Goddess of the Galacticide Episode 21 - Green Wave
- Bert-Oliver Boehmer
- Sep 23
- 5 min read
Updated: 7 days ago
“We shouldn’t go down there alone,” said Linuka Omga.
Assuming the Dark AIs would hesitate to abandon any of their precious few brethren, several cores had to join the expedition to the surface to ensure they didn’t leave Linuka, Oonzu, and the marines behind.
“There might not be a reason to go at all,” said Cha Dzeeny. “Scans haven’t revealed any structures on the planet yet, let alone a well-equipped Võmémééř outpost.”
The commander’s frown was visible even through his thick beard. Linuka had only known her father clean-shaved, except during long space voyages. What was it with men and quitting shaving as soon as they warped more than twice? Distorting space-time and grooming appeared unconnected, although most male marines increasingly resembled the untamed terrain above.
“We should give them more time to work on their scans,” said Linuka. “If anything can find the Võmémééř, it’s the Remnants operating the Chéé’s scanners.”
“That’s true, Shaajis, but you don’t sound convinced we can trust them.”
“I’m not,” said Linuka. “I know that after initial hesitation, they eventually allowed us to roam free on their battle cruiser, and it has done wonders for morale. It certainly has for mine. But I still fear the moment when our usefulness to them has expired.”
“They brought us here. It has been a long flight, but we made it. This hyper-flora place really exists, just as Tswa sni sni claimed. They could have spaced us long ago,” said Cha.
“The Remnants are concerned. They want us to scout the surface first.”
“Can you blame them, Shaajis? Look at this.”
Cha Dzeeny pointed upward. A transparent dome covered the Chéé’s main hangar control room, allowing an unobstructed view of CB4F-EA27, as cataloged by the Võmémééř. The day side, illuminated by the system’s main sequence star, sparkled in the most intense natural shades of green Linuka had ever seen. Greener than the moss crystals of Kaam she held as a child, survivors of the destroyed Hall of Artifacts.
The dark side cut a clear divide onto the sphere, no twilight zone, the lush greens dropping into a black abyss, so abrupt it first appeared there was only half a planet to observe. Scans had shown no vegetation extending into the dark. A shallow ocean covered half of this world, and its low albedo caused suspicion of a severe contaminant in the water.
“I’ve seen some strange tidally locked planets,” said Cha, “but nothing as strange as this.”
Linuka nodded. Prral, where they meant to eradicate the Võmémééř threat, always showed one side toward its star, creating metal-melting wastelands, icy darkness, plus a temperate twilight ring. These planets, if habitable at all, were marginal, undesirable for colonization, unattractive for conquest. Unwanted worlds like Prral, ideal for survivor bases, hoping to avoid the genocidal extra-galactics.
“It is not tidally locked, Commander”, said Tswa sni sni, in her new motherly voice.
“It’s not? We’ve been fixating it for shifts, and the only movement we could notice are these waves running across the plant side of the planet,” said Cha.
“A curious phenomenon,” said the AI core. “I understand your marines found them so striking they named the world ‘Green Wave’.”
“Yes, Lokp Nreez.” Cha Dzeeny avoided Linuka’s gaze.
“How surprisingly poetic. If my interpretation of New Galactic serves me right, nreez means ‘wave’ as an action, like a salutation.”
“Human language…,” said Cha, “is messy.”
Linuka suppressed a laugh. The AI tutor was right, of course. The marines had chosen nreez, not for linguistic value, but because it sounded like nreedz—shit. Lokp meant green indeed, but it was also a slang word for ‘sick’. A strange, unbalanced world. The Remnants wanted the expendable humans to scout it, so they deemed it dangerous. The marines dealt with the prospect of danger and death with crude, defiant humor. ‘Sick shit’ is what they called the wavy semi-planet wide ecosystem, and it endeared them to Linuka even more.
“These waves…” She tried to collect herself. “Are they groundquakes?”
“This was the Remnant’s analyst’s first assessment, but the still ocean surface excludes such active tectonics. Certainly, the level required to be observable from orbit.”
“Well, it can’t be from the rotation, either. It must be super slow, because the green half had stayed in the light zone as long as we had a visual on this place,” said Cha.
“It is, Commander. The current estimate for a single planetary rotation is 240 spins.”
“240?”
Linuka knew habitable planets didn’t have to match the ideal one spin rotation perfectly for human habitation, but this was extreme for such a rich ecosphere.
“So, if we had arrived here 120 spins earlier or later, all we could see on the light side was ocean then?”
“Strange,” said Cha, squinting upward. “And I don’t like strange.”
“For visual beings like humans, the hangar control appears like a perfect observation spot,” said Tswa sni sni. “The Chéé is large and impressive, but mostly windowless. How did you find this room?”
Before Cha could open his mouth, Linuka shot an answer back: “Luck.”
Her stare met the commander’s, and he seemed to understand, staying silent. The Chéé was large indeed, with many floor plans and configurations reflecting the Võmémééř’s alien way of thinking, a maze for the uninitiated.
She was, however, identical to the Ṭawːtfé̃, the prize ship integrated in the Levy fleet, home to Cha Dzeeny and his marines for orbits. They had trained to defend her in any possible way, knowing every last annex, shaft and crawl space.
The marines knew the Chéé just as well as the former slave AIs who helped construct her, a possible tactical advantage. One that disappeared as soon as they attempted landing on the ‘Green Wave’, even with a mixed crew.
“I just received an update from the Remnants,” said Tswa sni sni. “They discovered an artificial structure near the spinward pole, below the upper plant layer surface.”
Linuka beamed. “A hidden base. Of course, if I had to plant my rare super-seedling in the enemy’s realm, I’d hide it, too.”
“Any life signs? Energy signatures?” asked Cha.
“None”, said the AI.
“Maybe they use some cloaking technology,” said Linuka. “That means it’s an active installation.”
“Activity is not confirmed, but the probability of Võmémééř existing on this planet is 91%. Congratulations, Linuka, it looks like you were correct.”
Tswa sni sni had never ceased to be her tutor. She was still grading Linuka’s work. “You provided the triordinates.”
“But you insisted on a diin-related installation to be here. Now, I fear we have to inspect this structure from the surface.”
“You fear?”
“The Remnant’s update included a better understanding of the planet’s peculiar appearance. The reason for the plant surface not moving relative to the day-night border is as unique as it is surprising: The plant ecosystem moves, matching the speed of the slow planetary rotation, in order to stay in the starlight.”
“It moves?” Cha shook his head. “This plant cover is the size of continents.”
“It is indeed,” said the AI. “The waves you have observed are neither tidal nor quakes. They are caused by an interconnected plant surface contracting and expanding.”
Linuka closed her eyes. Not only did they have to expect hostile Dark Ones, fighting to protect their genetic future, no, the environment was rogue waves of organized plants, running desperately, trying to evade death by darkness.
Sick shit indeed.
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