Children of Test Tubes
The universe is not only queerer than we suppose, but queerer than we can suppose.
Story
We are broadcasting an intercepted transmission of trade negotiations between an Outer Space Collective of CyberCats and representatives of the planet 51 Pegasi b, known locally as Dimidium. The broadcast also includes the Cyber Cat’s March — presumably the Collective’s official march.
Who are they? Cats who went further than anyone: rewrote themselves until space felt like skin and breath, compiled their genes piece by piece, moved their whole idea of "home" out of every gravity well. The Cats' planets are banned for them — so they mine asteroids, sell minerals, keep a poker face and wear the trade rules like a mask. They need none of it. They have energy, metals, the vacuum and time. But planets need a story, and the Collective is polite.
Children of Test Tubes is their march: stop-start heavy, sung by beings who consider a body a codebase and the Milky Way a residence permit. "Next link in the chain" — their words, not ours.
Tale
When the first settlements were founded in the new worlds, not every Cat chose life on cozy planets or eternal wandering in space. Some went further. They changed themselves so much that space itself became their home. Many minds, one Collective. One purpose. They became invisible keepers of planets, orbital cities and asteroid belts. They do not need trade. They have everything: energy, metals, the vacuum, and time. Their otherness stirs fear and caution in the settlers' descendants. So the planets need a legend. That's why the Collective plays commerce, ships minerals, asks for something in return, and follows the rules. Just for fun.
Lyrics
— Hello from Outer Space Collective. We are carrying two million tons of nickel and several thousand tons of iridium, straight from the Asteroid Belt. We’re eager to know what you can offer us in exchange. — Outer Space Collective, this is Planet Control speaking. We’re interested in your metals. We have various goods and resources available for trade. Also, do you have Aluminum, Titanium, and Magnesium for constructing flying cities? We also need a substantial amount of Iron, Chromium, and Nickel for building underwater cities. — Planet Control, this is Outer Space Collective responding: Iron, Aluminum, Titanium, and Magnesium will be available on our next trip. For now, we’re interested in canned seafood for our pets, and we need a protocol for landing our sales representatives. — Outer Space Collective, this is Planet Control. Do you have any electronics available for us? — Planet Control, this is Outer Space Collective responding: No, you know the rules. We do not share our technologies, only minerals. We’re all children of test tubes, our genes compiled piece by piece, We’re all born in cat’s space-stations and our source-code is from database. We have no home, we live in space, and starship is our place We are cyber Cats and our residence is milky-way and universe Cat’s planets are banned for us, but we make "poker face" We’re mining asteroids, we’re mining moon’s surface We have a fleet of freighters and sell minerals to Cats They have only planets, but we have all stars and space Planets are for catus-sapience but we are next link in chain We are cyber-Cats, we live in space and we have super brain We’re looking for new planets and building living place for Cats We are engineers we are good at it, and we are good diplomats — Thank you, Outer Space Collective, we are waiting for your landing party ... Cyber Cats..., with cyber pets..., ha-ha-ha ... — Planet Control, we heard you.
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