WretchedWren t1_jabq5k4 wrote on February 28, 2023 at 7:33 AM

Reply to comment by WretchedWren in [WP] You land on the moon, the first humans since 1969 to touch down. Before you can open the hatch to step outside, you hear a rhythmic knock on the hatch from outside. by JaxterSmith6

This repeated itself every hour or so for a while. A creature would knock, I would open the hatch, it would gesture for me to take off and leave, I would repeat that I couldn't, and the communication would end. Several times the creature would look at Hughes, as if comparing. Something told me that they knew he was dead. They certainly didn't seem hostile. Whatever it was that destroyed our systems and killed him didn't seem to be intentional. The fact that they wanted me to go certainly suggested that they automatically granted me the right to leave. Not the actions of killers.

This all finally changed one visit, perhaps 12 hours after landing, though I didn't really have a good read on the passing time. The creature spent some time talking to me, humming a wide variety and range of sounds. It finally stopped, waiting, expectantly. "I don't know what you are trying to tell me." It spread it's ... arms I guess I should call them, and then made a motion as if to come, or continue. "You want me to talk to you?" It repeated the gesture. "I hope that is what you mean." For lack of anything more apt to say, I began to describe the landing, the power loss, the surprise at seeing everything this way, finding the Hughes had not survived it, and the melted control boards, at the problems blocking my ability to launch again. It was a long list.

I finally finished, the creature spread it's appendages again, then pointed at the hatch, and turned to leave again. "Wait, did you understand anything I said this time?" I called after it. It paused, turned around, looked at me a moment, then pointed at the hatch. I sighed and closed it again. "Not making any progress. In here or out there.

There was a long wait till the next visit, noticeably longer. As the time passed, I realized exhaustion was catching up to me as my possible paths of exploration kept disappearing. I finally made the decision to return to my seat and get some sleep.

I awoke suddenly to the knocking. It must have been going on some time. Cycling the hatch open, I again saw the creature before me.

"Doo youu underrstandd mee?" The voice was high pitched and thrummed with a vibration. Like a bee talking into a fan. Surprised, I smiled, "Yes, I do understand you. Do you understand me?"

"Ii doo underrstandd youu."

"Wonderful," I replied, an odd sense of relief flooding through me. I realized how much less alone I felt.

"Wee havee analyzedd yourr voicee patternss withh thee assistancee off thee Orbb Thatt Talkss," it pointed up. At Earth.

"You can hear Earth?"

"Earthh. Yess. Itt iss whyy wee chosee too livee heree. Itt calledd uss."

"How did it call you?"

"Itt speakss intoo thee Greatt Blackk, announcingg itss presencee likee thee Greatt Lightss Thatt Spinn With Noise, butt slowlyy andd nott soo loudd."

My mind hunted for what he might be talking about. "Pulsars. You hear pulsars and their radio waves.""Ii doo nott knoww exactlyy whatt youu meann."

"Neutron stars that spin very fast and emit radio waves," I paused, turned and grabbed the checklist and pencil, flipping it over for the blank back. I quickly sketched a spinning ball, then pointed at the sun, "Stars," then at my sketch, "That spin very quickly, and make," I realized that its description was very accurate. "lots of noise."

"Yess. Ii seee youu knoww off themm. Theyy aree tooo loudd forr uss."

"That means you hear radio waves. Incredible. Where are you from?"

"Wee doo nott knoww. Ourr Orbb wass destroyedd beforee anyy off uss weree awaree."

"Oh," that didn't make a lot of sense, "And you came here to live?"

"Andd too listenn too Thee Orbb Thatt Talkss."

"And you made all of this?"

"Yess. Wee changedd thee surfacee andd thee skyy too livee. Butt wee aree feww and weakk. Wee mustt hidee too livee."

"You are refugees then. I understand that concept at least. Do you understand the problem with why I can't leave?"

"Yess. We havee underrstoodd thee problemm. Wee aree workingg onn aa solutionn."

"That is wonderful. Do you have any idea if you can succeed? I only have a limited supply of oxygen available."

"Whatt iss oxii genn?"

"It is what I need to breath. To live." I quickly sketched a representation of two oxygen atoms on the back of the checklist.

"Wee knoww thiss thingg. Theree iss muchh off itt onn thee Orbb Thatt Talkss. Wee cann createe itt, butt itt iss dangerrouss too uss."

Things just got a whole lot lighter.

WretchedWren t1_jabq6fi wrote on February 28, 2023 at 7:33 AM

I maintained regular communications with the creature, they called themselves something that sounded like "Yu-la", over the next several days. The status of process on a fix was always the same, which is to say no indication of any progress. But we did spend a great deal of time synchronizing each other's vocabulary as we learned more about each other. It took some time for me to understand that whatever passes for a generation among them is apparently shorter than a human generation, but that the number of generations since leaving their home surpassed their ability to track. It must have been sheer chance that they were passing near enough to the solar system in the past several decades to even pick up the radio waves we are broadcasting into space. They had diverted to investigate, and had found a wonderful potential home on our moon. Attempts to understand what kind of craft they traveled in was only met with confusion.

A second but empty capsule landed nearby while all of this was going on. It's arrival was detected early and caused a great deal of commotion, and an inspection of the capsule confirmed the same melted circuitry.

"What causes this?"

"Ourr shieldd thatt hidess uss iss dangerrouss too yourr craftss."

It didn't get any more helpful.

Eventually though, the Yula gave news that they could send the HLS and me back to Earth, but would provide no details as to how.

"Are you worried that my return will increase the threat to you from more like me?"

"Perhapss, butt wee doo nott thinkk yourr Aetchh Elll Eessess willl bee successsfull, andd Oxii genn." It spread it's appendages in a hopeless gesture.

Indeed. They had made the moon even more hostile than it ever was.

"Andd wee willl nott causee harmm."

Several days later I was strapped back into my flight chair, waiting on something. I never got a clue as to what they were going to do. I watched out the window, but saw nothing. The change came rapidly. One second I had ducked my head in exhaustion, only for that to be the moment in which they launched the HLS, pinning my chin to my chest for a few seconds. When I recovered and could look back, the surface of the moon looked it's normal pale grey again. I trusted them. If they said they could get the trajectory right, I felt I could believe them.

I think I owed them their safety. I should have been dead, but had another chance at life.