“Those alien flowers are growing everywhere now, polluting the atmosphere with mind bending spores.”
Sitting in the chair in his office, with a blank look she confessed their son was from another galaxy.
Thousands of workers dug around the base of the artifact. They’d almost gotten to the bottom when the order came to bury it again.
In the alien prison camp every emotional weakness was exploited to the delight of the homeworld.
It was an autonomous alien manifestation designed to introduce existential doubt. The station continued to break down.
The deafening sound they’d used as a scanner would be turned down for now, but in exchange the ship must surrender its women for inspection.
It was looking for somewhere warm, and it found a comfortable little corner in the back thrusters.
The nets moved around the sun, getting closer over thousands of years until it was caught to be repackaged and resold.
The last ship lifted off, unsteadily, amid the cross fire between mammals, arthropods, then suddenly, the scyphozoans.
Several deep, straight channels were dug into the landscape. The sergeant proposed it was left over from an enormous alien machine.
“Technology is forbidden to us,” he said, “all we know are the ways of flesh. And ZOLKAR. We know of ZOLKAR.”
“… underside was fluid, composed of trembling nodules, I found small pieces of the probe there, being dissolved in a viscous coating…”
The Outer Ring was an amazing variety of flora and fauna, the Inner Ring held prisoners and spent fuel rods.
Their language was a questionable series of groans and spitting. His teacher had lived with them for years and now wore the cowl.
The interior of the building was ornate, confusing, nauseating. They complimented the Progenitor.