For now they were intent on the contest. Their contests were thorough affairs that were always carried out with some fanfare. However, when ones of higher skill, such as Yana, were matching their leanings the atmosphere was absolutely festive.
Both the champions would arrive at the designated arena with a contingent of supporters, who would boisterously cheer their competitor. Winning the contest meant moving up the matrix which brought glory to the champion and honor to the academy. The after contest jeering so severely savaged the loser that it made him wonder what viciousness lurked under all the strict proprietary.
All of them not permitted on the field were crowded against the railing with their faced pressed eagerly into the mesh as if driven by some unstoppable need to be as close to the action as possible. As a result he was to only one on the vast stands of the huge indoor stadium and placed himself on a row high enough to get an unrestricted view without having to strain his eyes.
When Abema finally arrived, everyone was forced to reconsider the assumption of Yana’s certain victory. Abema was several inches taller than Yana and seemed even more custom-built for running.
The first thing he noticed was the palatable surge of anticipation for the impending animalistic justice that had overtaken the crowd. ‘Survival of the fittest’ was their way of life, even though it was never mentioned or discussed and even though they didn’t go quite so far as to literally kill the losers of these contests, losers were considered worthless and it almost seemed more cruel to let them live.
For them, advancing on the matrix was the only way to move ahead in life and was always their central priority. They spent most of their time honing their leaning for these contests. Defeated contestants never got a chance to match their leaning in the matrix again unless they could somehow prove that they were beaten due to reasons other than having the weaker leaning, which seldom happened.
Unable to move up on the matrix the losers were quickly sidelined for life and relegated to assignments no one still mobile in the matrix wanted to do. This meant that whatever station they had achieved up to the point of their defeat was the highest they would ever be and therefore they could only look forward to a life which steadily wound down. What made it harsher was the fact that the contests usually happened at a relatively young ages and they had very long life spans.
He wondered how they did it. Accept their place in the matrix as final, how they could give up their dreams and settle into whatever mundane role was tossed their way. Not that they did it gracefully, all of them got distraught and some losers would go into severe depression and had to be put into rehab for almost half a year, what was alien was the fact they could eventually collect themselves and pretend that nothing happened, and keep up the pretense for the rest of their lives.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Core 1.1
They were right! He wasn’t like them!
Ever since the start, since he first came to Myzagapurama he stood out. He wasn’t special in any way he could think of and he stood out precisely because he was ordinary, because he didn’t have a leaning. No one had ever said anything directly to him. They didn’t deem it proper and they never did anything improper. No one ever had anything but a smile to greet him with but somehow he never felt that they were smiling with their eyes. Somehow it never felt real, he never felt welcome. He wasn’t one of them and would never be.
They tolerated him admirably and even let him into their circles. They hung out with him and never bought up the subject of his leaning but he could easily tell that it weighed heavily on their minds. At first they had joked and prodded him about it and even speculated, in giggling undertones, that his leaning maybe in something he couldn’t discuss in public. Eventually, however, with no response or hint being offered from him the speculation and probing died off and it was replaced by a quiet understanding that he was really different from them.
The academy had politely put him down as a recondite, which meant that his leaning hadn’t surfaced yet. It should have been unbearably embarrassing because they never stayed recondite past even half of his age now. By his age they had all learned to master their leaning and had even matched it against others exhaustively to understand their place in the ranking matrix.
He wasn’t like them! And he didn’t care to be!
Ever since the start, since he first came to Myzagapurama he stood out. He wasn’t special in any way he could think of and he stood out precisely because he was ordinary, because he didn’t have a leaning. No one had ever said anything directly to him. They didn’t deem it proper and they never did anything improper. No one ever had anything but a smile to greet him with but somehow he never felt that they were smiling with their eyes. Somehow it never felt real, he never felt welcome. He wasn’t one of them and would never be.
They tolerated him admirably and even let him into their circles. They hung out with him and never bought up the subject of his leaning but he could easily tell that it weighed heavily on their minds. At first they had joked and prodded him about it and even speculated, in giggling undertones, that his leaning maybe in something he couldn’t discuss in public. Eventually, however, with no response or hint being offered from him the speculation and probing died off and it was replaced by a quiet understanding that he was really different from them.
The academy had politely put him down as a recondite, which meant that his leaning hadn’t surfaced yet. It should have been unbearably embarrassing because they never stayed recondite past even half of his age now. By his age they had all learned to master their leaning and had even matched it against others exhaustively to understand their place in the ranking matrix.
