#15 of 100: A Smile That Could Launch A Thousand Ships
You are gorgeous. You always have been. You have a smile that could launch a thousand ships, and every day I feel grateful that you chose to work in the exploration team.
You are gorgeous. You always have been. You have a smile that could launch a thousand ships, and every day I feel grateful that you chose to work in the exploration team.
Our days down on B42-A2-3 were long and tiring, but you always kept your spirit up. You gave names to each of the eel-like specimens we had collected, a soppy side of you that I am willing to overlook. Whenever we went back to our hub on the plains you danced in a way very reminiscent of those birds, desperate to show their plumage and skills. While working you ran and jumped and climbed weird tree-like organisms despite the health and safety risk, which often made me worry you’d break your name or damage your pretty little face, but somehow you always came out of any dangerous situation intact.
Then we found the ruins. The planetary scans showed some unusual masses, but until we actually approached them we didn’t know what they were. Even then, even faced with oddly-triangular mounds of interwoven iron and vines, we still weren’t sure whether they were designed or merely an anomaly of the planet.
You, of course, were the one to find the hatch. As with all tasks, I stayed back, diligently taking samples of the vines and setting traps for the pulsing toad-like creatures that seemed to be drawn to the place. You and your fellow well-trained scouts went down, one by one, into the darkness.
You were the only one to come back, half-dead, eyes gleaming with sadness and success. I don’t think you even knew my name, but you staggered into my arms and collapsed. Back at the hub the rest of us coaxed some of the story out of you: the rhythmical drumming, the flashes of blue lights, the smell of burnt hair. As you lay in the sick bay I took samples from you daily, uncovering what you had been exposed to - not just the new strands of bacteria in your gut or the high levels of lead in your blood, but also the nanobots that were slowly transforming your body. When your jaw began to glitter and your teeth shone a brilliant blue, I knew we had truly struck gold. B42-A2-3 would be a treasure trove of information. We had made a connection with another species, somewhere out there in the universe, and your body was living, breathing proof.
You are gorgeous. Even more so now. You have a smile that could launch a thousand ships, and every day I feel grateful that you chose to work in the exploration team.
I'm glad I waited until Valentine's Day to read such a romantic story! XD
Did you come up with the structure first or the opening lines? (if you don't mind telling! if you do, don't worry!)
It immediately made me think of how people's definitions of beauty differ. As I programmer, I've heard people say "Now that's a sexy piece of code" before and I'm sure alien tech would drive scientists wild.
I think it works very well. It plays with the concept of Helen of Troy masterfully. Her face might launch a thousand triremes in the same way that a rich oil well might launch a thousand vehicles.