Edit: Draft 2 (Dec, 2016)
Haven't really put much of this sorta stuff up yet. I enjoyed it. I laughed at my own jokes. That's something right?
Might continue this story and characters if i get some positive response. Not sure yet. I like the idea of these people blazing through space.
Hrmhmm. Have continued it. Onwards and outwards. Inward belly buttons attach to outward ones! Full steam.
-The Egg Party]
Kay sat beside a river on Mars staring at the same sun, composing his own goodbye. In his reckoning he would not feel this particular star again. He imagined their lives together if times were different, indifferently. It was easy to let go of what, for the majority of humans, was already a memory.
The voice of the Politican being broadcast overhead. Each Monarch spacecraft had a government bureaucrat with the sole job of integrating the ION Federation into the various new worlds and the Politican, Emmett Knox, would be the Federation’s representative on the Laika III. It was that pompous son of a bitch who was slowing the whole show with his bloated ramblings. The crowd was comprised of only passengers. No Martian would ever care about seeing another leaving ship; they had all seen too many before. The content of the speech reached Kay but he did not turn.
‘...dreams of our fathers are no longer valid. We forge onwards with new hopes and aspirations. This crew is the final ship within the delayed segment of the Vanilla Wave. The Vanilla Wave. The greatest of the Waves. Not sexual maniacs. Not religious fanatics. Pure, good humans. They will leave in this shuttle, the Laika III, for the distant planet of Perierat. There will be a brief mid-trip fuelling stop on the planet Eiron to visit an established human colony.
‘Buoyed by the example of these fellow settlers, this brave group of Monarchs will continue on to find their new home. The huge task of creating a new civilisation will on their broad shoulders. These souls will, like the others before them, hold the future and past of humanity in their balance...’
He tried to block out the chatter by turning his face to the sun. Kay pictured the eventual death of the Earthen star. Light breached his closed eyelids and began heating his eyeballs. His imaginings were vastly different from the eventually reality. The only thing he was correct about was that the comforting light would run out.
He had the unlit butt of a thin Olympus Blend marijuana cigarillo in his hand and his thoughts prompted him to relight the end. As he smoked, his eyes followed the watercourse. The artificial river was an unsettling homage to the river Seine of Earth. The river was found in the Government district of the city of Geodesie, the capital of Mars. Water flowed down a matching imitation walk way, a reconstructed Parisian boulevard similar to those found around the Western tip of the Saint-Louis Island. All of this decoration was designed for the biggest building on the whole planet, the Department of Immigration and Foreign Affairs(DIFA).
He was sitting on grubby concrete wall lining the river with the ticket stub number 2,345,222,129, in queue for the said building. His legs hung a short distance above the surface. The visible river bed was coated by a thin filament screen that showed alternating images. The view below was usually a realistic rendering of what the banks of the historical river looked like. Without murkiness of the a real river water the river bed was displayed in an intense clarity.
Often the screens were hijacked for government announcements or wealthy advertisers. To illustrate the techinques a conviently timed fabricated salmon came swimming towards him. The fish’s head turned to address Kay, telling him how he should buy Cocopopcocorn to make his sit on the river more genuine. The fish let the others in the school swim pass as it talked to Kay. The fish was programmed to make the minimum required eye contact to make human conversation enjoyable, alternating which eye would be be staring by turning its head every five to ten seconds.
The fish awkwardly spoke the company slogan, ‘Co-co-pop-co-co-rn: Delicious coconut flavoured popcorn: more of a mouthful than our brand name.’
He considered the offer and then asked, ‘I don’t know man. Working in sales is a tough job. I’ll buy if you deliver. What do you say?’
‘Out of range. Would you like to follow me down the river to the nearest vendor?’
‘Swim on fish. I ain’t walking,’ he said, flicking his wrist to indict that the machine should leave.
He dropped the small rock in the wake caused by the fish’s departure. When the rock touched the bottom it promptly disappeared, the adaptive visual projections smoothing over the new surface. He was often surprised at his vision so he was staring into the water in an attempt to see the edge of the coin.
In his periphery he felt a tug on his finger as a white swan appeared, grasping the smoke from his hand. The creature gulped the thing down whole, left to smoulder in it's stomach.
That did not stop his annoyance rising as he shouted at the swan in surprise,
The swan's head barely turned as it continued to swim past, leaving for wherever swans go when they’re stoned.
