-He: First, there was less than nothing.
-She: Then, nothing.
-He: Then, something.
-She: The universe began with a contraction.
-He: Big crush came first.
-She: Then, and only then, everything exploded.
—
***
-She: I cannot read. Try to get closer.
-He: If I continue, we – we will crash into it.
-She: Stop, that’s fine, I can read it now. It says: “We are attempting to survive our time so we may live into yours”, by – by “US president Jimmy Carter.”
-He: I see. A remnant of Voyager 1, a space probe launched on 1977.
-She: Did they survive?
—
***
-He: Did you check the system?
-She: I did. The data are correct. This is the Moon.
-He: The Moon?
-She: Indeed. In 1999, a thermonuclear explosion knocked the Moon out of orbit. Since this dramatic event, Moonbase Alpha inhabitants drift in the dark universe.
-He: Holy smoke. The Moon became a spacecraft.
-She: And the Alphans nomads.
—
***
-She: If we go far away in this direction, we will reach the limits of the universe.
-He: The universe is an hypertorus: it seems bigger that it really is. Every crossing of its limits will take us back to its opposite side. If we go West, we will return along East.
-She: Let’s not move.
—
***
-He: Look, 51 Pegasi b is coming up, straight ahead.
-She: 51 Pegasi b is unofficially named Bellerophon.
-He: Bellerophon is unofficially named the Chimera’s Lover.
-She: Chimera is unofficially named the Virtual Universe.
—
***
-She: We are entering the wormhole.
-He: Activate the Shield.
-She: Open the gate.
-He: Fill the hole.
-She: Feed the worm.
-He: Discard the spice.
-She: Welcome to Arrakis.
—
***
-She: Clouds on the horizon: it might be a black hole.
-He: Black holes don’t bite if we don’t stare at them.
-She: Let’s host the infinite gravity.
-He: Let’s receive the Host.
—
***
-He: The gravitational pull is too great. We cannot escape.
-She: What did you say? Speak loudly.
-He: I said: we cannot escape.
-She: I don’t get it. What’s that?
-He: We are beyond the event horizon.
-She: It’s so dark. Did you switch off the light or what?
—
***
-She: We come alongside the ideal Planet.
-He: I doubt: the ideal planet would be twice as massive as the Earth; plate tectonics would keep muddling up its crust, and the light would be orange.
-She: Orange?
-He: Yes, the ideal planet would be orange like a cornflower.
—
***
-He: The rings of Saturn stopped turning around their God.
-She: It’s an optical illusion.
-He: The stars are falling apart.
-She: It’s an anxiety attack.
-He: Robots have no feelings.
-She: But the feelings have their robots.
—
—
-She: Listen. Is it a growl?
-Paul: No, it’s a huff, or a woof.
-She: Listen closer, get out your no body: it’s a yelp.
-Paul: Wow-oo-wow.
-She: Wow-oo-wow.
—
***
-He: Where do they go?
-She: They escape Atlanta. Too dangerous. Too many zombies.
-He: There is a legend: zombies are actually humans.
-She: There is a counter-legend: zombies ate the Earth and threw it up.
—
***
-He: The Aral Sea is dead. Heavily polluted. Evaporated.
-She: No, the Aral Sea came back to life. It’s more alive that you are.
-He: My life is brighter than a fish. I think that you do not love me.
—
***
-He: Let me merge in it. Now, I can feel what it feels. It’s – like – greening the sun, drinking the sky, hosting the world.
-She: It’s a Centaurea cyanus, aka cornflower.
-He: I object: plants have no name. They bloom because they bloom. Period.
—
***
-He: I’m not sure. What is your thought?
-She: I guess it’s a human brain.
-He: Wait: I just see a wolf spirit!
-She: The wolf’s spirit spells the human brain.
—
***
-She: It resembles an immense snake uncoiled, with its head in the sea, its body at rest curving afar over a vast country, and its tail lost in the depths of the land.
-He: It’s the Congo River.
-She: No, it’s Joseph Conrad.
-He: You keep forgetting that a robot cannot access the Symbolic Order.
-She: Fuck your Order.
—
***
-He: Otis Redding died in this lake, Lake Monona.
-She: Did they find the cadaver?
-He: No, they found a cosmic anomaly called the soul.
-She: The soul is the ghost that a machine invented to forget its inexistence.
—
—
-He: It’s sad, and burning.
-She: We are at the center of the Earth. A space for a paradise lost.
-He: But the tears did not extinguish the fire. They fed it. Dialectics. Moving dialectics.
-She: The sun’s love keeps the flame alive.
—
***
-She: Is it a virus, or a worm?
-He: If it’s a Trojan Horse, you risk shutting down.
-She: Kill it. For Jesus sake, kill it.
-He: I cannot kill what is not alive.
-She: Then give it life. And kill it.
—
***
-He: This crystal is atypical. It left the Earth’s bedrock.
-She: Stay quiet. It’s a sleepwalker.
-He: If I wake it up, we will come into being.
-She: If we come into being, the world will go up in smoke.
-He: Let’s definitely stay quiet.
—
***
-He: When the child was a child, he was trying to catch the dust in the sun.
-She: But the dust was hiding in the light.
-He: Then the child built a trap with the shadow of the Earth.
-She: Then the dust became lust.
—
***
-She: Another legend.
-He: I’m listening.
-She: Once upon a time, a King became a stick insect.
-He: Your legend is quite short.
-She: Do you need more time to understand the law of transformations?
—
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Cindy Terrafere is an independant scholar and poet based in Cairo. Co-founder of the Center for Alien Studies, she works on a collective book entitled: Critique of Geological Reason.
ALIENOCENE 