roseembolism (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
roseembolism) wrote2008-10-15 05:00 pm
roseembolism) wrote2008-10-15 05:00 pm
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I Dream of...Alien Nanotechnology
The other night, no kidding, I dreamed of 1950s sitcoms that were updated and converted into modern hard SF concepts. The only one I really remember is this one, where the term "using advanced alien nanotechnology" came from.
“Well, am I right?”
Mike eyed the thing we had dug out of the beach and frowned. “I’m not a biology genius but… It looks a bit like a cocoon. Could it be some sort of egg case? Like for whales? Squid maybe”
I snorted in disgust. “Come on, you’re in denial. LOOK at this thing. A ten-foot long cocoon? This IS the big one. The big find. 'Extraterrestrial'.” Mike looked dubious, but I knew him; he simply didn’t want to consider the idea. “Not a cocoon” I said firmly, and rapped on the hard, smooth surface. It sounded hollow. “It looks more like a…a chrysalis of some sort. Maybe.”
Mike flopped down on the sand and groaned. “You’ve been working with those NASA boys too much. What sort of alien is going to dump a…a whatsit just south of Vandenberg where anyone can find it? “ I thought back to the morning a week ago when my high altitude parachute jump had gone horrifyingly wrong. If I had drifted a little further, I would have ended up in the ocean... “This beach is pretty damn isolated. And you see the way it tends to blend in? If I hadn’t tripped over the damn thing it might never have been seen.” I pointed over toward where the cliffs curved outward into the ocean. “The beach disappears during everything but low tide all around the point, all the way up to the base. Maybe it was put here because of the Deep Space Tracking Center?
“It still doesn’t add up. It could be from Hollywood, maybe” Mike offered weakly. “This looks like something they would make. Out of plastic maybe.” I got out my knife, and tried scratching the surface. My knife came away nicked, and the surface remained clear. "It’s not plastic, it’s tough. And how would it get up here? The current’s the wrong way.” I shoved at it, and to my surprise it shifted. “Hey! We can move it! “
Mike got up slowly, looking at it dubiously. “So if it is an ET thingie, why don’t we leave it here and get an authority? We should at least let the CO know.” His comment made sense. As Air Force officers, it was our duty to report something like this. And being the first people to make a discovery like this, verifiable proof of alien visitation would be the ticket to getting our names in the history books. Yet as I ran my hand up and down the slick skin of the thing, I found myself making excuses; what if it was a hoax or prop? We’d be the laughingstock of the base. Or what if it washed away while we left and got into cell phone range? They were silly, but still, it didn’t feel right to leave it alone. On impulse, I began searching around the ocean side of the thing.
“What are you dong
“I’m looking for some place to attach a rope. We’ll take it back with us, tow it behind the boat, and then let someone at the base have a look at it”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. Hey, what’s this?” Under the leading edge of the thing was a round seam, and what looked like a slot. “this almost seems like a plug of some sort. I think I can fit my hand in here…” I muttered.
“Well don’t touch it!” Mike yelled, and almost instinctively I tugged at it. With a click that was felt more than heard, a cylinder abruptly sprang out, and green mist began jetting out of the hole left behind, enveloping me. On the other side, Mike yelped and scrambled backwards and away. Coughing I got up and staggered to the side and out of the cloud. The thing was deflating now, the weird corves and bumps folding downward like an air mattress crossed with a sponge. Two thoughts surfaced: One, if this gas was dangerous, I was hopelessly contaminated. Two, even if I was contaminated scientists would need a sample of the stuff.
“Mike! Get the sample cases! “Mike stared at me. “The SAMPLE CASES! We need a sample!” He dived for our backpacks, and brought out a plastic container, and threw it at me. I snatched it, and waved it around inside the cloud frantically trying to get some of the gas in. Even if it was mixed with air, I hoped, maybe it could be analyzed.” I tried to pop the top on, and watched it clatter into the bottom of the container. “Mike, get me a cap that FITS!”
Mike didn’t reply. He was staring.
The fog was shifting, curling in on itself as if it were alive, growing denser. As we stared speechless, it condensed into a column, that writhed and collapsed into itself.
“What. The. HELL.” I said
A dark form began to take form in the heart of the cloud.
