Of Sigrun and Skogul



Scene Title Of Sigrun and Skogul
Synopsis Two small satellites take up their places amongst the vast numbers of things circling the Earth. One person is forced to notice.
Date August 15, 2009

Between Heaven and Earth

Some hours ago, two small satellites were launched — theoretically — into orbit. Now, the ground personnel wait with their own form of nail-biting suspense, hopeful tension; counting down the hours, minutes, and finally seconds until contact is expected.

Signal from Skogul, one of the techs reports, to an inaudible but decidedly present collective sigh of relief. Reading satellite telemetry.

Miniature computers reach out in response to commands transmitted from the far-distant ground, query the satellite's own sensor arrays, tap the digital shoulders of their peers above the atmosphere. Sun, Earth, Moon; three spatial bodies to reference. Mechanical angels murmur to one another, sharing information, position, readings.

That isn't quite right.

Initiating three-second burst on Skogul to correct position.

Signal from Sigrun, announces a second technician at her console. Reading telemetry.

A precisely controlled, minuscule amount of propellant is doled out from the satellite's tiny reservoir. The addition of a dose of oxygen and a spark creates fire, focused through a vent to provide direction. The clock ticks. Fire fades, its metered fuel exhausted; Skogul continues to slide through a thin veil of atmosphere, until an even smaller, carefully-timed burst on the opposite side halts its motion.

Sigrun altitude, attitude, and velocity nominal.
Skogul altitude, attitude, and velocity nominal.

The satellites are each in their designated places. The hardest part is behind them.

Establishing data uplinks… now.

Software routines rouse, unfurl like spring blossoms beneath morning sun. Invisible, intangible cybernetic fingers stretch out for information; parameters are queried, data compared. Findings are within the tolerances defined by their core programming; all is well by their limited definitions. The satellites settle into monotonous routine, with no capacity to realize that their existence is either. Endlessly patient, they wait.

Staten Island: Coast

The communications are not unexpected; the impending launch has been in the news for days, more so in some countries than others. It's hard for Wireless to miss these things. The chatter is ignored, as is the vast majority of global digital communication: not worth the effort of her regard.

But something nags. Something in the background, both familiar and unfamiliar; the digital analogue of a silhouette glimpsed in peripheral vision, a whisper at the very threshold of hearing. Ultimately, it annoys her to the point of paying attention.

The Israeli woman pulls her motorcycle over to the side of the road, sliding the helmet from her head. She shoves sweat-dampened hair back out of her face and lifts narrowed gaze towards the sky, though it isn't with sight that Hana Gitelman seeks the distant source of those electronic whispers.

She listens. Teases out patterns; compares them to ones she knows.

Different. Familiar. Dark eyes widen as realization sets in. Only one word applies.


Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License