{"id":20615,"date":"2022-10-07T00:55:36","date_gmt":"2022-10-07T04:55:36","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/?p=20615"},"modified":"2022-10-07T00:56:10","modified_gmt":"2022-10-07T04:56:10","slug":"log-012","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/2022\/10\/07\/log-012\/","title":{"rendered":"LOG-012: A RADIO STATION AT THE EDGE OF SPACE"},"content":{"rendered":"

RADIO STATION – On the edge of an abyss a radio station floats above its plunging depths, rocking gently with the sway of invisible waves. It periodically broadcasts:<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThis is Station Merlin in Sector Gamma-Four with information Whiskey. Time\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

THE PILOT\u2019S CABIN – The voice filters through the holes of your ears, rousing you from a dreamless sleep.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

MIDNIGHT SUN<\/span> – Or was it so dreamless? Something teases at the edges of your subconscious. A flickering lamp, tongues of firelight\u2026\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

AUTHORITY <\/span>– Focus. These whimsies have no place in the land of the living.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

YOU – Shake off the thought.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

RADIO STATION – The audio briefly strengthens: \u201c…in use Two-Two Center. Transition level\u2026\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

MIDNIGHT SUN<\/span> – The only beat pulsing within light-years of your craft.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

ENCYCLOPEDIA <\/span>– Radio stations such as this one serve as crucial waypoints for interstellar navigators out in the far-flung reaches of deep space. Both a lighthouse and an information service hub, it is one of many in the vast constellation of the Trans Galactic Radio Network.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

ENDURANCE <\/span>– You attempt to sit up, but a wave of lightheadedness washes over you. Visual snow. A numbness tingles in your extremities.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

PAIN THRESHOLD<\/span> – This is nothing.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

YOU – Brace yourself against the wall and ride it out.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

THE PILOT\u2019S CABIN – Your sight clears. A thin thermal blanket is folded away in its cubby. A book lies on the floor below your cot, pages splayed and spine sticking up.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

REFLEXION<\/span> – The book is right underneath where one of your arms was hanging over the cot\u2019s edge. You must have fallen asleep while reading.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

YOU – Pick up the book.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

THE GOLDEN AGE OF INTERSTELLAR EXPLORATION, A HISTORY – It’s titled \u201cThe Golden Age of Interstellar Exploration, A History.\u201d The cover features an artistic render of a Space Bridge on the surface of some exoplanet, a set of complex arches backlit by an imploding supernova. A tiny figure stands alone before the gilded architecture with one fist raised.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

CONCEPTUALIZATION <\/span>– It\u2019s certainly eye-catching (or excessively gaudy, depending on who you ask) for a history book.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

RHETORIC <\/span>– Not to mention the scientific inaccuracies that you itch to point out.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

DRAMA <\/span>– And pray tell, to whom, my liege? There is only an audience of three: me, myself, and I.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

PERCEPTION (SIGHT)<\/span> – The cover art is faded and the corners are worn. The author\u2019s name is barely discernible. A strip of yellowing tape runs down the book spine. There\u2019s something small sticking out between the pages.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

REFLEXION<\/span> – This book is well-loved, albeit old. Chronic radiation exposure and handling has dulled its colors.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

YOU – Flip the book open.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

THE GOLDEN AGE OF INTERSTELLAR EXPLORATION, A HISTORY – The introduction reads: \u201cFor centuries after the Space Race, interstellar travel to any extrasolar systems remained a distant fantasy. Travel and information were hard-limited by the speed of light. As conditions worsened on Earth, there was no more time for dreams. Humanity lost interest and space programs fell by the wayside in favor of tackling problems on the ground.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

ENCYCLOPEDIA <\/span>– Until the discovery of an anomaly at the edge of the Solar System, just beyond the shadow of Pluto.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

PERCEPTION <\/span>– Something unperceivable, only describable by the lack of it.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

LOGIC <\/span>– A scientifically inexplicable phenomenon.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

MIDNIGHT SUN<\/span> – A hole in the fabric of reality.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

L’APPEL DU VIDE<\/span> – The abyss.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

THE GOLDEN AGE OF INTERSTELLAR EXPLORATION, A HISTORY – \u201c…some saw it as a warning, others, a blessing. Love it, fear it, or hate it, the *manifold* undeniably reignited space interest and within a decade, numerous space probes were sent off to explore the unknown. It was a cosmic black box, but stray transmissions would leak from a localized region, enabling researchers to triangulate an approximate volume of space where the phenomenon existed.\u201d<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThe first probe to successfully cross the boundary\u2014 and return\u2014 captured images that would shake the foundations of scientific knowledge.\u201d The words are familiar. Charming.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

RHETORIC <\/span>– Charmingly *pass\u00e9*, you mean. An overreliance on pathos and quixotic visions. The author\u2019s attempts to harness the zeitgeist of the golden age with little basis in scientific accuracy is dubious at best as an accurate portrayal of historical events.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

EMPATHY <\/span>– All the same, you once loved this book.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

RADIO STATION –\u00a0 A burst of static jolts you from your reverie. The staticky buzz is louder than before, sounding like a land-line left off the hook.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

