Astrocast Flashes originated as a way for deep-space attendants to stay entertained and connected to the rest of humanity while stationed in isolated space stations. With limited bandwidth and transmission capabilities, long-form entertainment and communication were simply not feasible, so they had to come up with creative ways to share stories and experiences with each other.
At first, Astrocast Flashes were simple messages or updates sent out by individuals stationed on different space stations, sharing news, jokes, and personal stories to stay connected with one another. However, as technology improved and transmission capabilities increased, Astrocast Flashes began to evolve into short, pithy stories that could be broadcast across the interstellar gulfs in a matter of seconds.
These stories became popular among deep-space attendants because they provided a brief but welcome escape from the monotony and isolation of their lonely jobs. The stories were often imaginative, exciting, and filled with wonder, transporting listeners to other worlds and sparking their imaginations.
As more and more people began tuning in to Astrocast Flashes, they became a cultural phenomenon, inspiring a new generation of storytellers and deep-space enthusiasts. Today, Astrocast Flashes are a beloved tradition among deep-space attendants and continue to captivate audiences with their short, thrilling tales of adventure in the depths of space.
Have an Astrocast Flash to share? Contact spiraltowerpress@gmail.com. Because of interstellar bandwidth limitations, stories must be kept to 500 to 750 words.
Warp Rider's Lament
by Anthony Perconti
Approx. 620 words
"Brane entry complete," the scout ship's AI said to Captain Sharma. The exploratory vessel was the first of its kind to breach the neighboring parallel. Isha Sharma's eyes welled up as the enormity of the moment overcame her.
"Goddamn," she mumbled, as she swiped at tears.
Through all those years of trial and error. The sacrifices. Of the countless manpower hours poured into this endeavor; she was finally here. Now that the Indo-Chinese Republic had successfully crossed into the multiverse, humanity's future was secure. She let out a long sigh of relief.
"I feel much the same."
Sharma gave a nod in the affirmative. "This must be how my distant ancestors felt when they harnessed the flame. Or when we first set foot on Chanda."
"Or at the onset of the Great Machine Awakening amongst my kind."
"Indeed. Scan vicinity for gravitational lensing and or bio-forms, Maan," Sharma said. After a few cycles, the telemetry screens showed a vast starless expanse of darkness.
"Telemetry scan show's nothing, Captain."
"Huh. Just our luck to be crapped out into a cosmological desert."
"So, it appears," the AI responded.
"Extensive telemetry reading, Maan. Go deep. Let's hit that jackpot!"
The cycles crept by. After what seemed an eternity, the telemetry screens updated-pitch black. "Long range scan found zero, Captain."
Nothing? Could it be that she was ported over into a barren universe? That this brane was devoid of any celestial bodies? And yet-
"Zero? There has got to be something out there. We're just not looking hard enough."
"Shall I run another long-range telemetry scan, Captain? Just to be sure?"
"Absolutely, old friend. And don't rush it for my sake," Sharma said, chuckling to her companion. "We've got nothing but time on our hands."
And yet, Sharma felt something out there. Some sentient presence lurking in the black beyond. She just knew it. She could feel it in her bones. That off-putting feeling of being watched, of being studied stuck with her, regardless of what the equipment readouts said. The sensation made the base of skull itch. It reminded her of that time as a little girl, when her parents took her into the city. They spent the day at the New Ahmedabad Aquarium. Her ten-year-old self goggle eyed at the profusion of sea life before her. Pitaajee scolding her for the incessant tattooing on the glass.
After sixty cycles of nervous apprehension, the screens blipped to life again. A vast field of unbroken black, its velvet uniformity unmarred by any star, planet or nebula. Hell, not even an errant chunk of mineral was detected.
"This just can't be. Something must be wrong with our sensors. Maybe the passage through the portal fragged our hardware?"
"I'm afraid not. All systems are working at optimal capacity, Captain."
"Don't you sense that," Sharma asked the AI.
"Captain?"
"Some…I don't know what. Some thing. Some entity. Watching. Observing us. Like a roundworm under a microscope."
A shudder ran through the craft, followed an instant later by the barks and scarlet flashes of the emergency klaxon.
"Maan! What the hell was that?"
The ebon uniformity wavered like a heat mirage and gradually began to transform. A vast empyrean eye, lazily dilating open. A sickly golden iris expanding outward, outward until the darkness on the screens was subsumed by the light of this unnatural sun. A violet decagonal pupil the size of a moon pulsed and vibrated at the organ's center.
Sharma sat transfixed in her compression harness, unable to tear her eyes from the alien tableau blossoming before her.
"I'm so sorry, Maan. So sorry it had to end this way."
The screams of the two explorers conjoined, christening the newfound world in blood and silica.
END
Astrocast Flash: Warp Rider's Lament
Astrocast Flash: Space Too Deep, Orbit Too Wide
Astrocast Flash: Bug-eyed Monsters and the Women Who Love them