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WALL STREET UNDEAD
The planet spun slowly and sulkily in space, accompanied by a moon that
was an unusually large fraction of the parent body's size. This much
seemed to be in order, but the sickly looking ball it was locked in
orbit around was alarmingly unlike the brilliantly blue and white world
seen in the transmissions all those years ago.
The first being to be disturbed by this change for a great deal of time
was watching it from a great ship that had arrived in the planets orbit
some days ago. The hulking shell shaped vessel lurked above the
northern pole and displayed the sorry sight upon a giant screen deep
within its walls.
Mission Coordinator Treenus preened himself uneasily with one of the
thick rubbery limbs that sprouted from the top of his turnip like body,
currently encased in an almost all enveloping bronze cot which itself
extended snaking cables into the surrounding walls. With a steady whir
the top of the pod rotated to face a similar cot that was attached to a
bank of bulbous, semi-organic looking instruments.
"Vospid!
Getting no reply, as usual, and getting rather frustrated about it, he
extended another limb to the outer casing of his cot and pulled a
handle. Plopping clumsily to the floor the unwieldy creature shuffled
across to the other pod and sternly rapped upon its metallic surface.
"Vospid! Where are we? This does not look like the planet in the
transmission! The moon is about the right size but the planet never
looked like this!
A tangle of cables wrapped plait like around what appeared to be a
leathery hose extracted themselves suddenly from a socket in the
instrument bank with a bang. The top of the cot, which unlike the
Mission Coordinator's was sealed by a shiny silver dome, creaked open to
reveal a creature that was similar to but smaller and less bulky than
Treenus. It extruded several spiny limbs and waved them about in an
agitated fashion.
"What are you playing at? You know it's dangerous to interrupt me like
that when I'm wired! What do you want anyway I'm busy.
Offended, Treenus shimmied his bulky body angrily, turning a dark bruise
coloured purple.
"Don't talk to me like that. I'm the Mission coordinator and you're
just the pilot!
Pilot Vospid flicked a limb defiantly and wobbled his cot from side to
side.
"Interstellar travel's not easy you know, what with my brain patched
into a four dimensional supercomputer simulation and having to calculate
the space-time curvature all by myself. You just think yourself lucky
we didn't come out inside a star or something.
"I don't care about that, look at the scanner.
Vospid's cot spun around to face the screen that took up a whole wall of
the bridge. Unlike the fleshy eye tube that stuck out beneath Treenus'
limb cluster, Vospid had a cybernetically enhanced optical socket. A
green light on it flashed several times to indicate he was changing
between different modes of vision.
"We've arrived. So what.
Treenus rumbled in annoyance and fluctuated in hue some more. He was
rapidly losing patience with the flippant pilot.
"Look at the transmission. Look at the bit where they land that dear
little craft on their moon and the two little bipeds get out. The
planet in the sky is blue with wispy white clouds, not brown and dark
green and sicky orange like that.
Vospid let out a loud theatrical huff, causing Treenus to indulge in
more technicolour temper antics.
"If you jog your memory back to the mission briefing you will recall
that the transmission was one of the many tens of thousands we received
and catalogued before we developed in the seven hundred gergons or so
before we developed star travel.
The signal with the moon landing on it was already over three hundred
gergons old when it was first detected and because of its remoteness
it's been waiting investigation for about the last two hundred and
fifty.
Treenus shuffled back and forth clenching his limbs together in a
frustrated ball above his lumpy form, which shimmered bright pink.
"I can assure you we've arrived in the right system. Something
unpleasant has obviously happened to the planet the transmission came
from. The data in one of the signals seemed to indicate that the
dominant life forms here breathed the oxygen content of a predominantly
nitrogen atmosphere. What we have below us is a choking pall of carbon
dioxide, carbon monoxide and a whole host of other poisonous nasties.
Treenus shot out a limb, grabbed the rim of his cot and climbed back in
it, turning on the ceremonial lamp attached to the bottom.
"We'll have to get the rest of the crew up here then.
A lens shaped apparatus in the floor opened and moments later the rest
of the crew ascended to the bridge one by one.
Gathered in a circle about the Mission Coordinator's cot were
Exobiologist Kwengut, who fidgeted with the specialized sniffer
apparatus attached to his own pod in a way that tended to annoy the
others.
Next to him was the small hovering metal globe, which encased
Exoarchaeologist Hurnan, who was of the rarer intermediate sex.
Following the unremarkable Ensign Jirjod was the enormous female bulk of
Engineer Unhorgin, who occupied a heavy duty cot that was covered in
makeshift repair panels and dents from where it had been hit by falling
tools and suchlike.
