Starship Odyssey | ONC 2021

Chapter Six - The One Percent Chance

The Third Circle Theo-Mathematician, whose name was best expressed as five simultaneous C-notes, was ushered into the mustering pod by an entourage of excited Zeteticists. To say she was skeptical of their claims was an understatement; she still hadn't decided if she was going to have them executed for blasphemy yet. It would depend on what they had to show her.

Then she heard it; felt it resonate in the deepest core of her crystals. She knew at once what she heard was what had the Zeteticists so worked up.

Five-Cs couldn't begin to describe what she was hearing. It sounded like mathematical equations, but there was something sublime about them. Transcendent. They reached out and touched the soul. There was only one possible interpretation: these were the equations that would calculate the name of God. It was exactly at the Holy Records had prophesized.

Five-Cs hesitantly approached the unpleasantly smooth, rounded alien thing that seemed to contain within it the destiny of her people. She reached out to touch it, but before she could get close enough something hot snapped in the air and she quickly withdrew her manipulator in pain.

"It is as we reported," came the ringing voice of one of the Zeteticists. Five-Cs couldn't tell them apart in those exoskins. "A holy relic."

The Zeteticists saw it. Even the Battlemongers, and the others, the lowest of the ship's serfs, could see the mystical significance of what they had found.

Excitement crackled like electricity. Five-Cs knew her lessers were looking to her for spiritual guidance. The situation was unprecedented. She would have to trust in the inspiration of the divine.

"Gather around one and all," she announced. "We are all unworthy of this honor, to hear the name of God. We must all show submission!"

The group surrounded the alien relic, like it was a Theo-Mathematician giving a lecture, and began to move and sway. Five-Cs could hear it too, and she joined them. These movements were commanded by the equations. Commanded by God.

They were nothing. They were specks of dirt as compared to the sun. Five-Cs could feel it resonate within her. Peer into the deepest recesses of her soul. She was naked, naked before God!

"We must shed ourselves of these coverings! This is a holy place!" she exclaimed.

She started to tear off her clothes. The others joined her.

Religious zeal overwhelmed them.

* * *

<It occurs to me that we're really bad at this.>

"Given the circumstances I'm not sure I agree," said Dr. Birdwhistle. "In absolute terms, obviously, this is an unmitigated disaster. However given the fact that we are not a contact team, and thus are entirely lacking in expertise in this area, while also accounting for the various vicissitudes of uncontacted alien cultures, I would say we're doing only slightly below average."

"I was told we were going to be investigating celestial anomalies," added Dr. Eisenstein. "If I knew there would be a first contact scenario I would have prepared for one."

"It's not that bad," said Lulu. Her tone implied she was trying to convince herself as much as the others. "We'll straighten all this out once we can translate their language well enough to have a proper conversation."

"You're going to 'straighten out' their religious experience?" asked Dr. Fido. "Dr. Simian is skeptical."

Dr. Fido puppeteered his little purple monkey expressing skepticism. 

<The reason I pointed out how bad, really unusually bad, we seem to be at dealing with uncontacted aliens is that I'm fairly confident in my ability to translate their language now. Having a probe inside their ship has given me quite a viable sample of their spoken language.>

"That's great!" exclaimed Lulu.

<I am concerned it is not. I would like to reiterate how remarkably bad at this we have been up until now.>

"This is something we should figure out together," said Lulu.

<Agreed.>

Lulu sat back down in her command throne, relaxed herself into the neck rest, and allowed her consciousness to meld with that of Odysseus. Their two distinct perspectives combined into a single expanded one.

"Have you met Dr. Simian?" Dr. Fido asked Dr. Eisenstein. "The good doctor likes to eat bananas."

"I wish you would stop calling that thing a doctor," said Dr. Birdwhistle. "It's not a doctor."

"Dr. Simian has a PHD in Monkey Business!" Dr. Fido growled.

There was a long uncomfortable silence. Eventually Lulu opened her eyes.

"Okay," she said. "New plan is we contact the aliens and attempt some damage control. We try to put out this current fire before we set any new fires. So we'll start with the usual introductions then try to, I suppose, explain music."

"Oh is that all?" asked Dr. Birdwhistle.