06Oct24
~700 words, 4 minutes
The countdown clock blinked: 00:00:10. The voice of the mission control operator echoed through the launch center. “Ten seconds to ignition. All systems go.”
On the launchpad, the SpaceX rocket stood tall, its white body glinting under the bright sun. Engineers watched intently as the countdown reached zero. “Ignition sequence start,” announced the operator, his voice steady.
The rocket roared to life, sending waves of heat rippling through the air. It shot upward, piercing the atmosphere with a trail of fire and smoke. But just as it broke through to the upper stratosphere, alarms blared in the control room.
“System fault detected. Engines one and three reporting malfunction,” came a frantic voice. The screens displayed red error codes, filling the room with a sense of urgency.
“Abort. Engage the backup,” the mission director ordered. But before the command could be executed, a flash of light exploded on the screen. A section of the rocket’s payload bay split open, scattering fragments like shrapnel into the cold void. Among the debris, a small, unnoticed piece of metal shot out, tumbling into the dark, carried away on an escape velocity path.
“Insurance will cover it,” sighed the director, rubbing his temple. The room settled into resigned acceptance. After all, mishaps like these had become almost routine. No one paid much attention to the flickering radar signature that faded into the distance.
The starship New Dawn glided silently through the inky black of space, its massive hull dwarfing the distant glimmers of stars. Captain Drana, a descendant of the ancient human species, stood at the observation deck, watching the unfamiliar star system grow larger on the display.
“Report,” she commanded, turning to her second-in-command, Vessa, whose silvery skin shimmered under the console lights.
“We’ve detected an unusual cluster of artificial structures,” Vessa replied, her voice a melodic hum. “Nine planets, all orbiting a yellow dwarf star. The radar signatures are…strange. Not like any we’ve seen before.”
“Show me,” Drana said, leaning forward.
The holographic display shifted, revealing a three-dimensional map of the star system. Thousands of machines moved between planets, sleek robots and cylindrical spaceships. Some hovered near asteroids, drilling into their rocky surfaces. Others operated massive factories, pulling materials from barren moons.
“What are they building?” Drana asked, her curiosity piqued.
Vessa zoomed in on one of the larger structures—a towering assembly line that spanned a small moon. As the image sharpened, the form of a colossal rocket came into view, its surface intricately carved.
Drana raised an eyebrow. “Is that… a face?”
Vessa suppressed a laugh. “It appears to be a 3D mold of a human face. Cross-referencing historical databases… it’s an ancient Earth figure. Records identify him as Elon Musk.”
Drana’s expression shifted from confusion to amusement. “Elon Musk? Why would a star system of autonomous machines worship an ancient industrialist?”
“Unknown, but they seem to follow a strict protocol,” Vessa replied, bringing up more data. “They extract minerals, build rockets, and launch them on a precise schedule. They’ve been doing it for eons.”
As they watched, another rocket launched from one of the planets, its engines roaring to life. It soared into the void, a tribute to a man long dead, its metallic face forever smiling.
“Do they even know why they’re doing this?” Drana mused, her voice softer. “Or are they just following old commands, echoes from a forgotten era?”
Vessa shrugged, her expression thoughtful. “Maybe they inherited some piece of data from a long-lost Earth mission. Maybe it’s all they know.”
Drana watched the procession of machines below, weaving between the planets in a dance as ancient as the stars themselves. “Prepare a probe. Let’s dig deeper into their databases. Perhaps we’ll find the origin of their strange rituals.”
The starship turned, moving closer to the planets where robots continued their tireless work. Below, in the factories and mines, machines went about their endless tasks, oblivious to the watchers above, repeating the same patterns written in their codes. Somewhere, buried deep within the circuits of a forgotten machine, lay a fragment of debris that had once shot out of the upper stratosphere—a relic of a time when humanity still thought it controlled its destiny.