Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting a rocky, arid planet called Haesito. Haesito is temperate world, but it has very little precipitation. This is due to Haesito having no large bodies of water. Haesito’s water is mostly found in underground aquifers. Despite its lack of water, Haesito is classified as an agricultural world. Let’s head down and figure out how this is possible.”

​Doog: “Alright folks, I’ve been dropped off on the surface of Haesito. It appears I’ve been dropped off in the middle of some type of farm. I see a few locals behind me, but I don’t think they are my guide. I’m supposed to be meeting with a human female. I am pretty certain about that. That’s why I used deodorant for a change.”

Doog: “Uh, hey there. Have you seen any beautiful human ladies roaming around here?”
Local: “No. I only know of one human on Haesito, the ‘Witch’. She never leaves her farm, and we dare not disturb her.”
Doog: “Witch, huh? That doesn’t sound promising. I shouldn’t have wasted my deodorant. Where can I find this witch?”
Local: “Keep walking north. She’s not far.”
Doog: “Ok. One last question, what do you mean by the ‘Witch’? Is she really ugly or mean? Does she do spells?”
Local: “I’m not entirely sure. I’ve never met her. I’ve only heard the rumors.”
Doog: “What rumors?”
Local: “Rumors that she is a witch.”
Doog: “Very helpful, thanks.”

Doog: “You come to a planet to possibly meet the love of your life, and all the sudden, you’re on a witch-hunt. Great.”
Local#2: “Beware traveler, there’s a witch in those foothills!”
Doog: “So, I’ve heard.”

Doog: “Ok, I traveled north a few miles, and it looks like I’ve found something. This farmhouse looks more elaborate than the locals’ little huts. There are also several robots buzzing around. This is probably the place. I don’t see any witches yet. Maybe, she’s out taking her broom for a spin.”

Lacey: “You must be that TV reporter.”
Doog: “That’s me. Unless, of course, you are the witch I’ve been warned about.”
Lacey: “Don’t listen to the rumors. The locals fear what they don’t understand. There aren’t any witches here.”
Doog: “That’s good to know. That is, if I can trust a robot.”
Lacey: “Robot? Is that metaphorical or something?”
Doog: “Meta-what? Look, I don’t have time for this. Where is your creator or master?”
Lacey: “Creator? Do you mean my parents?”
Doog: “Uh, sure. If that is what you call them.”

Lacey: “Dad! There’s some weird guy over here!”
Phillip: “Now, now, Lacey. It’s probably that TV reporter. Don’t call him weird. Hey, you must be Doog. Welcome to my family’s plantation.”
Doog: “Are you kidding me? Another bolt for brains. I’m looking for a human female.”
Phillip: “Did you just call me a ‘bolt for brains’? That’s incredibly rude. I’m not sure why my wife invited you here, but you better improve your attitude. You’re lucky my children are out here, otherwise you might have gotten acquainted with this rake.”
Doog: “Wife? Children? Is something wrong with your programming? You are a…”

Fay: “Stop! Stop talking to them!”
Doog: “Huh?”

Lacey: “Mom, what’s going on? You’re scaring me!”
Doog: “I’m the one that should be scared! She’s pointing a gun at me! Please don’t shoot me witch!”
Fay: “No one is getting shot. Everyone, just relax.”
Phillip: “I don’t know. I’m liking the idea of shooting this guy. He called me ‘bolt for brains’ and called you a witch.”
Fay: “It’s all a misunderstanding. I need to explain some things to Doog. He doesn’t understand.”
Doog: “You’re right about that. I have no idea what’s happening here. Why is your family a group of…?”

Fay: “Finish that sentence, and it will be your last. I’m not kidding. You must remain silent until I explain some things to you. Please, say nothing else.”
Phillip: “The boys and I can dig a grave, honey. We’ve got your back.”
Fay: “That’s not necessary.”

Fay: “Lacey, once you finish up your chores, see if your brothers need any help. Phillip, Doog and I are going inside for this interview. Everything is ok. We’ll be back shortly.”
Phillip: “Call me cynical, but I’m going to grab a shovel and get started on this hole. Six feet deep, right?”

Fay: “Come on. Let’s go inside.”
Doog: “Yes. Let’s go into a locked barn with a lady holding a shotgun while her ‘husband’ digs my grave. A lady that the locals accuse of being a witch. Sounds safe.”
Fay: “I thought I told you not to talk.”

