The Starlost – A Forgotten Sci-Fi Vision, Reborn for a New Age

Morty was relaxing in his hammock under the rainforest canopy. He had moved into the Rainforest Dome, number forty-four, and built a small hut with a grass roof and some basic comforts. It made a very nice change from crawling around the guts of the Ark, and now that he and Echo Forty-Four had come to an understanding, the large predators were dissuaded from approaching too closely. He was on “down time”: no meetings, no tasks, just take a day or two and relax. He and Rachel had returned from the Library just a few days before and the rest was certainly appreciated. Besides, Morty had a question that had been nagging at him and this was a perfect opportunity to dig in to it.

Working with Alexander in the Library had been an almost giddy experience. There was just so much of… EVERYTHING. Morty’s people had had an inkling of the nature of their world, but the Library had opened his eyes in ways he had never even imagined. There were reference books on any topic you could desire, training classes taught by specialized Echo units, music, video…

Video was where the question originated. Alexander had segregated off a personal partition where he kept what amounted to personal files- quick access to specific media, reference and technical data. Morty had simply noticed the list of files and saw something that looked out of place.

“Alexander, these files in your personal partition, what were they for?”

“Generally just immediate-need documentation. My memory architecture is different from other units as I was designed for constant and life-like interaction with humans. Note the media files- these I used to essentially simulate interaction. It helped me to maintain my equilibrium.”

Morty leaned closer to the terminal, scrolling through the impossibly ancient media index while Alexander stood nearby with his hands folded behind his back in practiced librarian dignity.

“Wait,” Morty said, squinting. “This one here. It is flagged priority and it looks like you have accessed it… wow, that’s a lot”

Alexander did not answer immediately.

“That,” he finally said, “is a culturally significant anthropological document originating from the late Pre-Collapse North American entertainment period. The program examines themes of industrial alienation, recursive behavioral dysfunction, performative masculinity, and the collapse of ordered domestic structures in late consumer-era civilization.”

“It’s… educational?”

“In the purest sense.”

“And they named it Angry Beavers?”

Alexander had paused just a moment before simply replying, “The late 20^th Century was an unusual time.”

Rachel had interrupted the conversation with questions on another topic and Morty had let the issue slide. Seriously, it did not seem important, and yet… something told him to follow up.

He fired up his tablet and found the files- there were 62 of them. He opened the first file.

He opened the first file.

At first he thought he had made a mistake.

The file displayed two crudely rendered animals standing in front of what appeared to be a dam. One was speaking rapidly while the other made exaggerated gestures.

Morty checked the filename.

Then he checked it again.

This was definitely the correct file.

He watched another thirty seconds.

The animals were now yelling at one another.

One had somehow become trapped inside a large ball of mud.

The other seemed to find this hilarious.

Morty frowned.

The metadata clearly identified the program as a preserved cultural artifact. Alexander had accessed it thousands of times over the centuries.

Thousands, and thousands of times..

Morty watched another minute. The mud-covered animal was now operating heavy machinery. Poorly. Very poorly.

Something exploded.

Morty slowly sat upright in his hammock.

“No.”

He watched another thirty seconds.

The second animal was now also operating heavy machinery. Something else exploded. Morty stared at the screen.

Then he opened a comm channel.

 

“Rachel? Are you available? I have something you ought to see. Get Devon, or Garth if you see either of them.”

There was a pause.

“What is it?” Rachel asked. “What’s wrong?”

Morty continued staring at the tablet. One of the animals had become lodged in a tree. He was not entirely certain how.

“I’m not sure,” Morty admitted. “You really need to see this.”

Twenty minutes later Rachel and Devon arrived at the hut.

Morty handed Rachel the tablet without a word. She watched for nearly a minute before she looked at him.

“What am I looking at?”

“That is exactly what I want to know.”

“Where did you find it?”

“Alexander’s private files.”

Rachel looked back at the screen.

The animals were screaming again.

“Why?”

“I asked him.”

“And?”

“He said it was a culturally significant anthropological document examining social structures and industrial alienation.”

Rachel was silent.

Devon was silent.

On the screen, one of the animals accidentally destroyed a building. The other immediately destroyed a second building.

Devon folded his arms.

“Maybe we’re misunderstanding the context?” he offered.

“That was my first thought.”

“Or there are symbolic meanings,” Rachel added.

“That was my second thought.”

Rachel pointed at the screen.

“Did that one just hit himself in the face with a shovel?”

“Yes.”

The three of them watched quietly for another minute.

Then another.

Then another.

Nobody said anything.

Finally Rachel laughed.

A moment later Devon did too.

Morty sighed.

“I was afraid of that.”

Several hundred kilometers away, deep within the Library’s core systems, Alexander watched the access to his files jump by two hundred and nineteen percent.

“Excellent,” he noted to nobody in particular. “Preservation of culture continues.”