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fruziclePart Two
The Martian Chronicles
(Part One is included after Part Two, should you need to refresh your memory. It all began with this:
Imagine a sketch done faintly in pencil. It was sent to me by the magic of the Internet all the way to California from a tiny country town called Birregurra in the rural fields of southeastern Australia. The drawing shows a large sausage- like submarine, its nose is carefully wrapped with a ribbon and bow. The submarine sports an apparent periscope and an enormous bridge or control deck that looks like a giant piece of shortbread cookie. It has some three stories and many windows. Flying off the ground appears to be a scuba diver who is zeroing in on the massive craft with an oversized scissors. Two details remain: a person wearing a globe over his or her head with an antenna sprouting from its top and a soda bottle arcing from the submarine down to the astronaut on the ground. The astronaut has his hand outstretched toward the bottle.The Martian Chronicles
(Part One is included after Part Two, should you need to refresh your memory. It all began with this:
Mars Base
34° 25', 17° 18''.
34° 25', 17° 18''.
He made a snap decision. He had to talk to Dax. Had anyone one else seen the encounter? Was there anyone else who could rat him out? No one else could know! There could be no witnesses and no delays.
Charlie bounded off to the crew quarters (CQ) to consult with Dax. Thanks, Low Gravity! He was buzzed in immediately, but he could hardly stand the sense of impending doom as he waited impatiently for the three minutes it took to traverse the six-chamber airlock. (AL-6)
He hurried through the hallway, glancing nervously at every passerby he encountered. Did he look guilty? Did they know he had been involved in the secret mission? (Did they even know there had been a secret mission?) The climate control (CC) was set at the usual 22° Celsius, but somehow Charlie felt it was much warmer.
Here was the door to Dax’s apartment. He feverishly punched the VAD (visitor alert device, aka, the doorbell) rapidly three times, hoping that would imply a sense of urgency. Suddenly Dax threw open the door. He quickly glanced to the left and to the right before reaching out and grabbing Charlie by the arm, and yanking him inside. “Did anyone see you?” he blurted out.
Charlie was startled by Dax’s reaction. After all, it was he, Charlie, who had done some bad juju just ten minutes earlier. “Uh, I passed a few people on the way over,” Charlie stammered.
“But you played it cool, right?” Dax stared intently at Charlie.
“Sure, well, I tried.” Charlie answered. “What’s up with you?”
“Hey,” Dax interrupted. “Was there anyone else on that assignment besides the two of us?”
“I don’t know,” responded Charlie. “Though there may have been someone watching from Space Traffic and Air Traffic Control (STATIC). Maybe a few others that we don’t know about. I did tell my girlfriend Linsa about the mission, but told her that I couldn’t give her any details. The Commander, of course. But, about the Commander…”
Dax cut in again. “Did you see what happened after I flew up to cut the ribbon on that interstellar ship?”
“Well, no. I was busy catching that bottle. You did see the bottle, right? In fact, here it is now.” Charlie pulled the bottle out from the interior pocket of his outdoor jacket and set it on the low table in front of the austere, standard-issue sofa. “Hey, do you mind if I take off my outside clothes? I’m awfully warm.” Charlie peeled off the stiff, dusty garment and hung it near the door that Dax had locked up tight. Now, dressed only in his long johns, as was Dax, Charlie felt much more comfortable.
“So this was the ‘traditional communication device?’” Dax asked. He laughed and picked it up. “This old thing?”
“Yep. As I was trying to say about the Commander…” Charlie tried to continue but Dax didn't stop.
“So yeah, I flew up to cut that weird ribbon off that god damned ship. Wait, do you swear to keep this conversation just between us?”
“Of course,” answered Charlie. “In fact…”
Dax continued, “So I got up there real close and vibrations started pulsing through my body. At first, I thought maybe it was from the power source of the ship. Then I began to perceive very low levels of images of tropical beaches and lush rainforests, like they were trying to entice me. But it didn’t make sense. It felt like brainwashing. It felt like a trap.
“So, I turned around. I just couldn’t do it. Suddenly the vibrations stopped, so I turned around to look. And all I saw was a sort of gray cloud where the ship had been. I don’t know if it vaporized or if it left a gray cloud as it nuked itself out of there. Very strange, though. Very strange.”
