The Long Rain - Season 2, Episode 3

Transcript:

[Clacking of keys, wind and rain battering the sides of the sub]

Winifred Eurus: Dr. Eurus, personal notes. It’s been raining. For three days. Three miserable, horrible days. Also it’s just so damp in here. Water is condensing on the walls of the sub and it’s just . . . gross.

I was climbing back up as the first wet drops started to hit. I enjoyed it at first, but then I thought about airborne microbes and sulfur dioxide from volcanoes and started walking a bit faster. My ankle is still sore and it’s difficult to go full speed, but I made do.

And I’ve just been sitting in this sub, waiting it out. My choices for shelter are limited. Luckily I’ve gotten used to the weirdness of it, built a kind of parachute nest where the bunks used to be that’s almost a real bed. Not a lot else to talk about, reception has been terrible, but hey. It’s better than being stuck in that shell with a giant slug monster. Uh, sorry Bob, if you’re listening to this somehow.

By the time I got back up here the wind was blowing pretty hard and it hasn’t stopped since. Almost knocks me over if I try to go outside. It’s monsoon season, I guess. On top of that I’m expecting the tidal wave any minute now.

One thing I’ve done, now that I have some specimen containers and preparation tools, is put the section of nervous tissue from the surfer into some formaldehyde. Can’t do anything with it but hold onto it posterity. I mean, come on, Stevens. What could I possibly do with it here? My microscope is completely gone, washed out to sea. It’s the most I can do just to preserve it.

The rest of the surfer I sort of just . . . scooped . . . out, then I left the shell in the rain within reach of the door. The precipitation here is a little acidic, which I thought might help loosen the leftover bits. A few hours later I checked on it and the shell was just a writhing mass of multicolored worms and other creatures. I shut the hatch tightly and left them to it, and within a day it was completely clean, all of the worms gone again, disappeared into the hazy rainy twilight.

In the brief time it’s been there, the rain-filled shell has accumulated more organisms - thin translucent larva shaped like little hooks, and a greenish mold adhering to the side, spreading through the grooves like grout. Also there is a tiny scarlet crab, with five evenly spaced limbs, that’s taken to sitting next the puddle within. I’ve observed it bringing tidbits of things to the pool and tossing them in, seemingly feeding the larva. Either those are it’s larva, or this is a case of misapplied parenting instincts. I’m starting to think the latter since the larvae are almost larger than the crab now and have a very different, sort of triangular cross section and no carapace. There are birds on Earth that will feed goldfish in ponds just because their urge to put food into gaping mouths overrides the obviously ridiculous nature of the situation. So, this solitary mini crab, whom I have named Jess, might know something about this situation that I don’t. But honestly I’m not the most confident in the intelligence of crabs.

Huh, I wonder what my “friends” - I trust those air quotes were audible - the monster crabs, are up to. Hopefully they’re having a horrible day. Or at least as bad as mine.

[Sigh] God damn it. I used to love the rain.

I did have to go down the rocks to get more supplies. It was slippery and treacherous. The rain is acidic of course - but not as much as I was afraid it would be. Probably less damaging to your skin and hair than the average swimming pool. I just put the hat on, that I made out of parachute fabric, and went for it, trying to keep the rain out of my eyes and mouth - more because of bacteria than any chemical concerns.

[Sigh] After nearly falling, again, I dug up my stash and grabbed as much as I could carry. On the way back I took the time to set up a rope to make the climbing easier. Should have done that sooner, but hey, I don’t always think ahead, do I?

I grabbed, let’s see . . . ugh, a few cherry in there . . . oh, some chocolate chip and a decent amount of peanut butter, nice. I’ll put those away for later if I want a reward. This one just says “Salmonberry Surprise”. Is it - is it salmon and berries? [Groan]

I’ve also taken the opportunity to start distilling and storing extra water in spare sample containers and plastic bags. I guess I’ve become a bit of a hoarder. Never know what could happen though.

Never thought I would become my grandmother though.

[Footsteps, keyboard keys clacking]

Bob probably can’t hear me, but I can hear him - that’s the other thing I’ve been doing. Well, see the soundwaves he’s making, at least. The sensors I placed are working well, unlike everything else here. With the setup I have I can roughly estimate the region - specific down to a couple of shells - from which certain vibrations emanate. The epicenter, if you will.

[Begrudgingly] I had a little help - I mean, I delegated some of the waveform information to Montague. So yeah, I’m taking it all with a grain of salt. Robert did the work of extricating the overlapping signals from the jumbled mess of information, and as far as I could tell he didn’t screw anything up too badly - yet. On the way back to the Solar System I’ll have plenty of time to double-check everything.

