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YOUR PHOTO STORY
©
2008 Zachary Joe Mason
"Syntax"
by Zachary Joe Mason
It was cold. Three degrees Kelvin to be exact. But there was more cold out there than the temperature. 30 23 254 2One hundred and seventy five times every second, that code flowed throw the aged circuits, sending out repeated pulses of radio wave radiation. It was the most common method primitive societies used to attempt contact with other civilizations. It had been in existence for over ten billion years, left behind by a discovery project from the third system of Mesner 101 on a cryogenic trip to this galaxy. 30 23 254 2The 175 times a second radio beam flashes were the universal call of hello and greetings. It didn’t even have a name. Thousands of these had been left throughout space as beacons to draw intelligent societies to them. Redundant circuits had kept this unit in operation long after any detectable influence from any other of the units stopped their pulses. 30 23 254 2... Circuitry failure… rerouting to secondary systems. It was nearly on all secondary circuits. Few of the primary ones worked any more. Some tertiary systems were even in function. At least it hadn’t been attacked. Like they could get through the one billion kilogram per milliliter density of the unit. Some of the other units had burnt out, others had been destroyed in a grand intergalactic battle eons ago. 30 23 254 2Yes, it certainly was cold. No sign of civilizations in this quadrant of Gabar 235, the galaxy it was in. If there was, they weren’t interested, or weren’t advanced enough yet. It generally took ten thousand years for a civilization to develop radio wave communication advanced enough to communicate with beacons like itself. 30 23 254 2Temperature rise of two degrees Kelvin. Program SCAN123 running. No detectable source of temperature change. Another two degree jump. Now five. Now ten. Program SCANTOPLEVEL running. Another galaxy was coming into contact with this one. Program SURVIVAL running. 30 23 245 2 Why? Why did it need to survive? It has seen eons of technology come and go, with no one to contact it. What was its name even? Temperature raising at 10 Kelvin rate every minute. It was called Georgina. And it didn’t want to pulsate anymore. It could do nothing but hold its position until the inevitable heat pulse sent it hurtling through space. Unless it didn’t deploy its heat shield. 30 23 245 2... Program SURVIVAL must be activatedOverride. 
