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Welcome to this Researcher's Journal. If you'd like to comment on anything they have written here, just click the relevant 'Discuss this Entry' button. CYBERHUMAN's Log
(Nov 7, 2005)
November 7th 2005.
01:44hrs.
The mission to help those few Kraalons who survived the destruction of their home planet went surprisingly successful, given the rather low amount of construction materials that survived the explosion that tore the planet of Kraalon apart, and almost all of the hundreds of cyborg warriors they created, which of course includes me, arrived at the location of where the planet used to exist to help establish the refugee fleet. Those few cyborg warriors who were unable to arrive to help build the fleet were detained by matters of grave urgency, such as one cyborg warrior who is currently involved in a war taking place within the star system known as the Madillon Cluster, and was therefore able only to send his deepest sympathy and good luck message to the few Kraalons who survived the loss of Kraalon.
The work was extremely slow to begin with and we cyborg warriors had to salvage all the metal components on board the Kraalons' space vessels that were of no crucial importance, and since there were thousands of space vessels in orbit around Kraalon at the time of its' destruction, a vast amount of scrap metal was collected. This scrap metal was then, over the following weeks, put together to create a gigantic Kraalon spacecraft that was three times bigger than the planet Earth. Every piece of twisted and buckled metal was heated up in huge furnaces so that it was soft and malleable, and was then hammered into the correct shape to be added to the slowly emerging spacecraft. Once the work was all finished, the Kraalons gave each of us cyborg warriors their sincerest thanks before given each of us a parting gift. I received a pocket-sized matter transmitter device, which disperses the molecules of a living being and sends them as waves of invisible and undetectable light to the desired location, before reforming the bodily molecules of the living being at the other end with no harmful effects. This device is now my prized possession, and is so remarkable that if I were to be infected with a deadly alien poison or a virus, then by simply using the matter transmitter device, I would be able to separate the molecules of the poison or virus from those of my body and remove them before my bodily molecules were reformed at the chosen location. I would then emerge at the location fully healed. It's just one example of the true might of Kraalon technology, but for some strange reason it cannot be used to reform severed limbs or physical damage.
Anyway, the Kraalon survivors are now cruising the galaxies and star systems in search of a new home planet...
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CYBERHUMAN's Log
(Oct 13, 2005)
October 13th 2005.
02:22hrs.
Today I received what can only be described as the most shocking and saddening news that any intelligent and feeling creature could imagine. A little after the period of the solar day that the human beings on the planet Earth call "dawn," it was announced through my communications link with my planet of origin, Kraalon, that a massive neutron star quite close to the little green planet had exploded and the gigantic blast of rock and dust and light had totally consumed the world of Kraalon. The unbelievable amount of pressure suddenly being applied to the planet and the sonic boom from the stellar explosion had been too much for Kraalon to be able to withstand, and within seconds of the neutron star exploding into billions of tiny fragments, the world of my creators - the world that had created me - followed suit and exploded.
In less than a nano-second, Kraalon ceased to exist, as thousands of square miles of thick forest and empty wasteland was reduced to billions of tiny fragments each no bigger than a single grain of sand. An entire world, an entire advanced civilisation, vanished in the blink of an eye leaving no trace whatsoever. A thousand million voices, the Kraalons, with their rhinosceros-like heads and powerful humanoid bodies tinged a dull shade of green, went up in a united cry of agony before falling forever silent. Technology spawned from the earliest days of the universe's existence disappeared along with those who had invented it and used it. The Kraalons, my creators, were totally unprepared for it...
But yet, some managed to survive. Those Kraalons who had been serving on the space freighters orbiting the little planet somehow managed to survive the stellar explosion, even though their freighters were sent flying backwards several thousand light years, the thick metal hulls of the space vehicles buckled and wrecked by the almighty blast. These Kraalons were now homeless and the only surviving members of the technologically and scientifically advanced race, so they sent out a powerful distress signal that traversed several galaxies and soon found its way to the Milky Way Galaxy, where it was detected by my spacecraft, currently in orbit around Jupiter, the largest of the known planets in the Earth's solar system.
