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Knights of the Olde Speech

User blog:TheBuildersOfNinjago/This story got top 5 in a short story contest! I got a 100 dollar prize :D.

Revision as of 02:13, 6 August 2017 by TheBuildersOfNinjago (talk | contribs) (Blog post created or updated.)
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Shane sighed. Ever since natural gas reserves dried up, electrical expenses surged drastically.

With electricity at fifty one dollars per kilowatt, and gas at eighty seven dollars per gallon, all electrical entertainment was forgon. In light of this electricity crisis, NASA set in motion the ambitious Project Lux. They sent a convoy of solar panels into low orbit to collect solar energy in order to transmit the energy back to earth. The enterprise failed horribly. Of the 64 satellites hurled into space, only 13 successfully transmitted energy back to earth. Two years later, those 13 satellites failed as well. Billions of dollars in equipment were wasted, but even more costly was the immense amount of energy wasted to propel the satellites into orbit. NASA gambled everything on Lux, and lost it all.

The Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence, or SETI, had been fruitless since its creation in the late 20th century, and with their financial predicament following the Lux catastrophe, NASA could not could not continue funding a fruitless department. With the termination of SETI, came termination of dozens of jobs.

Including Shane’s.

Shane’s chair groaned as he leaned his full weight back on it. He stared ahead at the wall in front of him, illuminated by the expansive skylight overhead that NASA installed to replace expensive electric lighting.

“In one week all this will be gone,” he thought sullenly. “In one week I’ll be out of a job.”

To Shane’s right, a robotic voice meticulously registered every possible indication of intelligent life. The light from computer screens consumed too much energy. Instead, information was communicated to the user auditorily.

“Identified: Pulsating gamma-ray bursts,” the machine rattled off. “Likelihood of intelligent origin: 0.07%. Most probable cause: Hypernova.” It paused for a few moments, and the whirring of the computer’s internal machinery filled the air. “Identified: irregular patterns of radio waves. Likelihood of intelligent origin: 0.37% Most probably cause: magnetar.”

The computer mocked him. It teased him with hopeful indicators of intelligence, only to crush those hopes with brutally low probabilities. Anything over one percent probability of intelligent origin was extremely rare. More than two percent was unheard of.

Propping his feet up on the table in front of him, he leaned back and closed his eyes, letting the light coming through the skylight warm his face. Sure, he had work he could be doing, but with the termination of SETI in one week, what was the point?

He apathetically registered the dull buzz of the robotic voice in the background.

“Identified: Low frequency radio signal,”  the computer announced. “Likelihood of intelligent origin:…” The computer paused, with only its internal whirring divulging its functioning state. Shane waited for the computer to continue its analysis, but it only continued to whirr. Annoyed at the low quality, low energy-consumption computers NASA had distributed, he banged the side of the computer system, in an attempt to force the words out of the frozen machine. The internal whirring shifted to a whine for a moment, before the computer spat out “Likelihood of intelligent origin: 13.00%. Most probable cause: Unknown.”

Shane’s eyes snapped open. His feet came down from the table. He sat up.

“Did I hear the computer right?” he wondered. “Surely there is no signal out there with a higher probability than five percent...let alone thirteen percent. Can this really be?”

With a few grumbles and moans from his creaking chair, he stood up and strode over to the computer.

“Analyse the signal patterns,” he commanded the computer.

The computer vibrated in reply, before droning “the patterns seem to reflect a combination of arbitrary symbols, similar to language used on Earth.” The computer’s impassive tone directly contrasted the elation its words sparked within Shane.

“What does it say?” He blurted. “Translate the message! Tell me!”

The computer’s framework vibrated and murmured, before it finally disclosed the message

“Greetings, extraterrestrial life,” the computer translated in a monotone. “We hail to you from the planet Sanguisuga, in the Prastigi system.”

Shane shouted excitedly.

“Send a reply,” Shane dictated “Tell them...tell them ‘this is Shane Xaviar heralding from planet Earth.’”

The computer shuddered, and the message was sent.

