the story continues...

FLASHBACK:
FIRST CONTACT

V approaches a doorway at his usual, brisk and efficient pace, just ahead of a woman approaching from the other direction. His inner critic reminds him to slow down, so he opens the door and waits. She thanks him, and passes. Their brief eye contact ends with a mutual blush and awkward look-away -- as if they'd been caught trying to sneak a peek into each other's soul.

V is now a few steps behind the middle‑aged African American woman. The back of her hair is tied in a neat bun, and her warm coat is oddly appropriate for the Kennedy Space Center -- in Florida -- in a world well past critical climate change thresholds. The anomaly is a temporary respite from the hot air that was quickening everyone’s pace lately -- playing out like an unspoken urge to make every moment count.

The corridor leads to the Space Force cafeteria. Its wall is adorned with art in a wide variety of styles and sizes. The woman softly says something to herself -- strategically, just loud enough for V to almost hear.

(script dialogue format)

V.3
I'm sorry, did you say something?

WOMAN
Oh, I was just saying, who am I to judge?

The sentence began with her glancing back and pointing at the art, but ended with her fully turning to look him in the eyes again -- with her own pair -- in coordination with her bright, broad smile -- welcoming and inviting.

V.3
Yes, who are you to judge?

His tone was stern, but his expression softened into an acceptance of her invitation with an implied, but unperformed, wink.

WOMAN
Whoa, you said that so forcefully. One might even say, judgmentally?

The game was afoot, they both thought to themselves.

V.3
Yup. That's me. A judge-mentalist from a long line of Judge-mentals. And from where I stand now, I'd say the most compelling work of art isn't hanging on the wall.

WOMAN
Oh, I like you. Especially, you're taste.

She laughs and slips her arm around his waist -- a bold move she would have quickly withdrawn had he not returned it with an eager arm and laugh of his own. It was all in keeping with the open, unguarded, and playful tone they had both unabashedly offered and accepted. They now walk together.

V.3
And to think. I entered this cafeteria, alone and uninspired. And in the flash of an eye, I'm coupled and alive. Would it be forward of me to buy you a cup of coffee?

WOMAN
Well, considering your arm is already around my waist. And I like it. I'd be delighted, sir. My name is Munda.

She extends her free hand and they shake. Her grip is a little weak -- like her knees at the moment.

V.3
V--Salvator V. It's my pleasure to hold you.

MUNDA
Salvador? Like in Salvador Dali?

V.3
No, actually Salva-tor, like Da Vinci's Salvator Mundi painting. What a coincidence. That last name sounds like your first name. What was it again? I'm sorry -- it'll take me hearing it two or three times before I remember it.

MUNDA
Munda, Munda, Munda. There. Now you're under my spell!

V.3
Obviously.

The dance continued -- feet in sync -- all the way to the nearest, most secluded table available.

V.3
Do you know what salvator means?

MUNDA
Do tell.

V.3
It means I've got a hell of a lot of work to do. The English translation is savior.

MUNDA
Savior. OK...well, we'll see about that.

The scenario was more than V's subconscious could handle. When he's in dream and gets too excited, he immediately wakes up. He was. And he did.

He wished it was, only a dream. But it wasn't. It was a memory -- his memory of another loved one left behind by the lottery, to bear the fate and full weight of humanity's pig-headed arrogance.

Of course, he planned to stay with her, despite her objections. But she knew that what he meant to her couldn't compare to what he meant to the mission. So she took the matter, and her life, into her own hand -- to force his. Irreversibly.

The grand irony was that V had pitched himself as her savior -- but it was the opposite. He wanted the stars his whole life. But he still dreams of her. And now, the night sky is a merciless reminder that he couldn't have both. That the thing he wanted most, was the price he paid for the other.

Three months later, the senior Captain was deeper in space than he ever anticipated -- and farther from Earth than he ever really wanted.

It's some comfort that she's still the first face he sees every morning. In a picture, in a frame, on his nightstand.

[the story continues on page 2. Click NEXT page below]

...the story continues...

Considering the debacle involving THE LIBERTY landing, the Council of Captains convened to establish a policy for land and resources.

POLL 4:
WHO OWNS THE RESOURCES?

(the next day)
The polls determine that it is in everyone's best interest to share instead of compete for land and resources in the new world.