He wasn’t like them! And he didn’t care to be!
Core 1.0
They were right!
Though he had taken it in his stride he always felt alien amongst them. Every so he would feel under the breath whispers and the suspicious looks pointed at his turned back.
They all had a leaning, a special talent groomed in them from before birth. Each one of them was extraordinary at some one thing and they wore it proudly like a batch. They often matched their particular talent against others of the same leaning.
He was here today with them to cheer their track team’s champion sprinter as she took on an exchange sprinter from Skyla. He had no interest in the contest and was here only because he couldn’t come up with a proper excuse in time to avoid being asked to join the cheer squad shuttle. Yana ran like a rocket and it was most unlikely that the poor chap from Skyla, Abema or something, he had vaguely heard the name mentioned, stood any real chance of matching his leaning with her.
Even though they wore their leaning proudly like a batch it was usually hard to guess what their particular abilities were till they demonstrated them. Some of them, especially the ones with a strong physiological leaning were easier to categorize by the way they looked. ‘Yana the rocket’, as she liked to call herself, had a leaning so strong that it could easily be spotted even by a casual observer.
She was tall, standing almost a foot above a majority of the other women in the academy and her height was mostly in her legs. She had shimmering white golden hair with a beautiful and delicate face, slender arms and a bust to waist ratio to die for. Below the waist however she was like a different person, her slender buttocks grew into large muscular thighs which would have embarrassed even a male professional bodybuilder. Her calves looked like cudgels and tapered into sinewy ankles of steel with her broad feet perpetually in sneakers.
Though he had taken it in his stride he always felt alien amongst them. Every so he would feel under the breath whispers and the suspicious looks pointed at his turned back.
They all had a leaning, a special talent groomed in them from before birth. Each one of them was extraordinary at some one thing and they wore it proudly like a batch. They often matched their particular talent against others of the same leaning.
He was here today with them to cheer their track team’s champion sprinter as she took on an exchange sprinter from Skyla. He had no interest in the contest and was here only because he couldn’t come up with a proper excuse in time to avoid being asked to join the cheer squad shuttle. Yana ran like a rocket and it was most unlikely that the poor chap from Skyla, Abema or something, he had vaguely heard the name mentioned, stood any real chance of matching his leaning with her.
Even though they wore their leaning proudly like a batch it was usually hard to guess what their particular abilities were till they demonstrated them. Some of them, especially the ones with a strong physiological leaning were easier to categorize by the way they looked. ‘Yana the rocket’, as she liked to call herself, had a leaning so strong that it could easily be spotted even by a casual observer.
She was tall, standing almost a foot above a majority of the other women in the academy and her height was mostly in her legs. She had shimmering white golden hair with a beautiful and delicate face, slender arms and a bust to waist ratio to die for. Below the waist however she was like a different person, her slender buttocks grew into large muscular thighs which would have embarrassed even a male professional bodybuilder. Her calves looked like cudgels and tapered into sinewy ankles of steel with her broad feet perpetually in sneakers.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Tantra II (Call of the Master)
Year 1329 ‘Kaallipik’ calendar
At first Taarka could not grasp what it was that brought her out of her doze. Nothing seemed to offending the aura around her hut and yet… things, somehow, were not as they should have been. When the cobwebs of sleep finally cleared she realized that it was the birds. Usually at this time so near dusk rude squawking of peacocks would intermittently rent through the incessant tweeting of the sparrows and the mynas and the passing flocks of parrots would add there own chorus to the cacophony. With the absence of the sounds of the birds an ominous silence seemed to have enveloped the jungle today.
Yet, she was not alarmed rather she felt a sense of absolute clam. She felt herself in a holy presence, one that showered her with love and affection. One that somehow felt familiar...
At first Taarka could not grasp what it was that brought her out of her doze. Nothing seemed to offending the aura around her hut and yet… things, somehow, were not as they should have been. When the cobwebs of sleep finally cleared she realized that it was the birds. Usually at this time so near dusk rude squawking of peacocks would intermittently rent through the incessant tweeting of the sparrows and the mynas and the passing flocks of parrots would add there own chorus to the cacophony. With the absence of the sounds of the birds an ominous silence seemed to have enveloped the jungle today.
Yet, she was not alarmed rather she felt a sense of absolute clam. She felt herself in a holy presence, one that showered her with love and affection. One that somehow felt familiar...
