Episode 15
Travelling Light E015S01 Transcript
H.R. Owen
Hello friends, Hero here. This week's trailer is from Breathing Space, a sci-fi Western anthology where each episode is stand-alone but connects to the others in a shared universe. It is packed with adventure, with stories about vacuum cowboys, space pirates and mutineers, but there's also a really gorgeous sense of community and connection as these small, personal stories come together to reflect the wider world. Stay tuned to the end of the credits to hear more.
[Title music: rhythmic electronic folk.]
H.R. Owen
Travelling Light: Episode Fifteen.
[The music fades out.]
The Traveller
18th Enu 850
To the community at Emerraine who carry the light.
One of the most valuable lessons our faith teaches is that of fallibility. I am pleased and proud to belong to a faith which does not preach certainty, but asks questions.
It has helped me resist the temptation of comfortable, comforting arrogance, and pushed me instead into a place of openness. It has taught me to accept my own ignorance and to take my mistakes not as shameful errors to be hidden and denied, but as opportunities to learn and grow.
This matter has been… rather playing on my mind after the discovery a few days ago of a… rather large mistake... on my part. [clears throat]
After a few more days on Peteimos, we were scheduled for a three-week stint across the black on our way to the planet of Verkaren. On the sixth day of our journey, I was helping Wolph with a few jobs around the ship.
We were working on one of the maintenance hatches in a corridor in the crew quarters when Wolph suddenly stopped what he was doing. I asked him if he was alright, and he cocked his head on one side.
“Not sure,” he said, not turning around. “Not sure I'm seeing…. what I think I'm seeing.”
I peered round his shoulder into the tangle of pipes and relays crammed into the space under the hatch. At first, I saw nothing. And then, I spotted it. And, more to the point, it spotted me.
Three little eyes blinked back at me in squelching asynchronicity.
“Wolph. There is a frog in the maintenance hatch.”
The frog opened its mouth and said, “There is a frog-frog-frog in the maintenance hatch-hatch.”
“Oh, don't like that,” said Wolph.
“Oh, don’t like that,” said the frog. “There is frog in-in-in- oh don't like- there is a frog- Wolph, Wolph.”
Wolph slammed the maintenance hatch shut.
“I do not think that is going to solve the problem,” I started to say, but was interrupted when a new, different frog fell with abrupt finality from the ventilation shaft above. “By the Light!” I swore, jerking back from the creature in surprise.
The frog was unperturbed. It blinked, wiped its face, and turned to hop away down the corridor, talking as it went in an uncanny imitation of my own voice.
“By the-the-the- By the Light!”
Our attention was brought almost immediately back to the ventilation shaft, from which there came the sound of a chorus of voices, as if someone had recorded myself and Wolph, made several copies, thrown the copies into a bag, shook them all up, and then played them all back at the same time.
"By the-the-the-the Light- Light- Wolph, there is- there is a- mainten-en-en-ance- Don't like- Frog."
Wolph said something that my translator device didn't quite catch but which sounded both emphatic and obscene. Above us, twenty or so voices rose in mindless chorus, mixing the strange word immediately into their cheerful racket.
This was too much for Wolph. He stormed off down the corridor, pulling out his hearing aids as he went and shoving them into one of the pockets on his tool harness.
As he rounded the corner, he ran almost full tilt into Hesje coming the other way. Their furry face lit up on seeing us, though not without a heavy undercurrent of anxiety.
“Oh, wonderful, you're both here! I'm afraid-”
Wolph cut them off. “Can't hear you. Took my ears out.”
Hesje considered for a moment, and then, hesitatingly, went on in sign language. "Could you put them back in?"
“Nope!” barked Wolph. “Don't want to! Creepy frogs, robbin' voices – I don't want it!”
Hesje's eyes widened. “Ah! I was coming down to tell you that Aman has run into a rather unusual issue in the flight deck, but I infer you've already encountered-”
There was a sudden crash from the direction of the guest cabins, and Óli came careening out, clutching their dressing gown closed and leaving wet footprints on the tiled floor. “There is something in the wash room!”
“It is alright,” I said, trying to be reassuring. “It is only some frogs.”
“Frogs?!”
And from within the walls around us, a cacophony rose up. “Frogs?! It is only- Wash room! It is al-alright-right.”
Hesje pulled a face. “Well. That is a discouraging development.”
Before Óli could descend into outright hysterics, the ship's tannoy crackled into life. “All crew and passengers, please report to the botanical laboratory immediately. That's all crew and passengers to the botanical laboratory.”
I think by now you can imagine the response from the frogs. I found I rather envied Wolph, who had received the summons in writing through his personal device. He made his way towards the laboratory with an air of unconcerned contentment, peacefully oblivious to the uncanny chorus that surrounded us.
