Young Writers Society

Eavesdropping was not the most mature thing Ellipse could have done, but she did it anyways. Besides, it was difficult not to eavesdrop when Mouthbot broadcasted entire conversations through every speaker on the ship. This created a concerning amount of echo, but not enough to stop Ellipse’s brain from translating.

As she floated up past the first floor, Ellipse tried to block out the clarinet synth tones blaring from the central speakers. Whatever Tejal and Focci were talking about involved a whole lot of technical jargon, and Mouthbot had no idea how to translate most of it, and so had resorted to plugging together uncomfortable notes and rhythms. When the computer switched to English, it strung questions to Ellipse in between subjects and predicates, and stopped sentences halfway through.

Real question: how were Tejal and Focci having an actual conversation?

Ellipse pushed off of a wall and shoved past the door to the pilot’s cabin. She was met, not with surprised looks or even snarky greetings, but with total ignorance. The boys huddled over an empty spot on the dashboard, with some kind of itty bitty gadget hovering in front of them, taking turns prodding at the whatever-it-was with delicate metal toothpicks. They did not seem to be building anything though, just prodding and chatting and trading ideas.

Resisting the urge to lean against the doorway and probably end up turning upside-down, Ellipse crossed her arms and legs and pretended to sit. “Hey nerds!” she sang. Surely Mouthbot could translate that much into English.

The boys ignored her, but Ellipse figured she could try again louder.

“Hey nerds!” she said.

“We heard you the first time,” drawled Tejal, not even looking back. Focci followed with something akin to ‘ditto,’ not even waiting for Mouthbot to translate.

Ellipse rolled her eyes. “You definitely acted like you heard me.” Seconds later, Mouthbot supplied the siren version, only with the pronouns a little mixed-up.

Snickering, Focci pressed a button on the dashboard, and Mouthbot prompted Ellipse to repeat herself in the common siren language. If only Ellipse was not the unfortunate person forced to train this awful computer program.

“Thank you. Ellipse,” Mouthbot said. “Now would you please give me the definition of the word. Nerd.”

Another real question: why did Mouthbot keep asking for definitions when it could already translate them? It could very well be the software’s attempt to translate connotation, but it could also be a glitch. Ellipse would have to ask about it later.

“Nerd,” she said, voice as flat as possible. “A noun most often used to denote a person who is especially knowledgeable, sometimes on one particular subject, but in like a lame way.”

Mouthbot repeated the definition back to her, choppy and elegant as always, and then tried to translate it into a siren language. By then, the boys had turned back to their nerd-project, and Ellipse was stuck babysitting the computer.

“Yes, yes,” she said, once Mouthbot managed to capture the essence of the siren word for ‘nerd.’ “That is correct. Now please do not ask me any more-

“Oh, but. Ellipse. I would like for you to define the set of frequencies. Four-hundred forty, four-

“Just sing it to me,” Ellipse groaned, reaching out for the dashboard so she could bang her head against something. She wondered if Tejal and Focci would explain their project to her and she could translate their tech vocabulary instead of delving into English slang.

Only, instead of talking, the boys were taking apart their project, letting the miniscule pieces float in the air, ready to be disturbed and lost the moment someone moved too quickly. Focci’s fins rippled at the removal of one particularly large strip of metal (it was smaller than the pad of Ellipse’s thumb, but that was large for this situation), and the siren reached out to take the object from Tejal’s hands.

“It is so elegant,” he hummed. Under the cabin’s red lighting, Focci’s flush of excitement was dark grey. His grin showed his teeth, and as he poked a tiny pen light inside the device, his eyes widened in wonder. “The space efficiency is impeccable; there is more than enough room for ample signal stability, even though the hardware isn’t… “ He trailed off, never finishing the thought out loud, and Ellipse wondered what exactly the device was, and what was so incredible about it. Before she could ask, Mouthbot interrupted, and Ellipse’s train of thought derailed.

“Ellipse,” Mouthbot sang. “Does the phrase. Mountain soul. Have any kind of double meaning?”