Tantra I (Taarka “gift from a Taar tree”)
Year 1278 ‘Kaallipik’ calendar*
She was born with a different name in a Vedasura (Asura healers) settlement close to one of the largest Man cities of that time Aadishail that was ruled by Shailve a cruel and avaricious tyrant. When she was only five years old, she returned one evening having spent the day playing with wolf cubs to find that the advancing army of Shailve on his way to avenge the rejection of his suit for a neighboring state’s princess, had orphaned her ruthlessly ravaging the settlement of the peace loving healers.
‘Young Taarka finds burning debris where her village used to be’
* The Kaallipik, were a tribe of historians that are thought to be the authors of the ancient scriptures excavated in the modern day state of Jharkhand in Northern India. These scriptures are thought to be over 7000 years old by the Archeological survey of India (ASI)
Perhaps comprehending the tragedy that had befallen her and not finding her home and family she wept till hunger drove her back to the cave of her day’s companion to feed.
She spent a year growing up with cubs till one day for no apparent reason they were driven from the cave by the she-wolf.
She was found sleeping in a hollow trunk of a lightning struck ‘Taar’ tree by an Asura named Bhasmasura, a prominent Sadhu(Monk) of that time, and his apprentice Yamasura.
Bhasmasura who had the typical nature of a reclusive monk decided to leave her at the next Asura settlement they encountered.
What he could not have guessed at that time however was the fact that by the time he found another tribe of Vedasuras, he would be too attached to give her up to them. She became to him the family he never had and his star pupil (as, being a healer, a mind that remembered the vaguest recipes was hers genetically)
All this was much to the chagrin of the insanely jealous Yamasura who found himself holding the steadily shrinking end of his masters attention. As the years passed Yamasura found it increasingly difficult to hide the animosity, he felt towards Taarka, from Bhasmasura.
Bhasmasura did not wish to exile his pupil and companion of many decades. Nor did he trust Yamasura to learn to control his jealousy.
Bhasmasura decided that the only course open to him was to secrete Taarka somewhere. For this he chose a secure valley he had earmarked for his retirement from his nomadic way of life. He setup powerful protective wards around the valley that suppressed anger and made all beings docile. He instructed Taarka not to leave the valley till he came to fetch her. Having satisfied himself that she was safe till such time, as he would come back he left the valley to continue his wanderings with Yamasura.
She was born with a different name in a Vedasura (Asura healers) settlement close to one of the largest Man cities of that time Aadishail that was ruled by Shailve a cruel and avaricious tyrant. When she was only five years old, she returned one evening having spent the day playing with wolf cubs to find that the advancing army of Shailve on his way to avenge the rejection of his suit for a neighboring state’s princess, had orphaned her ruthlessly ravaging the settlement of the peace loving healers.
‘Young Taarka finds burning debris where her village used to be’
* The Kaallipik, were a tribe of historians that are thought to be the authors of the ancient scriptures excavated in the modern day state of Jharkhand in Northern India. These scriptures are thought to be over 7000 years old by the Archeological survey of India (ASI)
Perhaps comprehending the tragedy that had befallen her and not finding her home and family she wept till hunger drove her back to the cave of her day’s companion to feed.
She spent a year growing up with cubs till one day for no apparent reason they were driven from the cave by the she-wolf.
She was found sleeping in a hollow trunk of a lightning struck ‘Taar’ tree by an Asura named Bhasmasura, a prominent Sadhu(Monk) of that time, and his apprentice Yamasura.
Bhasmasura who had the typical nature of a reclusive monk decided to leave her at the next Asura settlement they encountered.
What he could not have guessed at that time however was the fact that by the time he found another tribe of Vedasuras, he would be too attached to give her up to them. She became to him the family he never had and his star pupil (as, being a healer, a mind that remembered the vaguest recipes was hers genetically)
All this was much to the chagrin of the insanely jealous Yamasura who found himself holding the steadily shrinking end of his masters attention. As the years passed Yamasura found it increasingly difficult to hide the animosity, he felt towards Taarka, from Bhasmasura.
Bhasmasura did not wish to exile his pupil and companion of many decades. Nor did he trust Yamasura to learn to control his jealousy.
Bhasmasura decided that the only course open to him was to secrete Taarka somewhere. For this he chose a secure valley he had earmarked for his retirement from his nomadic way of life. He setup powerful protective wards around the valley that suppressed anger and made all beings docile. He instructed Taarka not to leave the valley till he came to fetch her. Having satisfied himself that she was safe till such time, as he would come back he left the valley to continue his wanderings with Yamasura.