The resulting picture of their communication is a bit ambiguous, all told. I think the snailiens have been in a sort of dormant state during the low tide period, analogous to sleep. There’s a synchronous rhythm coming from all of them, emanating and overlapping, oscillating gently at about four hertz, like delta or theta waves. I don’t know exactly how this is maintained mechanically and physically. More complex signals are still being passed back and forth, though, at irregular intervals. An individual will signal the start of a message with a single high-amplitude “spindle” followed by an extremely complex series of vibrations that must somehow encode information. Soon after, one or more others will respond with a spindle and their own incomprehensible message.

The question is, is this signaling back and forth in any way close to what we would consider language? Imagine an alien trying to determine if the individual cells of your brain have a society based on their interpretation of the impulses passing between a few of them - not only would it be impossible to get any sort of usable information, it’s completely beside the point of human intelligence and human society. Even if there is intelligence and society here, is what I’m measuring the important part, or just a byproduct of it?

There’s one signal that never gets a response. It always comes from Bob, and he - ah. I’ve been thinking, maybe I shouldn’t refer to them as a he. This isn’t because I’m trying to dehumanize and distance myself, but rather the opposite. Assigning genders to animals is cute, while assigning genders to intelligent beings that might not have them is just . . . weird.

They, Bob that is, will send out a very distinctive beat-beat, beat-beat sort of rhythm. There usually isn’t an opening spindle with it, though sometimes there is. They’ll do it a couple times then stop. After a much longer pause than normal, others start to all talk at once, signals overlapping and turning into a complete mess where you can’t tell what’s going where. At least, I can’t with my puny human brain. Montague of course had no chance from the get-go.

I’m going to keep mulling that over as I wait for Melissa to get back to me with a weather report. The Stribog still has the capabilities to track the storms moving across Fons and they’ve been updating me occasionally. Unfortunately, it’s been mostly the same old same old, but Melissa thought there was a chance I’d be getting a break soon. So, that should be any time now, once they’re able to get a signal through to me. Annnyyy time now . . .

Any time now.

[Click]

Dee Erickson: Hello? Anybody there?

Eurus: Oh, uh - hello? Melissa, is that you, or. . . ?

Erickson: Nope, just Dee, here to bring you the long-awaited weather report. Breaking news: it’s probably raining.

Eurus: Heh, really - Erickson? Why, why you?

Erickson: What do you mean, why? Do you not like talking to me, or something?

Eurus: N-no no no, I just meant that . . .

Erickson: [Feigning offense] Fred, everyone else has gotten to talk to you, and now I finally get the chance and you act like you don’t even want to hear from me? Is that what I mean to you?

Eurus: Dee, it’s not that I don’t like you, I just was expecting someone else. And actually, I don’t even know you all that well, you know? This just, it doesn’t seem like the right time to bond, given my current circumstances.

Erickson: [Heavily sarcastic] Oh, I’m so sorry, have we met before? Well, I’m Dee Erickson, she/they, I work as an assistant astrophysicist on a spaceship called the Stribog - you, you work on that ship too, don’t you?

Eurus [Unamused]: Uh-huh. [Sigh]

Erickson: We’re on a mission to discover new life and poke it until it shoots poison gas at us, and so far, we’ve actually been very successful.

Eurus: [Equally sarcastic] Nice to meet you, finally, Dee.

Erickson: Right back at you. Look, do you want my analysis of the vibration data you’ve sent, or not?

Eurus: Uh, yeah I do, actually. That is why I sent it.

Erickson: Happy to hear it. So, me and Stevens and Dr. Montague have been looking through this stuff for hours and tried to get everything we can from it, and the gist of our findings is: it’s probably complex enough to be language.

Eurus: . . . And? That’s it? Seriously.

Erickson: Uh . . . yup that’s pretty much it.

Eurus: Sorry, I was just hoping you’d have figured out something more than just that.

Erickson: Well what did you expect? Alien soap operas? I haven’t ruled out alien soap operas and radio shows even. Just a little bit more difficult to follow the plot with these ones, you know?

Eurus: You really, you can’t give me anything else here?

Erickson: Okay, let’s see what I can give you, Fred. The waveforms are repetitive, certain features are repeated more than others, there’s a simplest unit of sound similar to a phoneme but it’s length is variable and there’s a number of modifications depending on the situation but we can’t tell yet what those situations are.

Eurus: Okay, that’s something to start with at least.

Erickson [Interrupting her]: Wait wait, here’s some more. Here’s some more for ya. Based on the spatial map we have, the closer individuals are, the more they respond to one another, and the more closely they copy each other. We’ve also noticed vibrations that might be the sounds of other animals moving through and then there’s a sort of spike in activity. Isn’t that so exciting?

