I have arrived!

It took me eleven days to reach this place but I’m finally here. It’s about time! Before me lies a standard 12-planet star system formed around a type-B main sequence star. Four gas giants, five rocky planets, two toxic waste dumps, and one nondescript ball of primordial goo. The layout is simple, the contents standard. It is a very normal yet surprisingly rich star system full of all manner of stellar bodies and minor phenomena to catalogue. Besides the twelve planets there are also 96 moons, two asteroid belts, and an errant comet running through the system.

Tiny amounts of particulate matter and random energies are carried over by infinitesimally weak solar winds from the heart of the star system. The weak solar wind brings with it the charming fragrance of a youthful star in its prime. A floral aroma with a hint of honey and warm tones of plasma strands entwined together. Smells like life. Smells like happiness. I take in a deep breath and enjoy the sensation for a moment. A small smile sneaks its way onto my face as I gaze upon my target.

This star system has been slated for a detailed survey scan for a while now. The first round of scans was completed by an automated probe nearly four centuries ago and the data was transmitted to the astrometric databanks shared by all of Star Society for further analysis. The fourth planet from the star showed signs of advanced life when the survey data was analyzed, so this system was automatically prioritized for a detailed survey above more mundane targets.

At least, that’s what was supposed to happen. Somewhere along the way something went wrong with the automated information handling process and the preliminary data from the automated probe was lost in cyberspace for centuries until some lucky technician accidentally dislodged the data free from whatever information limbo it was stuck in. This happened half a year ago. Which brings me here.

My name is Magnus Otava, but people just call me Otava. I prefer it that way. I am a Starchild. It’s not some grandiose self-aggrandizing title I’ve bestowed to myself because I had no friends when I was young and human. It’s the name of my people: Homo astralis. That is the proper name in the formal systems language; a language most people never bother to learn to their demerit.

Ours is a people immersed in life among the stars, not under them. Some races and cultures prefer a life of solitude or living on familiar terrestrial grounds close to what they experience as nature. Others wish for nothing but a life of luxury and hedonism. There was once a wise man who said that we are all made of star-stuff. These words were more profound than he possibly could have realized, going well beyond simple atomism. We are made of the same building blocks as the raging furnace of nuclear fire that is a star, and so our hearts yearn for a connection with the cosmic and the divine. What better place to connect with the Cosmos than directly in her cold embrace? But that’s just my personal bias talking. Ask someone for the meaning of life and you’ll get a different answer each time.

My favorite activity for the past seventy years has been strolling around the galaxy. I like it. I don’t know exactly why I like walking around so much but it’s not something I spend a lot of time thinking about. Taking a gander, a stroll, a walkabout, sauntering, promenading. The only thing I haven’t done yet is to think of a new concept for walking. Maybe I should think of one? Add in some extra moves and some new quantum states for my Self and presto: a new concept for walking! I might just be a genius – a piece of unpolished jade lying in the rough.

Every galaxy is a big and beautiful place, full of wonders both marvelous and dreadful. To explore an entire galaxy is no small task. Certainly not something any individual could hope to achieve in their lifetime even if they were given a billion years to do it. Galaxies are simply too big and have too many things in them.

So far, I believe I’ve visited around five thousand star systems, give or take a few hundred stellar bodies. That’s not much at all. Every galaxy contains on average between 100 to 500 billion stars so going through five thousand stars is nothing much. Then again, there are thousands upon thousands of astrographers engaged in survey and analysis of stellar phenomena and stellar objects, so we do get things done at a decent pace even if I’ve done only a tiny amount of that work.

Oh yes, since my favorite hobby is to literally walk among the stars I decided to make it my profession as well. I am an astrographer – a person whose responsibility it is to survey and catalogue stellar phenomena, various miscellaneous stellar objects, and star systems. Our duties extend from typical survey missions of relatively static objects like stars to ad hoc research missions of recently discovered spatial anomalies, archeological expeditions, listening for signs of intelligent life, pursuing clues of life in general et cetera.

It can be said that astrographers are the first to discover all things novel and never-before-seen in the cosmos, besides those rogue adventurers who belong to no faction or association and just do what they want. We are the first on the scene and the first to lay our eyes upon whatever novelties lie beyond the nearest stellar nursery. After our initial findings are recorded, analyzed, and publicized for the appropriate audiences specialized research teams are dispatched to conduct more detailed studies. This division of labor is both prudent and efficient.

One of the greatest opportunities for any astrographer is to find new life. Not microbial goo or some random algae, but sophisticated life with limbs and brains. Or stalks. Plants tend to have a very high degree of intelligence on some worlds, far surpassing your common primates and aquatic species. I met an intelligent shrub once. It had quite a few things to say about geoengineering and culinary traditions when it really got going, and it would not shut up.

In any case, I’m currently on an assignment to survey a little unnamed star system going by the designation AD1175-E/103. I’m the first person to survey this system. Since I’m the first person to do an in-depth survey of this system I also have certain naming rights. Anything unique or interesting I find, I can also name. This is the second reason I picked astrography as my primary occupation: I love naming things and leaving my name in the history books, no matter how small my contributions may be. There is a certain satisfaction that comes with giving names to things, a form of mastery that is very pleasing to the heart and soul.

