[SIDESTORY] Morbit Vignettes

[skinstealer]

Laurel- 2020
Ringor Mortis
No content warnings
Laurel gets caught up in their theories.

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The launch is a failure, again. None of them have ever been successes, but Laurel knows they have to stick it out on the off chance that something finally, finally breaks out of the atmosphere and lasts for more than two seconds. It’s infuriating- satellites for things like satellite television and phone calls last without a problem, but the second they send out something meant for observing what’s out there or a test for potential living astronauts, it’s destroyed within moments. 

“What’s the consistent factor...what’s the through line…” The corvice pores over their notes, sighing in frustration. “I need to find whatever’s causing these issues before the bosses have my hide…” 

Talking out loud has always helped them think, even if it’s caused more than a few awkward encounters with coworkers. It’s easy to downplay at least, and most people just laugh it off when they try to explain. Worst they’ve ever gotten is a disturbed glare or two, and those people weren’t anybody to worry about anyway. Besides, when the work is this important, any leg up in the game is worth more than the opinions of others.

“It’s always things that let us see, be it through devices or a potential astronaut. For some reason, communications are okay, but only if they still remain centric to the planet itself...but why? Why keep us so enclosed- no, stop that, not time for one of your conspiracy theories again.”

The theories themselves always seem to worm their way into Laurel’s mind, unavoidable ever since they first thought them up. It seemed so simple, too simple, and too far-fetched. It’d be an easy answer, but it’s not one that they want to believe- and it’s not like anyone’d listen to them on it to begin with. 

But still…

“I mean, if there is…something out there keeping us in, it’d have to be intelligent, or the communication satellites handling local planet stuff would be taken down as well. Even then, if it’s something sapient, why would it bother allowing us that and nothing else? Is it...amusing to them? Can they listen to us talk to each other, intercepting whatever they find interesting? Could that be the reason why we have such strange phenomenon regarding “cursed” television stations and mysterious phone calls...no, it’s too silly. That’s horror story stuff. I’m a scientist, dang it…”

But still...

“If that was the case, anyway, it’d mean we’re at the mercy of something far bigger than us, and are basically being toyed with like playthings. Even if that was true and I could prove it, who would I even tell? But...if I can prove it, and people listen, it could potentially save lives...aghhh!” 

They flop forward onto their desk, smacking their head gently against it for good measure. It always came back around to this, and they’re getting sick of it, sick of the fantasizing and making things up just because it’s interesting.

After all, everyone knew there’s no such thing as aliens.