They all stared uncomfortably at the sorry sight that greeted them on
the scanner.
Changing the colour of his ceremonial lamp to a suitably mournful hue,
Treenus cleared his throats noisily.
"Alright then. Who's got any idea of what happened here?
Kwengut was the first to put forward a suggestion as to what the
unpleasant fate of the planet before them had been.
"Maybe they were colonized by some sort of machine intelligence that
converted the atmosphere artificially.
Unhorgin sneered at such a ludicrous idea.
"You know as well as all of us that there's no machine intelligences in
this part of the galaxy. Besides, why would they convert the
atmosphere of a small rocky planet such as this one?
Jirjod piped up, eager to gain favour with Treenus.
"Fuel? Perhaps they were after a source of fuel.
Unhorgin rumbled deeply in mockery.
"Pah! The Ensign must really be a hatchling if he thinks that a machine
intelligence, which tend to be super-efficient by nature, would single
out one small insignificant rock and then leave the rest of the system
untouched.
Jirjod shrank back into his cot, embarrassed.
"I didn't suggest a machine intelligence. It was Kwengut, remember!
Kwengut clipped him lightly with a limb.
"That's Exobiologist Kwengut to you, Squib.
Unhorgin waved at the pair to be quiet and continued.
"As I was saying, there are four gas giants in this system, all loaded
to the brim with volatiles necessary for fuel production. A machine
intelligence, or anyone else with the technology and the intention for
that matter, would strip the gas giants and leave.
Vospid felt the need to interject at this point.
"They are rather piddly little gas giants though. Even the biggest one
fails to impress the seasoned traveller. Yar-Grumbar would swallow all
of them.
A murmur of agreement passed through the circle. Kwengut was the next
to offer an interesting snippet of information.
"Did anybody know that the critters that used to live here only had two
sexes? They still couldn't get along! Only two sexes!
Everybody laughed except Hurnan, who wobbled hirself in an offended
fashion. The humour had not been directly targeted at hir as it usually
was, but being the only member of the intermediate gender in the crew
had led to the development of a siege mentality.
"I think it was the nukes myself.
Everyone turned to look at the diminutive intermede.
"Yep. They had nukes, and they used them too. Several times in fact.
"Hmm. There is a higher level of radiation at the surface than there
should be, given the density of the cloud cover, but that doesn't
explain the atmosphere, and plus there's still some form of activity
going on down there. We'll have to take a closer look.
Jirjod knew what was coming.
You're not going to have us go down there are you?
"You read my mind.
The ruined city sprawled across the east coast of one of the northern
continents like the carcass of some huge slain beastie. Decaying
buildings poked out of the thick yellow fog like ribs, and continuing
with the stricken corpse theme, a group of flying metal pods buzzed
around in the gloom like interested flies.
A loud bang echoed through the abandoned streets as one of the many
rusting vehicles was turned over by the curious Ensign Jirjod.
"Ensign! We didn't come here to trash the place! Somebody appears to
have done quite a good job of that already.
Jirjod turned his attention from the ancient car to the Mission
Coordinator.
"I was just inspecting it. It looks a little bit like an ancient cot,
you know, the type you see in museums. The ones from when we still
bothered with wheels.
Treenus hovered closer to get a better look.
"Yes. Probably used for a similar purpose, but bipeds as a rule don't
tend to be so reliant on symbiotic machinery as the likes of us.
Jirjod indicated around him with a spare limb as he began cutting a tank
lose from the underside of the machine.
"All these roads around here indicate otherwise. They seem to have been
designed with these things in mind. Didn't they build such large
structures for such tiny creatures?
The tank fell away with a clunk and Treenus grabbed it with an
artificial limb, dragging it into his cot for analysis.
"Yes. These buildings are huge. Either there was an enormous
population here or these critters were hooked on appearancesˇ Hey, I
just got some results for what was in that tank.
Without warning the tank shot out of Treenus' cot, disappearing into the
gloom and clattering to the ground somewhere in the distance.
"Yuck! It was contained residual traces of some really nasty chemicals
indeed. I thinkˇI think it must have been the fuel tank!
"Surely not.
It could begin to explain how the atmosphere got like this. Look at the
feed from the ships scanners.
Jirjod whirred and clicked for a few seconds.
"There are billions of these things lying abandoned over the entire
planet!
Hurnan and Kwengut had seperated from the others some time ago and had
now come across the first signs of activity on the apparently dead
planet. Shining through the gloom was a beacon of some sort, a pair of
big glowing yellow curves. When they came closer, they found that the
symbol was perched atop a strange looking hut made from ceramic tiles.