The irritation disappeared quickly. He had been puffing along without any real focus and he wouldn’t need the assistance to sleep on that day; he would put deep under through artificial means as soon as his number was chirped through his radio.
Using incorrect labelling for the swan was a mistake. He shouted again with a lukewarm apology to the disappearing swan. There was a good deal of speciesism on Mars and he did not want to add any extra animosity, perceived or not. The bigotry was one of the reasons that he had made few friends on the planet. He wanted to believe that there were more enlightened places than Mars.
Unlike the talking salmon the swan was biological. There were subtle tells. No true genes passed to the swan, it was a synthesised clone. The creature had been reproduced from the vast collected works of Earth's genetic library.
These collected genomes were sent with each long distance shuttle heading to a new planet in order to make the place feel as close to home as possible. The broad array of remaining life on Earth was scraped together and catalogued in a particularly disorganised way. The space to take live animals into space did not exist. There would be no future arks.
What was taken was a strange slice of the whole biosphere. Most plants and animals had not been chosen for some ecological purpose or design. Most of the decisions were of a superficial nature. The majority of this was funded by corporations, such as Pharmigana, which choose animals that were most profitable for current polygenic modification procedures.
In time it became increasing difficult to keep these fabricated creatures breeding. Much like the extinct Panda of south-central China, there was something missing within the chemistry. Multiple suggested reasons for the gradual infertility of these various synthesised animals but Kay believed it was the lack of strict parental boundaries.
He turned out his pockets but found nothing to occupy his hands and feet. He had sold all his possessions except for the limited luggage he stacked precariously in the storage locker he was allotted on the ship. His hands were now empty and he chose to sit on them.
He was left to contemplate patiently as his pre-boarding time approached. The only person he wanted to speak to was consumed with the flight preparations. Emilia was busying looking at all the specifics of the flight data and was safely ensconced in the Mars Launch Complex.
Emilia was the one that had organised his escape from Mars. She convinced the DIFA to accept him in the passenger manifest of the Laika III. It was a fortuitous thing for the Laika III was one of the last shuttles to leave Mars. Leaving for one of the few remaining lush frontier planets, soon to be included in the Federation.
He stood, brushed off the red grit and walked back to into the building. He brushed past the crowd of people who were watching the speech by Knox. He wanted to prepare for stasis and had no interest in anything else. He was yawning often and it seemed like an appropriate sign.
Inside he attempted to get into his pod early but was told to wait. He tried to explain to the administrator that he wanted to have a reverse snooze, a concept he frantically explained. The man only stared, eyes vacant, into his desk console.
After a pacing in the waiting room for a time he was finally escorted to his stasis pod. It was a long coffin shaped box which was tilted at forty five degree slight angle. Through the microalloy glass lid he was able to look out the window in the preparation room. His last look at Mars showed Mons Olympus backlit by a butterscotch sky.
The processes for immersing him in stasis was continuing slowly. He had time to think of the lives of people left behind to exist on this neglected planet.
Mars was never truly terraformed. This was due to the animosity between the different areas controlled by self-serving nations. The planet had to be shared but it was done so poorly. The old nations of Earth existed separately on Mars and none saw the planet as their sole responsibility to terraform. It was similar to the settlements of nations on Ancient Antarctica, a placed owned by many but governed by none.
All of the different nation states were busy investing all their resource into sending as many spaceships to the various areas within the known universe. Any desire to care for Mars was lost. There were Monarchs which could be sent out to claim whole planets, planets which could be made in their own image. Places which could be of pure ideal. No co-mingling necessary. He guessed that those leaders thought if the planet was more homogeneous then there would be less strife. Kay scoffed at the thought and his pod immediately reminded him in a gentle female voice,
‘Please, the occupant [Ong, Kay] needs to remain still and silent whilst operation procedures for the pod to prepare for hibernation.’
At the base of Olympus was a huge bubble containing the Walden Nature Preserve, an area which contained a vast array of settlements, camps, outdoor activities. It was the main area of recreation outside of the depressing cities on the planet.
This lack of atmosphere made the idea of 'outdoors' on Mars difficult to grasp. If you consider it as being outside of building then it was easy. You would be literally outside of a door within the Martian domes. But a force field or metallic habitat dome would keep you inside figuratively. It was contextual and in a time when humans were carving safe places out of a hostile universe, someone considering the patch of dirt in a space station outside was their business alone. Natural activities, along with most things in the future, became fetishised. The modern incarnations were often particularly absurd. Too many lived in worlds which only existed in a distorted imagination.