“This discovery will make me famous, and rich!” Shane contemplated. “Shane Xaviar will be a household name. I’ll have enough money to turn on an entire room full of lights and leave them on all day!” Shane laughed at the thought of using all the energy he desired on a whim.

Presently, he turned back to the computer, waited tentatively for the response from the alien civilization. Minutes slithered along like hours, but still no reply came.

“What’s taking them so long!” Shane exclaimed angrily.

“Given the speed of the frequency and general origin of the signal, it will take approximately 751.13 years for your message to reach its intended target.”

“Ah, of course. I must have forgotten the simple fact in my excitement,” Shane sighed.

Dejected, he slouched back in his chair.

The incoming reply astounded him.

“Identified: Low frequency radio signal.”

“What does it say?” Shane cried, sitting up.

The computer reported the aliens words, with hesitant pauses before each word. “Hello Shane. I am pleased to make your acquaintance. You may call me LI.”

“Ask him how he replied so quickly!” Shane ordered the computer.

After a brief eternity of seven minutes, the message came back “Our civilization has opened wormholes in the direction of particularly promising exoplanets in order to quickly correspond with intelligent life on that planet. One such planet is yours. The wormhole opened between our planet's allows for the speedy transmission of short radio messages.”

“Amazing!” Shane cried. “Ask him what other advancements they have on his planet.”

The reply came shortly: “We recently developed the miracle of cold fusion.”

Shane sat back in shock. “They’ve developed cold fusion!” he exclaimed “This could be the solution to earth’s energy crisis!”

Shane turned toward the computer and commanded, “Give me the instructions for cold fusion.” The computer vibrated, and the message was sent.

“I would gladly send it to you,” LI replied after a momentary wait. “However, the instructions are too lengthy to be sent through the narrow wormhole I opened. To send them, you must stabilize the wormhole by imputing energy from your side.”

Shane hesitated. Stabilizing a wormhole required innumerable amounts of energy. But didn’t the prospect of cold fusion justify the risk?

“Divert all emergency energy reserves over the SETI radio emission,”

“Warning: Accessing emergency energy reserves during a non-emergency situation is strictly prohibited. Violators will have their NASA career terminated, and will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Are you sure you wish to continue?”

Indecision overloaded his brain. Was the gamble worth it?

“Yes,” he decided. “Once I develop cold fusion, petty energy regulations will be obsolete. Besides, NASA is already terminating my job. What can I lose?”

“Send the energy,” he directed the computer. “Send it all.”

Shane waited anxiously for blessing of cold fusion to arrive. It never came. After an hour passed with no word from LI, the chill of despair began to creep upon Shane. Then it happened. The sun began to die. First the light shining through the skylight dimmed, as if a cloud passed beneath the sun, yet no cloud was in sight. Gradually, the life drained out of the sky, leaving the cold husk of the earth devoid of a star.

“What’s happening!” Shane cried, panicking as darkness engulfed the room. “Where is the sun? Where are the cold fusion instructions?”

LI’s transmission answered all his questions.

“There never were coldfusion instruction.” The computer’s impassive voice seemed to take on a sinister tone as it related the message in pitch black room. “Our planet is stricken by an energy crisis just as catastrophic as yours. Our civilization was on the verge of collapse, when the ability to open wormholes fell into our hands. Our scientists developed the means to steal the energy directly from a star, and all that was left was to find an intelligent civilization to stabilize the wormhole on their end. We will be closing the wormhole to prevent retaliation. Don’t take this personally.”

Shane collapsed into his chair, overwhelmed. They had used him. They had stolen his sun.

“All is lost for earth,” he thought despairingly “In just one weak the entire earth will be below the freezing point of water. That’s exactly when I’ll be out of a job,” he thought, as a bitter smile stretched his lips.

But all was not lost. One final transmission arrived. It did not contain the magical blueprints of cold fusion, but rather a more practical set of instructions. Shane lifted his head from his hands as he heard the computer describe a set of steps: the steps to steal energy from a star.

Shane knew what he had to do.



“It’s time to find intelligent life,” Shane said with a smile.