[ WP ] An aliens perspective as it attempts to decode the golden record

The trouble light blinking? Traveling through such an empty and mundane corridor of a not-particularly dense arm of an otherwise sizable galaxy, 00101001110110110111, son of 110101010010101111010100101010001 discovers a minor blemish has lodged itself within the EM plasma radiative shield. Normally stony masses and large asteroid type object find themselves readily vaporized, but the frequency compensators have experienced a feedback loop from the highly conductive metal in an ordinary geometric shape. Is this some child's idea of a joke? Someone could get hurt, do n't they know. 
 
 00101001110110110111 puts the ship into a drift, magnetically isolates the bridge, and then turns off the shield. The disk jettisons from the purple hazy film, and rockets into the dark. `` This looks like...'' the observation cameras flare up with computational dialogue and map all possible trajectories. The main screen locks onto the disk. `` Yellow metal? Refined and polished?'' He checks the logs and discovers about seven hundred kilograms of various metals have been vaporized, and their ions siphoned for capture being in a crudely refined state. It almost seems like a science fair project has whizzed right into his path despite all odds of improbable collisions. But that beautiful circle, whirling and flinging itself into the sky catches the light just so. He grabs ahold of the toggle stick, and sets the interception algorithms to manual. At this point, two nodules on the top of his head reveal several layers of nictitating membranes, which peel back to reveal an additional set of eyes. They appear not particularly focused on any direction. 
 
 The main screen zooms in, farther and farther. The alien re-engages the plasma shield and sets the engineering bay's computers to analyzing the ion ratios present in the seven hundred kilogram sample. A message is received from engineering: `` schematic interpolated, twenty two kilograms not present''. He continues fixated on the gleaming disk. He engages the active shutter and dialatory-time matrix reducer. The video feed of the whirling, spinning disk is replaced by an image of it head-on. He zooms in, and fires pulses from his visible light laser. Finally, the distortions come through as images, and a series of concentric mechanical scratches. 
 
 `` Computer...'' The ship chimes and hums, a whispering tone of rising and falling chords lulls through the bridge. `` Check archives for this symbol...'' he inputs the Latin text as if it were a series of rudimentary images, E-A-R-T-H. For a moment he considers contacting his parent authority, to designate an archaeological discovery. `` No data.'' His train of thought is interrupted. Nothing in the archive. No way he was going to spoil the fun. `` Computer give me a time based readout of the contents of the mechanically concentric cavity, convert to radioform.'' He gazes at the image of the disk, the picture of the skinny lines. `` Please input initial condition:...'' He sits slightly puzzled. Initial conditions are n't too often required, he just upgraded to the latest set of interpratory scan-hashers. Initial condition... He adjusts the shutter-speed to match the reverse side of the disk, appearing on screen. `` Computer phase the scan, parse into phrases''. Music plays. `` One hundred and sixteen image files downloaded''. They appear all as static. 
 
 One look and he knows exactly the message of the first image, just a hunch. `` Filter Image One, target orientation of data as a circle, save patterning as initial condition.'' Suddenly one hundred sixteen images join the music, light and sound in harmony playing a secret concert for only him. `` Save images, record sounds.'' He turns off the optical scanners, and shuts off the targeting computers. `` Engineering!'' 
 
 The data terminal trickles a message across his console: 
 READY... 
 
 He inputs a command, 
 /date contents of find No. 010101110101110101101 
.... 
.... 
.... 
 RESULT: 4,602,040,204 nested solar-cycles. 
 Planet identity: 
.... 
... > E-A-R-T-H 
.... 
... > Fate: Unknown. 
.... 
... > Submit to Academy for review ( 1/0? ) 
 
 He would have to think about this one. 
 
 
 
 [ by: EXandWHY -001 ]