“I never even looked back after I saw you going up there!” Charlie exclaimed. “I caught the bottle they dropped out and then I reported to the Commander. But I gave him bogus info! I couldn’t help it, but when I heard that his name was Ben Arnold, like in Benedict Arnold the spy, I got all kinds of paranoid. I remembered his odd demeanor earlier. It suddenly seemed like he was in on a nefarious plot to cooperate with beings from the Outside. I panicked and told him that nothing happened and that the ship had left. I said we were back to business as usual.”
“Well, the ship certainly left,” commented Dax. “Looks like we both were derelict in our duties. I suppose we’re screwed. Think they’ll let us share the same cell?”
“Hey, I wonder what’s in that bottle?” Dax continued. “Do you think we should open it? Maybe we’ll learn something.”
“Maybe it’s full of toxins,” replied Charley.
“Or, we could put it back onto the food service pick-up belt in the cafeteria. Then they would open it. Anything bad happens, it’s not our fault.” Dax grinned. He looked for the moment as if he had found the convenient answer.
“What if it’s toxic and we all die? What then, huh?” Charlie glared at Dax.
A gloomy look passed over Dax’s face. “So then now what do we do?”
Charlie had an idea. “Do you suppose there might be someone who could help us out?”
“What?! And admit that we screwed up?”
“Nah, more like getting an expert’s opinion. Maybe we need a character reference on Commander Benedict Arnold,” Charlie replied. “Though I’m only speculating about his name being Benedict. Maybe I’m getting carried away.”
“You know,” Dax responded, “That’s a good idea. Who is there we might be able to trust? I’ll get the colony roster. Let’s consider our candidates.
“Man, I'm starving. Insubordination is a lot of work. Let’s eat something while we read,” Dax continued. “Maybe we’ll think better with some Mars calories coursing through our veins.” He got up and grabbed some MCREs out of the standard issue cupboards. (Mars Calories Ready to Eat) He also pulled out two MacGuffins, the local brew. They looked uncannily like the bottle sitting on the table in front of the sofa.
“From now on, our code word for this predicament is MacGuffin,” he said. “While everyone else will be thinking we’re talking about brewskis, we’ll know we’re tackling this bigger debacle.” The two gently knocked their real beers together, saying, “To MacGuffin!” The cold beers did help clear their minds. “So glad George MacGuffin did pull off this brewing project,” quietly mused Dax. “What else is there here on Mars to ease the stress?”
“Well, there’s always the women. Or at least some of them. Charley winked at Dax. They clinked their bottles again. “To Linsa,” he said.
“To Kaia,” said Dax.
And the two continued to discuss the predicament. They carefully evaluated everyone working the colony. They even considered folks back on earth, but eliminated them as being just too damn far away. Heck, the time delay in communications of up to twenty-four minutes would make that option completely untenable. It would take nearly an hour just to exchange hellos! In the end, they settled on one general who seemed a little less inside the commander’s clique. She was also intelligent and logical and seemed to give a steady ear to problems brought up by her staff. General IreneTakeda was definitely a good egg.
Two hours later, their talking points for the general, as well as the commander had been established. They would take a proactive approach with the commander. Charlie had said, “Maybe we should march right up to him together and build a case that we heroically saved our entire colony by not falling into the abduction trap.”
Dax had readily agreed. He checked his chronometer. “It’s only 20:38. How about we swing by Takeda’s office and then pay a visit to the commander? We’ll tell her everything, but the commander will get our amended version. No need to mention the bottle. And hell if we’ll say anything to him about being a spy!”
***
“Yes Sir,” replied Dax to the Commander’s latest question after twenty minutes of intense prying. “It is true that we suspected evil purposes from the alien ship.”
“Well, Gentlemen, I commend your superior intuitive reactions,” the Commander said.
Charlie didn’t dare look at Dax, but he was able to give him the slightest of nudges with his elbow.
The Commander steepled his hands and fixed his intense blue eyes on the men. “Obviously, this needs to continue to be a top-secret mission. But, also obviously, we need to try to pursue the matter as expeditiously as possible.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I want both of you to report for duty at O600 four days from now at launch Venue 1A.
“Yes, Sir,” they responded, though a little less enthusiastically. They were going to Alpha Centauri?!
The Commander continued, “Make up a crew list of whichever individuals you feel can best support you technically as well as intellectually. Of course, you'll need a pilot or two, a navigation officer, intelligence personnel, a medic, you get the idea. Try to get folks with multiple talents. You know the drill."
This time it was Dax who nudged Charlie.
