S1E25 - Hipatia - A Whole in the Center of My Being

There is, unfortunately, no escaping physics bound by the speed of light. Even information must take its time to get birth going. And as we move farther into the Void, that time grows until the distance becomes unspeakable.

Sergeant west and potentially thousands of other listeners. Oh, boy. Knowing that your broadcast is potentially going to be leaked by a pldn relay on the fritz is a slightly more daunting prospect than our usual deep space, cozy pal chats. For one, I'm slightly regretting being quite so open about the whole gross unprofessionalism thing. On a positive side, I have been picking up some strange private messages from a stranded pilot on vacation. I think, like, the terms and language they're using are totally unfamiliar, so it might be someone trying to mess with me or some sort of audio drama, I guess. Do people still do those? Anyway, they sound really fucking hot, though, so I am not complaining. Oops. Parental advisory, I guess. Sorry. It's wild that your audience has changed so much just because of me. I did want to ask, why did you decide to start your show to be aimed at younger audiences? I know it was a way to help cope with the remote posting, but did you fall into the format, or was it a conscious decision? I mean, you're very good at it. You're informative and entertaining, accessible without talking down. You also have a quiet authority that I think kids are naturally drawn to. You feel safe. Which is probably why I was drawn to your broadcasts when I first found them. At least I like to think so, rather than just you appealing to my clearly childlike sensibilities, I wanted to thank you for the story that you told in your last broadcast. Well, the last one I heard, anyway. It was really beautiful, and it made me very grateful for it and worried that the soldier was going to get into trouble on the farmer's behalf. But, yeah, a lot of sincere and unceasing gratitude. You might have picked up that I don't have the rosiest vision of humanity at times, but I can't help but be moved by the many kindnesses that I received from both you and your listeners. Kindnesses sent, I must add, to someone they will in all likelihood, never meet or even see. I hope you all know that I am carrying each and every one with me on my trek out into the Void. Thank you. Before I disappear into yet another rant of self centered bullshit poop. Bull poop again, I have a promise I need to fulfill. Many weeks ago, I promised to share my patented foolproof strategies to avoid going full cuckoo banana pants crazy when you are stuck on your own for long periods of time. My secret? Allow yourself to go a little bit cuckoo banana pants crazy and then use that as a way of distracting you from the essentially empty and fully isolated nature of your existence. Specifically, I mean the Hypatian. Anthro human balloon volleyball challenge cup. Why, you may ask, and this is a perfectly valid question why balloon volleyball? Well, for one, we have all the supplies. They were clearly planning on having a party at some .2. It's a lot easier to teach automated cleaning robots to bat around a balloon rather than an actual volleyball. True, it's taken some time to iron out the kinks. The number of burst balloons at the start and accompanying penalty points was pretty insane. And I fully attribute my team's early exit from the competition to it. Turns out when you're programmed to aggressively suction dirt out of surfaces, you tend to play the ball a little bit hard. It was definitely nothing to do with my performance, though, which was exemplary, and I carried the team pretty much. Still, even as a spectator sport, it's been gripping. And by the final match, the tactics that had evolved were beyond what I would have expected subtle airflow management to guide the balloon into a position where the Polishing bots can deliver a hard yet cushioned spike into the opposing half. That was a sight to see. I'm hoping I'll be able to keep up next season when we start again. Maybe have to make some moves in the transfer market. We'll see. The bots have been a godsend. I must say, I've once since abandoned any hesitation about talking to them and treating them as fully fledged coworkers. I mean, I know they're not sapient, but it certainly feels like they have distinct personalities. And it's not like I've got many other options at this point. I've stopped short of drawing faces on them with a pen, mainly because that's cruel. I mean, who wants a permanent expression that they can never change? Right now, a much better way is the series of masks I've created from some craft supplies. I found the storage locker down on Hdek. Each one has a slightly different expression, and the mates are free to choose a new one every morning to reflect how they're feeling. It's a nice little ritual to start the day lets us know how each of us doing. Of course, we're not all blessed with dozens of automated companions to socialize with. Sometimes we have to reach deep inside of ourselves and connect with the instinctual desire to create writing, drawing, composing simple songs, or the occasional rock opera to help pass the time. Recently, I've come upon the idea of creating an art installation to commemorate the former crew of the ship. From the belongings they've left behind, they would probably have concerns that this is a violation of their privacy. But the way I see it is when they abandoned the ship and along with it, me, their personal artifacts were left at disposal of anyone left behind for the purposes of enduring their current predicament. Two things have inspired me. One, in the cafeteria, there's a large display area. I believe it was intended for, like, notable findings and discoveries that we would have come across during the course of our mission to remind us of our achievements and how far we've come on this long journey. As you would expect, it's pretty empty, so a perfect location for my creation. The second? Well, as crew members, we were allowed to board with two items of luggage. One which was a large locker box, and the other was a kit bag. The boxes were to be stowed in the hold until the ship had passed a shakedown and we were on our way up civilized space. The kit bags were the essentials clothing, toiletries, entertainment, the day to day items that you would stow in your compartment. Turns out there's a certain category of items that 85% of the crew members considered essential. So much so that many had multiple examples. Now, you think I'd want to classify them by size or functionality, and let me tell you, there is a wide variety of abilities on show here, but I'm going by color, sort of ombre effect, shifting from blacks through deep purples and reds, pinks greens, which, along with tentacles, are probably overrepresented. Seeing as this is a ship full of people specifically out here looking for alien life and so on and so forth, until you get the outliers, which consist of a transparent one where you can see all of the inner workings. I'll give you two guesses about who that belonged to, and one I'm almost certain wasn't actually functional, given that it's encrusted with hundreds of tiny sparkling crystals. It's very pretty, though. I'm thinking of hanging it from the ceiling at next month's social mixer. A sort of glitter ball of sorts. Glitter balls. I was going to call the whole thing a bunch of dicks. The crew of the SS Hypatia. Catch. You just got hit with the sudden realization that I may never be touched by a human being again. I mean, you would have thought it was a thought that had crossed my mind before this point. Like I signed up for a long mission in deep space. Like it probably was not on the cards. And to be fair, in my personal life, it hadn't been on the cards for a while beforehand. But when you're around other people, I guess there's always the possibility, and now there isn't, at least not for a good long time. Do you have anyone waiting for you back at home? Now, that's a really personal question to ask. Forget me. Anyway, those are my top strategies for not going completely out of your mind here in deep space. I'd say don't try this at home, but if you're able to replicate any of my dubious achievements, I'd be genuinely impressed. Anyway, I clearly have a hole at the center of my being that I need to fill with a gallon of ice cream and a bad romance novel. So keep the recommendations coming because I have a feeling I'm going to need a lot of them anyway. Thank you, Sergeant. Talk to you soon. You.

Unspeakable. Distance is an actual play. Podcast of Communication delay by audio quinn a link to the game's. Itch dot IO page and credits for our players are available in the show notes linked to this episode. This podcast has been a production of the Library of Cursed Knowledge podcast network.