NaNoWriMo Update for Nov. 5: I have some text written!

So, as I mentioned in my previous NaNo post, I completely forgot about this writing contest until pretty much the first of November.

That being said, I spent the first of November brainstorming story ideas. After coming up with four good ones (and they're story ideas I'll likely pursue as independent projects; woohoo for me!), I managed to pick one that really resonated with me. I started actually writing on 2 Nov, but I didn't get nearly as much done as I needed to. There were a couple of reasons for this.

First, I can't write when I'm at home. I have tried and tried, but between spending time with my daughter (because I work 10 hours a day, 6 days a week I don't see her as much as I should) and helping around the house to help de-stress my wife, I can never seem to form a coherent enough string of words to make any worthwhile contributions to my stories. Second, and related to the first, work has been extremely busy. I work at a vape shop, and since the flow of customers is irregular, I have a fair amount of downtime that I spend for writing stuff on here and for other projects. This last week has been a lot busier than normal, so I've had far less time to write.

That being said, I have managed to hit 3,300 words as of twenty minutes ago, so I'm now going to post this update and provide you with what I've written so far!

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Wake up…

The weightlessness of the void translated to his dreamless rest, and his mind floated through a blank eternity, aware only that he existed. He was, and he was certain of this much. Just like the faceless void outside the confines of his second shell, his inner void was a weightless darkness. Still, a voice pierced the darkness, calling out to him.

Wake up…

He strained to hear it against the deafening silence, like it was a whisper spreading through the vast expanse, losing energy as it traveled. It sounded familiar, like something old and well-worn, but it still felt alien. He shouldn’t have recognized the voice speaking to him, and yet, he found himself struggling to recall where he remembered it from. Some long forgotten corner of his consciousness tugged at him, pleading for him to remember, but it was fruitless. The only thing he found when he looked inward was an empty nothingness.

“Wake up, Pilot,” a voice said in his mind. This one was different than the one he’d struggled to ascertain. This was a voice he knew well, and his mind drifted back into consciousness. The sensation of his limbs greeted him first, followed by the link between him and his vessel. Optical sensors flashed to life as he opened his eyes, scanning the small space around him.

“Where are we, Ryla?” The second consciousness, the one that inhabited that second shell, provided a wealth of information to him, and he saw the expanse of space outside their craft as a simulated image. He took a second to process the information before it was organized into a recognizable form.

They had traveled a great distance, covering hundreds of units across the arm of the galaxy they had been assigned to survey. They’d worked their way methodically back and forth, travelling to the far reaches of the galactic arms before turning and heading back toward the interior. Their task was to catalog and classify every planetary system that was considered habitable, and it had been a long, tedious process. Across the timeless expanse of space, they had cataloged thousands of worlds, analyzing them for composition, the presence of water, and their carrying capacity for civilization. Sadly, despite the dazzling array of evolutionary solutions that life had accomplished on these myriad worlds, there were no advanced civilizations. Despite their best efforts, they’d found no one to greet them, either with open arms or readied weapons.

What they had found, though, were the remains of civilizations that had once dotted this sector of the cosmos. Across a handful of worlds, they’d discovered barren wastes that were once home to races that had reached for the stars and succeeded. They had conquered their own planets, mastered the physical universe, and expanded their reach to their home systems. Towering structures and drifting hulks were a silent testimony to their triumphs. These were races that were not content to simply survive. They strove for much more, and they achieved more than their ancestors could have dreamed of. Yet they were all extinct. Those towering structures and derelict ships were all tombs; silent, empty reminders of civilizations that once were but existed no longer. It was a pattern that he had begun to suspect would never be broken during their exploration of space.

He examined the data that he’d been provided. From where they were, they’d have to approach through a dense cloud of rocky masses and gas before they’d enter the system proper. Long range scans indicated that there were eight planets orbiting a medium-sized star in various orbits. Of those eight, four were gas giants that would likely not host anything living, and two of the remaining four were far too close to the star to likely be habitable. They would tour the entire system, of course; he left no stone unturned, a sentiment shared by Ryla with regards to their exploration. However, he’d focus the bulk of their efforts on the third and fourth planets. If any worlds were host to life, it would be those.

