Zemgort

Some time ago, I saw this writing prompt:

They are horrified at how we have been so uncouth and barbaric as to have actually left our home planet. Civilized galaxy members, we are told, stay at home and communicate/trade through [technology of your choosing]. Tell the story of this discovery and our reaction to alien condescension.

The idea of the aliens then needing rescue by the uncivilized exploring types amused me. I had a sketch of an introduction, which follows, and then nothing more came to me. If it’s going to just sit there, it might as well sit out in the open. Who knows, maybe someone will have an idea and run with it.

The prompt was from: https://moreoddsthanends.home.blog/2020/06/17/week-25-of-odd-prompts/

---

Space X got to orbit, even eventually to the moon, and Mars. Some wiseguy started a Space Y… which was quickly renamed to Space Why Not when the jokes started.. and they got to moons of Jupiter. Less silly names followed, and the crawl through the solar system went ever onward, and outward. Sure, Venus was orbited and even ballooned.. and Mercury landed upon, cold side when it was, but the future was outward.

It seemed to take forever to explore the solar system. Then a few forevers more to get to the next one. Various utterly insane, and insanely dangerous, experiments happened along the way. If it wasn’t for all the deaths, it would be funny, like looking at the ancient newsreels of things that someone thought might somehow fly and never quite did. Most were that bad. Too many were even worse. Then the Uphoff drive was invented. Nobody knew why Gibson named it that, but Gibson always corrected anyone calling it the Gibson drive.

And a whole lot of nothing seemed to happen. Oh, sure, lots of systems were explored, a few even colonized or attempts made. Three centuries into that phase of exploration of things, feeling that the Universe was a lonely place and empty for the taking, Michael Wylde got a shock. He found life. Intelligent life. ARROGANT intelligent life. Evidently actually travelling through space was gauche. They were told this, and told off, and that was all. The only good thing was that no shots were fired. No bullets, no beams, no rays. But no useful information either.

“What the Hell is a zemgort?” demanded Mike.

Charlie took a moment and replied, “I guess it’s whatever the ‘Advanced’ species use to communicate. Maybe even teleport some things, but NOT themselves.”

“Like radio? Or Quaradio?”

“Evidently, only without the lightspeed time lag or the tedious setup.”

“And we’re supposed to know this HOW?”

Charlie, exasperated, “Damned if I know. They won’t tell us, and if we’d found it we’d have been using it for our own communications. It’s damned weird we can send things.. even US.. faster than any signal. It’s like the days of horses before the telegraph, only innnn… spaaaaace….”

“Cut it out, Chuck! I know it’s a joke, but it’s centuries old. Let it rest in peace.”

“Alright, Mike, now what, since they don’t seem to care to enlighten us?”

“They aren’t shooting, or anything else, so we.. park as it were and monitor everything . Maybe some signal will tell us something. And, of course, activate every ‘passive’ scanner we’ve got from DC to cosmic ray.”

That was a century ago. Figuring out space takes time. Figuring out civilizations takes patience. Figuring out what the zemgort was took a lot of both. In the end, it was stupid simple and could have been made on earth in the late 1940’s. Wurlitzers were more complicated. But somehow, in the dawning age of antibiotics, atomic power, jet engines, and rockets.. it was missed.

“You’re kidding, right? It’s THAT simple? A child would have made this centuries ago!” was Georgette’s reaction to the Model I.

“I wish I was kidding.” replied Laurie, “I feel like I’ve built nothing more complicated than a toaster, and yet-“

Georgette cut her off, asking, “Pick up anything?”

“That’s the weird thing. The communication is as primative as the machine. It’ll take time to decipher, but I swear it sounds like an alien version of Morse code.”

“You have GOT to be kidding me.”

Laurie sighed, “I wish I was. I’d love to let the linguists at this. We never did figure out how they managed to talk to Micheal back when without having ever met any of our kind before. And it wasn’t from watching ‘I Love Lucy’ either – signals are WAY too diffuse here, even if they went looking and could decipher NSCT or whatever it was.”

That was a decade ago.

“Hey, Gavin, we got something.” yelled Wendy.

“What is it?”

“No idea. It’s short and repeating. I’d guess it’s a distress signal. Kinda like the ancient Morse ‘SOS’.”

“Where’s it coming from?”

“Remthorp system, fourth planet. Not sure beyond that at this distance, Gav.”

“Diana, take us-“

“On it, Gav. Hold on folks, we’re in for a jolt!”

There was indeed a jolt.

“Inertial damping, my ass.” muttered Gavin.

Nobody made the obvious comment regarding Gavin’s substantial rump. Not after…

Wendy adjusted some controls that seemed ancient and out of place on a Up-drive ship.
“That lonely island in the north is the source.”

Gavin looked at the screen, “Damn, that IS lonely for planet-side. Nothing for… a hemisphere? Get the landing gang ready. They get to do some exploring – possibly a rescue. Any idea of the problem? The weather seems dull enough. No storms, not even much in the way of clouds.”

“No idea. Just… the signal. Automated, but seems to not indicate anything besides “We’re Here.”

“I dub it ‘Horton’ – I’ll explain later.”