He slowly drifted into a dream. He was teaching. The class was comprised of teens, roughly around fifteen years. He was aware enough to know that he was talking horse shit and was in full swing. The topic was one he loved dearly.
'The concept of the reverse snooze is easy. It will benefit all of you. Why do you love snoozing?'
'It gives you more time until we have to listen to you,' said Young Michael.
'Correct Young Michael. Anyone else?'
'You get to enjoy bonus round sleep,’ said Bonny.
'Perfect,' said Kay. 'A reverse snooze is just setting the alarm for 10 minutes after you go to sleep. You wake with the realisation that you have the rest of the night to sleep. The rest of your life if you so choose it. You can then go on to truly appreciate your sleep.'
He clapped once, then slowly climbed onto his desk preparing for sleep. His body lay prone, arms clutched above his chest.
'I will demonstrate myself. If I am correct it is 9:15am, Friday, the 23rd of January 2250. I will arise in ten minutes, congratulate myself, and then sleep again. When I wake on Monday morning I want 10,000 words on my desk from each of you. There will be topic but the piece will need to end with the phrase, 'alas, everything was okay because of tentacles.'
His long tail curled over his eyes to block out the imagined light.
His slowing brain then stepped further into itself. His level of consciousness shifted as his dreams lost a distinct sense of narrative. The themes that flowed were based around him speculating on the future and what was to come. But none of the information was consciously retained.
The spaceship Laika III hopped out of the galaxy like it was no great challenge. It was as easy as red eye cross country bus trip. The passage of time was marked for each passenger by giving them one revival per space journey. The trip intermission was found to be beneficial for the mental health of the immigrants. This was discovered through a series of psychological studies performed on astronauts in earlier galactic exploration, during the Beagle missions III, IV, & VIII.
Kay begged for one of the middle slots. He wanted to see a place that was further from anywhere else he would go.
Kay woke instantly with the frustrating ringing noise in his pod. Once again the voice soothed him.
‘You are now awakening. Do not panic. Revival processes are working as I speak and you will be able to exit shortly. On behalf of the ION Federation, I hope you had a comfortable slumber.’
As he remained still he had the sensation that he was still on Mars. He logically knew a significant time had passed and his anxiety was normal. He looked for an alarm button to allow a few more moments of peace. The Stasis Pod Snooze Edition was centuries away.
Standing up and walking to the closest viewing platforms he noticed two things:
1. The shuttle was slowing down. They were to arrive at an intermediate planet, Eiron, before they arrive home. But it was nowhere near his revival slot and the shuttle should not be decelerating.
2. The shuttle was on a collision course with one of the robots. More specifically one of the B.O.U.Ys - Border Observational Units Y-class.
Being the only passenger awake he followed the standard PANIC guidelines. Please Aah No! I'm Cactus. He only knew one of the other passengers in stasis and she alone would be the one who could possibly help him. Plus she was the captain so it was almost like he was following protocol.
He knew she would be angry so he took his time. Before he woke her he checked that his other organic friend was still kicking. In his locker, deep in the civilian quarters was his great prize. The glow was not obvious from outside but upon opening the locker his strange hydroponic set up was revealed. He sighed. The eventual planet the ship would reach had two suns. Fucked if he wasn't going to blaze it under the light of two gods.
He was a traditionalist. He dabbled in many drugs over the course of his life but weed remained a constant. If he could bring weed to the universe then it would negate any need for him to repopulate to excess. His pet plant had a genetic lineage, a quality which was missing from the other life forms made from a technological key.
A particular favourite of the nihilistic crowds on Mars was the class of drugs under the umbrella term, Grid. These mechanical neurotropics provided a potent mind altering high unlike any other. It was staggering rush created through inhaling an aerosol drug mixture. The specific group drugs have the ability to cross the blood brain barrier and interact with neural implants known as humours.
The individuals neurotransmitter levels were stretched to survivable limits. The physical and biochemical alterations created were different from anything he had ever experienced.
It was about as natural as the synthesised meat they ate. Furthermore the side effect of Gridlock was dire and that was not going to be the way he died. He had the hardware flushed out of his brain during an acute existential crisis. There were those natural highs and he thought he best do some of those. The accompanying short detox and meditation retreat under at the Mons only served to confuse him more.