Sifting through the data provided by Ryla identified something else that provided a source of encouragement: there was a fair amount of broadcast traffic on a number of frequency bands. By the look the signals, they were all automated telemetry carrier signals and nothing more - not very encouraging as a sign of active civilization - but it gave him a starting point to investigate at the very least. To his surprise, the nearest signal was emanating from the sixth planet in the system. If there was signs of colonization on a gas giant, perhaps there was still some hope for a small vestige of what once was.

“Ryla, set a course for the sixth planet,” he said, willing the imagery away from eyes. It was replaced instead with a real-time image of the expanse of space around them. While there was a fair amount of distortion due to the lensing effect of the warped spacetime around them, he could still make out the protective shell of asteroids and proto-stellar detritus as they passed through it. As they slowed to avoid impacts and collisions, some of the larger forms came into sharper focus, offering him a glimpse of dwarf planetary bodies and bizarrely-shaped asteroids. It was the random beauty of the universe on full display, something he never tired of witnessing.

It didn’t take long for them to pass through the cloud and enter the system proper. With the threat of collision dramatically reduced, Ryla increased the warp effect around their small craft, zooming toward the source of the nearest signal. Glancing across the star system, he took note of the deep hues that characterized the outermost two planets. He’d have to orbit both of them before they left, if only to allow them to admire their beauty. The thought amused him, as he found far more value in admiring the beauty of things than Ryla did. He didn’t fault her for it, though; rather, it provided a fantastic counterbalance to his own preferences. On more than one occasion during their travels, he’d found himself inexplicably angered by the emptiness of the relics they’d come across, and she’d been there to draw him back to the focus of their mission. Still, despite the dichotomy between them, their two personalities had begun to blend together. Where her steadfast adherence to their directives had helped him develop a sense of purpose, his appreciation for the chaotic beauty apparent around them had sparked the same sort of sentiment in her mind as well.

As they approached their destination, the field around his second shell began to normalize, and the goldenrod gas giant came into full view. They were still a good distance away, but from his vantage point, the system of rings that encircled the planet were clearly visible and shone dramatically in the distant light from the local star. A quick survey of the area around it revealed over fifty moons, including the moon from which the automated signal emanated from. Making a quick course correction, they made their way towards the largest of those moons, approaching the starward side of the planetary system and bringing their destination into view.

“What can you tell me about that satellite, Ryla?” No sooner had the thought left his mind then information appeared in front of him, framing the exterior view being broadcast directly to him. Ahead of them lay the signal source, a globe with a smooth exterior colored in shades of coppery orange.

“It is the most massive satellite orbiting this planet, Pilot,” she said, her voice maintaining that lilting quality he so enjoyed hearing when he was awake. “Despite its relative ranking, surface gravity is apparently minimal. Scans of the atmosphere indicate there is considerable atmospheric pressure, with a high concentration of nitrogen, followed by methane and hydrogen, with trace amounts of methane, carbon dioxide and monoxide, argon, and helium. Surface scans indicate numerous large deposits of liquid methane, ethane, and water ice, along with rocky hydrocarbon deposits comprising the non-liquid portions of the surface.”

“Show me where the signal is originating,” he said, and his view was once again modified with a wire-frame overlay of the planet’s surface, indicating that the signal was being broadcast from the far side of the planet from their location. A dashed line indicated the trajectory she had chosen for their approach, and she adjusted the orientation of their vessel in order to approach at the most optimal angle. Their transit was short, and before long their craft was being buffeted by the dense atmosphere of the moon. Ryla was quick to correct their course and control the ship as they navigated the winds, transforming the shape of their vessel into a sharp delta wing to better manage the atmospheric turbulence. He was pleased to find that her initial projections about the surface gravity were correct; it was minimal, which, when coupled with the thick atmosphere, allowed them to use minimal power to achieve a smooth entry and approach. As they neared their destination and dove below the upper smog cover, the structure he was looking for came into view.

