At Imperium Listening Station 12 the technician had his legs up upon his console and was catching a brief nap. The faint transmission startled him awake. Without hesitation he ran the transmission through the translator banks and worked frantically to clarify the message. The palm computer with the official contact protocols was quickly tossed to the floor as he tried to clear off his cluttered console. "Boost your signal," the technician hailed. "Can you read me know?" the voice from the other side asked. "Loud and clear!" The Technician said triumphantly. "I can't believe I speaking to someone outside our Galaxy," The alien voice marveled. "I feel the same," the human technician responded. "It's only been a couple of decades that our culture has been experimenting with subetheric communications through Calabi-Yau space. I hope that translated alright." "Yes it did. The six quantum spatial dimensions. I understand," the alien responded, confirming the successful translation. "My culture has only been using it for a short period too." "Our government has told us that the wormhole networks we are forming will replace Hyperspace jumps in only a few millennia. But that's too short for me," the technician explained. "Well its best to wait and be safe before you scrap all of your Hyperdrives," the alien voice cautioned. "That's true. But all my life I have dreamed of traveling outside our Galaxy. It's been nearly twenty years since I took over this post on our Galaxy's rim. I am the only one here, so I have had all these years to pursue my dream. I have developed a program to download my entire mind and soul into the mainframe. From there I can transmit all who I am through the wormholes." "That's far beyond our sciences. What would happen once you reached our Galaxy?" "You could upload my essence into your computer," the technician suggested. "I presume you have a body," the alien conjectured. "What would happen to your corporeal presence?" "The process would disintegrate my entire brain," the obsessed human technician callously replied. "But I would be alive in your computer. And I would have fulfilled my goal in life: to travel to a Galaxy beyond my own." "It's a high price to pay for one's dreams," the alien said. "My people would not even consider such a venture." "Neither would mine. But I would," the human said confidently. "Will you upload my mind into your mainframe?" "It would happen automatically," the alien technician explained. "But would our computer have the capacity to contain your entire consciousness?" "If it is about the size of our Imperial Listening Posts' computers, it will," the human replied as he donned a coronet of electrodes. "Did you say Imperial?" The alien asked in a panicked voice. "I'm transmitting now," the technician announced as he entered the final command. Like a puppet whose strings were suddenly cut the human technician's body slumped lifelessly upon the console. "Wait… Can you here me?" "I can here you." "Don't do it…" "I already have. I'm in your computer now," the technician said triumphantly. "Your translation programs must be extremely advanced. My brain has adjusted to your computer as if it you used the same computer language as ours." "That may be because it is the same," the "alien" commented in a sad voice. "You mentioned an 'Imperial Listening Station'?" "Yes. We're the Galactic Empire of the Milky Way. I assume I am now in the Andromeda Galaxy." "I'm so very sorry." "What do you mean?" "This is Intergalactic Listening Station 6 from the Galactic Empire of the …Milky Way."
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