Eurus: Uh-huh, yeah. Um alright. That’s . . . thanks for . . . that, Dee, it was . . . um. Well I’m sure it’ll be more useful when we have more data.

Erickson [Sarcasm pivoting to business]: You’re so welcome, Fred. So, while I have you here, um, I noticed you have a few hidden commodities on board.

Eurus: Seriously?

Erickson: And in exchange for a small fee - say, ten percent of the goods - I could ensure they remain in safe hands until you get back aboard.

Eurus: No, Dee, you and everyone else can stay the hell away from my sunflower seeds and just all of my stuff in general, actually. Now can you, can you please go get Melissa? Please?

Erickson: Fine, if that’s how you want to play it. I’ll go get my manager.

[Click]

Melissa Wang: [Tired] Hi, Fred. How are you doing? What’s up, did something happen?

Eurus: I’m . . . good, I guess. Pretty much the same. Why are you sending Erickson to talk to me instead of doing it yourself?

Wang: Well, I was just trying to compile all the weather data we’ve gathered, especially because you’re going to lose sunlight over the next few weeks. We haven’t been able to observe Fons when it’s been in the shadow of Volturnus yet. I have no idea what’s going to happen to the climate . . .

Eurus [Exasperated]: Okay! Then come and tell me that yourself.

Wang: I would have, but weather prediction is a tricky business and I only know so much about it, so I don’t have much to tell you yet. It’s a better use of my time to keep analyzing the data and have Erickson report their data back to you.

Eurus [Annoyed]: A better use of your time?

Wang: [Distracted] Yes, they’re a bit surly, but perfectly capable of conveying the information.

Eurus: . . . I . . .

Wang: Yes?

Eurus: . . . I need to . . . to hear your voice. You know. Just. Sometimes.

Wang: . . . Oh.

Eurus: Yeah, it’s. . . uh . . .

Wang: Fred you could have just said that. I didn’t realize. I’m sorry.

Eurus: No no, it’s fine. No it’s not. But it’s my fault. You can’t read my mind.

Wang: But I could have been paying more attention to my friend. I guess I was focused on helping you this way and forgot you also need emotional support. I’m not the best at picking up on that, sometimes.

Eurus: You and me both.

Wang: I’m glad to hear that you’re aware of it. That’s sort of a big step for you.

Eurus: Hey! . . . Well, okay. You’re not entirely wrong but . . .

Wang: The issue I see is, how do we weigh the importance of using the time we have to talk for social interaction versus mission-critical information? Which one is more important? That’s an actual non-rhetorical question, by the way.

Eurus: Um, I guess, look at Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. Physical well being is more integral than love and acceptance. Knowing when this storm will end is uh, important to my physical health, I guess.

Wang: Say that again and I’ll come down there and box your ears. Maslow was a - a douchebag, okay?

Eurus: [Giggles] Okay.

Wang: What kind of man says a starving person doesn’t need to feel love? It’s ridiculous.

Eurus: Well, regardless, you were trying to help.

Wang: Stop apologizing for being upfront about your needs! I was getting used to it. Much better than trying to guess amid all your obfuscating sarcasm.

Eurus: Alright, alright. That’s why I think you can read my mind. You keep doing things like that.

Wang: [Laughs] The funny part is, you think I’m insightful, but honestly you are just that easy to read, Dr. Eurus.

Eurus: [Laughs] Okay!

Wang: Perhaps that’s why I tolerate you - it makes me look more in touch with my emotions.

Eurus: Oh, that, that’s me. Miss Transparent. [Sigh] I have to admit, I admire how you can sit back and just observe things.

Wang: I don’t know what you mean by that, or even if it’s a compliment or a criticism.

Eurus: You know, I’m - I’m not sure either. Anyway, I was also hoping, if you have enough time with your busy schedule, if you could help me sort out some of the wiring in here.

Wang: And now comes the ask. Of course I can. I take no responsibility if your aliens snarled everything up and you get electrocuted, though. I’ve had enough of listening to people in pain.

Eurus: Alright, alright. Let’s do it.

Wang: Yes, let’s start with running some diagnostics. Who knows how you even got that thing to start in the first place . . .

[Click]

Eurus: Okay, Melissa’s gone now, but I think we managed to sort a little of this mess out. Tide came in and nearly knocked us off the rocks again. But at least power is reconnected to the propeller and air recycling is back online, as well as the systems to filter dissolved oxygen out of seawater. Those were thankfully undamaged. I can create my own sealed environment in here again, once I’ve stored enough air. Better than having the hatch open with rain leaking in all the time.