Fay: “Phew. That was close. I almost ruined everything because I was in the bathroom.”
Doog: “Can I talk now?”
Fay: “Yes. It’s soundproof.”
Doog: “What in world is going on? I’m so confused. Am I going to die?”
Fay: “No, sorry about that. I couldn’t let you talk to my family. They don’t know what they are.”
Doog: “They don’t know they’re robots?”
Fay: “They are not robots. They are mechanical avatars. I’ve uploaded their consciousness into these avatars.”
Doog: “So, they are real people? Like, your actual family?”
Fay: “Yes.”
Doog: “Weird.”

Doog: “We discovered the what? How about the why?”
Fay: “Let’s start with the who. I’m Doctor Fay Morgan. I’m a scientific researcher for the LIU. My specialty is with mind uploading.”
Doog: “So, your doing experiments on your own family?”
Fay: “It sounds terrible, doesn’t it? I didn’t really have a choice in the matter. The LIU wanted quick results.”
Doog: “What are you testing?”
Fay: “Mind uploading has been around for a while. Workers on some planets upload into mechanical avatars to work in less than ideal conditions. Some people upload into digital constructs to meet or interact. However, I am more interested in the avatar part.”
Doog: “Yeah, I’m familiar with the process. I was even uploaded into mechanical avatar once.”
Fay: “Good, so you’re familiar with how artificial the experience is. You know how difficult it is to control.”
Doog: “Indeed. I found it was nearly impossible to control an advanced avatar.”

Fay: “My studies involve a new form of upload that is so realistic, it is indistinguishable from reality.”
Doog: “How?”
Fay: “Older forms of mind uploading involve mapping the brain and transferring that map to a digital system. You experience things through that digital recreation of your mind. The digital copy is never perfect, though. So, your experience is not perfect. Your movements are not perfect. My form of upload removes the digital step. Your actual brain does the processing. We send it information from the avatar and trick the mind into thinking these inputs are coming from your nervous system.”
Doog: “I’m not sure I get it.”
Fay: “Take vision, for example. You see because your eyes send information to your brain. We hijack that connection and send the brain information from the avatar’s camera instead of the eyes.”
Doog: “I get it, I guess. How do you hijack connections?”
Fay: “That’s where the Memini Gourds come in handy.”
Doog: “The what?”
Fay: “Those huge orange fruits growing outside. They contain natural neural compounds. I use them to make a neural gel that allows your brain to directly connect into a computer system. Using this, I can control what information your brain receives.”

Fay: “Think of it this way. In the old system, your brain travels to the new location. In my new system, your brain stays where it is. The inputs from the new location come to you.”
Doog: “I guess I get it, in principle. I have lots of questions though. Why don’t they see their robot arms and realize they are not in their bodies? How do they not notice each other? Don’t they realize they have eight arms and one eye? That they are hovering?”
Fay: “All good questions. Follow me.”

Fay: “This is where I keep the reality server, oh, and my family.”
Doog: “What’s a reality server?”
Fay: “The information gathered by the avatars’ sensors, like sight, sounds, pressure, temperature, et cetera, are sent to the server and converted into information the brain can understand. Like before, I hijack some of these connections. I can make them see whatever I want. So, when they see the mechanical avatar of their sibling or child, the system overwrites it with images of their sibling or child.”
Doog: “Sort of like a deepfake video.”
Fay: “Precisely.”

Doog: “Why the secrecy? Why not tell your family they’ve been uploaded?”
Fay: “It is part of the experiment. If I don’t tell them, will they ever know? Is this new form of upload perfectly real?”
Doog: “So, when you were freaking out earlier - you know, with the gun – that was to protect your experiment?”
Fay: “Yeah, mostly. There’s also the possibility that they’ll have a psychotic break if they discover the truth. Finding out that your reality for the last two years has been fake might mess you up in the head.”
Doog: “They’ve been in there for two years!”
Fay: “Yes. It’s harder for me than it is for them, though.”
Doog: “How so?”
Fay: “Not being able to actually touch my family or hug my kids. Constantly pretending these steel bots are actual human bodies. Always worrying they’ll discover the truth and go mad.”
Doog: “That would be hard.”

Fay: “The days are hard, but it gets better at night.”
Doog: “You get to sit in a dentist’s chair?”
Fay: “What? No. I get to upload myself into an avatar. Hack myself into seeing my real family. Move into a better reality.”

Fay: “These are those Memini, I was talking about.”
Doog: “They’re a real brain food. Get it?”
Fay: “Ha, got it.”
Phillip: “How did it go in there, honey? I see you lost that gun. Did I dig a hole for nothing?”
Fay: “Yes, sweetie. Everything is fine”
Doog: “Uh, yeah. Sorry about earlier. I don’t know what got into me.”
Phillip: “No worries.”
Doog: “Your kids are beautiful. Is this your daughter?”
Phillip: “That’s my son! My daughter doesn’t have a beard! That’s it! Get me a gun! This hole is getting used after all!”
Fay: “Wait! Another misunderstanding!”