“Oh my God” Mike whispered,”
Green eyes stared unblinkingly at me. Beautiful green eyes that were part of a completely human, beautiful face.
“What is your wish, master?” the woman asked.
“Well, am I right?”
Mike eyed the thing we had dug out of the beach and frowned. “I’m not a biology genius but… It looks a bit like a cocoon. Could it be some sort of egg case? Like for whales? Squid maybe”
I snorted in disgust. “Come on, you’re in denial. LOOK at this thing. A ten-foot long cocoon? This IS the big one. The big find. 'Extraterrestrial'.” Mike looked dubious, but I knew him; he simply didn’t want to consider the idea. “Not a cocoon” I said firmly, and rapped on the hard, smooth surface. It sounded hollow. “It looks more like a…a chrysalis of some sort. Maybe.”
Mike flopped down on the sand and groaned. “You’ve been working with those NASA boys too much. What sort of alien is going to dump a…a whatsit just south of Vandenberg where anyone can find it? “ I thought back to the morning a week ago when my high altitude parachute jump had gone horrifyingly wrong. If I had drifted a little further, I would have ended up in the ocean... “This beach is pretty damn isolated. And you see the way it tends to blend in? If I hadn’t tripped over the damn thing it might never have been seen.” I pointed over toward where the cliffs curved outward into the ocean. “The beach disappears during everything but low tide all around the point, all the way up to the base. Maybe it was put here because of the Deep Space Tracking Center?
“It still doesn’t add up. It could be from Hollywood, maybe” Mike offered weakly. “This looks like something they would make. Out of plastic maybe.” I got out my knife, and tried scratching the surface. My knife came away nicked, and the surface remained clear. "It’s not plastic, it’s tough. And how would it get up here? The current’s the wrong way.” I shoved at it, and to my surprise it shifted. “Hey! We can move it! “
Mike got up slowly, looking at it dubiously. “So if it is an ET thingie, why don’t we leave it here and get an authority? We should at least let the CO know.” His comment made sense. As Air Force officers, it was our duty to report something like this. And being the first people to make a discovery like this, verifiable proof of alien visitation would be the ticket to getting our names in the history books. Yet as I ran my hand up and down the slick skin of the thing, I found myself making excuses; what if it was a hoax or prop? We’d be the laughingstock of the base. Or what if it washed away while we left and got into cell phone range? They were silly, but still, it didn’t feel right to leave it alone. On impulse, I began searching around the ocean side of the thing.
“What are you dong
“I’m looking for some place to attach a rope. We’ll take it back with us, tow it behind the boat, and then let someone at the base have a look at it”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. Hey, what’s this?” Under the leading edge of the thing was a round seam, and what looked like a slot. “this almost seems like a plug of some sort. I think I can fit my hand in here…” I muttered.
“Well don’t touch it!” Mike yelled, and almost instinctively I tugged at it. With a click that was felt more than heard, a cylinder abruptly sprang out, and green mist began jetting out of the hole left behind, enveloping me. On the other side, Mike yelped and scrambled backwards and away. Coughing I got up and staggered to the side and out of the cloud. The thing was deflating now, the weird corves and bumps folding downward like an air mattress crossed with a sponge. Two thoughts surfaced: One, if this gas was dangerous, I was hopelessly contaminated. Two, even if I was contaminated scientists would need a sample of the stuff.
“Mike! Get the sample cases! “Mike stared at me. “The SAMPLE CASES! We need a sample!” He dived for our backpacks, and brought out a plastic container, and threw it at me. I snatched it, and waved it around inside the cloud frantically trying to get some of the gas in. Even if it was mixed with air, I hoped, maybe it could be analyzed.” I tried to pop the top on, and watched it clatter into the bottom of the container. “Mike, get me a cap that FITS!”
Mike didn’t reply. He was staring.
The fog was shifting, curling in on itself as if it were alive, growing denser. As we stared speechless, it condensed into a column, that writhed and collapsed into itself.
“What. The. HELL.” I said
A dark form began to take form in the heart of the cloud.
“Oh my God” Mike whispered,”
Green eyes stared unblinkingly at me. Beautiful green eyes that were part of a completely human, beautiful face.
“What is your wish, master?” the woman asked.
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Oh, and your lj-cut is broken.
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