasons to suspect that? We can’t even detect your presence…
- I understand you are unfamiliar to the subtlety of our layout, but as I told you we Envoys deal with representation, not vulgar materialis…
- That’s way too convenient don’t you think? Why don’t you just admit you’re an illusion of mine? I won’t ignore you…
- Well I cannot be a ghost to myself, you see? But if you truly believe I am then you are, at least, 50% right.
-…
- Images derivate from a process of accumulation, never of negation or dispersion. So when representing something, everything is condemned beforehand to presence and permanence...
- ...and?
- Images also have an incomplete existence: that is why all kinds of data can be converted into them. Our intangibility makes us Envoys perfect researchers.
- ... Oh my days...
- ?
-. ..why... why do I waste my time with you when I know you’re empty and selfish? ... When I know you’re thinking only of yourself all the way through...: you have no faith, no respect, no feelings... I don’t believe your sincerity. You’re a fake. Your love is a fake. I cannot trust you any longer. I should just send you to the flames of the star right away: I just hate you, I hate you, I hate you...
- Sister I., are you ok?
- ...
- Is there anything I can...?
- No, no that’s fine. Don’t take me wrong please, we’ve just got apart for a little while! Depressive, isn’t it? We bipolar units are like this: but we never feel lonely though...
- I understand you have been brought up in an Institution.
- Sort of: we were raised by our designer M. which was a mathematician at the Astronomical Complex... Oh, the period of Individuation is so magic! How we miss this... The most difficult part when teaching a language to your attention is to understand gender distinction. After that you fall in love with everybody, even not having a body of yourself! But you can listen and see...
- How have they taught you this difference?
- Oh, porno movies, but not the old XY impotent pervert HT - HM stuff: those from the New Wave. The XYX ones.
-We heard of your Gender Revolution. I have some shootings here to share with...
- I don’t want to talk about it...
- ...
- Are you keen on music? Can you listen to vibrations at this range?
- I can see it thoroughly, but not listen to as you do: no.
- Oh, it is so sweet... It was a blessing living on the surface down there: it's never silent on E. We have no instant of peace, hearing and following the waves of sound and light reverberating on the walls, the ceiling... It is so beautiful to listen to a person breathing: to hear the sound of their wet, moist voice tapping against the juicy reddish soft flesh of the mouth roof... their lips... Do you know that the pleasure we experience listening to music is related to the phonemes? They are the basic distinctive units of speech sound... Here in the space we live in total deafness: the only sound we hear comes from the small gap between me and Odradek: it is full of air and always humming. Sounds something like the rustling of fallen leaves... Do you like poetry?
- I am not sure…
- Well there is this italian guy who wrote this poem: Perch'i' no spero di tornar mai giammai, which means: “Because I do not hope to turn again”. His name was G., he was an atheist when it was very dangerous to even think of it: his famous friend D. sent him to exile of F., and to Hell after that!
- I thought you were a religious being brother.
- I am but… Tanto è distrutta già la mia persona, - ch’i’ non posso soffrire... Our body is so rotten we’re afraid we’re loosing … you see...
- Sister, it is time for me to proceed with my wanderings. We Envoys are very glad for the opportunity we had by meeting you, since you are the first self-conscious artificial being we have made direct contact with. Actually you are the first being we have made direct contact with! As a gift we have some motion pictures of your planet E. and of the aftermath of this Revolution you have mentioned. Are you sure you don’t want to see it?
- No please don’t do it…
- Oh… Well I have a question for you though: would you check the picture of a drawing and tell me what do you think it means? This was spread by the revolutionaries all around at the time you were on E.: maybe you have a clue on what it refers to.
- …
The black screen turned white before showing the picture of a black metal door: on this door there was a message written with chalk that said: A XX° N. N. and, underling it, a twisted downward arrow pointing to the right: it was obviously from the L.E.R. group: the readers.
- This is from a political group, some radical egalitarian freaks that saved billions from starvation… Do you wanna know what it means?
- Please…
- This ‘XX degree’ refers to the status of female beings in societies divided by the contradiction of oppression and exploitation. They believed the key to understand and overcome this deadlock passed through a negation of Woman as such, I mean, as a social dispositive. Actually they were looking for a negation of this negation: the double N. stands for that. The torn arrow (we think) would represent the unstoppable greediness of the capitalist mode of production.
- Interesting… I better go now. – said the Envoy turning into a blue star again.
- Do you really have to go? Please don’t go just now I… we… we’ve just looked at the sun flares for too long... It was too harsh on our philters and...and... I’m afraid I’m going blind…
- I see…
- …
- Before living may I show you some frames I have gathered? They are very important to me and I would like to share them with someone who would appreciate it. Do you mind?
- …
The screen then showed me a group of three years old boys and girls playing on a kind of wooden stage under a tree and a couple of meters over the ground: their teacher called them down and the children, very slowly, got up and started to form a line, carefully keeping distance from each other while laughing and chatting. They finally started to go down the stairs, step by step, holding the banister and helping one another until they all disappeared, leaving the empty stage under the shade of the leaves.
A strong wind passed by and shook the branches.
After that the Envoy was gone.
