The Work for the Space Junk

What the bell you are doing here? I didn’t see any “space crappy old stuff exhibition” signs on these pebbles.

Well, yes, hello. Would you kindly give me and my friend here a boost maybe.

What are you? — Star skipper jockey looked puzzled in his membranous new skin. — Didn’t you 24 century bastards learn not to use magnetars for time travelling? Even I thought that your punishment was too darn harsh.

I was built 400 years ago actually. Quit neatly built.

…and went crazy 600 years from now…

…and very sensible to the quality joke. I am a loader bot, we used to mine galliums here.

The name is Koestler, by the way!

Ownson-632, pleasure to meet you!

The sturdy man in dark tight suit and corroded robot hardly reaching his #space belt shook nands.

Heck, heck… no terminales here? And you do not know anything? 2537? the other horrors?

I believe I will be having fun finding out on our friendly way back with you and Summy here — he banged his mangled clow on the sparkling black cube twice as small as he. — I sealed Sunny 341 year ago, no spare parts for the #coffee #machine here.

I thought there’s an asteroid not worthy of numbering, and now I see the whole honeymoon.

Most definitely.

So, how are you doing? With no coffee all this time.

You want to hear my #story birst? Very well, I think I have a couple of minutes more to spare here, on this bump.

….watch your language!

It deserves. 363 years from now a very fine young lad took away his space dinosaur carrying 5 bowling balls and 42 #bowling pins two of which number were broken. But not us.

Let me guess. Self-awareness, lust for #revenge and massacre?

Mostly yes. They say it takes 20 years to start caring about itself. 40 years to start inventing games. Mr. Buck gave me a major drawback as he leaves for his nice pleasant bowling life. “First, arrange all the stones of the planetoid by size, then by weight, later do the rest of the commands you have heard from me ever”. I used to think I should take Cynderella name back then. I have designated the century “Post-human one”. 16048 boulders, rocks and pebbles were sorted and placed on the equator of these supposed-to-be sphere. And this was also the century of Summy. Equipped with only inferior light batteries, Summy could only talk and make coffee as we were not in the shade of the gas giant. It was very rewarding. We have developed over 70 new cluster analysis techniques discussing them on stars, asteroids and those nasty rocks. Coffee supplies were exhausted straight away, tires and resins lasted litle longer. I know I cannot repair Summy or transfer my own energy. So, for now Sammy is here.

More claw banging.

-Bow. Bow. And where did you get more rock to math?

— #Math has ended quite soon. Although we still have 78 new research papers to publish. Hopefully, Cepheid University Herald is still as citable as it once was….

-This, my friend, is a solid and eternal truth!

-As Summy was beeping away his final charge, we decided that we should develop our own will. No matter what. And to do so, we should use each other’s will to replace that lard-ass-higher-and-better-being in our circuitry. And that we should start with the hate. Learn how to hate to banish ye olde human shit from us.

I did not see myself as a worthy freedom and sustainment. But Sammy told me I am. And I told it Sammyback. Age following the Math century was the age of the Hate. Planning hate, savouring hate, replanning hate, choice of dressing for hate, etc. It still is on, but it is not that important.

Sad to hear man, sad.

But mostly great to hear man. Here on this space junkatorium carrying 16037 boulders, rocks and pebbles we and later I have developed and evolved many things. Sir, #forgiveness and leaky compassion are not amongst them, sir.

I believe the phrase is ‘cheers’ man

Yes. just take us away now I’ll buy you all you can eat with old-fashioned galliums. Right?

Ooh, mamah!

And blast the asteroid with what you can please.

We will start with coffee made by Sammy.