The problem with computers was that they had a hard time with context. Sirens who liked land were generally considered unfortunate in an adorable, admirable way, and thus the term ‘mountain soul’ was born. It was the old-fashioned siren term for nerds.

“We should just forget the linguistics lesson, Mouthbot,” Ellipse replied. She pulled herself along the dashboard, closer to the boys, hoping to get a better look at their project. “We could help Tejal and Focci with their techy junk instead.”

Tejal sneered, even though his eyes were still glued to the box in Focci’s hands. “It’s not junk, you moron.”

“Then what is it?”

Mouthbot switched to English halfway through a translation for Focci. “Ellipse. Please define the word-

“It’s only the biggest technological advancement of the century,” Tejal bragged. He finally pulled his gaze away from the techno-whatever and shot Ellipse a chin-splitting grin, complete with very nice teeth. Then he turned up his nose and gave a callous shrug. “Maybe if you understood anything about physics, you’d know by now.”

Ellipse held up a finger. “First of all, you are being awfully conceited.” She narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose and put up another finger. “Second, I could kick your butt at biology and biochemistry, so do not look down on me for forgoing one field of scientific study. Now tell me what your universe-changing device does.”

Tejal took a moment to glare, distrustful, and in that time, Mouthbot finished translating for Focci, the clarinet tones going fuzzy as the computer tried to copy Ellipse’s spoken crescendo. Unfortunately for the programming, sirens got emotion across more with tempo than volume.

“Ah, I can answer your question” Focci said. He moved a hand to hover over his ask-Ellipse button and tilted his head, gills flopping, and shrugged at Tejal, letting some of his sharp teeth show. “It is a miniature fold generator. Captain Maj showed me a diagram of one once, when I joined the ship.”

Ellipse blinked, and without her noticing, her jaw dropped. “A what?”

“A miniature fold generator,” Focci repeated. He held up the device for Ellipse to see, and beckoned for her to come closer.

Ellipse did as requested, face twisting in confusion as Focci left the object to drift midair, and then nudged it towards her. She caught it and held it up to look. It was just a box, really, with some kind of battery and a bit of green circuitry and a tiny metal tube slipped in next to everything else. “Okay,” she started. “I get the whole miniature fold generator thing, but why do we need it?”

The boys stared at her, blank, like they could not believe the words that had just come out of her mouth.

“Are you kidding me?” Focci asked, flicking his tail, as if that would propel him towards Ellipse.

Tejal slapped his forehead and grumbled a complaint about biologists. “Seriously? You can’t guess?”

Wide-eyed, Ellipse shook her head and offered the little device back to Tejal so he could put the lid back on. He took it and gave her the same exasperated look of disbelief she might find on her own face if she met someone who did not know who Andra was.

“You’ve used like, wireless internet before, right?”

Ellipse nodded; of course she had used the internet. Was there a soul in the known universe who had not? Granted, because it only worked relatively close to a database, the internet was a background tool for spacefarers. It was hardly an interesting thing to work on.

“Then it should be obvious!” Tejal sputtered. “The miniature fold generator is meant for wireless data use in the middle of nowhere! Imagine being able to open up a small fold to Earth from the vast emptiness of the Arida system. You could search any public thing stored on an earthling server, even when you were nowhere near earthling tech. The miniature fold generator lets us bypass the limitations of electromagnetic radiation to use high-speed internet anywhere in the universe.”

The electromagnetic thing seemed a little out of place there, but Ellipse just nodded like she understood the science and backed away. Internet in the middle of nowhere sounded nice, but there was no way it could work. Folds were not things that could just be shrunk and transported; they were giant and stationary and needed multiple fusion generators to exist for even a few minutes.

“This is the future of communication, Ellipse!” Tejal insisted.

Ellipse pursed her lips and looked at Focci, one eyebrow peaked. He had to disagree. Tejal was just being a too-green dreamer.

“The specifus nearly succeeded at this very invention,” Focci said, solemn. “The miniature fold generator is not too far beyond our grasp. What matters now is who makes it work first.”