Tantra (Foreword)
In 5000 BC in the foothills of the Himalayas, Mountain range, in northern India there thrived a species of fierce humanoids called by their Homo sapiens neighbors ‘Asuras’ or the evil giants because of their massive muscled 7½ feet tall frames, dark skins. Though most Asuras were a peace loving, reclusive people, some warlike tribes had a fondness for bone jewelry and pursued of the arcane arts of Tantra (Indian black magic) for which they hunted the humans and earned all the Asuras a fearful reputation.
The Asuras had more or less domination in the vast jungles and plains of prehistoric India. As the men of that time were organized into small city-states that were far apart from each other and the people of these kingdoms hardly ever ventured out of their fortifications unless in large numbers to hunt, gather fruit from the jungle periphery of the city or as armies to wage war with other close by kingdoms. Trade and social interaction was rare, as the kind reception that would be received at the gates of other cities was not known and the routes were also hazardous because of the Asuras and the wild animals.
MALA 1.0
As John veers course sharply to get his speeding Blue Raptor attack helicopter to double back and make another run towards the RED goal he spies in the fringes of his vision cone a Red Gator tank moving in to intercept.
Faced with the certainty of being blown out of the sky in mere seconds and no plausible way of scoring the goal he allows his instincts to take over. His hands trace a frantic pattern on his keyboard as he navigates the maneuver he has practiced countless times before.
He quickly shoots the Ball high into the sky towards the Blue lines across the goal in the area where he thinks the final waypoint of his Stealth cycle’s autopilot would be.
He sets his low flying Raptor in a direct collision course with the Red Gator sets the auto weapons to Phaser banks and teleports to his RU75 Fighter Bomber soaring above.
As the yellow halo of his voluntary teleportation fades he takes the bomber into a dive and lets off a broadside of Rockets at the Gator. As he had predicted the first reaction of the Gator Pilot was to get his energy shields up to fend off and destroy the oncoming Raptor.
The Full broadside of Rockets rain into the unsuspecting and unprepared tank engulfing it into an inferno it couldn’t possibly survive. He allows himself a grin to as he sees the faint pink halo of the emergency teleportation a split second before the cockpit of the gator succumbs knowing the pilot of the ill fated tank had had no idea of what hit him.
Though victorious in his recent skirmish he doesn’t wait to gloat or let down his guard. He quickly pulls his RU75 out of the dive and sets its waypoints avoiding the Red defenses to the Blue lines. He then teleports over to the waiting Stealth cycle collects the ball and scores luxuriously through the unprotected goal.
He then sets a safe path to the Blue lines for his stealth cycle, marks the approximate location of the wreckage of his Raptor and teleports to the nearest Blue base to begin the reclamation of the wreck with a Extractor.
He is certain the Goal must have earned him at least 1500 Points and will get him promoted to Squad leader. He has no enmity with the Red team, in fact being a mercenary, he has to fight for the side he is assigned to, and has often fought for them.
Team assignment, changes for lower ranking players like him when the lines of one color recede too much from the center.
For the uninitiated the Line between the Red and Blue Sectors is generally situated in the center of the vast Battle Arena. Several goals, defense posts, launch bases and way gates densely populate both the Sectors.
Neither of the team is supposed to win the unending tournament as the main objective is to see the performance of individuals rather than that of armies commanded by generals. The balance is maintained by the Game Masters by who allocate more mercenaries to the retreating team to bolster their lines.
The team scoring more goals will eventually advance this happens as the goals, though themselves indestructible by arena weapons, have a set number of hit-points which they lose every time the opposite side scores in them. When their hit-points are reduced to zero the goal is destroyed at its current location and resynthesized at a location deeper within the line while the advancing team’s corresponding goal is shifted forward.
Like ‘John’ all mercenaries must battle for the Color that they are currently assigned to. Though life is easier when you are in the advancing side more opportunities to score exist while fighting for the retreating side. The more adept, ambitious and experienced players volunteer to crossover to the retreating side by putting up their name in the switch side’s list for the next vacancy.
Faced with the certainty of being blown out of the sky in mere seconds and no plausible way of scoring the goal he allows his instincts to take over. His hands trace a frantic pattern on his keyboard as he navigates the maneuver he has practiced countless times before.
He quickly shoots the Ball high into the sky towards the Blue lines across the goal in the area where he thinks the final waypoint of his Stealth cycle’s autopilot would be.
He sets his low flying Raptor in a direct collision course with the Red Gator sets the auto weapons to Phaser banks and teleports to his RU75 Fighter Bomber soaring above.