There was nothing particularly spectacular about the structure that was broadcasting the signal they’d found when they first approached. Spread across a twenty kilometer area, it appeared to be production facility of some kind, with a central hub built into a stark white, hexagonal building and a web of connecting tunnels spanning out across the solid surface to numerous substations, each of them white with different colored markings. Most of the substations bordered the hydrocarbon lakes that Ryla had mentioned earlier and were likely pumping or collection facilities that fed back into the central hub; the different colored stripes seemed to correspond with different functions. The largest of these substations appeared to be some sort of habitation module, which sported solid green stripes across both long ends of the rectangular structure, about three kilometers from the central hub; the presence of viewing windows along the exterior indicated as much. Likely this was designed as a permanent settlement with accommodations for both workers and their counterparts, assuming this particular civilization had concepts of social bonding that necessitated co-habitation.

Given the high concentration of hydrocarbons on the satellite’s surface, this kind of structure was anything but surprising; in all but two instances that he and Ryla had witnessed first-hand, civilizations had relied on hydrocarbons to achieve spaceflight and begin colonizing their local system. Some had been more frugal than others concerning their use of these materials, but virtually all of them invested heavily in mining and processing operations on satellites and planets that had an abundance of these materials. As they made a slow circle of the facility, he spotted what was likely an entry point into the facility from the exterior and what appeared to be a structure built for craft to land on. Picking up on his point of interest, Ryla adjusted their approach, bringing their craft in an arc around the hexagonal structure and positioning them to land on the flat surface.
He braced himself for the impact, though he was certain it would be minimal given the miniscule gravitational pull of the celestial body beneath him. The exterior of the craft shifted, Ryla calling the myriad individual carbon machines that comprised their small vessel to extend support struts as she brought it to a gentle rest upon the hexagonal hub below them. The additional data that had been displayed to him was pushed away and a readout of the ambient exterior temperature and radiation levels took its place. His viewpoint changed as well, rendering him blind for a moment as he prepared to exit the craft. He sank down through the body of the craft, righting himself as he was deposited on the flat surface of the landing pad. The cold wouldn’t be an issue unless he subjected himself to it for a very long period; the carbon nano-scale machines that comprised his body were made from the same materials as those that built their ship, and they were able to operate under the most intense environmental stresses imaginable. Once he was clear of the craft, his optical sensors were able to survey his immediate area first-hand.

He’d borne witness to the most monumental testaments to sentient ingenuity and hubris. Together, he and Ryla had observed enormous, intricate celebrations of any number of civilizations inscribed into forms made of silica, metals, and other materials. While most had crumbled under the inexorable procession of entropy, some had managed to withstand this test of time. What he saw here was not that at all. What stood before him was little more than a functional construction. It had been designed to operate in extreme environments, like he was, but it was utilitarian; there was no dramatic flare or timeless quality to it.

“Whoever built this likely never imagined it would outlive them,” he mused, the thought travelling to Ryla and eliciting a slight chuckle.

“How many times have we witnessed the machines that powered life outlive their creators,” she questioned, the amusement in her tone plainly evident. It was true. More times than not, the lowly, utilitarian constructs that likely never elicited a thought from the civilizations they supported were the very structures that now stood as the most well-preserved records of their past existence. “It seems to be a pattern that transcends species and location.”