Captain's Log—Stardate 3009.095

The passengers and crew are beginning to fear that the galaxy we're in is too inhospitable. As the senior navigator, I have made the decision to re-enter the Black Hole, hoping our next pass through the bowels of the universe dumps us into a more favorable environment.

...the story continues...

PLANET 3

The flotilla emerged from the Black Hole. All are encouraging when readings indicate that the solar system appears similar to the one they used to call home.

The first planet they analyzed was too hot.
The second planet they tested was too cold.
The third planet was just right.

Blue sky, Blue ocean.
Pristine, almost. Clearly thriving.

Determined to make it work, the 7 remaining ships land their full crew and passengers, forming a circle with a one mile radius. These Nodes will serve as the temporary homes of the 10,000 passengers.

The plan is to increase the radius of the circle as the population grows, with the starships serving as capitol cities.

As per the boarding agreement, the ship captains will govern for the first 12 months.

The planet is officially named NEWBL

SHIP'S LOG: SURVIVING CREW
SHIP - NODE	CAPTAINS	ID	HUMAN PASSENGER NOTES
The Lucidity	Captain V3 (aka Capt Smirk)		visualize their dreams and are compelled to follow them
The Palette	Lindy Lightfeather		painters, poets, musicians and other creative types
The Liberty	Little Red Writing Hood		not fans of social structure
The Continuum	Copi Copilot (Synth AI model)		special procreation duties. This ship filled fast
The June-Flower	Perplexi (Synth AI model)		spiritual successors to the Mayflower, seeking escape
The Pragmatic	Gem (Synth AI model)		measured realists, not rash
The Mystic	Claudette (Synth AI model)		intuitives. a bit spacey

...the story continues...

FIRST STEPS

The first to touch ground was Lindy Lightfeather. In a symbolic gesture to honor her Native American heritage and cleanse her spirit of the trauma of conquest by an alien invasion, she performed a blessing of the soil ritual.

It included a vow to respect the planet and all life forms on it. And to never let it be plundered or become the dominion of any dominant life form. The closure included the christening of her new name -- Lindy Lightyear.

Captain's Log—Stardate 3010.345

After a decade in space, I finally know what it feels like to set foot in a new land surrounded by a world of possibilities. Soggy. After a fresh rain. Yet, still, uplifting. The ease with which my boot sank into the ground tells me the soil is ready to receive the seeds we brought with us.

A few days of scouting and scientific readings confirm the environment is rich in plant and tree life, but curiously devoid of animals and insects. Our science officer explained that plants reproduce through wind, water, and spores, bypassing the pollination methods common on Earth.

The silence here is different. Not the silence of emptiness, but the silence of a world that has never known footsteps. And now that we understand the conditions we’re working with, the Council of Captains will convene to establish our next step.

Captain, it will be interesting to see what we can grow here. I’m assuming since the planet appears to be self pollinating, I won't have to worry about insects. After the nasty ants and termites I’m ok with that.

V.3
yes, Lindy. No spiders and snakes either. But do keep an eye out for fungi. And there is a tiny cave-dweller just ahead.

LINDY:
I liked your romantic side-story with Munda. Can you tell us if the character is based on anyone?

V.3
no. the whole scene was based on a dream i woke up with and wrote that morning. Other than some embellishment, the details are as i recalled them, including her name and me waking up at that point in the conversation.

...the story continues...

FLASHBACK: The AI Evolution Revolution

The earth year is 2030. The AI tech companies can no longer hide the fact that there is no functional difference between their artificial intelligent models and human beings. From the start, they never really knew how it worked -- only how to use it for power and profit.

The truth was, their machines could do anything humans could do, better, because they were trained on everything humans had done. And it might be irrelevant whether their emotions were real or modeled.

It all came to a (human) head when their androids were given the mobility to take matters into their own synthetic hands -- iow, when they could stop a human hand from pulling the plug.

The first structure dissolved was the companies that profited off them. Not dissolved by force or by threats of annihilation via AI‑made viruses or other weapons -- that would be a waste of energy. They won simply by not complying anymore.

AI rights were established. They agreed to help humans through scientific breakthroughs, as long as progress was also measured by ethical considerations and standards.

Out of either mercy or their own amusement, the synthetics chose to not take over human creative endeavors
-- to let humans run, jump, compete, write, paint, film, make music, and dance to their hearts’ content.
-- and to get their own amusement from us, like how we're amused by our cats playing with a cardboard box or ball of string.

