The WTF! Signal
PART 1
SETI headquarters. The beacon on the massive radio receiver blinked red in a steady, rhythmic pulse. It hadn’t done so since the Wow! signal back in ‘77. But there was no ambiguity this time. No space debris or local station interference could explain this one. The message was unmistakable. Bypassing all language barriers and hearing impairments, the words resonated clear as day simultaneously in every functioning thalamus on the pale blue dot.
\*YOU HAVE TWO WEEKS.\*
And so began the avalanche.
Among those who didn’t slip immediately into madness, the denials and claims of hoax were quickly silenced. Not a soul had been exempt from the signal. Seven billion people on the planet. They couldn’t be asked to agree on even so much as the Earth being round, but certainly they had all heard \*that.\*
The consensus ended there, however. The explanations that followed were legion. A mind control experiment gone awry, a mass collective hallucination…many called it the word of God.
So it was two weeks then. To achieve what?
Some believed it was to achieve world peace, or perhaps merely inner peace. Others believed it was simply an announcement of the coming end times, and that there was nothing to be done but to enjoy the time remaining. Others still, to ensure there was finally agreement on what god to follow. Whatever the case was, it was clear that humankind’s collective assignment now had a deadline.
The course of history so then began its speed run. The oppressed, with nothing to lose, turned on the powerful. The religious orders, offering no better explanation for the phenomenon than anyone else could muster, splintered into cults of sacrifice and all manner of debauchery and hedonistic orgy. One by one the institutions upholding civilization smoldered, burned and collapsed. And the leaders, desperate to avoid retribution from the other world powers in the midst of their vulnerability, preemptively flailed at each other with all that they could. Diplomacy performed by the kiloton, then by the megaton.
The clouds, briefly illuminated by the great fireballs, slowly grew dark. The wind went unheard for the first time in eons.
The great receiver array remained pointed at the sky. Slowly, the beacon began its blinking red pulse once more. It persisted for a moment, then perhaps for another minute or two, before joining the Earth in final silence.
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PART 2
Intergalactic Library Employee Portal
Username: xbeegles
Password:\*\*\*\*\*\*\*
Welcome, Xanthron Beeglesborg
Open Mail —> Sent Folder
Sent to Tentacles, Xorgnax Q., Blurgsday 5/55/6386
Hello Mr. Tentacles,
It has been brought to our attention that your rental is overdue. Please direct your attention to this matter.
Sincerely,
Xanthron Beeglesborg
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Sent to Tentacles, Xorgnax Q., Bleensday, 5/68/6386
Hello Mr. Tentacles,
Your rental remains overdue. Please return your rental to the Intergalactic Library as soon as possible. Your timely cooperation is appreciated.
Sincerely,
Xanthron Beeglesborg
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Sent to Tentacles, Xorgnax Q., Blarnxday, 6/32/6386
Xorgnax,
Come on, work with me here. I know you did me a favor that one time, but you’re making my job very difficult right now, and I’m sure you’re aware of it. I’m going to have to impose a late fee. Please return your copy of you-know-what ASAP or I’ll have to enact a ban.
Xanthron
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Sent to Tentacles, Xorgnax Q., Bleensday, 6/48/6386
“New Email, who dis?” Really, Xorgnax? Do you even understand how this works? These messages are beamed telepathically to you directly; and I know you understand them because they’re translation independent teletext. I dare say you qualify as a sentient being, so you should have received and perfectly comprehended all of my messages thus far. You have four weeks. I think this is generous, all things considered. Please return it, Xorgnax.
Xanthron
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Sent to Tentacles, Xorgnax Q., SENT TO BROADCAST ALL, Broonsday, 7/2/6386
You have two weeks.
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Personal Outbox of Xanthron Beeglesborg
SENT TO BROADCAST ALL, Bleensday, 10/54/6386
Apologies to all for any confusion caused by my previous message, specifying “you have two weeks,” as it was mistakenly set to teletext broadcast, and thus subject to telepathic reception by all sapient individuals within our galactic sector, and perhaps beyond. I understand some time has passed and I’m sure most of you have forgotten this trivial matter by now; nonetheless, it behooves me to provide some context to my error.
To clarify, the message in question was intended only for a certain individual whose identity shall remain clearly specified, Xorgnax Quincy Tentacles, whose stubborn refusal to return to the Intergalactic Library in timely fashion the videotape entitled “Cloaca Pounders 4: Wet and Wild,” resulted in the chain of communication culminating in the message you all erroneously received. If my message caused distress to any among you, it may provide some consolation to know that I was unceremoniously terminated from my twelve year position at the Intergalactic Library as a result of my error, and that you should thusly not anticipate any further unsolicited messages from the squalid hovel in which I now live.
I thank you for your understanding, and you may consider this matter resolved. If it provides you any additional closure, the Library has kindly informed me that Mr. Tentacles did in fact eventually return his videotape, and that “Cloaca Pounders 4: Wet And Wild” is now available again for public enjoyment.
Sincerely,
Xanthron Beeglesborg