The Commander gruffly added, “Remember, mum's the word. Good work, men. You are dismissed.”
***
Charlie and Dax left the commander's office in silence. As soon as he thought they were out of earshot, Charlie broke the silence. “What do you think? At least we didn’t get thrown in the brig. He actually seemed to think we did a good job. Or do you think he was just making that part up?”
“Maybe it’s all just a plot to get rid of us,” answered Dax in a gloomy voice. “You know, to carry on his ulterior motives without us breathing down his neck.”
“Really?”
“Really. You know, it could be possible.”
The two rangers gave each other concerned looks. “Let’s check back with Takeda and see how we’re going to work this.
***
General Takeda greeted Dax and Charlie. “Good evening, Gentlemen. Have a seat. You were right, we really have a conundrum. Did you shirk your duties by not carrying out orders or did you save our civilization by defying them?"In the hour you’ve been gone, I’ve turned up some interesting nuggets. Of course, this is highly classified, but under the circumstances... Did you know that our commander was ejected from an elite officers’ club for disagreeing with other members? That the others were so angry that they played some rather juvenile pranks on him? The man definitely has good reason for having some issues. We’ll have to proceed cautiously. Any of us could be court-martialed for pursuing this line of thinking.
"On the other hand, if Arnold turns out to be squeaky clean, we also have to examine this alien encounter. It'll be dangerous, but it's essential work, either way.
"How’d it go with you?
“I see. Let me check my schedule. I can certainly arrange to accompany you on the expedition. After all, you'll need someone with advanced navigation skills and new technology radio training. You do want me to join you, don’t you? Ok, we’ve got work to do, and only the next four days to prepare.”
She handed out a round of the local brew. "This calls for a toast. Don't worry, I'm calling this the end of the day. I can drink now and so can you.
"To MacGuffin!"
"To MacGuffin!" they all chimed in.
And while Charlie felt less guilt about thwarting a commanding officer's orders, for the first time, he also felt optimism about the possibility of uncovering a traitorous mole. He flashed a genuine smile at Dax. And Dax's returned smile reflected the same relief.
...To Be Continued
Previous Chapter:
Charlie hopped on his Mars rover to make the quick trip back to headquarters. (HQ) In five minutes he was able to park right outside the commander's office. An imposing looking guard stood right outside the door, looking for all the world like the bulldog that was their company mascot.
"Halt," commanded the security officer.
"I've come to bring the commander some important information which I must hand over personally," Charlie replied.
"Name, rank, mission?" scowled the guard.
"Corporal Charles Lindersky, and I'm with the operations platoon for today's mission," replied Charlie. "It's imperative that I speak with the Commander immediately. Privately, I might add."
"Very well. One moment please." The guard turned so he was facing away from Corporal Charlie and depressed a button on his helmet. "Sir, a Corporal Lindersky is here to see you about today's mission."
Charlie stepped through the airlocks into the commander's office. He noticed Commander Moore, the other bigwig for this Mars base just standing up from the office table where he and Commander Arnold had obviously been discussing plans.
"I'll meet with you later this afternoon, Ben," commented Commander Moore. "See you then."
Time stood still for Charlie. Ben Arnold. Gears turned slowly but inevitably in Charlie's head. Benedict Arnold. He held the soda bottle behind his back, hiding it from view.
"Yes, Corporal?" Commander Arnold stared at Charlie. His annoyance was mounting as Charlie seemed to lose his voice. "Did everything go well with the secret mission?"
"Ah, yessir, it did. Perfectly according to plan. We saw the vehicle and then it flew away. Uneventful. We'll be getting right back to our usual routine."
The commander squinted at Charlie with a possible question in his eyes. "Oh, I'm a little surprised. But good work, Corporal. See you tomorrow for Physical Training and then our debriefing meeting."
Charlie eased himself out of the office, carefully hiding the soda bottle. What had he done?
"I guess it's probably time to catch up with Dax and get him squared away with this info. We'll need to synchronize our stories."
And Charlie set off to put his soda bottle in a verrry safe place.
