, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Steph’s InMon challenge, from her BeKindReWrite blog, called to me across the dark void of space. This week I am submitting a little flash science fiction; Grey Sun was the chosen prompt, thanks to Wikipedia’s Collective Commons for the images.

* * *


Voyager has traversed into interplanetary space. The unmanned exploration craft has been drifting through the solar system for nearly forty years, getting farther from planet Earth and heading for outer space.

Voyager space probe

Voyager space probe

The planned missions were completed years ago, now it continues towards the void. Before it crossed the boundary, with a glance back over its shoulder, it took a last snapshot of our planetary family – Earth, just a tiny blue pixel amid a sheet of blackness, the scene illuminated by a grey sun.

But Voyager is not alone. On the side there is a gold plaque, inscribed with symbols and images to show where we are, what we look like, how we sound, and how to find us – incase there is anyone out there who wants to know. The plaque includes digital storage, and that is where I live. Not my body, you understand, but my being. My soul, if you like. All the little things that make me.

Before Voyager was launched the Stargate Project was running experiments in remote viewing, using agents’ psychic abilities to view remote places, to spy on enemy locations from the safety of their homeland. Russians had been investigation psi phenomena since the 60s, we were trying not to be left behind.

To be one step ahead the experiment went to extreme measures. My brain was scanned, probed, analysed. Every electron movement, every synapse connection was recorded – the spark of my being was extracted. All the data was processed and burned into the plaque. The real me is in this data plate. My corpse was cremated the same day as the launch – public attention was focussed on Cape Canaveral.

Voyager's golden record

Voyager’s golden record

Now I listen. Sometimes I hear voices, see faces. Earthly faces, my controller, my colleagues, the scientists who put me out here. We communicate. Sometimes the faces are strange, the voices – not voices, impressions, questioning. They are getting stronger as the earthly voices get weaker.

The electronic systems will fail in around ten years, when Voyager’s batteries finally die, then I shall be alone … except for the faces.

* * *

(c) 2013 K. Patrick Moody

Inspired by recent news of Voyager I entering interstellar space, my interest in the remote viewing Stargate Project, and the InMon Challenge of 9 September 2013