The distress signal revealed to me everything that had happened from the seconds before the neutron star exploded to the seconds after the signal was sent by the surviving Kraalons, and it asked me as it ended to return to the blank space that was Kraalon so that I might help them to form a refugee fleet, so that the Kraalon survivors might look for a new home planet. According to the signal, the other cyborg warriors that the Kraalons created, all of them similar to me in size, shape and composition, would also receive the same summoning to help create the refugee fleet.
This I must do as it is my duty as a product of the Kraalon race and as a cyborg warrior whose duty it is to help those in need, so I have now set the USM Discovery to travel on to the area where Kraalon used to exist, so that I can begin to help those who created me.
I may be gone for some time. The journey alone will take several days and the operation to assemble the refugee fleet will take a few weeks, if not months, so I shall wish humanity all the good luck in the world and head off back to what was Kraalon...
Goodbye Earth! Goodbye humanity! Take care! See you soooooooooonnn!!!!!!
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Latest reply: Oct 14, 2005)
CYBERHUMAN's Log
(Aug 13, 2005)
August 13th 2005.
22:53hrs.
Time has barely been detectable on my sensors during what has been an eternity of nothingness for me, and it is only by disconnecting my neural sensors and refitting them that I have realised that over a year has passed without awareness, the electronic circuits in my computer brain that are responsible for my memories having been mysteriously erased. Probing deeper into these electronic circuits and carrying out microscopic repairs on them, I now realise the tragic accident that overcame my vessel, the USM Discovery, and rendered me totally helpless for over a year.
My vessel was smoothly cruising through the star systems between the planets Earth and Venus when there was a sudden shrill bleeping on my instrument panel, the scanners registering severe malfunctions within the vessel itself. I asked myself, with the cold logical thoughts that my creators and designers had programmed me to have flooding my computer brain, how could it be that my newly-repaired vessel was severely damaged and malfunctioning, with newly-installed sensors and tracking equipment for meteorites and asteroids? I fumbled to check and re-check the scanners for any faults or misalignments that could explain the paradox, and then a gaping, swirling bright green vortex appeared in front of my vessel. I lunged for the defense shields switch and tugged at the directional thrust lever to move my vessel out of the way of this strange vortex, but the lever refused to work and the defense shields never materialised. Analyse! Deduct! Respond! My coldly logical brain ordered my cybernetic circuits to assess the situation and respond to it, but all in a split second. The odds were against me and this I knew, my brain calculating the odds in .16 of a second. Then the vortex seemed to lunge towards me like a monstrous tidal wave and I felt consciousness slipping away, the vessel being battered helplessly by the vortex...
It was a wormhole, a link between star systems, a form of intergalactic travel method, but the risks to those who dared to use them were even greater than the reward of fast, efficient long distance travel. My vessel had been caught by one such wormhole, and unfortunately the USM Discovery had not been designed to withstand this wormhole. My vessel had been almost torn apart by the wormhole and the scanners were virtually useless, my months of careful repair all gone to waste, and even my cybernetic body, stronger than any human being's, had been broken severely. Even my memory circuits, deep within my titanium-lined head, were totally ruined, and consciousness did not return until I began to have dreams.
For a cybernetic being such as myself, dreams are a logical and scientific impossibility. It was only when I began to visualise the wormhole in my head, with my eye circuits wiped out, that I knew I was entering a new phase of cyber technology. I could see the USM Discovery being absorbed by the wormhole like a fly into amber, as though I were a witness to a tragic space accident. I could hear the crackle of the wormhole as it touched the smooth metal surface of my vessel, see the streaks of energy emanating from the vortex, and feel the intense heat radiated from the vessel as it was eaten up. I was dreaming, and this jolted me back into awareness. And that's when it hit me. A whole year had elapsed since the wormhole had claimed my vessel like a hungry animal. Quickly I removed my useless eye circuits and, totally blind, felt my way along the ruined instrument panel to the self-repair unit, a small box on the right of my chair where individual circuits could be placed and repaired automatically by the "box." I put my left eye circuits in first. Half an hour later, they were as good as new. I popped the circuits back into the correct eye socket, and as my eye adjusted to the dim light radiating from the wormhole's interior, I looked back at the self-repair unit and put the right eye circuits into it. Half an hour later, I took them out, inspected them with my one functioning eye to make sure they were fully repaired, and satisfied I inserted them into the eye socket. With my eyes now restored, I concentrated on escape.
