I/Tulpa: Onuk Bay by Ion Light - HTML preview

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Chapter 2

The space-ship was a home, much bigger than RV. Jon found it eerie exploring it. He was aware that he was exploring it for the first time, and yet, it felt as if he had always been here. And technically, it wasn’t the ‘first time.’ He had been on the ship for approximately two weeks, living in a trance while the nanites in his bloodstream updated his body brain to be a pilot, integrating his nervous system with that of the ship. The ship itself had the comparable brain size of a horse, but much of it was spread out throughout the ship accumulating in nodes, in a way, making it more comparable to a cephalopod. The more he thought about it, it was unlike any animal comparison. It was smarter than a horse or octopus. It was capable of astounding computations to keep itself and its occupants alive, but it was not human. The brain was not limited to one central location, but was spread through the entirety of it was ship. All the features of the ship, the furniture, had a life like feel to them, as if they were grown. The inner surfaces responded to touch. The walls, ceiling, and floor were a continuous unfolding of hexagonal shapes, as if her were in a hive, or the inner buddings of a plant waiting to unfold. There was texture like a tight celled quilt. His quarters contained a bed, a personal toilet, and lavatory with toiletries and toothbrush. He felt disappointment seeing himself in the mirror.

      “Couldn’t they have cloned me younger?” he asked no one.

There were storage spaces built into the walls and ceilings, part of the hexagons. Opening a space caused the hexagon to light and it rose from the floor, or extracted from the wall, or descended from the ceiling. Bigger compartments came away with more hexagons. Illuminated hexagons lit the interior of the ship. There were two empty rooms, as if there purpose had yet to be determined. There were long, flat cavities below the main deck, and above the main deck, which seemed to be intended for storage, which tapered from wide to narrow. The flight deck was the most spacious room, followed by the mess hall kitchen. The floor was elongated, and it could open, like eyelids pulling apart, to reveal an illuminated pool of water. It was big enough swim in, and it offered a flowing current to swim against. The water was super saturated with saline making it possible to just float in, and the composition of the salts was perfectly attuned to caring for human skin. Even though the salt contents of the water was comparable to the Dead Sea, there was life in the water. The ones he noticed were like minnows darting about. His mind didn’t want to linger on the ones he couldn’t easily see, even though they weren’t harmful to humans. They were just alien.

      The nose of the ship was the main entrance and exit, with an airlock between it and the inner ship. The nose of the ship opened like a mouth, the floor resembled a tongue in appearance and feel; a tongue that rolled in a perfect ‘O,’ making a tunnel to aid in air-locking them to another ship or station airlock. This middles space of the airlock was a clean room, including a shower and toilet. Jon walked his habitat, having picked up a snack from the galley. He was halfway through a sealed container of Iriko, a small, minnow size fish that was dried and often put in soup, but could be eaten like chips, when he made the mental connection to the minnows in the galley pool. On realizing what he was eating, mindlessly, he rushed to the toilet to vomit. Before he arrived, he had recovered and didn’t feel the urge to be sick. This was not his normal diet, but he had been eating it since he had arrived on the ship. He decided he couldn’t eat more, but he couldn’t justify throwing it away. He took it back to the galley and stowed it with the other bags of supply.

      He searched the kitchen for anything else. He got water from a tap, rinsed his mouth, and spit into the sink. He found packages of freeze dried vegetables and fruits that were not recognizable, but were likely human safe. He doubt biocorp engineers wanted to purposely kill their pilots. Then again, comfort was minimized. The ship was comfortable enough that it wouldn’t drive their pilots to quit. Then again, it was uncomfortable enough to encourage the pilots to be productive in their service. The more you map, the more you earn. There were smart probes below deck, basically just baseball size orbs that were essentially buoys, but could collect and send data. And complain. They were no true AI, but their simulated intelligence was sophisticated enough to fool a human into thinking they were sentient. There was a port to launch them. There was a giant egg shaped object in a crate. He knew instantly what it was, but was more curious about the flavor of the knowledge, because he had never seen it before. It was the color of a sour tart, and the rough texture to match. The egg carried with it all the basic ingredients for introducing life to a planet. On discovering a planet that met the criteria, the egg was to be delivered, activated, and within a thousand years, there was sufficient biomass to start a basic terraforming project. Finding a suitable planet and deploying the egg resulted in the highest return in compensation to a pilot, provided that the implantation of life took hold. It was an investment, not a quick return.

      Jon closed his eyes. He could see outside the ship. It was day, but felt like twilight. The sun for this planet was a red dwarf, or a class M star. He tried to access a star map, but unfortunately, he needed more intel, which would require a stay in orbit so he could map out the local stellar group. Only then would the computer banks be able to determine where they were, if it was indeed possible to identify known stellar objects. Ship sensor confirmed the air was breathable. The ocean they were in was sufficiently identical to earth that he could taste it and not discern a difference.

      He passed through the airlocks and into the nose of the ship. He coached the mouth to open. It opened with the lower edge remaining above the water line. The air was cool. It smelled fresh, with a hint of ozone, as if had it rained recently. There were birds soaring in the breeze. He proceeded out into the water. His shoe sank further into the sand and when he finally extracted his foot, the shoe was gone. He frowned, but didn’t curse. He sat on the open deck of the ship and removed his sock. He removed the other shoe and sock and then reached down to dig out the other. He fell in. He gave up finding the shoe and stood. In the water he felt fine, but outside, the chilled air highlighted the fact he was wet. He made his way towards the beach.