It was a relief to step into the lab and shut the door, blocking out the sound of our own voices echoing back to us in mindless repetition.
“I've sealed the lab as best I can,” Annaliese explained. “I am not having those little buggers getting in here and eating my plants.”
Aman interpreted for Wolph, signing far more fluently than Hesje had. At this, her expression grew even more sardonic than usual.
“We'll see how long that lasts. The 'little buggers' seem to be astonishingly good at getting into places they shouldn't.”
“Shouldn't be in any places,” Wolph grumbled. “Give me the creeps.”
“I was trying to get lunch,” said Tsabec, looking extremely put upon. “One of them fell right out of the culinary machine and into my soup bowl!”
“Ugh! Count yourself lucky!” said Óli, pulling their dressing gown a little tighter around themselves. I gave them a conciliatory pat on the knee.
“The question isn't where they are,” Duytren put in. “It's where they've come from. We've been in the black for a week. They didn't just hop into the airlock.”
“We have to assume that they came aboard while we were still on Peteimos,” said Hesje. “I know… Well, that is. I'm aware that there was some cargo brought into the hold…”
“I've checked,” said Duytren quickly. “It's not that. No sign of them in the lower decks at all.”
I had not thought that shipping and cargo was in the Tola's remit, but there were more pressing matters to consider.
“If they are not in the lower decks, where are they?” I asked. “Apart from 'everywhere.'”
The others shared their varying accounts of where the frogs had been spotted and in what quantities. It seemed most of the intruders were concentrated to the areas around the cabins, spreading out from there to the other parts of the ship, with their numbers growing thinner the further they went from this apparent epicentre.
A horrible, sneaking suspicion began to dawn.
“When you ask if we brought anything aboard,” I said, not quite wanting to meet anybody's gaze. “Well, of course, I had some souvenirs and things…”
“You think you accidentally smuggled a hundred baby frogs aboard in the inside of that drum you nicked?” said Óli, looking doubtful.
“I did not nick it, it was given me. But no, I was thinking of, um. Well. Of the plant Griori gave to me.” I swallowed around a growing lump in my throat. “It is an… aquatic plant.”
“An aquatic plant – complete with native water, is that right?” said Annaliese, putting the pieces together. “And you borrowed a heat lamp from me.”
“For the plant!” I said weakly.
Annaliese was unflinching. “Heat is heat. If their eggs were in the water, and your lamp convinced them it was a warm and balmy spring time-”
“Oh, the plant's name!” I groaned. “It has a proper name but among the locals, it is known as, uh… [sighing] frogs' pillows.”
There was a long and rather chilly silence.
“There is a word in my native language,” said Óli thoughtfully. “I do not know how your translator will render it, but it springs to mind very forcefully.”
I kept my eyes fixed on the ceiling, feeling the blush heating my cheeks and neck and chest and stomach. “What is the word.”
Óli leant in close. “Numpty.”
A quick visit to my cabin confirmed the theory. It was, pardon the pun, hopping with frogs, eyes blinking, mouths working as they mimicked the ship's engine, Aman's tannoy announcement, the sound of the cabin door opening, and my own vocal disappointment at discovering them there.
We are not equipped to scour the ship of all of the frogs that have hatched since they were unwittingly brought aboard. Operator Aman has scheduled an emergency stop at a space station en route to Verkaren to have our uninvited guests removed and re-homed somewhere more suitable.
Most of the crew have been very gracious about the whole ordeal. Óli and Annaliese are having a great deal of fun at my expense, while Aman is obviously, but politely, vexed.
Hesje is being very sweet though, researching the species and reassuring me that I really could not have known they were present in the water before all this, not least because this species has no tadpole stage and must have hatched and hopped off into the ship's pipework almost at the same moment.
Wolph, meanwhile, has not put his hearing aids back in since the frogs' discovery, and is actually quite sanguine about their presence now that he does not have to hear their strange, endless chatter.
[sighing] I can hear them even now, rustling in the vents and whispering snippets of overheard conversation back and forth. In fact, I-I think… I think I can make some it out. It sounds like… Hesje and Duytren?
“Hardly ideal- Worry too much- Unprepared- Customs- Out the cargo bay- Secure? Worry too, worry too.”
Well. That is… curious. I wonder…
No. I should not wonder anything. This is akin to eavesdropping and is no way to treat my companions. I shall plug my ears and take to my bed, before I overhear anything else not meant for me.
I shall write again, I think, from the space station. I have never been aboard one before – obviously, having never left the planet before. It will be a little adventure within an adventure. Until then, send my love to everyone and please, keep this numpty in your prayers.
[The click of a data stick being inserted into a drive that whirs as it reads]
The Traveller
Entry EN85018-7: A description of the ganitai, an amphibious species native to Mokiri
Key words: amphibians; fauna; ganitai; Mokiri; natural world
Notes:
The ganitai is a remarkable species, for several reasons. Originally native to the northern hemisphere of Mokiri, it has since spread through the galaxy, finding a home for itself in places as far flung as Kruz, Peteimos and even distant Esteras.
