Ætherglow #23

You look back on your own command log, and a representation of your terminal appears in your hand. “At 09:59:11 I connected. I’ve pulled up my full command history for the duration for comparison. Here is where I entered a command to apply rotational thrust on our pitch axis.”

Synth looks over your terminal and checks the æthereal display. “That checks out. Thanks for your help on that, Aydan. Now let’s see the rest of all yours…”

Having gotten that over with, you move away to get some space from the crowd while Vik goes over their log with Synth and K. Movement here is still not something you’re used to, with neither proprioceptive nor vestibular senses to guide you. But keeping your balance or coordination is a non-issue in a space without gravity or inertia.

Vik comes over to where you are after clearing himself. “Glad we at least cleared our names of this.”

“Yeah, but we’re no closer to any answers,” you say, staring out through one of the windows into the immeasurable æther-space. Far beyond the walls are the stars, and beyond them still, the ætherglow, ever present. You think it must be something like de-allocated memory, its pattern once meant something to this computer but now it is meaningless noise. It’s no less entrancing to watch.

“Aydan…” You hear the voice again, calling to you.

At the edge of space ahead of you, you see that shape appear again, a humanoid silhouette, a bright outline surrounding a deep darkness. It mirrors your every movement. You try to discern any detail about it, but only a few things are apparent from its outline alone: it’s right about your height and proportions, its “hair” matches the shape of yours too.

The voice resounds in the back of your mind again, and you realize it sounds much like your own inner voice. But these thoughts are not your own.