      The beach sloped gently up. The sand crunched beneath his feet, but felt nice. In the distance was a forest, and beyond that two mountain ranges that moved in either direction with an opening where one might proceed into a valley. The entirety of it suggested feminity. It felt inviting. It was not home, but it felt inviting. A part of his brain said, that’s exactly what a fly is thinking before the Venus flytrap closes. He shook that off, and proceeded further up the beach.

      He came to the top of the rise, and looked down the hill. A sense of dread fell over him. He had to focus on it to make sense of it all, and it took incredible effort not to run back to the ship. There was a dais, perhaps marble, where a person was chained. Immediately surrounding the dais was a mote. Outside the mote were five pillars. Just beyond the pillars was a wall, approximately knee high. Sea water was encroaching on the wall, and would eventually rise above and fill the entirety of it, which would put the dais underwater. The person chained to the dais would drown, assuming they weren’t already dead. Jon forced himself to breathe.

      “Loxy?” Jon asked.

      No answer came.

      “Loxy!” Jon practically shouted in his head. He could close his eyes and see with his ship. They had arrived on the high side of the beach. Further down the cove, gentle waves carried over and was slowly filling the area behind the rise.

      “Oh, there you are,” Loxy said. Her voice was inside his head.

      “So, you can hear me,” Jon said.

      “I can,” Loxy said.

      “Can you see what I see?” Jon asked.

      “I can access all your senses…” Loxy said. “Oh.”       “Oh?” Jon asked.

      “We should probably leave,” Loxy said.

      “You think?” Jon asked. Still he didn’t move.

      “I recommend coming back to the ship,” Loxy said.

      “You don’t think I should try and help that person?” Jon asked.

      “I would,” Loxy said.

      “Then, that’s what I am going to do,” Jon said.

      “Jon, we don’t know the situation. What if this person is a criminal?” Loxy asked.

      “I am not in favor of capital punishment,” Jon said.

      “Me neither,” Loxy said.

      “And this is more than that, isn’t it?” Jon asked. “This is torture! Killing someone is one thing, but making an elaborate death machine, that’s just, well, who the hell does that?”       “The Joker, the Penguin, the Riddler, Posion Ivy,” Loxy said.

      “Okay, in essence, bad guys,” Jon said.

      “In essence,” Loxy agreed.

      “Alright, so, I am going to go closer,” Jon said.

      “I believe it’s the right thing to do, but I must admit, I am feeling fear,” Loxy said.

      “That’s new,” Jon said.

      “That is new. Wow. I don’t like this,” Loxy said. “I am worried for your safety.”

      “Me, too,” Jon said. “I don’t see anyone in the area. Do you?”       “I do not,” Loxy said.

“Oh, well, see, these bad guys are just as stupid as the bad guys you mentioned. Setting a trap and walking away, just plain stupid,” Jon said.

Jon drew closer to the trap. He could now discern the person was female. Her hair was red. Her face was an explosion of freckles. Her ears were pointed like elves. She wore a white, fairy princess dress. Her wrists, ankles, and neck were shackled into place against the dais. He had to actively resist a sexual impulse, and was mad at himself for feeling lust towards someone who was vulnerable. On each of the pillars there was a bowl. One held water, one held sand, one held an oil lamp, which burned with a low flame, one bowl was empty, and one held metal.

“Please tell me this is not some moronic religious ritual,” Jon said.

“I cannot,” Loxy said.

“Okay, so, now I am not as sure I was previously,” Jon said.

“Me neither,” Loxy said.

“If we do nothing, she will die,” Jon said.

“Based on the rate of incoming water, I suspect she has approximately thirty five minutes,” Loxy said.

“So, not enough time to go find the nearest village and ask what the fuck?” Jon asked.

“No,” Loxy said.

“Alright,” Jon said, biting his thumb. “I am going to commit.” “Okay,” Loxy said.

“You’re not going to talk me out of it?” Jon asked.

“I don’t have enough information,” Loxy said. “Knowing what I know, if I were physically present, I would rescue her myself.”

“Okay, then, we’re on the same page, and we’re committed,” Jon said.

He stepped into the mote and proceeded towards the dais. Something bit his ankle and he hurried towards the dais, cursing, and climbed up. He looked down and saw the snakes in the water.

“Fuck,” Jon said. “That hurt.”

“Come back to the ship, now,” Loxy said.

“We’re committed,” Jon said.

He looked to the woman. She was breathing. She did not wake when he shook her or call out. Fortunately, the manacles didn’t require a key. They unlocked easily. He freed her neck and limbs and drew her to the side of the dais. Cursing, he jumped back into the mote, and dragged the woman off the dais and made his way quickly out of the mote. It was awkward, as he had to lay her over the outer wall, which dropped her inelegantly on the other side. He was bitten three more times before he was out of the snake pit. He stumbled and went to his knees. He heard Loxy encouraging him to hurry back.

He gathered the woman back into his arms staggered to his feet. The woman was surprisingly light, which helped a great deal. He made it down the beach, back into the water, and over to the ship, where he gently placed her inside the mouth. The tongue had emerged to help catch her, and drew her in. The ships tongue gently moved her away from the door. His eyesight was blurry. He was sweating profusely. It took effort to climb in. He literally rolled into the ship and as soon as he was in, the mouth closed. Jon laid there, looking up at the ceiling. Loxy was now in his vision, but she looked far away, as if she were at the far end of the tunnel.

“Jon, you must walk to your room. I can’t help you here,” Loxy said. “Get up, Jon.”