Previous Chapter:
Charlie stood on a barren hillside six kilometers outside the base he where he was posted. Before him stretched vast stretches of reddish sand, and beyond that were darker red mountains. The ground he stood on bore an ochre tinge, as did the hills running away from him on his right. Though he had a 360-degree view, in no direction he looked was there a single speck of green. Not the deep blackish green of a single creosote bush or a spot of the brighter green lobes of a cactus swollen with the summer rains. Yes, it was a desert, but there wasn’t even a stick. Welcome to Mars! You could say it was windswept, except there wasn't all that much air. The wind did indeed whistle through, but there wasn’t much volume to the whistle. Nevertheless, Charlie even spotted a red dust devil a few miles off to the east. There wasn't much wind, but, then again, neither was there a whole lot of gravity. A pale tawny sky stretched In a vast dome overhead.
His instructions had specified that he should be waiting on Stardate 2223.11.33:12:45, at location 34° 25', 17° 24'. Charlie, an elite Mars ranger, had been told to expect an incoming vehicle. Commander Arnold had been all very businesslike about this mission, and hadn't allowed much discussion. Somehow the commander had seemed a little extra intense. Was there something else he wasn't telling them? He had specified that no new supplies were arriving and that nobody would be going home with it. What the hell was this thing coming here to do, then?
Charlie could tell by the concerned faces of other senior officers around the commander that they did not consider this task to be business as usual. There had even been some grumbling among the rangers that maybe this thing didn't even originate from earth! Visitors who weren't earthlings! From another planet? A different solar system? It boggled the mind. Charlie figured that maybe the brass did know from which direction the vehicle was coming, but had decided to keep mum about it. Maybe to discourage panic. Ever since the announcement two weeks ago, there seemed to be an undercurrent of stress in peoples' attitudes.
Charlie was plenty concerned, which is probably why he had come out earlier than the craft was expected. He couldn't contain his curiosity. Whatever resulted from the arrival of the ship, he figured could go any of three ways. One, maybe nothing would change. Fat chance, figured Charlie. Number two, maybe all kinds of wonderful discoveries would be made and it would be the salvation of the human species. Fat chance number two, Charlie decided. Or three, and this is what really worried Charlie, it could all go horribly wrong. But by this point, it was almost zero hour. What would happen would happen. Unless it didn't. Meanwhile, he was getting cold waiting outside in the frigid, barren desert. On top of it all, he was feeling a strong need to pee. Maybe it was the anxiety. But, whadya know, here it was, right on time.
Charlie could tell by the concerned faces of other senior officers around the commander that they did not consider this task to be business as usual. There had even been some grumbling among the rangers that maybe this thing didn't even originate from earth! Visitors who weren't earthlings! From another planet? A different solar system? It boggled the mind. Charlie figured that maybe the brass did know from which direction the vehicle was coming, but had decided to keep mum about it. Maybe to discourage panic. Ever since the announcement two weeks ago, there seemed to be an undercurrent of stress in peoples' attitudes.
Charlie was plenty concerned, which is probably why he had come out earlier than the craft was expected. He couldn't contain his curiosity. Whatever resulted from the arrival of the ship, he figured could go any of three ways. One, maybe nothing would change. Fat chance, figured Charlie. Number two, maybe all kinds of wonderful discoveries would be made and it would be the salvation of the human species. Fat chance number two, Charlie decided. Or three, and this is what really worried Charlie, it could all go horribly wrong. But by this point, it was almost zero hour. What would happen would happen. Unless it didn't. Meanwhile, he was getting cold waiting outside in the frigid, barren desert. On top of it all, he was feeling a strong need to pee. Maybe it was the anxiety. But, whadya know, here it was, right on time.
He had expected an earthly-like contraption like the one that had brought him to Mars, an upgrade from the delivery system which had deposited the rover Curiosity on Mars over two centuries ago. But, oh no, this was not at all like that. This space vehicle resembled nothing so much as those submarines he had seen online in the History of Earth lessons he was required to study. Long and thick somewhat like that extinct Earth beast, the whale.
Charlie's heart began to hammer painfully in his chest.
The ship hove into view, getting closer and closer. It slowed to hover just 800 meters overhead. Amazingly, it made no sound whatsoever. For whatever unknown reason, there was a yellow ribbon tied around its nose-or whatever body part these aliens had that preceded them into a room.
Charlie tapped the outside of his helmet to activate the walkie talkie. (Cute name, that!) He needed to confer with a fellow team member, Dax.
“Open!” responded Dax.
“Do you have any further orders about this beast?” Charlie asked. “I don’t” he added, somewhat pointlessly. "I still feel pretty much in the dark, just like I did when we first got our orders to meet this thing."
“No. Anyway, it hasn’t commenced shooting. Or blasting. Or nuking. Maybe it’s simply observing.” Dax offered. It sure sounded like Dax had had his own misgivings.
