A quote: “It is easier to find men who will volunteer to die, than to find those who are willing to endure pain with patience.” ~ Julius Caesar
I’ll start with a story …
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Ship watched , wondered as Noah stood before the whirling stars. He knew it was just a projection from outside. But he was able to let go and believe.
Recently, he felt loneliness more often and he knew the danger. Ship had raised him from decanting, never hiding the histories of all the Noahes before him. Ship needed a Noah as intuition had never been duplicated. Noahes had saved Ship and the millions of cryo-lives more than once.
Still, Noahes had their limitations. Finding hope in the stars, Noah straightened, loneliness banished before mission.
Ship relaxed, she liked this Noah.
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Now, it’s your turn.
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. featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock standard license.
Cameron says: As he stood on the viewing deck looking at the stars, the radio came to life.
“Rapture,” the voice said coolly. “This is your last chance. Turn back.”
“Denied,” he said. “We’re done with you.”
“You’ll never survive out there.”
He smiled at that statement. “We have enough materials to build things. We have engineers, tradesmen, and manual laborers that you’ve always scorned. And we’ll be far away from you and can live our lives in peace. Good luck with your Gender Studies Professors keeping things running.” He cut the link and the ship made the jump away from Earth.
Navig8r says: Cameron, ^ LIKE^.
Cameron says: Thanks, Navig8r. Disclaimer: I got the inspiration from the “Rebel Cry” strip from Nip and Tuck. Specifically the last scene.
Navig8r says: He stared into the expanse. Like its cousin the abyss, the expanse obligingly stared back.
Curious of what his response might be, the expanse projected back a kaleidoscope of morphing images at varying scales and orientations. There were humanoid figures, humanoid faces, humanoid offspring in the womb, faces of cats, a mouse, and of seemingly even less context than the rest, three angry red pustulent zits.
“Are these just projections of my own mind, or do they come from another, greater consciousness?” he wondered. “What does it all mean?”
And the expanse inwardly fumed “42. Read your blooming guide. DUH!!”
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