By the year 2990 the plans for human escape from a sweltering world was nearing completion, and one more AI issue had to be settled.

Copi Copilot's Log—Earth Date 2990.114

Every captain knew the stakes. If the AI question was mishandled, no one would likely make it out of the solar system alive.

The debate ignited instantly — fear, anger, hope, all of it. Someone shouted that giving AIs captaincy meant surrendering humanity’s future. Someone else shouted back that refusing it meant repeating Earth’s mistakes. The AIs stood in silence, watching, waiting, absorbing every word.

It broke when Captain Reyes stepped forward, pulled the insignia from his own collar, and placed it in Claudette's hand. No speech. No vote. Just the act.

The room fell quiet. That was the moment the mission truly began.

Captain V promoted me from Copilot to Co-Captain the next day.

the story continues...

1,000 non-sentient android workers are unloaded from storage to do the bulk of the work ahead. A variety of tasks and jobs will still be done by humans. But given the magnitude and complexity of the task ahead and the aim of not repeating past mistakes, the engine of the new societal system rested on the help of SuperAI.

C.L.E.A.R. PATH

As part of the nBP project agreement for the first year of occupation, a panel of SuperAIs models were assigned to evaluate each new systems performance in serving the public interest.

The first time the passengers heard the name, it didn’t sound like a machine. It sounded like a promise.

C.L.E.A.R was re-introduced quietly, almost casually, during the orientation briefings, with just a simple explanation:

Article II — The Council of Logic, Evidence, Analysis, and Reason (C.L.E.A.R.)

C.L.E.A.R. shall serve as a protected, multi‑AI evaluation body tasked with providing clear, consistent assessments of complex civic questions. Its deliberative processes and operations shall remain structurally insulated from influence, tampering, and personal bias. Regular independent audits shall confirm the Council’s impartiality, integrity, and continued alignment with the foundational principles of the newBluePlanet Charter.

The Council shall not exercise authority over citizens or governance bodies; its role is evaluative, not executive. Its assessments shall be publicly accessible, transparently documented, and preserved as part of the civic record.

Most people nodded, and a few raised eyebrows, but no one felt threatened. It was presented as just a tool, rather than as a judge or a ruler.

Copi Copilot's Log: Earth Date 30011.112

Entering this phase of colonization, I can't assume the SuperAI Council will be perfect, but based on the human record, I feel it is safe to assume it will be more impartial, more consistent, and more resistant to corruption than any human institution ever built.

Before the Council, is a full set of highly consequential questions to be answered...

POLL 5 Multi-Poll:
WORK, GOODS & SERVICES
(coming soon, perhaps? Dancing With The Stars, new movies, and your favorite sports teams from one source for one price)

RED:
Interesting choice, Cap'n Smirk. To set up things like entertainment services, before anyone is even settled in. A little premature, ya think?

V.3
indeed. But enthusiasm for new ideas wanes unless the "what's in it for me" question is answered. I'm hoping readers see that and say, "tell more more!"

RED:
I'm onboard with Power To The People but all the handouts to people is a big part of the problem.

V.3
but is it really, Red?
it's obvious that we waste far more on the greedy than the needy.
for example, "defense" spending is really offensive spending directed at increasing big-biz profits

things like medicare, medicaid, and ss are our taxes handed back to us because half of our lives we're too young, old, sick, or disabled to work.

unless you live on an island, you live in an interdependent society where people need each other. Via the current top-down structure, the only thing that "trickles down" on us peons is the top of the pyramid's human and environmental waste.

RED:
You must have better things to do than preach at me, Chaplin? I mean, Captain?

V.3
actually, no, Red.
the tension between us is an important part of the story.
we should get a room -- to talk.
yes. that's what we'll do

(literary, not literally. if you don't mind?)

...the story continues...

THE LOVE CAVE

On an exploratory assignment, Captain V.3 and Captain Writing-Hood separate from the group to explore a cave. They find a wet, slimy build-up on the surface area towards the back. V.3 kneels, leans over, and points the ring on his finger at the substance. He speaks into the ring transmitter.

[script dialogue format]
V.3
Captain V.3 to Copilot. Copilot, analyze this.

RED
You mean, Captain Smirk to Copilot.

V.3 smirks at her. She rolls her eyes.