Suddenly a bizarre low-pitched humming began strumming through Charlie’s headset. Then an alien computer-generated voice filled Charlie’s head, enclosed though it was in the latest silicon-hematite hybrid globe. A mechanical, metallic, non-inflected voice began its message.
“Marslandians, we come from that beautiful star system you know as Alpha Centauri. We greet you in the name of interstellar peace. We bring you this mechanical wonder that you may travel safely to come back to our home world for mutual cooperation and research.
“As a token of our meeting, we send this time-honored symbol of communication so that you will have evidence for sharing what you have heard with your superiors.
"We also request an emissary to cut the yellow ribbon, thus demonstrating your approval and interest in further contact.”
“I’m going in!” shouted Dax.
“But wait! Maybe it’s a Trojan horse!” shouted Charlie. With gut-wrenching terror, he imagined hordes of super strength warriors spewing out, or clouds of deadly diseases, or nuclear annihilation being initiated. Maybe it was just full of vastly bigger and stronger beings. Or microscopically tiny bacteria that could make the earthlings' newfound but tenuous colonization of this planet untenable.
Within the moment, Charlie saw a space-flyer levitating straight up toward the craft, wielding a giant cutting tool. That would be Dax. Charlie knew he should be brave, but he had serious apprehensions about this whole project. What were their hidden intentions? he wondered. Who says they are here in peace? Can we trust them?
As he nervously watched Dax approaching the alien ship, Charlie watched a small spot on the ship emit a small missile. Slowly and gracefully the missile grew larger and larger as it fell towards the ground. It seemed to be aimed straight for him.
It arced straight towards Charlie’s position. Just as it seemed only to be a hundred meters or so above him, Charlie reached out his hand to catch the missile. The time-honored symbol of communications was nearly within his grasp. He gasped when recognition hit him. A bottle with a stopper! Dang if it didn't look just like the ones used in the chow hall here at the base! He wondered if he should be so trusting as to catch it. But his thoughts turned to Dax, flying up there straight towards the mysterious interstellar craft. So far, Dax hadn't been vaporized. Yet.
“Don’t be a wuss,” he told himself. And he caught the bottle.
And as he held it, all kinds of paranoid thoughts filled his gut.
I sure hope this all works out all right, he thought. Is it good news or bad? Is this the harbinger of the greatest step forward our species has ever known? Or the greatest curse of all time?
Will I be castigated as the biggest patsy ever? Or hailed as a hero?
Oh well, there's no going back now.
Charlie's heart began to hammer painfully in his chest.
The ship hove into view, getting closer and closer. It slowed to hover just 800 meters overhead. Amazingly, it made no sound whatsoever. For whatever unknown reason, there was a yellow ribbon tied around its nose-or whatever body part these aliens had that preceded them into a room.
Charlie tapped the outside of his helmet to activate the walkie talkie. (Cute name, that!) He needed to confer with a fellow team member, Dax.
“Open!” responded Dax.
“Do you have any further orders about this beast?” Charlie asked. “I don’t” he added, somewhat pointlessly. "I still feel pretty much in the dark, just like I did when we first got our orders to meet this thing."
“No. Anyway, it hasn’t commenced shooting. Or blasting. Or nuking. Maybe it’s simply observing.” Dax offered. It sure sounded like Dax had had his own misgivings.
Suddenly a bizarre low-pitched humming began strumming through Charlie’s headset. Then an alien computer-generated voice filled Charlie’s head, enclosed though it was in the latest silicon-hematite hybrid globe. A mechanical, metallic, non-inflected voice began its message.
“Marslandians, we come from that beautiful star system you know as Alpha Centauri. We greet you in the name of interstellar peace. We bring you this mechanical wonder that you may travel safely to come back to our home world for mutual cooperation and research.
“As a token of our meeting, we send this time-honored symbol of communication so that you will have evidence for sharing what you have heard with your superiors.
"We also request an emissary to cut the yellow ribbon, thus demonstrating your approval and interest in further contact.”
“I’m going in!” shouted Dax.
“But wait! Maybe it’s a Trojan horse!” shouted Charlie. With gut-wrenching terror, he imagined hordes of super strength warriors spewing out, or clouds of deadly diseases, or nuclear annihilation being initiated. Maybe it was just full of vastly bigger and stronger beings. Or microscopically tiny bacteria that could make the earthlings' newfound but tenuous colonization of this planet untenable.