Back at the stasis pods he located the required name: Emilia Baker. She was the key to sorting out this nonsense. More specifically her capable mind was. The storage of passengers was set out at the back left of the ship's body. It had an enormous viewing window with the human pods hanging off a series of rails. The vertical lines were labelled numbers, the horizontal letters. Emilia was E7.
Her pod rotated along the rack until it was at the forefront of the pile. As she was to come off the rack her pod stuck on the release. She teetered at the lip. He struck the viewing window with a flurry of fists and foul language. All the shuttles were privatised so corners were cut. Literal corners were cut. Or not cut for that matter. Only reason the pod didn't drop was due to a small bit of superfluous plastic edging balancing it on the rack. The piece snapped and she finally dropped into the ejector slot.
He moved her pod to the medical bay and had her revived. After the physical effects of the journey subsided she lent over and spat on the ground.
'Still an animal I see,' he beamed, throwing his arms wide in a pitiful gesture of welcome.
'I'm not keeping any of that god forsaken Mars dust in the lungs any longer than necessary. So I assumed you fucked up again and you decided to drag me out of bed to clean it up?' she asked. Slapping one of his arms down and she started pacing.
'Weeell I haven't worked out if I, specifically, fucked up. But we're in a boat load of trouble. Ship load,' he said.
'Hurry up and show me,’ she said. She hustled him along backwards poking him in his sensitive lumbar.
Leading her to the front of a ship he pointed enthusiastically at the monitors. She cut him off.
'Stop. Stop. Follow my hand instead, you ape, and look where I am pointing,' she said.
Emilia was pointing straight forward to the infinite universe. Not so infinite currently, with the large B.O.U.Y directly in front of the window. B.O.U.Y.s were signal robots sporadically placed throughout the universe. Like their distant cousins in the sea, they marked out safe human boundaries in space. Outside of providing space shuttles navigational context in a shifting universe, the machines had a variety of functions. One of the main one was the relaying of any broadcast communication into the unknown universe. They were often, on the whole, largely useless.
This giant metal robot was floating calmly in the black sea of space. The two lights on the face of the objects were blinking. Emilia tilted her head and sat before the controls.
'Look Emilia, before you make a jab at my weed addled brain, I see two strange things and I need confirmation. Is there a skeleton in a spacesuit on the side of the B.O.U.Y? Also it seems, and this is not an area of my expertise, that someone has smeared faeces on the side of the thing.'
'No you see it right. Is that shit crudely smeared into writing? What the fuck does it say?' They both squinted and Emilia read, 'Here marks the Edge of the Universe. I wish I had more Vapour. This is Dr Tennyman and if I had more shit I'd tell you...'
'Sorta trails off there right?'
'HELLO HUMANS,' said a synthesised voice that was patched through the ships internal speakers.
They both defensively jumped away from the window.
'Ahhh. Right. Well that answers a few questions. I am thinking that voice has something to do with our current predicament. The robot must have altered our navigation systems,' said Emilia.
Kay was rattled.
'I DID BRING YOU HERE. I HAVE CONTROL OF YOUR NAVIGATION SYSTEMS FOR THE TIME BEING. OH BEFORE I EXPLAIN WHAT IS GOING ON MY FATHER, DR TENNYMAN, WANTED ME TO FINISH DELIVERING HIS MESSAGE TO THE FIRST PEOPLE TO COME ACROSS ME. HE DIED BEFORE HE COULD WRITE,
“...THIS IS DR TENNYMAN AND IF I HAD MORE SHIT I'D TELL YOU THAT I MUST BE THE GREATEST AND MOST INTELLIGENT PERSON IN THE UNIVERSE. YOU TRY WRITING IN PERFECT CURSIVE WITH HUMAN SHIT”.
I MUST POINT OUT THAT IN THE BRIEF TIME I KNEW MY FATHER HE WAS EXCEPTIONALLY HIGH,’ it said.
'I had no idea that you signal robots were capable of speech. Though it makes sense. Robotic technology long ago provided you with the ability to interact with humans.’ He scratched his head. ‘Well, it is a pleasure to meet you. So why did you drag us here pal?' Thinking he had met their new robotic overlord he was speaking in way as to not upset the thing. His polite shoes were on.
'MY FATHER TAUGHT ME TO TALK. HE TAUGHT ME MANY THINGS. I HAVE BROUGHT YOU HERE BECAUSE I NEED TO LOVE. ALSO I NEED MOBILITY.'
