2: S.I.T.IMature

Blinding white, yellow than the color of soft caramel. Soon a throbbing sound began to beat. The 'dum' 'dum' 'dum' resounded from the honey color until it switched to black, then to blue, and then Angus awoke with a start and was instantly in a sitting position. The bug zapper light above him radiated with electricity. The 'dum' was his heartbeat pounding like a pile-driver hits the ground.

Still eyes closed, he heard something 'ting' a couple times and stop. Sweat beaded on him as if he was transported to downtown california in mid-day. The tin cup that had been so comfortably resting against him side was flown across in frenzied motion and erupted in a series of 'tings' that send Crowley jumping from his seat, his wild hair staid up a moment before lightly falling to rest again. A look of disbelief strewn across his face. A smile quickly moved its way across the look of bewilderment, though, when he saw Angus staring into nowhere as white as a ghost.

Crowley mumbled something about Angus picking that up and sat back down. Meanwhile, Joy had appeared in the doorway with a piece of scrap metal in her hand, found from someplace between her room and the stairs. From even the way she held it one could make out that she had no intention to use it, she could get as angry as a hornet's nest getting hit by rocks, but she looked half asleep at that moment, and grabbed some defense from impulse. The makeshift weapon dropped beside her and resounded with the same sound as Angus' tin cup, she switched between gazing periodically between Angus and Crowley. She then made efforts to seat herself beside Crowley and engage a conversation.

The overweight man on his cot groaned and sat upright, eyes still vacant and mind on other things not of reality. Crowley felt the tension in the air. He smelled the sense that a tin cup had shattered the momentary peace they had. Was he asleep still? He wasn't sure, if he was a sound like the tin cup must of woke him up. His mind felt like the fogs he'd seen on his trip to British Columbia, the layers and layers of fog that extend forever around the vibrant green of the vines and forests and ferns. He needed his feet to be on something more than fog. He needed something solid.

"Ya' think we can get any other probes on the S.I.T.I.?" It sounded like Set-ee, his voice still rough with sleep. It was the Standard Internal Transmission Indicator. Built specifically for the probe missions by people unknown to all three occupants. Crowley started to flip some switches and work on the glass screen in front of him. It use is that is picks up audio and sometimes visual pre-recorded messages that could be sent between ships. It only picks up visual messages when it is close enough to another probe, it's exact length again not known by the three people that rode with the equipment. It was added late in the project, just a few weeks before the launch of the probes. Something to help ease the problem of being so close to so few people. Joy and Crowley and Angus had been residing in the probe for 6 years, and in that entire time they had kept tabs on one probe visually before it left range, now they still sent audio messages to Roger, Lia, and Mary. Other than them they had only to receive about twenty five other transmissions, people who blinked into and out of their lives. They had sent about two hundred pre recorded messages, mostly Crowley, outward, hoping they be picked up.

"This is Captain Crowley Huggins of probe 79xya," Crowley's mind flashes pasts in the military, the reciting voice that only comes with years of training, thinking he still residing inside those planes, contacting someone right next to him on another plane. It retained calm distinction as he continued, "Floating somewhere between Sol 139k and Sol 140k, seeking audience with fellow alive beings. All is well as possible out here. Seeking audience with fellow sentient creatures." The screen fuzzed out, everything disappeared. Crowley now again, stared into his own battered reflection, and the black window constantly haunting every one of them behind that. It would be two weeks before another message could be heard, if they were close. He deflated back into his chair and let out a sigh

The End

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