Strange Radiation

Andrew Willett, unreliable narrator.

salvage

–Hey, the crickets have stopped again.
–It’s because you’re making so damn much noise. What was it you wanted me to see, anyway?
–Check it out! A head!
–Human?
–Mostly. Actually, no…I think this one’s entirely human.
–Well, that should be worth a few bucks to somebody. Nicely preserved, too. Where’d you find it?
–Under the sand. I told you: for moonlit fields to give way to unstructured sand so abruptly is unnatural, even in a place like this. I think the breakdown was radiating out from the head.
–Why would the head be so vigorously entropogenic? Heads propogate structure, they don’t destabilize it. Why have a head if you don’t build stuff with it?
–I think it just…gave up.
–Eeew.
–Oh, I don’t know. It probably thought of itself as tragic.
–Well, I don’t want you bringing it onto the ship if it’s going to turn us into sand before we get back.
–Naah. It wouldn’t hurt us. Besides, we’re not bringing it back.
–What?
–I think this could be a viable space again. Wouldn’t take much. Here, give me the spanner.
–Don’t tell me you can fix that thing.
–Sure. Well, we can get it ticking over again. The cogs just need a little re-alignment…like so…then we just…there.
–Hmm. Pretty lights.
–Yeah… It should be fully online in an hour or two.
–How long will it do its job properly this time?
–Hard to say: days, weeks; maybe decades. Depends on you, doesn’t it, snookums?
–I wish you wouldn’t tickle its chin like that.
–You’re just pissed that we can’t sell it to a curiosity dealer yet.
–Hmmph. A human head! That’s two days at the Ganglion sipping fizzy liquids, that is.
–Look, let’s give it a chance. We can come back, check it again in a few days. If it’s spitting out sand again, first round at the Ganglion comes out of my share.
–Deal.
–Good. Now, shall we go?

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1 Comment

  1. peter

    If these are chips from the workshop, I look foward to seeing the finished objet.
    Erm…but that should be “propAgate”.
    Love and pedantry,
    P

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