Retro Roadster

Will-E had his eyes closed, at least most of them, and was trying to beat his own record for counting seconds without interruption. Forty-nine million seven hundred and twenty-five thousand seventeen. Forty-nine million seven hundred...

Something sought his attention. A flashing light on the bridge's large display. And a sound, which after a while he identified as the voice of Sall-E. Damn. The record had been within reach.

"I don't recognise the flashing. Has it always been there?"

With an unhealthy-sounding crunch, Will-E straightened up and focussed on her, "At least since I can remember. The pattern means ONCOS."

Another face appeared behind Sall-E: Tomm-E.

"An object of non-catalogued origin and structure."

"As I said."

Together they approached the bridge and observed what information the mother ship was providing them. The description was vague and incomplete, but allowed the conclusion that it was not of natural origin. "Pure aluminium, iron, carbon, lithium? What kind of weird mixture is that?"

Shoulders. What did you do when you had no shoulders to shrug? Will-E decided not to react at all, but simply to give the order to collect the object so that they could have a look at it in peace. The mothership corrected course and informed them that they would probably reach the object in about thirty million seconds. Damn. That was definitely not enough time for another record attempt. What would he do until then? Probably nothing much.

About thirty million seconds later:

The entire crew had gathered in one of the rear storage rooms to receive the strange object. By now it had become known that there was work for them in this solar system and anyone who didn't know those present would probably have simply overlooked the euphoria, but it was there. As tangible as the ONCOS that had been piloted between them by the mothership.

They all held back until Jess-E, their expert in danger assessment, gave the green light. The thing looked strange, with its arches and huge holes, but it wasn't a threat. Although in her line of work, one was rather cautious with such general statements. Sometimes a remnant of something dangerous remains, for example the data carrier of malware. Would you then say it's harmless?

Semantics. What an invention. Probably as old as language itself.

Experiments and simulations were routinely carried out.

Moll-E theorised that they were the remains of a failed space experiment by a low-level civilisation. But the shape didn't really allow for this conclusion, even the lowest level of civilisation capable of leaving the atmosphere of its own planet should have discovered that a round design would be more energy efficient than this.

Will-E had his eyes closed, at least most of them, and was trying to beat his own record for counting seconds without interruption. Forty-nine million seven hundred and twenty-five thousand seventeen. Forty-nine million seven hundred...

Something sought his attention. A flashing light on the bridge's large display. And a sound, which after a while he identified as the voice of Sall-E. Damn. The record had been within reach.

"I don't recognise the flashing. Has it always been there?"

With an unhealthy-sounding crunch, Will-E straightened up and focussed on her, "At least since I can remember. The pattern means ONCOS."

Another face appeared behind Sall-E: Tomm-E.

"An object of non-catalogued origin and structure."

"As I said."

Together they approached the bridge and observed what information the mother ship was providing them. The description was vague and incomplete, but allowed the conclusion that it was not of natural origin. "Pure aluminium, iron, carbon, lithium? What kind of weird mixture is that?"

Shoulders. What did you do when you had no shoulders to shrug? Will-E decided not to react at all, but simply to give the order to collect the object so that they could have a look at it in peace. The mothership corrected course and informed them that they would probably reach the object in about thirty million seconds. Damn. That was definitely not enough time for another record attempt. What would he do until then? Probably nothing much.

About thirty million seconds later:

The entire crew had gathered in one of the rear storage rooms to receive the strange object. By now it had become known that there was work for them in this solar system and anyone who didn't know those present would probably have simply overlooked the euphoria, but it was there. As tangible as the ONCOS that had been piloted between them by the mothership.

They all held back until Jess-E, their expert in danger assessment, gave the green light. The thing looked strange, with its arches and huge holes, but it wasn't a threat. Although in her line of work, one was rather cautious with such general statements. Sometimes a remnant of something dangerous remains, for example the data carrier of malware. Would you then say it's harmless?

Semantics. What an invention. Probably as old as language itself.

Experiments and simulations were routinely carried out.

Moll-E theorised that they were the remains of a failed space experiment by a low-level civilisation. But the shape didn't really allow for this conclusion, even the lowest level of civilisation capable of leaving the atmosphere of its own planet should have discovered that a round design would be more energy efficient than this.

Will-E had his eyes closed, at least most of them, and was trying to beat his own record for counting seconds without interruption. Forty-nine million seven hundred and twenty-five thousand seventeen. Forty-nine million seven hundred...

Something sought his attention. A flashing light on the bridge's large display. And a sound, which after a while he identified as the voice of Sall-E. Damn. The record had been within reach.

"I don't recognise the flashing. Has it always been there?"

With an unhealthy-sounding crunch, Will-E straightened up and focussed on her, "At least since I can remember. The pattern means ONCOS."

Another face appeared behind Sall-E: Tomm-E.

"An object of non-catalogued origin and structure."

"As I said."

Together they approached the bridge and observed what information the mother ship was providing them. The description was vague and incomplete, but allowed the conclusion that it was not of natural origin. "Pure aluminium, iron, carbon, lithium? What kind of weird mixture is that?"

Shoulders. What did you do when you had no shoulders to shrug? Will-E decided not to react at all, but simply to give the order to collect the object so that they could have a look at it in peace. The mothership corrected course and informed them that they would probably reach the object in about thirty million seconds. Damn. That was definitely not enough time for another record attempt. What would he do until then? Probably nothing much.

About thirty million seconds later:

The entire crew had gathered in one of the rear storage rooms to receive the strange object. By now it had become known that there was work for them in this solar system and anyone who didn't know those present would probably have simply overlooked the euphoria, but it was there. As tangible as the ONCOS that had been piloted between them by the mothership.

They all held back until Jess-E, their expert in danger assessment, gave the green light. The thing looked strange, with its arches and huge holes, but it wasn't a threat. Although in her line of work, one was rather cautious with such general statements. Sometimes a remnant of something dangerous remains, for example the data carrier of malware. Would you then say it's harmless?

Semantics. What an invention. Probably as old as language itself.

Experiments and simulations were routinely carried out.

Moll-E theorised that they were the remains of a failed space experiment by a low-level civilisation. But the shape didn't really allow for this conclusion, even the lowest level of civilisation capable of leaving the atmosphere of its own planet should have discovered that a round design would be more energy efficient than this.