Dan Jira
12/20/2016
Shout out to bad editing due to writing at 3 AM, and the existential crisis that helped this idea become a reality.
“Breaker one-nine, anybody on coms?” Jon jerked upright in his chair as the receiver crackled its way through the message. He’d been driving through this empty desert wasteland of northern New Mexico for the past six hours, and the whole time that darned thing was completely silent. He didn’t mind the quiet though, driving this time of night was peaceful to him, barely any traffic, (not that the three other vehicles he saw during the day shifts counted as traffic along this route…) and he could see the stars meet the hills of sand in the distance, which always made him think. Sure, it was hard some nights, being this alone, sometimes it was downright terrifying, but those nights were few and far between.
“Breaker one-nine, I repeat anybody on coms?” the receiver crackled again as Jon reached for the radio. “This is Night Hawk, receiving you loud and clear.” Before he was even able to put his hand back on the steering wheel, the receiver came alive again, however, this time it was a set of numerous rapid tones a multitude of different pitches, each one slightly different than the last, but not resembling a melody or scale. After the tones finished, there was 30 seconds of silence in which Jon wasn’t sure if he should pursue the conversation, or just leave it alone. As he was still deciding, the radio came back to life “Night Hawk, do you have a navigational computer on board?” Slightly perplexed, Jon responded with “Well yeah, the GPS, why?” Even though he had driven this route what felt like a million times, Jon always had the GPS on, the monotone female voice keeping him company through his journeys.
“Hm, strange I can’t seem to locate its signal. Alright, I guess I’ll just have to do it the old-fashioned way. What is your orbit level Night Hawk?”
“My what?”
“Your orbit level.” Said the crackling voice, somewhat annoyed that he was asked to clarify himself.
At this point, Jon had determined that it was some kid playing with an old radio he found at a thrift shop, and he decided to play along, besides, it is not like he had anything better to do. Jon pushed the button on the transmitter and said, “Well, I’m on I-40 just west of Edgewood, so I guess I’m at orbit level 40.”
“Orbit level 40? There are only 5 orbit levels around a planet of this size. If you could stop playing games with me, Night Hawk, that would be…” At this point, a metallic sounding voice, not entirely unlike the voice of Jon’s GPS, but somehow different due to the crackling of the receiver, cut in and said: Captain, it appears that we have entered an uncharted system. Under Federation Regulation five-zero-zero-four-point-six-point-seven-b (5004.6.7b), we are not allowed to make contact with any alien life forms unless they have achieved faster than light propulsion. Would you like me to make the calculations for the jump back to the stargate? There was a moment of silence before the other voice returned to the receiver saying rather sullenly, “Night Hawk, what do you call this system?”
“The solar system?” Jon asked the voice.
“Yes, what do you call it?”
Jon thought for a moment, trying to think of something better to call the solar system than The Solar System, but that’s all he could think of. “We call it the Solar System.”
“How about the Sol System?”
“That works, and the planet is called Earth by the way.”
“Very well, goodbye Night Hawk of the system Sol, and of the planet Earth. Computer, jump.”
And just like the at the usual droning of static from the receiver carried on throughout the night.
≡ ≡ ≡ ≡ ≡ ≡
For years to come, two different stories were told in bars across the Southern United States, and the Milky Way Galaxy, one a story from a trucker named Jon who told a tale of the most elaborate prank by a couple of kids that he’s ever heard over the airwaves of CB radio. And the other a story of how an explorer got his name in the Holomap Index by finding a new star system, and communicating with one of the life forms to find out the name of the planet, and although he doesn’t know it, how the young captain came to christen his ship the Night Hawk.