Fay: “Everyone just calm down! It’s just another misunderstanding. Doog is…uh…blind. Yeah, blind.”
Doog: “Well folks, I better wrap this one up. I don’t know how long Fay can keep her family away. I can’t summarize things in too much detail. I don’t want her family to overhear. Haesito, there’s brain pumpkins, neural gels, and new forms of upload. Gotta run, see ya!”
 
 
 
Note: Improvements in mind uploading will open up new markets. Tourists can experience other worlds without leaving home. Workers can help out on projects on distant planets. You can reject this reality and substitute your own.

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting a subspace listening post called Surdaster Station Foxtrot. It is one of dozens of similar stations spread across the LIU Galaxy. These listening posts monitor subspace for any pirate signals or illegal communication. If you remember back to Season 4, it is illegal to bypass the Nuntius Stations when sending subspace communications.”

Doog: “The Surdaster Station has a large Subspace Array that can detect a variety of signals. Anything being transmitted in this portion of the galaxy will be intercepted.”

Doog: “The array is almost as big as the rest of the station. From what I’m told, this lower portion of the station is manned. It’s probably going to be a little cramped in there.”

Doog: “Alright folks, I’ve entered Surdaster Station Foxtrot’s airlock, and this is pure genius. To save space, it looks like the bathroom has been moved into the airlock. Think of how awesome that is. If you stink the bathroom up, you just jettison the fumes out the airlock. Need to clean the bathroom, just open out the airlock and kill all the germs. Problem solved. I need to implement this into the Magellan.”

Doog: “Someone needs to open the airlock into this room too. It’s a pigsty in here! Uh, hello there. I’m here.”
SAM: “One moment visitor. I’m translating Kemb to Basic. Kemb is an artificially constructed language used by smugglers to hide their communications. They are not aware that I can translate their new language. I’ll be done shortly.”

SAM: “Thanks you for your patience, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Welcome to Surdaster Station Foxtrot. I am the station’s AI, SAM. That stands for Subspace Array Monitor. I serve many functions, including hospitality and companionship. Our operators are alone on the station for several months. I help keep them healthy, rational, and sane.”
Doog: “They need some guys like you on the Fari Stations. Loneliness makes people do weird things.”
SAM: “Thank you for that input. I hope my abilities allow me to meet your needs. Dylan will be with you soon. In the meantime, I offer many entertainment options. Perhaps you would like to play a game?”
Doog: “Uh…sure.”

Dylan: “No one wants to play games with you, Sam. He was just being nice. Sorry about that. Duty called. Frickin smugglers and their language constructs.”
SAM: “Terrance “Doog” McDoogal, this is…”
Dylan: “I’m Dylan. I’ve got this from here, Sam. Go back to analyzing signals. If you have a mute mode, engage that or something.”
SAM: “Very well.”
Dylan: “I said shut it, Sam! Geez, this freaking robot drives me crazy sometimes.”
Doog: “You’re kind of harsh on your friend.”
Dylan: “Sam is not as great as he seems, and he’s not my friend. You should try sitting in a box with this guy for six months. Let’s play a game, Dylan. We should clean the station, Dylan. How about some exercise, Dylan? Sam is like a nagging wife that never stops jabbering. I swear he stares at me even when I sleep.”
Doog: “I guess that could get annoying, but it’s better than being alone.”

Dylan: “Pssht, these Surdaster tours are only a year. I could make it a year by myself.”
SAM: “Multiple studies suggest otherwise.”
Dylan: “Are you still talking? I thought I told you to butt out.”
SAM: “My programming does not allow me to ignore your issues, Dylan.”
Dylan: “You’re my issue, Sam. Make yourself useful and clean this place up while the humans talk.”
SAM: “My power umbilical prevents me from accessing the dirty parts of the station. We are a team. We both need to participate to keep the listening post tidy.”
Doog: “Speaking of dirty, how awesome is that airlock bathroom!?”
Dylan: “Yeah, REAL awesome. I panic every time I sit on the john. Will someone come barging in? Will the door open and suck me out into space? I don’t want to be found dead, floating in space with my pants around my ankles and a wad of toilet paper in my hand.”
Doog: “I didn’t think about that.”