I did have to go out in the deluge to scrape the shell off of the two working exterior cameras. It’s very difficult. That is hard stuff. I did scratch one of the lenses. But hey, I can see the outside now, a bit.

We found a lot of weird stuff - the snailien tech, if you’d call it that, is integrated into nearly every system, shell and glass and pearl jammed into the crevices between metal and plastic. Some of it is functional, particularly the fiber optics and structural supports. Some of it was sort of recreated superficially, as if they tried to just make something look the same without really understanding what it was for originally. These parts, though they can look like wires and tubing, but they're totally nonfunctional, as I thought from my initial inspection. A few systems, like the bilge, have been removed and replaced with equivalents of a completely alien design.

And yet others are fulfilling functions the Jacqueline never had before. The spiky protrusions can all move independently to interact with things outside. I managed to get most of the hull sensors working as well as the sonar days ago. But I didn’t realize that hooked directly into my console is a sort of tendril that goes into the wall and connects with an outer layer of the shell casing. This layer is sensitive to vibrations, and all of the shell material helps to amplify it. It took some doing, but we were able to combine the inputs with the normal sensors and this new skin to get a much better picture with the side-scanning and multibeam sonar systems developed by Tellus. Now - it’s incredible, almost like Daredevil vision, a little jerky and fuzzy in places, but a great supplement to my remaining cameras.

There’s a few other things we found. A sphere with a warm spot on it which I only discovered by feeling it. If you turn the sphere, the warm spot stays on top. I think it’s supposed to be a gyroscope of some kind. There’s another thing which is almost certainly a compass, and a small box stuck onto the console power supply. That one I broke open, and it contained a weird mechanical object with a needle scratching endlessly intricate, almost fractal-like, designs on the surface of a golf ball-sized glass bead. It’s still doing it, right now. The louder I talk, the deeper the scratches.

[Whispers] I - I think they’re recording me.

[Loudly and fakely] Oh my, what impressive technology my good friend Bob and their compatriots have bestowed upon me. Truly this machine is more functional than it ever would have been, and not a blaspheme against the very idea of mechanical engineering.

[Laughs] That was a joke. If I don’t understand them, they definitely don’t understand me.

Anyway, I’m going to see if I can get the propellers to work.

Hold onto your butts!

[Gradual build of engine starting, propellers beginning to spin slowly and then faster and faster]

Whoa-ho! Alright! That’s what I’m talking about! Let’s see if I can move the spikes enough to get us off this rock.

[Grinding of entire sub shifting from its footing]

Alright! Almost . . . there . . .

[Grinding, then splash of settling into the water]

Got it!

[Propellers churn water]

[Ecstatic] I’m moving, I’m fucking moving! Holy shit, I’m gonna to be chugging around this moon in style.

It’s a shame the extra weight means we probably won’t be able to to bring this thing up with us - it wouldn’t fit in the cradle meant for the submarine. Jacqueline is a true inhabitant of Fons now, and is going to stay here until she sinks or is once again busted into pieces. But I’d love to keep her when I leave, or at least park her somewhere high and dry. Even if she’s a little scarred and messed up.

The viewscreen is functioning, with a slight blur from motion. I’m just going to send a couple sonar clicks in the direction of the snailien colony - there we go, sort of a hello slash goodbye, hopfully it’s not too disruptive.

Well no. Not a goodbye, actually. Not for long. But I do have a little while before the water lowers enough to strand me anywhere. Surfaced, this girl used to be capable of nearly twenty knots. She does have a lot more drag now and sits lower in the water, and I think I’d be lucky to get ten.

Which, honestly, is a hell of a lot faster than walking so . . . Let’s take her for a spin.

Ayla Taylor: Tides was written by Jesse Schuschu and directed by Jesse Schuschu and Ayla Taylor. It was produced by Ayla Taylor with assistance from Renee Sima and edited by Mikayla Elias. Special thanks to Dayna Patel.

This episode features the voices of: Julia Schifini as Winifred Eurus, Phoebe Joy as Dee Erickson, and Emily Wang as Melissa Wang

You can find us online at our website tidespodcast.com and follow us on Tumblr and Twitter at @tidespodcast. If you like our show and would like to help us keep making it, you can support us on Patreon at patreon.com/tidespodcast.

This month we would like to recommend Sidequesting, a lighthearted fantasy audio drama about avoiding the main plot and doing sidequests instead. It follows Rion, an adventurer who’s willing to help anyone out - as long as they’re not being asked to deal with the scary wizard that everyone keeps talking about.

And now . . .

Wang: This is Dr. Melissa Wang, and this is a Space Fact. Stars, while warm, can be quite distant.