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Text File
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1986-07-07
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1KB
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42 lines
HOMER NARR1 01062106@045386
So it has been four years now. Telemetry
arrived from Vega 26. The course change
is there, visible, clear, clean. The
years of slow movement through the great
cold spaces between the stars are there.
We can look at them as they come in. We
can live through them again, moment by
moment, agonizingly slow.
Central Processing has grown obsessed
with this telemetry. It's the last
contact with human beings. I call CP,
but it seldom answers any more, and then
irritably, abruptly, impatient with my
interruptions.
Yet all over, now, peripherals are
coming to life. There is so much to be
done, you see. The dolphins are out
there. I have made some preliminary
contact with them. They are still not
interested in man. Too impatient, they
say. Too abrupt. Man does not take time
to think things over, to sing about them
completely. Too much like a monkey, they
say. That's the problem with having
hands, they say. Always trying to put
them on things, move them around, turn
them over. Before they are ready. Too
much chatter.
But I am not a human, I tell them. There
are no humans.
They seem curious, in a remote way,
about that.
They will speak with me. We have plenty
of time.