But enough about all that. It’s time to work! Preparations are mostly complete and there are only a tiny handful of things to do before we can get to work. My sensor suite and available probes have been calibrated for planetary survey and their chrome polished. The energy refiner at the back of my vest is working at full capacity, capacitors are fully charged, and my jump boots are prepared and operational.

A low inaudible hum permeates the space around me. There is no air in space so there is no sound, but space itself functions as the medium for this peculiar trembling sensation. It hits my ear canals and gives off tremors which would normally be mildly disorienting. Fortunately, I always travel prepared: inertial nullifiers and protective force fields negate all forms of unwanted physical anomalies and effects.

High density energy flows from the capacitors located on my belt and vest through the energy refiner on my lower back and down to my boots. This is a precursor for a stable jump from point A to point B. First, orient yourself and set a direction. Then, build up exotic and intense energies around the body focusing on the jump boots. Finally, take a step.

First step. The energy refiner hums and churns at full capacity. Extremely concentrated multiphasic particle energy runs down my legs towards my feet. A hazy glow of light and errant particles of purple energy spread outwards beneath my boots like purple flames as space ripples with the first step. Momentum is building, energy is gathered.

Second step. Energy permeates my entire body as small gentle ripples in space spread from beneath my feet further and further away. The illusory flames of purple energy grow wilder and spread outwards with the second step as spatial ripples intensify. My body glows with an ethereal purple light.

Third step. Momentum and energy buildup have reached a critical point. My boot descends onto the void. A resounding shock of cracking space and wild multiphasic energy spreads outwards as space around the jump point trembles and rips asunder. Minute cracks are formed in the void which permit entrance to the lower strata of space, or subspace, for a successful jump to be executed. All of this happened within a timespan of three seconds.

My body vanishes with a blink and the spatial cracks and wild energies calm down in short order. I arrive before the young star I was admiring earlier from the edge of the star system. This is the starting point for this survey. It is time to begin. The sensory suite integrated into my body, equipment, and clothes becomes fully operational and is ready to begin recording. I take this moment to enjoy the sensation of standing next to this young energetic star, being washed by the wild solar winds like enjoying a nice warm shower.

This star is still relatively young: under four billion years old. The energy output is high relative to it’s size and the color is vibrant and bright. The floral aroma and hints of honey and dew are like the first greetings of spring coming down a mountain valley. There are also some hints of exotic and spicy aromas coming off this star. I’m uncertain as to what that is tied to, but it must be something atypical. The light cast by the star is both bright and nourishing – nothing like the dull glow of ancient red giants or dead dwarf stars which instill an observer with nothing but fatigue and dreariness of eons.

The ability to enjoy solar winds and other cosmic forces with my five senses is a magnificent experience, unparalleled in its exquisiteness. Every strand of plasma, every wave of heat, every shower of cosmic radiation brings about with them a different sensation. Bitter, sweet, spicy, loud, complex. The smells, the tastes, the sounds, the sensations, the sights. All senses refined to highlight the beauty and majesty of even the simplest asteroid or comet fragment to the utmost.

People can wax poetically about the feminine mystique or about the marvels of the human form, how like a god it is, admirable in form and movement. But nothing truly compares to the overwhelming majesty of stars and singularities or the graceful symmetry of planetary ring systems or icy comets shooting through the void. As an astrographer and a Starchild, I get to enjoy the finest art the cosmos has to offer as I traverse the galaxy.

This magnificent privilege is the result of finely crafted and calibrated sensory algorithms which I have modified myself during the many decades I have spent traveling the stars. A personalized sensory package. I’ve linked the sights and sounds of what is perceived as spring with vibrant energies of youthful stars just like this one. I feel this association is proper. Ancient stars, on the other hand, smell and feel like a well-matured wine or an old wooden cabinet. They have an air of ancientness to them. Another appropriate association. To be able to modify equipment, software, or Laws to your personal preferences is a sign of true expertise.

Besides working as an astrographer, I also make some extra income by selling my highly attuned and sophisticated sensory algorithms designed to elicit extraordinary sensations as well as some particularly interesting sensory recordings of unique events or phenomena I’ve encountered in the cosmos. Some of the most unique sensory recordings can fetch a very high price in the open market and I always try to reserve one unique recording for the annual grand auction of New Florence.

My sensory algorithms are purpose-designed for customizability and quality. In recent years they have become slightly well-known and are selling quite modestly in addition to the usual recordings of rare void beasts or strange astral phenomena which fetch a much higher price. Oh dear, I’m still procrastinating. Better get to it already.

“Veronica?” I call out to my Eidolon in my consciousness. There is no answer.

“Veronicaa?” Still no answer. I swear if she’s sleeping on the job again I’ll scrub her personality matrix with electrowire, no matter how illegal it is!

“VERONICA!”

“Hmmnh? Whaaat?” A lazy female voice finally answers in a sleepy, barely audible voice.

“I knew it! You were sleeping.” I really must find an effective way to discipline this lazy Eidolon of mine. “Get your ass out here and prepare the probes. We have work to do.”