PERCEPTION (HEARING) <\/span>– There\u2019s an odd pause in the automated broadcast.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

LOGIC <\/span>– It\u2019s not the usual end of a message.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

RADIO STATION – \u201cSometimes I close my eyes\u2026\u201d The voice sounds the same as the automated announcer, but it\u2019s unmistakably human, thick with emotion.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

EMPATHY <\/span>– You can\u2019t interpret the voice\u2019s feeling, tinny and distorted through the static. You can only tell that it\u2019s undeniable *human,* raw in cadence.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

RADIO STATION – \u201c…and for a moment, I\u2019m back on Earth with you.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

REACTION SPEED<\/span> – Wait. This must be the station operator. Did he hijack the broadcast?<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

RADIO STATION – \u201cI could feel the sunshine and taste the grainy sweetness of cornbread. It was the World Faire of \u201982\u2026\u201d He stops.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

ENCYCLOPEDIA <\/span>– The World Faire of \u201982 was held in the Republic of Americas, over a century ago.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

RADIO STATION – There\u2019s a crackle of a sigh. \u201cExcept I don\u2019t think we attended. We couldn\u2019t afford the tickets.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThings have been getting weird lately. Maybe it\u2019s just me, but\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

GLOAMING<\/span> – A frisson of fear skips down your spine.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

RADIO STATION – \u201cOnce, I woke up on Pluto, watching as Wakefield first stepped through the Bridge. The cameras, the rovers\u2026\u201d He sounds breathless.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

PERCEPTION (HEARING)<\/span> – You have to strain to hear his next words.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

RADIO STATION – \u201cI was alive.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

MIDNIGHT SUN<\/span> – Now, he is no longer alive.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

RHETORIC <\/span>– It is impossible for this person to have lived through both events. Something doesn\u2019t line up.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

APHELION <\/span>– Memory is a fickle thing. There are many possible, *normal* explanations for this phenomenon.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

LOGIC <\/span>– A prolonged lack of human contact, for one.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

ENCYCLOPEDIA <\/span>– Studies have shown that chronic social isolation increases a person\u2019s risk of premature death and numerous mental illnesses. A lack of physiological and psychological stimulation contributes to the risk.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

CONCEPTUALIZATION <\/span>– What better way to escape than dreaming of the past?<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

YOU – Keep listening.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

RADIO STATION – The operator sounds like he\u2019s moving away from the receiver. \u201cI figured\u2026 they never solved faster-than-light communication\u2026 wouldn\u2019t have mattered except\u2026\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

REFLEXION <\/span>– This station sits at the edge of a massive black hole.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

ENCYCLOPEDIA <\/span>– The time-space dilation of a gravity well of this magnitude would mean that a minute on the edge is equivalent to seven years on Earth.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

DRAMA <\/span>– Time is a social construct.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

MIDNIGHT SUN <\/span>– An unstoppable hand that extracts a toll from all of us, sooner or later.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

YOU – Keep listening.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

RADIO STATION – \u201cI wish I could remember what you looked like when you got on that train.\u201d<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

The static hiccups. There\u2019s another long pause.<\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

Faintly, as if from underwater: \u201cWhat I wouldn\u2019t give for a cup of real coffee.\u201d <\/span>
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

The transmission\u2019s keen fizzles out just as abruptly as it started.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

YOU – Lean in.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

RADIO STATION – Nothing. Only waves of static from some distant shore.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

MIDNIGHT SUN<\/span> – A ghost trapped in circuitry, bouncing from electron to electron, rocketing out into a vast dark.\u00a0 Just another mote of dust in the cosmic haystack. A memory repeating itself over and over and over\u2026\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

GLOAMING <\/span>– The thermostat in your cabin has not fluctuated, yet a cold seeps underneath your skin. Gooseflesh prickles.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

YOU – How much time has passed?<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

LOGIC <\/span>– For the station\u2014<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

GLOAMING <\/span>– The operator huddles underneath an oversized coat, slumped over the dashboard. The coat engulfs his scrawny torso, a hatchling sheltered under its mother\u2019s wing.\u00a0<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

LOGIC <\/span>– Based on the timestamp of the last automated broadcast\u2014<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

GLOAMING <\/span>– The body has barely even cooled.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

LOGIC <\/span>– Ten minutes.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\n

 <\/p>\n

THE FOURTH WALL – Hello! Lately I’ve been inspired by various media and their ways of storytelling. As a result, the blog’s taking a somewhat different direction this semester, but the stories belong in the same overarching universe.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

RADIO STATION – On the edge of an abyss a radio station floats above its plunging depths, rocking gently with the sway of invisible waves. It periodically broadcasts: \u201cThis is Station Merlin in Sector Gamma-Four with information Whiskey. Time\u2026\u201d   THE PILOT\u2019S CABIN – The voice filters through the holes of your ears, rousing you […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2249,"featured_media":17486,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[1221,1016,1756,420],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20615"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2249"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=20615"}],"version-history":[{"count":26,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20615\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":20642,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20615\/revisions\/20642"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/17486"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20615"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20615"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/artsatmichigan.umich.edu\/ink\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20615"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}