As the yellow halo of his voluntary teleportation fades he takes the bomber into a dive and lets off a broadside of Rockets at the Gator. As he had predicted the first reaction of the Gator Pilot was to get his energy shields up to fend off and destroy the oncoming Raptor.
The Full broadside of Rockets rain into the unsuspecting and unprepared tank engulfing it into an inferno it couldn’t possibly survive. He allows himself a grin to as he sees the faint pink halo of the emergency teleportation a split second before the cockpit of the gator succumbs knowing the pilot of the ill fated tank had had no idea of what hit him.
Though victorious in his recent skirmish he doesn’t wait to gloat or let down his guard. He quickly pulls his RU75 out of the dive and sets its waypoints avoiding the Red defenses to the Blue lines. He then teleports over to the waiting Stealth cycle collects the ball and scores luxuriously through the unprotected goal.
He then sets a safe path to the Blue lines for his stealth cycle, marks the approximate location of the wreckage of his Raptor and teleports to the nearest Blue base to begin the reclamation of the wreck with a Extractor.
He is certain the Goal must have earned him at least 1500 Points and will get him promoted to Squad leader. He has no enmity with the Red team, in fact being a mercenary, he has to fight for the side he is assigned to, and has often fought for them.
Team assignment, changes for lower ranking players like him when the lines of one color recede too much from the center.
For the uninitiated the Line between the Red and Blue Sectors is generally situated in the center of the vast Battle Arena. Several goals, defense posts, launch bases and way gates densely populate both the Sectors.
Neither of the team is supposed to win the unending tournament as the main objective is to see the performance of individuals rather than that of armies commanded by generals. The balance is maintained by the Game Masters by who allocate more mercenaries to the retreating team to bolster their lines.
The team scoring more goals will eventually advance this happens as the goals, though themselves indestructible by arena weapons, have a set number of hit-points which they lose every time the opposite side scores in them. When their hit-points are reduced to zero the goal is destroyed at its current location and resynthesized at a location deeper within the line while the advancing team’s corresponding goal is shifted forward.
Like ‘John’ all mercenaries must battle for the Color that they are currently assigned to. Though life is easier when you are in the advancing side more opportunities to score exist while fighting for the retreating side. The more adept, ambitious and experienced players volunteer to crossover to the retreating side by putting up their name in the switch side’s list for the next vacancy.
Background (MALA prologue.1.1)
The Awaldhana Star System in the Delta Quadrant of the Techaswanai Galaxy is the heart of the Intergalactic Trading Organization (popularly referred to as eegtorg)
The composition of the Star system is a rarity even in the infinity of the Universe with Three Suns (Two Red Giants and a yellow dwarf), 38 Planets (7 of them bearing intelligent life) and 158 Satellites (two of them having water based ecosystems and one with polar icecaps), A thin inner asteroid belt and a vast outer asteroid belt.
The other true uniqueness about the system is the co-evolution and (even more remarkable) co-existence of 14 distinct species of intelligent life forms. As is predictable, in the earlier stages of evolution, when interplanetary travel had just been discovered and the first few space faring ships had started leaving their home-worlds there was much suspicion and strife in Awaldhana.
What is not so easy to digest, however, is how soon the varied races of this System overcame their differences and formed the eegtorg, the organization that is the very core of the order and peace in the star-system.
Though everybody has a different opinion as to the cause of this harmony in diversity the two that are the favorite and most sited by the denizens of Awaldhana are; Their collective uniqueness in the Vast Universe and their love for Mercenaries All.
With the advent of the Teleportation & Tele-synthesis technology their world was changed greatly. Vehicles are outmoded as a means of short-range travel. Huge teleportation hubs began to manage most long-range travel between the System’s great metropolitan cities.
Tele-synthesis is used for production of almost all items of everyday use. These two technologies besides having changed the course of Awaldhana’s future are also responsible for its most popular Sport “Mercenaries All”.
Gutsy skilled pilots teleport between various battlezone vehicles in an effort to Score goals. Live ammunition is used to defend against as wells as to pass through opposition. Though the teleports are programmed to flick the Pilot out of the dying vehicles to the nearest base, fatalities arising out of faulty or damaged teleporters are not entirely unheard of. Debris from junked vehicles, once reclaimed by the pilot, is quickly recycled in the Tele-synthesis machines to the vehicle of his choice.
The composition of the Star system is a rarity even in the infinity of the Universe with Three Suns (Two Red Giants and a yellow dwarf), 38 Planets (7 of them bearing intelligent life) and 158 Satellites (two of them having water based ecosystems and one with polar icecaps), A thin inner asteroid belt and a vast outer asteroid belt.
