The Kozzok crew realizes Earth has changed more than they realized. They are left with the question, “What do you do when you find an entire planet is enslaved by invisible forces?”
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MISSION STATUS: Observation Only
LOCATION: Observation Deck
The VanaX hung motionless in orbit above the landmass designated “North America,” its sensor arrays cycling through atmospheric layers like fingers combing through silk. Below, the blue-green sphere turned with the an oblivious grace it had for eons.
Inside the observation deck, General Krex stood with his hands clasped behind his back, The planet’s surface scrolled across the screens lining VanaX’s metallic walls. A silent, sun-drenched tapestry of blues and greens.
His voice a low rumble, Krex’s eyes never left the scanner feed…
Lork approached, his small form casting a faint, wavering shadow in the bioluminescent glow of the overhead panels. His eyes pulsed with excitement as data streamed across VanaX’s consoles.
Lork’s skin betrayed him, revealing an excitement only felt during a new discovery.
“The weather is perfect, sir. Clarity, temperature, and radiation levels are all ideal for human life. This is a paradise, it should be crawling with humans, but it just isn’t.”
“And the population distribution?”
Nurse Retrex replied before Lork.
Her skin shined with nervous excitement, a brighter blue than she was comfortable revealing .
Lork found himself staring, utterly disarmed. The luminous, excited blue of Retrex’s skin was even more beautiful than the triple sunrise on Xylos. The realization hit him like a static shock… “these are inappropriate thoughts.” He forcefully stabilized his own coloring, his eyes darting around the deck to see who noticed.
Retrex did.
Lork quickly lowered his eyes away from her exposed skin. Before she could scold him, Krex rotated and spoke to her.
“The Scanners show populated structures across the entire scan radius.
Active electrical signatures in domestic dwellings.
Vehicle storage units contain operational transports. But…”
She gestured at the feed.
“No visible subjects outside. Thermal imaging confirms biological heat signatures inside structures, but outdoor activity is at negligible levels. Look at the scanners General, have you ever seen anything like this?”
Krex watched the scanner cycle through hundreds of current live feeds, all the same, empty streets.
“It doesn’t matter which area we scan, the results are the same. Completely empty.” Retrex added nervously.
“Bizarre” The general said to no one.
“No threats have been detected in the area, correct?”
Lork whispered under his breath…
Only Nurse Retrex heard his warning, still heated over Lorks wandering eyes, she ignored him. She still didn’t understand why Krex allowed him onboard, as far as she was concerned, cruisers were no place for moldlings.
Dr. Okrob, hunched over his console, made a sound like grinding crystals, the equivalent of a skeptical grunt. “Run diagnostics on the sensor array. Equipment malfunction is more probable than a mass behavioral anomaly.”
“The diagnostics are clean,” her tone carrying an obvious edge, “I’ve checked them three times, all systems, including the scanners are within normal operating parameters.”
Lork’s eyes flew across the data streams at lightning speed, his skin shimmering with excitement. “General, I’ve cross-referenced the entire database. There is no precedent for this.
Lork continued, “This percentage of the population in self isolation is unheard of throughout the known universes.”
The chromatophores in Krex’s skin shifted to a deep amber, almost red as he tried to absorb what his crew was telling him.
“Not even the Thraxx cluster quarantine zones showed such compliance. With populations who’s confinement is strictly enforced with autonomous weapons systems.”
He leaned closer, watching the scanner cycle through bizarre images of the strange civilization.
His reflection ghosted over the empty streets and shuttered homes on the display below as he realized for the first time that his confusion had shifted his skin to amber.
An exasperated General Krex continued speaking, “Weather this optimal typically draws out even subterranean species. Perhaps a religious observance?” Retrex suggested. “Some species practice collective indoor meditation during…”
“Negative, sir,” Lork interrupted, his console chirping with incoming analysis. “Cross-referenced their calendar systems. No major religious observances today. No weather alerts. No governmental lockdown orders active in this region.” His skin flickered. “They’re just… choosing to stay inside.”
Krex’s eyes twitched, an involuntary response to cognitive dissonance.
“On a day like this? Voluntarily?”
He turned to face his crew.