Kwengut emitted a loud beep.
"I'm registering some sort of biological presence in there! Damn, I
won't fit through the door, you'll have to go.
Not too pleased at being reminded of hir size, but seeing the logic in
the request, Hurnan flitted through the entrance to the odd
construction, and was immediately perplexed.
The inside of the building was lined with the same tiles as the outside,
but in here they were polished until shiny, despite the beings who had
built the place being dead for centuries. A statue of one of the
creatures stood to one side of the room, sporting a ridiculous yellow
costume and a shock of red hair. Hurnan wondered whether they all
looked like that.
The whole place still seemed to be going. It was incredible. The
source of all the activity seemed to be coming from the back. That must
be where Kwengut's biological presence was.
Hurnan squeezed hir cot through the window at the back of the room,
chipping the tiles, to find a conveyor belt that must have been rolling
for at least the last five hundred gergons, and next to it a large messy
pile of small grey discs and spongy yellow things. Scooping up a sample
of both, Hurnan left to show hir find to the waiting Kwengut.
"What's this? asked Kwengut when proffered two of the items Hurnan had
found in the building.
"I think it's some of the biological matter you were looking for.
"I don't think so said the Exobiologist as he placed the stuff on a
sliding tray potruding from his cot.
"Well I never. It is biological, just. This should have degraded eons
ago. I wonder what they used it for?
"Food?
"Food!
Kwengut spluttered.
"Nobody in their right mind would eat this stuff. It's virtually made
of plastic.
Hurnan was troubled.
"There's a conveyor belt still working in there and the whole room is
spotless. It looked to me like some kind of meeting place. I think
they must have eaten those things.
"Only if they wanted to be riddled with tumours.
"They are extinct remember. It must be automated. There must be a
power source somewhere.
Treenus and Jirjod rounded a corner marked with a sign, which was
covered in glyphs, "Wall Street."
"The signals getting stronger. It's coming from in there.
Treenus harumphed.
"I'll never fit in there. You'll have to go.
Jirjod spun around agitatedly and squirted a jet of steam from his cot.
"I'm not going in there. I'm just the Ensign and my first trip is going
horribly wrong already!
Treenus' legendary temper was beginning to heat up.
"Well you shouldn't have come in the first place, you should have just
stayed home with your brood mother like a podling!
The petulant junior released another jet of steam.
"I'm getting sick of you and your insults. When we get back to the ship
I'm going to propose a vote for a new Mission Coordinator!
The present Mission Coordinator rumbled in amusement.
"Who's going to listen to you squirt?
Both were quiet for a few minutes as neither could really think of a
suitably witty comeback.
"Hey," said Jirjod, "what about the probes?"
"Well, they chew up power and they're known to be unreliable but oh
well," said Treenus resignedly.
Both the visitors released small glowing orbs from beneath their cots,
which made their way into the towering building before them.
"I think I've got it Mission Coordinator.
"What?
"Computers. I think some sort of global computer network survived the
catastrophe that wiped out the creatures that created it.
"Hmm, and you think the core of it is in there."
"Yes! That building must have been important.
Treenus grumbled again.
"But what do these computers of yours do? Nothing much seems to go on
around here.
"That's hopefully what the probes will explain.
Kwengut and Hurnan arrived from their exploration of the strange tiled
building, their pods buzzing around the corner briskly.
"If the atmosphere didn't kill them then their diet did!" called Hurnan, holding out a floppy grey disc.
"Shhh," shushed Treenus, "We just sent some probes into that building.
It seems to be the source of the electronic signals."
Sure enough, after a few more minutes the glowing orbs emerged from the
interior of the building and reattached themselves to Treenus and
Jirjod.
"Right then. Let's exchange data," stated Treenus descisively.
Cables extended to link up the cots of all the visitors, who retracted
into their artificial shells to process the data that had been gathered
by the probes. They all emerged very puzzled indeed.
"So they just cycle the changing value of one variable around this whole
world?
Ensign Jirjod was out of his depth and considered retiring to the
mundane comforts of the Gurjid swamps upon returning home.
Treenus waved his limbs.
"Yep. They started when the creatures were still alive, and they've
kept doing it ever since. What's particularly curious is that the value
of the variable has gone right up since the big extinction event.
Kwengut piped up.
"What is this variable Mission Coordinator?
"A curious little symbol.
A screen lit up on Treenus' cot and displayed a row of the symbols"
"$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$"
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