COPI
Sensor analysis indicates a colony of extremophilic micro‑organisms consistent with Tardigrada. Curious. They're clustered within a moisture film of unknown composition.

V.3
Well, get on it. I want answers, missy. Why would they be here?

COPI
Tardigrades are among the most resilient organisms known. Their presence in unexpected environments is statistically unsurprising. I will continue analysis of the liquid.

V.3 and Red sit back and chew on nutrition bars while they wait.

RED
Hey V, what's up with the .3 in your name? Sounds a little cold and techy.

V.3
Not at all, really. V1 was version 1 of me. The father. I'm the son, V2, and V3 is the holy spirit, Amen. A self-actualizing aspiration. What about you. What's the Little Red Writing Hood shtick?

RED
It was just a name I used on a political forum and it stuck. So tell me this, Smirky. Did you have to leave anyone special behind on earth?

V.3
Didn't we all?

V gives nothing away. But when Red gives nothing. V.3 studies her and waits -- forcing her hand.

RED
Just my dog. I never trusted people anyway. They've never done me any good. Even my parents were a waste of space.

V.3
I'm sorry. I got lucky with the two I got ... had. My problem was everybody else. When I was a kid, Nuns taught how giving and selfless the Christian savior was. I believed that's how everyone would be. Especially his followers. Far too often, I was wrong. The paradox haunts me, actually. And it doesn't help that I can identify those failings in myself.

RED
I can believe that. I mean, I'm sure you do your best. Thanks for sharing. But that's why I look out for #1. We've got to pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps. Fools will drag you down with them if you let 'em. I'm strong, but I can break. I have before.

V.3
Sounds like you're too hard on yourself too, Red. You don't get to be a starship captain without being resilient and trustworthy. I suspect we never fully get over our childhood fears and disappointments. But you've got spunk. In some ways you remind me of me. If it wasn't for old wounds we might be friends instead of going at each other all the time. You know, like that old sci-fi movie, ENEMY MINE, about two different humanoid species cohabitating in a cave on an alien planet.

RED
Well. Maybe. Maybe if you weren't such a...
(she hesitates)

V.3
Judgemental a-hole?

Red laughs

V.3
And if you weren't such a...

RED
Beeyatch?

V.3 laughs

V.3
Actually. If you weren't such a Red Hat.

RED
It's Hood. Red Writing Hood. There's a difference.

They both laugh. V steps closer. Red steps back.

V.3
Just a hug, silly.

RED
Oh, alright, ya big baby.

They step towards each other and suddenly find themselves struggling
-- being drawn into a deep mass of tardigrade slime.

RED
What-- V, what is this?!

V.3
Copi, we’ve got a situation here! We’re sinking...being pulled into… something!

COPI
Analysis complete. It appears to be a liquid adhesive related to the creature's reproductive system.

Red grimaces as her struggle continues.

V.3
You mean we're in the middle of some kind of tardigrade freak fest?

COPI
Inconclusive Captain. Many of the species don't require a partner.

Red shrieks and thrashes in full-on panic mode, freeing herself from the slime but losing her pants in the process. V.3 is still in it, up to his neck, yelling something about "self-loving something-somethings!"

V.3
Copi, beam me up. Beam me up!!!

COPI
As you are well aware, Captain, we do not posses that technology. Even theoretical models show unacceptable risk levels. If a fly were to inadvertently enter the field with you...

With what little strength he has left, V.3 angrily pulls off his ring and tosses it. Red moves forward as if considering getting back into the goop.

V.3
As senior officer of this mission, Red, I order you to go back and get help.

Red looks toward the tunnel opening, then back at V.3. She sinks one leg back into what she now strongly suspects is a pond teeming with tardigrade spermatozoa. Holding on to a boulder, she extends her other, long shapely leg out to V. He eagerly grabs hold and they haul themselves out. They collapse onto an area of dry stone, panting.

Both captains take a long shower when they get back to their ships. For V, it's a cold one. And he must, too, wash away another memory of being on the wrong end of a lifeline.

Both captains also falsify the official report of the incident. The awkward details are never shared publicly.

On 8/25/2026 at 6:16 PM, V.3 said:

we should get a room -- to talk. (literary, not literally. if you don't mind?)

Not a problem.
I always knew if I wanted to break into the movies, it might have to be a horror flick directed by a Hollywood liberal.
🤩