Part of the reason for their success in traversing the wider galaxy lies in their unusual resilience in diverse environments. The ganitai is able to survive in a wide range of temperatures, air pressure and atmospheric composition.
Under extreme conditions, it can even slow down its metabolic processes to almost nothing, hibernating in a state of near-death until the weather turns or it finds itself under more forgiving circumstances.
In looks, they are not dissimilar to other amphibious species of my knowledge. The Nenthian Horned Toad springs to my mind upon contemplating the ganitai. It is smaller in build, with longer limbs, but it has a similarly triangular body and, more particularly, tiny horns protruding above its three, bulbous eyes.
But neither its adaptability nor its physical appearance are what makes the ganitai so remarkable. Rather, it is in their vocal ability.
The ganitai is an extraordinary mimic, able to reproduce a staggering array of sounds after very limited exposure, from the sounds of machinery and electrical equipment to other animal calls, musical instruments – even people's voices, with clearly distinct words and accents.
This talent for mimicry begins as soon as the ganitai is hatched, as it has no larval stage and so is immediately equipped with a throat, lungs and vocal organs.
As well as the physical ability to create a range of sounds, ganitai are also able to process sound with far more nuance and accuracy than many other animals of their type, distinguishing between different pitches and rhythms with perfect accuracy.
Indeed, it can be very difficult to distinguish between a ganitai mimicking a sound and the sound itself. There are several cultures in the worlds in which ganitai can now be found that tell stories of strange creatures living in the waterways and wetlands, calling out to unsuspecting passers by in the voices of their relatives and friends.
There are several theories as to why the ganitai has developed this ability. They are extremely sociable creatures, tending to live in vast colonies where the ability to mimic one another may help to aid social cohesion.
Alternatively, the ability to mimic other species might be a survival tactic, designed to throw predators off their trail through these false aural breadcrumbs. Or the ability might have its roots in sexual selection. Perhaps individuals with a diverse range of sounds in their repertoire are more likely to attract a mate.
Whatever the reason for this evolutionary flourish, it has attracted a great deal of attention both from scholars and lay people. As the subject of research, the mimicry of ganitai has been used to investigate topics that range from animal communication to definitions of language.
And for the ordinary person, they make a very tempting pet – albeit it a rather noisy one.
[Title music: rhythmic instrumental folk. It plays throughout the closing credits.]
H.R. Owen
Travelling Light was created by H.R. Owen and Matt McDyre, and is a Monstrous Productions podcast. This episode was written and performed by H.R. Owen.
This week’s entry to the archives was based on an idea by H.R. Owen, with accompanying artwork available on our social media accounts.
If you've got an idea for an archive entry, we want to hear it. You can send us anything from a one line prompt to a fully written entry through our website, by email, or on social media. For more information, see the show notes.
This episode includes an audience decision. Vote on whether the Traveller should ask Duytren or Hesje about the cargo by making a donation at ko-fi.com/monstrousproductions.
Supporters will also receive bonus artwork and additional content, and an invitation to the Monstrous Productions Discord server.
This podcast is distributed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. The theme tune is by Vinca.
[Fade to silence. The Breathing Space trailer begins.]
Voice 1: Howdy folks.
[Breathing Space theme tune begins: a banjo accompanying a voice singing]
Singer: I ain't got no home to go to, I ain't got nothing to sell. But my stars will never leave me even when I'm sold to hell.
[Music continues in the background through a series of vignettes]
Voice 2: Outlaws gathered here in the Red Riviera from all corners of the system. I have never in my life seen so many criminals in one place.
Voice 3: OK. Call me Dingo then.
Voice 4: Dingo? How'd you get that one?
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Voice 5: This sort of work isn't exactly above board, so the kind of people who would do it-
Voice 6: Georgie. You worry too much. Everything is going to be absolutely fi- Oh, holy shit.
Voice 7: I have absolute confidence that he will not lead us astray.
Voice 8: What about the other one? He seems… shifty.
Voice 7: Well. Who amongst us is not… shifty?
Voice 9: It doesn't matter whose fault it was. It still happened.
Voice 10: And we got through it. Together.
Voice 9: We did. This time. But maybe not the next and I cannot handle that uncertainty. I'm not good at this, see?
Voice 11: The way I see it, the universe put you here for a reason.
[Music ends]
Voice 12: On behalf of all the Martian government agencies making this happen, I welcome you all here to the Red Riviera.
[crowd cheering, fades to silence]
Voice 1: Breathing Space. A science fiction Western anthology audio drama by Law of Names Media. Available wherever you listen to podcasts or visit breathingspace.lawofnames.com.
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