Within the moment, Charlie saw a space-flyer levitating straight up toward the craft, wielding a giant cutting tool. That would be Dax. Charlie knew he should be brave, but he had serious apprehensions about this whole project. What were their hidden intentions? he wondered. Who says they are here in peace? Can we trust them?
As he nervously watched Dax approaching the alien ship, Charlie watched a small spot on the ship emit a small missile. Slowly and gracefully the missile grew larger and larger as it fell towards the ground. It seemed to be aimed straight for him.
It arced straight towards Charlie’s position. Just as it seemed only to be a hundred meters or so above him, Charlie reached out his hand to catch the missile. The time-honored symbol of communications was nearly within his grasp. He gasped when recognition hit him. A bottle with a stopper! Dang if it didn't look just like the ones used in the chow hall here at the base! He wondered if he should be so trusting as to catch it. But his thoughts turned to Dax, flying up there straight towards the mysterious interstellar craft. So far, Dax hadn't been vaporized. Yet.
“Don’t be a wuss,” he told himself. And he caught the bottle.
And as he held it, all kinds of paranoid thoughts filled his gut.
I sure hope this all works out all right, he thought. Is it good news or bad? Is this the harbinger of the greatest step forward our species has ever known? Or the greatest curse of all time?
Will I be castigated as the biggest patsy ever? Or hailed as a hero?
Oh well, there's no going back now.
***
Charlie hopped on his Mars rover to make the quick trip back to headquarters. (HQ) In five minutes he was able to park right outside the commander's office. An imposing looking guard stood right outside the door, looking for all the world like the bulldog that was their company mascot.
"Halt," commanded the security officer.
"I've come to bring the commander some important information which I must hand over personally," Charlie replied.
"Name, rank, mission?" scowled the guard.
"Corporal Charles Lindersky, and I'm with the operations platoon for today's mission," replied Charlie. "It's imperative that I speak with the Commander immediately. Privately, I might add."
"Very well. One moment please." The guard turned so he was facing away from Corporal Charlie and depressed a button on his helmet. "Sir, a Corporal Lindersky is here to see you about today's mission."
Charlie stepped through the airlocks into the commander's office. He noticed Commander Moore, the other bigwig for this Mars base just standing up from the office table where he and Commander Arnold had obviously been discussing plans.
"I'll meet with you later this afternoon, Ben," commented Commander Moore. "See you then."
Time stood still for Charlie. Ben Arnold. Gears turned slowly but inevitably in Charlie's head. Benedict Arnold. He held the soda bottle behind his back, hiding it from view.
"Yes, Corporal?" Commander Arnold stared at Charlie. His annoyance was mounting as Charlie seemed to lose his voice. "Did everything go well with the secret mission?"
"Ah, yessir, it did. Perfectly according to plan. We saw the vehicle and then it flew away. Uneventful. We'll be getting right back to our usual routine."
The commander squinted at Charlie with a possible question in his eyes. "Oh, I'm a little surprised. But good work, Corporal. See you tomorrow for Physical Training and then our debriefing meeting."
Charlie eased himself out of the office, carefully hiding the soda bottle. What had he done?
"I guess it's probably time to catch up with Dax and get him squared away with this info. We'll need to synchronize our stories."
And Charlie set off to put his soda bottle in a verrry safe place.
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no subject
Date: 2019-01-17 12:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-18 06:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-17 05:00 pm (UTC)Emo Snals game is the gift that keeps on giving. Great job
no subject
Date: 2019-01-18 06:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-18 06:08 am (UTC)Love that the beer is called MacGuffin! :-)
no subject
Date: 2019-01-18 06:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-18 08:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-18 03:05 pm (UTC)⛄❄🐁🐭✌🎀
no subject
Date: 2019-01-18 06:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-18 03:47 pm (UTC)this was a really fun and creative read!
no subject
Date: 2019-01-18 06:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-19 02:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-19 08:12 pm (UTC)Hahaha!
Making the bottle a MacGuffin was a fun choice, because it already was, from the last story! And why not Martian beer? That kind of deepens the intrigue-- the bottle may have come from Mars to begin with. But from whom?
no subject
Date: 2019-01-21 10:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-01-20 03:41 am (UTC)I love that the beer is the MacGuffin. And the acronyms for everything are my favorite. So much fun to read!
no subject
Date: 2019-01-21 10:46 pm (UTC)