“There is a variable here we are not accounting for. Something is happening, something standard observation protocols isn’t detecting.”
Slowly pacing back and forth, his shoes clicking against the metallic floor before stopping and forcefully saying.
Okrob’s optical clusters swiveled inward with a soft whir. “Do you suspect behavioral control, sir?”
“I suspect we are witnessing a phenomenon for which we have no classification,”
Krex countered, striding toward the central console.
“Lork! Initiate a deep behavioral scan. Pull all associated data, I want a comparative analysis spanning the last ten of their generations. I’m looking for precedent of mass behavior modification.”
Lork’s fingers were already a blur across the interface. “Accessing the historical database. Filtering for documented instances of coordinated behavioral change.”
As he spoke, the central AI of the Vanax hummed, its pitch deepening under the computational load Lork fed into its core.
“Results incoming,” Lork announced. “Compiling now.”
A silent, scrolling analysis flooded the main display. When it finished, a profound and unfamiliar silence descended upon the observation deck.
The crew stared, the only sound the low hum of the VanaX. Lork felt his excitement wither, his skin bleaching to a sickly grey as the scale of the violation became clear.
“It’s not an anomaly, General,” he said, his voice hushed. “It’s a… a cultural pathogen. A self-replicating weapon designed to create a docile population.”
The General’s expression was grim, his own skin a stony, unmoving grey. “A weapon implies a target and a trigger. Before we put a name to it, we must find its mechanism.”
He turned to Lork, his voice low and intent. “Trace the vector. Find out how it is transmitted to the human mind?”
“Yes, sir. Initializing research. Searching for societal programming techniques and replication methods.”
It was then a Holo-Note flickered to life directly in Lork’s field of vision, urgent glyphs pulsing softly.
HOLO-NOTE: Mind Control Through Subliminal Manipulation.
Humans from the elite class have refined the manipulation of their own species into an art form.
The process began with a system called advertising, where those with the most resources employ behavioral specialists to reprogram all perception and desire.
Teaching humans to crave what they don’t need, such as flavored sugar water, scented hydrocarbons, and call this illusion…
“freedom of choice.”
Their ancestor Edward Bernays proved these methods worked, and someone realized they could mold entire civilizations using the same techniques. Over time, advertising became invisible to them, it was woven so seamlessly into culture that they can no longer perceive the hands controlling their every movement without their knowledge or consent.
In a state of shock and disgust, Nurse Retrex finally broke the silence.
The silence on the deck deepened.
“In all our observations, have we ever encountered a civilization that was required to provide labor for life-sustaining resources?” The disgust in her voice obvious now.
“Only on prison planets,” the General replied, his tone chillingly matter of fact, “I find it difficult to believe it could be implemented on such a scale without force.”
Lork began frantically pulling up sub-menus on resource distribution, economic structures, and social contracts. His eyes scanned the data, his skin flickering with disbelief at each new revelation…
– WATER BILL –
– UTILITY DEBT –
– MONETIZED ACCESS –
He looked up, his voice quiet, no longer scientific, but deeply, fundamentally emotional.
The implication settled over them, the mood on the observation deck, suddenly colder than the endless void outside their ship.
For a long moment the only sound was the low humming of the VanaX’s engine, itself, evidence of a functioning, sane society. It was a stark contrast to the silent, sun-drenched insanity turning below them.
There were no scans to run, no more data to compile.
Today’s analysis was complete.
In less than a century, the dominant species on this planet had been transformed from one where the inhabitants were happy, healthy, and family-focused, with most living off the land, into one with a unique form of captivity. One where the captives fight against those trying to save them, while defending those responsible for their enslavement.
Thinking intently, General Krex stared at the blank space where the HOLO-NOTE had been moments ago.
The question was no longer what they had found, but what, in all the known universes, he was supposed to do with the knowledge that entire civilizations were living in captivity on this planet.
This may not be a battle cruiser, but he was still a General who’d sworn the Prime Oath to defend those unable to defend themselves.
After pacing the deck, he turned to the crew, his skin a dull, resigned shade of gray.
Wasting no time, Lork replied, “Yes sir…Scanners activated.”
END OF ENTRY 003:
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