The other true uniqueness about the system is the co-evolution and (even more remarkable) co-existence of 14 distinct species of intelligent life forms. As is predictable, in the earlier stages of evolution, when interplanetary travel had just been discovered and the first few space faring ships had started leaving their home-worlds there was much suspicion and strife in Awaldhana.
What is not so easy to digest, however, is how soon the varied races of this System overcame their differences and formed the eegtorg, the organization that is the very core of the order and peace in the star-system.
Though everybody has a different opinion as to the cause of this harmony in diversity the two that are the favorite and most sited by the denizens of Awaldhana are; Their collective uniqueness in the Vast Universe and their love for Mercenaries All.
With the advent of the Teleportation & Tele-synthesis technology their world was changed greatly. Vehicles are outmoded as a means of short-range travel. Huge teleportation hubs began to manage most long-range travel between the System’s great metropolitan cities.
Tele-synthesis is used for production of almost all items of everyday use. These two technologies besides having changed the course of Awaldhana’s future are also responsible for its most popular Sport “Mercenaries All”.
Gutsy skilled pilots teleport between various battlezone vehicles in an effort to Score goals. Live ammunition is used to defend against as wells as to pass through opposition. Though the teleports are programmed to flick the Pilot out of the dying vehicles to the nearest base, fatalities arising out of faulty or damaged teleporters are not entirely unheard of. Debris from junked vehicles, once reclaimed by the pilot, is quickly recycled in the Tele-synthesis machines to the vehicle of his choice.
Beginning (MALA prologue.1.0)
The Denizens of the Awaldhana Star System receive a series of strange transmissions from a distant Galaxy know as the Doodhiya (we call it the Milky Way).
The transmissions received, though in a primitive digital imaging format, are difficult to decipher. The voiceover seems to be in a 2D language, which is purely vertical with no horizontal modulation whatsoever.
The Images are also and incoherent mix of obviously different sequences involving obsolete technologies and aggressive behaviors and do not seem to convey and specific meaning. After months of working on trying to make sense of the transmissions a team of scientists are able to confidently say that:
“… This is not an attempt at communication, rather some kind of long distance mass-communication stream, on route for redistribution through an orbital, which missed its target (probably during alignment) and somehow survived the long journey across space without much signal loss.”
Convinced that it’s not an attempt contact them, the transmissions are then handed over to Archeologists and Psycho-Historians to study the odd primitive society represented in the transmissions.
Acmov Issasi a prominent psycho-historian deduced from the sequences that:
“The images show an elaborate sport being played on and under the liquid surface, on the solid surface and in various levitated states.”
He went on to say that it was apparently a team sport where the objective was to both defend and attack whenever the chance arose. As he outlined his interpretation of the sequences and his reconstruction of the rules and terms of the sport a mummer of excitement rose even amongst the normally contemptuous scientific community.
Seeing the enthusiasm the High Council (who were observing the proceedings) ordered the computers to create a visual interpretation of his words. What they saw was exhilarating.
They ordered the Sport to be adopted and propagated.
The transmissions received, though in a primitive digital imaging format, are difficult to decipher. The voiceover seems to be in a 2D language, which is purely vertical with no horizontal modulation whatsoever.
The Images are also and incoherent mix of obviously different sequences involving obsolete technologies and aggressive behaviors and do not seem to convey and specific meaning. After months of working on trying to make sense of the transmissions a team of scientists are able to confidently say that:
“… This is not an attempt at communication, rather some kind of long distance mass-communication stream, on route for redistribution through an orbital, which missed its target (probably during alignment) and somehow survived the long journey across space without much signal loss.”
Convinced that it’s not an attempt contact them, the transmissions are then handed over to Archeologists and Psycho-Historians to study the odd primitive society represented in the transmissions.
Acmov Issasi a prominent psycho-historian deduced from the sequences that:
“The images show an elaborate sport being played on and under the liquid surface, on the solid surface and in various levitated states.”
He went on to say that it was apparently a team sport where the objective was to both defend and attack whenever the chance arose. As he outlined his interpretation of the sequences and his reconstruction of the rules and terms of the sport a mummer of excitement rose even amongst the normally contemptuous scientific community.
Seeing the enthusiasm the High Council (who were observing the proceedings) ordered the computers to create a visual interpretation of his words. What they saw was exhilarating.
They ordered the Sport to be adopted and propagated.
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