He walked across the landing pad, one foot in front of the other, approaching what appeared to be an external door sealing in the atmosphere within the hub. A digital display panel beside the door likely operated it when the facility was fully powered, but it hung lifelessly from its bracket now. A quick examination of the door itself indicated that the clear panels that straddled the center seal were made of a thick pane of polymer material which would be simple enough to cut through. Walking up to the exterior door, he lifted one hand up, willing the nanomachines that were fashioned into four fingers and an opposable thumb into cylindrical blades no wider than a single machine. They oriented in a uniform pattern to provide increased compressive strength, and he placed the cylinder against the polymer pane, cutting a portion of it out from the larger whole. Once the hole was cut, he pushed it away from where it had rested, leaving an opening about the size of his closed fist. He took a brief moment to encode his body for reassembly before sending himself through the hole to the other side.
Like sand pouring out of a container, the dark gunmetal gray particles that comprised him flowed through the hole into the chamber on the other side. As they slid through the opening, they reformed into his shape. First, his feet were formed, with his legs being built on top of them and up into his torso. His arms formed out from his shoulders after, and, lastly, his neck filled up into his head. Once the process was complete, a thin slit along the front of the inverted teardrop shape that sat on top of his neck reformed, providing his optical sensors with eyes to see ahead. It was always a strange experience for him; he was aware that time and distance had passed from the last time he was conscious of himself and his surroundings, but it was recorded as data only. Visually, he simply blinked from one point to another.

The door on the other side of the chamber was much easier to access. For this, he was thankful; he hated damaging or defacing relics in order to gain access to inner chambers. If that was the only way forward, he dealt with it, but he chose the least intrusive method possible. In this case, the piece of polymer that he’d carved out was picked up and nudged halfway into place. He’d remove it and exit the same way he’d come in, and he’d return it to its previous position after he left. Approaching the second door, he lifted his hands and pressed them against the seal along the center of the two sections. This seal was far less impervious than the previous door had been, and he was able to push progressively more of the nanomachines comprising his body into the space, prying it open. He suspected that, at one point, it had been operated by some sort of magnetic railing system as evidenced by the metallic groaning that echoed through the interior space as he forced the doors along the old, metal tracks they now rested on. Once there was enough space for him to slip through, he slid into the facility proper and took a look around.

The interior space appeared to be a refinery, confirming his prior suspicions as to the purpose of the facility. The door he’d entered from appeared to be an individual entrance adjacent to a larger cargo door a dozen meters to his right, and the area he now stood in was where refined products and collected hydrocarbon freight was prepared for transportation elsewhere in the local star system. The floor and walls were as utilitarian as the exterior of the building had been on approach; a plain, off-white was the color of choice for the race that had built this particular structure, with a solid blue stripe along the top of the walls against the ceiling indicating it as the central hub. Turning to examine the door he’d just come through, he noticed a few placards that had been attached to the wall beside it.

Based on the prominent coloring and use of bold and italicized text, as well as the presence of multiple languages, it was likely some kind of safety warning regarding use of this door to exit the facility. Sensible, he figured, given the dramatic cold that existed on the other side of those two doorways he’d entered through. The language displayed at the top gave him pause, though. He sat and stared at the grouping of characters, trying to discern their precise message and experiencing the strange sensation that he should know how to read them.

“Ryla, have we seen these kinds of characters before,” he asked, motioning to the first lines of text.

“No, Pilot,” she replied promptly, “we haven’t come across a language that utilized these characters before. There were two we cataloged in star system A1HG32114618 that were similar to this, but none precisely the same.”

For a long moment, he didn’t move, looking over each character carefully and indexing his memories to discern the reason he’d have this thought. In their entire journey together, this was new territory; they’d never entered this section of space before, and all of the artifacts and relics they’d found, even if they were from competing civilizations, had been cataloged and ordered. Everything was in its place and nothing was unaccounted for, so the reason why he’d find this text familiar escaped him. For a moment, he was reminded of the voice he’d heard in the depthless expanse of time that he’d been in stasis. There was something more to it, he was certain, but no answers were forthcoming. Resolving to spend more time on these thoughts later, he turned away from the placard and continued into the facility. Lines of light spread across his body, beginning at his outermost extremities and making their way inward, crisscrossing in a regular pattern across his torso and up his neck before terminating in a bright, forward-facing light above his eyes. It wouldn’t provide much light, but it would be enough to illuminate a fifty meter area around him; more than enough light to explore this facility and discern any useful details or clues as to the civilization that built it.

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Hope you guys enjoyed what I have so far! Upvotes and resteems are appreciated, and please, please let me know what you thought of it so far in the comments. This is going to be something of a new direction for me, so I'm charting unfamiliar waters. As always, follow my blog for future updates!