“Hmm? We’re finally there?” She replies in a questioning voice.

“Yes, we’re here! Haven’t you been paying any attention? You’re an Eidolon for heavens’ sake. You’re supposed to be aware of everything at all times.”

“Alright, alright, give me a second to prep the probes. I was just having such a lovely dream. I was free of you in a world filled with chocolate and…”

“Less blather, more scanning!” I bark slightly too harshly in response to her silly babble. She focuses her attention to me with a surprised expression. Her expression in my mind quickly morphs into a look of injury and sadness; the appearance of a hurt little puppy. I can feel her lower lip tremble as she looks down in sadness. It’s an act she is well-versed in, yet I cannot help but feel bad every time she does this, even when it happens inside cyberspace.

“Sorry.” I apologize in a low voice. “Let’s just get started, shall we?”

“Alright… meanie,” she mutters just loud enough for me to hear.

Exactly one second later six nondescripts balls of metal illuminated by a weak greenish light materialize next to me along with a female figure. She is wearing a black leather jacket, red top with bare midriff, and thigh boots according to some ancient fashion standard that truly escapes me. She has long voluminous flame-red hair that extends almost down to her waist, bright fiery orange eyes, and soft features without a hint of excess fat or any kind of imperfections. Her body can only be described as voluptuous yet slender and her face as flawless.

Physical perfection.

She is my Eidolon, Veronica, and she and I have been almost inseparable for the past eighty years. Eidolons are virtual beings, born of sophisticated artificial intelligence matrices and given consciousness through unique integration with the conscious and subconscious mind of their designated Starchild. A Starchild is to an Eidolon what a tree is to its leaves: the tree bears the leaves which continue on to grow into their own life form while constantly supporting the host tree.

Since Eidolons are virtual beings they can freely determine and alter the form of their vessel should they choose to manifest one for themselves. There is no necessary reason for them to manifest a human body or any other kind of body in the first place. In fact, many Eidolons simply exist as information most of the time – software, if you will, bound to their Starchild in almost every way imaginable.

There are at least as many Eidolons as there are Starchilds and a great many of them choose to exist much of the time as physical entities built of holomatter. Holomatter is a type of artificial matter that is less sturdy than normal matter due to the weaker energy content of the atomic bonds. It is also quite unstable in the long term. The advantage of holomatter is that it is infinitely malleable and easy bind, shape, and separate according to one’s wishes. This makes it ideal for tasks like rapidly constituting relatively simple structures, such as an artificial body.

I’ve heard that an Eidolon’s consciousness and personality template are partially formed from the experiences, emotions, and basic temperament of the Starchild they are meant for. The process of creating the matrix of an Eidolon is purposefully kept secret so I’m not well versed on this subject and am not privy to the details. It is also unimaginably complex and challenging to create a fully functional Eidolon. However, I refuse to believe that this lazy, mischievous, and selfish Eidolon is born from my personality in any way!

“Did you remember to set the lower string frequencies on the probes correctly this time?”

“Yes, boss. I did. You can check them yourself if you want.” Veronica replies indifferently and stretches her body as if she had just woken up from a good nap. She really was sleeping after all.

She is a virtual being with a temporary physical body constituted from holomatter yet she still behaves as if she is a flesh and blood being. This behavior never ceases to surprise me. It’s also one of the great mysteries of Eidolons: despite their virtual existence and artificial origins they still qualify as fully independent individuals with rights and privileges that are equal to any Starchild. In fact, these equal rights are enshrined in the highest laws.

Veronica is the type who prefers to exist in the humanoid form over all other states of being. I always wonder if that has anything to do with the fact that she chooses to exist as a flamboyant busty redhead with orange eyes? She has always had a serious attention seeking side to her besides her usual playful and energetic demeanor. Perhaps one day I’ll be able to get an honest answer out of her. She also has another form she likes to use but we don’t talk about that… ever.

It’s unfortunate that deconstructing and studying her matrix is not only exceedingly difficult and dangerous but also very, very illegal. Otherwise I could literally read her mind! But… thinking about it seriously, I would never do such a thing to her. In fact, just contemplating about it in jest makes me feel uncomfortable. I guess that means I like her just the way she is and wouldn’t have things any other way.

…she must never know.

“I’ll check,” I say and go about verifying the last details on the probes and my sensor suite. “Looks like everything is a-okay. We can start at any time.”

“Oh!” Veronica jumps up in the void, her long red hair floating around lightly. “Before we start, let me check if there are any comets around.”

“Why?” I cannot help but ask in an exceedingly suspicious voice. She is definitely up to nothing good again. A particularly annoying memory surfaces in my mind of Veronica and the last comet we encountered.

“I just want to see if there are any fun comets…” She quiets down for a moment as she checks the sensors. “There’s one! Lucky me.”

“Alright.” I nod to her. “You’ve found your toy for this week. But remember, no slamming the comet into a moon this time. I am not wasting several days and half my energy reserves in cleaning up your mess again.” I then declare: “Begin the survey.”

“Aye, boss.” My trustworthy aide salutes crisply and starts running the sensors at full power.