49 lines
2.5 KiB
Plaintext
49 lines
2.5 KiB
Plaintext
I awoke to a buzzing, not an alarm, but a tone inside my head. The
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Protectorate had completed several upgrades to the ship, and as we
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studied their history and science and they were studying ours. I
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guess centuries of advancement hadn't sped their analytical powers
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as much as I expected. Perhaps there's a hard wall as to how fast
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the universe can experience itself. I hadn't had any major side
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effects to the tests we've been running on one another, except for
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this tinnitus.
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Biological integrity, hormone generation and modifications,
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pheromonic communication, a list of discoveries had soon filled our
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datastores - which had also been adapted by the Protectorate - the
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efficiency of all our technologies had increased to magical
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proportions. Even Super Hex didn't comprehend exactly how these
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changes worked, but none of our interfaces had changed so we kept
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doing that we've always done.
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Their DNA was 92% similar to ours, after accounting for the fact
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that they had Silicon in the positions where Phosphorus usually
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resides. Mr Swarms' lab now contained several homunculus-like
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chimeras, created with the help of the Protectorate and Commander
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Cranium, each floating in their own little jars like horribly
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deformed tadpoles. I have no idea how they were created, but I
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can't imagine it was anything I wanted to know.
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The Refeshlicator still worked as expected, producing my usual
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tepid coffee infused with the taste of sugar and cream and an
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elephant ear pastry. There was no natural dairy in either of them,
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but they tasted as fresh and organic as the finest artisanal
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bakeries back home.
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It's been 2 years since I had last set foot on Earth, and now I had
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started to lose hope of seeing it again; or what's left of it by
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now. Last I heard The Revengerists had prevented the total
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annihilation of Freedonia at the hands of Dr Evilus, but at great
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cost to New Luxembourg. Not that the rest of the planet wasn't a
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total catastrophe, but at least the Artic colonies had stopped
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battling over the borders of their farmlands.
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The Nalmykians had taken us deeper into formerly uncharted space,
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by our calculations we were nearly 40 lightyears away from home;
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and no closer to finding our way back. At least our ship had a new
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opalescent paint job, even if the Protectorate didn't like to be
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referred to as paint. The golden filigree was a nice touch, like a
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more organic rococo, complete with black orbs, I couldn't help but
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feel like they were hundreds of horses eyes were watching me
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through these peepholes throughout the Revenant.
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