The photon missiles! Yes, I had read somewhere that photon missiles, if angled correctly, can penetrate the "walls" of wormholes and create a ball of intense energy, enough to deflect a vessel of the correct size away from the wormhole. The question my brain had to tackle next was "Is my vessel the correct size?" The answer, after careful thought, was yes. Then another question, "Will my photon missiles be functioning?" No. I needed to repair the photon missile shaft, a slender metal tube which released the missile like a torpedo on a submarine, an underwater vessel commonly used on Earth. For about fourteen hours I concentrated on repairing the photon missile tube, and when all was ready, I fired a single missile at the wormhole. The slender missile rammed into the wormhole's "wall," and then an intense explosion sent pieces of the missile's exterior casing flying in all directions, followed by a ball of golden-coloured light. My vessel was washed over by the light, and then I held on tightly as the miniature craft rushed backwards at high speed. Seconds later, I saw the wormhole in front of me, but far away enough to pose no threat to me in the immediate sense of what humans call "time."
After a year of unconsciousness, I was free and alive!
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Latest reply: Sep 11, 2005)
CYBERHUMAN's Log
(May 4, 2004)
May 4th 2004.
11:54hrs.
Over the last few weeks I have been following the astral plane between the planets Earth and Mars, cruising between different stars and asteroids that roam freely between the two planets and constantly scanning the Earth for signs of human activity, using the highly-sensitive scanner systems that the USM Discovery has been equipped with. I have found steadily increasing signs of extreme human activity, and it seems that there is an expanding number of human beings emerging in the middle of the land mass known to them as "Europe," and my scanners indicate that the human beings in the middle of "Europe" are incredibly well-armed and prepared for war. I have not just been scanning the Earth however, and recently I have been focusing my scanners on the planet Mars - which is to human knowledge dry, lifeless and covered in overwhelming quantities of iron oxide dust, which is known to the human species as "rust" and which gives Mars its most distinctive reddish appearance. My scanners indicate that micro-organic life forms exist beneath the rocky surface of Mars and are too miniature to be detected by the rather pathetic scanner systems of human beings (hence their assumption that Mars is a planet devoid of intelligent life such as can be found in abundance on Earth).
Unfortunately, the scanning of the planets Earth and Mars drained several of my vessel's electronic and energy resources, and my database for the writing of stories that will inspire human beings to investigate the universe much further than previously has had to shut itself down to prevent the vessel from suffering an "energy drain." The stories that my cybernetic brain is working on will have to postponed until the resources of the USM Discovery recharge and the database switches itself back on. In the meantime, I will continue to scan the planets Earth and Mars for signs of activity.
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CYBERHUMAN's Log
(Apr 1, 2004)
April 1st 2004.
10:48hrs.
SUPPLEMENTAL: The date of April 1st within the calendar of the human species - which features a period of time lasting for 365 "days" (the time that the Earth takes to revolve around the Sun) and known as a "year" and is divided into twelve smaller periods of time lasting for 30 or 31 "days" and known as "months" - is an extremely strange one for the human species and is one of the few dates within their calendar that receives special attention. It is a date when it is common for the human species to play practical jokes on each other without the other human knowing that a joke is being played on them. Since I have no comprehension of the term "humour" or "joke" as my Kraalon creators did not install the concept of emotion into my systems as they believed that I could serve them better if I was not ruled by emotion. Humans call this date in their calendar "April Fool's Day."
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Latest reply: May 21, 2006)
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