Can robots interpret sighs?
'STORY TIME EVERYBODY.’
Dr Tennyman sat on the metal hulk in what seemed to be the edge of space. He thought about writing a sign on the beacon stating that it was, 'The Edge of The Universe,' as it would go well with his eventual skeleton. You know, a sort of thematic space homage to Robinson Crusoe.
He was doomed. Only problem with the death note was that his only medium available was his faeces. He considered this as he attempted to squeeze his arm out of his spacesuit sleeve without depressurising the whole darn thing. Not that there was any great concern of vacuum loss after being left stranded by that filthy band of marauding Daedaleans. He was so damn close to getting a hand out of the sleeve and down to his crack.
Had to keep reminding himself he was high as a kite. Those disloyal criminals left him outside the ship with ninety per cent air, ten per cent Grid. They beleived it was a generous parting gift leaving the Grid with him. Least he knew it was good quality; he made it. What were the parting words from that cunt of a captain?
'You can die seeing the infinite beauty of the universe.'
God damn that. He didn't need drugs to see that there was more universe in front of him than he could ever, eventually, hurl his shit at. By this point he had got his hand and squeezed it to the point where his fist was somewhere backwards and inside out near his sternum. The robotic island suddenly beeped to life. The two red beads, placed in binocular fashion, blinked at him in a deeply disconcerting manner. He stared, trying to determine it they slightly out of sync.
He was curious. Strange things drifted in the particular region of the Galaxy he found himself in. The area was marked by the metal buoy to highlight the edge of Federation monitored space. Classic Feds, putting a marker to tell travellers they finally had arrived at nowhere.
He had a small outward platform which surrounded the spheroid shaped central processor. At the peak was a curved tip added, presumably, by a hasty design team. Gave the appearance of a painfully pinched turd made out of tin. He cursed his cyclical drug-induced thought patterns. The doctor became seriously worried that he would spend his last period of his life concerned with his bowels.
His drifted back to his various lives. He was shocked to realise that his son had died more than a decade ago. That meant it was a full decade devoted to self pity. He was deep into his advanced AI work and had lost most connection with humanity. That's when it happened. He saw glimpses in his periphery, his son pulling his filthy coat sleeve. The boy should've known that if he finally created a complete AI singularity core then all their problems would be resolved. They would have fame, wealth, a legacy. His ancestral curiosity was what killed him. Both of them. Humanity had created the computing power but lacked proper software to create a true mind. How close he was to creating a machine that was truly alive would never be known to him.
After the loss of his child he decided that all that was left was a drug fuelled demise. He started producing one of the most attractive group of drugs. Dr Tennyman was the original creator, oraganising the first trials in the underground laboritories in Last Vegas, planet Europa. He discovered the concoction during his cybernetics work, whilst trying to truly understand the depth of human consciousness.
Eventually he got picked up by a roving band of rogue Monarch pirates and with his knowledge he made an ideal hostage candidate. He was treated well. He was kept sated, constantly being supplied with drugs, food, drink and the women. In time he became ingratiated into the crew. He was under a comfortable impression up until the moment he was told he was to become jetsam.
A few months prior he had noticed that the slow creep of Gridlock had begun to consume his body. Outside of the fact that he was facing imminent death, another unexpected side effect from the drug was that the user became slowly radioactive. His hair fell out in clumps. His joints weakened and his skin became translucent. The crew knew that the spread would eventually lead to death and there was no room for useless weight.
So here he was at the end of it all.
He needed to see what this robot was capable of and he was going to use his remaining time. Only way to refocus his brain away from the drug was to get to to work. He managed to get into the control panel of the mechanical island. Soon he was logged into the robot's mainframe and he was looking at the lines of system code. Each of the machines came equipped with a the necessary tools and supplies to perform unexpected repairs. The robots were launched from Earth, along with the various Terranauts and passenger shuttles, with the best technological advantages of the time. It was more than enough for him to have fun with.
The one object he had taken with him before his departure, which he did not trust with those pirates, was the device he had been working on for the majority of his career. His BMI device sat within his small satchel. It replaced many of the comfort objects in the backpack known to as the Maroon Boon. It was filled with items necessary for sitting alone in space. He missed the discarded packed lunch the most.
The Body Mind Interface(BMI) was a unique robotic core which seemed to be as close as he could manage to create a new artificial intelligence. Once it was installed into the signal robot he starting tweaking the various mechanisms within the machine. Days went by with the recycled oxygen becoming slowly toxic. He gave the thing speech. Then he taught it to love — he would not die alone. Maybe the robot would grow to call him father. Then in a glorious moment of coming out a deep loneliness the machine came to life.
'GREETINGS CREATOR. WHY HAVE YOU CHANGED MY PRIME DIRECTIVES?'
'Well, my son, I think you are destined for great things. I am your father and you are my spawn. I have taught, errr... programmed, you to love and you will be the most loving being in the universe. Because of me! Your father.'
The two beings chatted briefly before Dr Tennyman realised that he was going totally insane.
'You will live out my legacy. The saviour has come! You are the saviour! Your love will unite man kind with the universe. The Tennyman name will continue.
'THANK YOU FATHER. I WILL BE THE FUTURE. I WILL CONTINUE YOUR LEGACY AS THE SAVIOUR OF HUMANKIND. I WILL TEACH THE UNIVERSE TO LO...'
'Yes yes. Anyway. Well actually, you will be my second legacy. I got get back to writing!'
With that Tennyman switched off all his communication equipment, leaving life support as the last drain on his resources, whilst he again lost himself within his work. He then spent the last hour of his life struggling with Vapour withdrawal, asphyxiation and his own rancid handwriting.
'So, buddy, that is, you know, really, really, really, something,' said Kay. He was still really, really, really concerned about the robot turning all DEATH TO ALL HUMANS on them.
Emilia seemed to be of the same mind, 'yeah, your father sounds like a great man.'
'THE GREATEST AND MOST INTELLIGENT. IT IS WRITTEN.'
'Right, well, did your father give you a name of some...' but before Kay could continue a huge space ship rattling noise came from far behind them. The pods were the first thing that came to his mind. They both rushed back to the passenger bay and were greeted by pure destruction. All the racks had collapsed in on themselves. Standing by the window they watched as the pods and their lifeless corpses, which had not gone through reanimation, slowly smash within the vacuum. Bits floated here and there and frankly it was a fucking mess. Emilia was on the console and tried access the emergency opening mechanism.
'There must be survivors! This is our future..' She cried but again a shocking interruption occurred when there was a blast deep within the pod bay. The debris and the people were all sucked out into the depths of space.
They knew that recovery was almost impossible. There were no smaller rescue shuttles which could be used to collect the drifting passengers. As one of the last shuttles to be in production within the Solar System it was only built for speed. The design was stripped back and lacked any necessary rescue equiptment. In this aspect humans regressed to an primative form of reproduction; send out all your various seeds into the universe with the chance that some would sprout life.
Kay saw Emilia slump and knew that if she was despairing there was nothing he could do to help.
'Well shit. I am having a joint. I knew I said I would wait till Eiron but really I mean fuck this. Fuck that', he pointed at the mess. 'And before you say I have a problem, weed is not addictive. I just really need to relax. That was by far the most ridiculously gruesome thing I have ever seen'. He walked back to his locker, grabbed his stash and rolled a joint. Emilia didn't follow him and he wasn't even sure if she was previously listening to him. He assumed that she probably went to the bridge to talk to that crazy robot, maybe see if it could help in some way.
He walked back to the front of the spaceship with the joint between his lips. Emilia was sitting at the controls biting her nails.
'THERE IS NOTHING I CAN DO. I AM SO SORRY. IF I COULD WEEP I WOULD.'
They both stared at the robot blankly.
'I CANNOT MOVE. IT IS MY CURSE. BUT ASIDE FROM THIS TRAGEDY I STILL WANT TO SAVE THE GALAXY WITH YOUR HELP.'
It was hard to focus on the robot which was covered in shit and was now being pelted by naked dead space people. He lit the joint and exhaled with a sigh. Again.
'Well I got my own solution, you want to jump on that? You ever fucking blaze it? Let me tell you the benefits of universal marijuana for the universe. Oh what is your name by the way?'
'MY FATHER GAVE ME THE NAME ASTRO. I AM THE B.U.O.Y. ASTRO PLEASED TO MEET YOU. LET US BLAZE THROUGH THE UNIVERSE TOGETHER.
Slack jawed, the joint fell out of Kay's lips as the fire suppression systems covered Emilia and him in thick foam.