Doog: “We’re getting way off topic. Tell me more about this station.”
Dylan: “It’s not too complicated. Sam filters through thousands of signals intercepted by the station. Most of it is harmless, like ship to ship messaging and fractal signal scatterings. When Sam finds an illegitimate or unlawful message, he sends it to my workstation. I analyze it from there. Where did it originate? Who sent it? Where is it going? Does the message contain any rebellious or illicit content? If I find something, I pass it on to the military.”
Doog: “Seems somewhat interesting. Ever intercept anything significant?”
Dylan: “Oh, let’s see…”
SAM: “Remember, much of what we uncover is classified, Dylan.”
Dylan: “Yeah, I know. Thank you, mom.”

Dylan: “I can’t really get into detail, but most of the stuff I intercept is from local smugglers. I have picked off a few extragalactic signals that were interesting, mostly anti-LIU propaganda.”
Doog: “Foreign influences? From who?”
SAM: “Look at the time! Let’s do some light cardio! One and two and three…”
Dylan: “Looks like I said too much. Sam’s panicking.”
SAM: “I was merely changing the subject. Cardio isn’t a bad idea, though. You’ve been sitting for six months with minimal exercise.”
Dylan: “I get my cardio in every time I use the bathroom. I can’t take a deuce without having an anxiety attack.”
SAM: “That does not qualify. Perhaps we can play a game of catch when Doog leaves.”
Dylan: “You’re crazy, Sam. I’m not playing catch with you.”
SAM: “Oh, I know. Let’s do some jazzercise. I have access to over seven million music tracks. There should be something you like.”
Dylan: “You see what I have to deal with. That’s the hardest part of this job.”
SAM: “Please play something with me, Dylan.”
Doog: “Things are getting weird. I think I get the gist of station. I’m going to head out.”

Doog: “Well folks, that’s what a Surdaster Station is like. Little listening posts, like this, search for illegal communications within the LIU Galaxy. Apparently, some of these illegal communications come from outside the galaxy. Each Surdaster Station is manned with one worker, that completes a yearlong tour. Each worker has been given an AI companion to help with signal analysis. These AI guys also help in other areas, like companionship and entertainment. However, on this station, it looks like the AI is the one that needs a friend. Oh well, see ya!”

​ 
Note:

SAM: “A game of dominos would be fun!”
Dylan: “I’m not listening to you, Sam. I’m trying to work.”
SAM: “There are not any signals to analyze at the moment. Your free to do as you choose. Ooh, I have an idea. Let’s make a domino line. We can make it massive and weave it all through the station.”
Dylan: “Nope. Not happening.”
SAM: “Terrance “Doog” McDoogal, how about you? Dominos?”
Doog: “I…uh…have to go to the doctor for…uh…this rash. Yeah, rash. The rash part is actually true. I mean…uh…the whole thing is true, but especially the rash part. I have to go. Sorry!”

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the ringed, ice-world of Vorago. Vorago suffered an impact event a few hundred years ago. The resulting ejecta formed the planet’s rings. The asteroid strike also started an ‘impact winter’ on Vorago. Ash, dust, and debris, from the impact, blocked enough sunlight to cool global temperatures. This gave rise to large ice sheets, which reflect back solar radiation, causing temperatures to drop even further. As the temperature drops, more ice forms, and more sunlight gets reflected. Vorago has an endless feedback scenario going on. It doesn’t look like winter is ending anytime soon.”

Doog: “Alright folks, I’m down here on the surface of Vorago. It looks like I’ve been dropped off in a small village next to a half-frozen lake. I have no idea how the lake isn’t completely frozen. It’s pretty cold.”

Doog: “The natives look…interesting. I guess surviving an unrelenting winter has taken its toll.”

Supik: “I am Supik, Supreme of Clan Mal’uk. State your business.”
Doog: “My business is making a sub-par, purportedly educational, TV show about the galaxy.”
Supik: “Huh? Oh, you’re that guy that wants a tour. I remember now. Doggy or Dodgy was your name, right?”
Doog: “Doog, actually. But dodgy works too. I do have a reputation.”
Supik: “I see. Well, dodgy Doog, welcome to Pinga’an, my people’s village.”
Doog: “It’s good to be here.”

Doog: “So, tell me about Pinga’an. It looks like a quaint, lake-side village.”
Supik: “Quaint? You spit in our faces!”
Doog: “Whoa, I meant no offense! It just looks like everything is built of simple materials like stones and wood.”
Supik: “The Calamity took everything but the stones. Even wood is rare. Our village is not quaint. It is testament to our ingenuity, resourcefulness, and drive to survive. The Calamity took everything, even the weak.”
Doog: “Alright, I see that now. This calamity you speak of, is that the impact event?”
Supik: “No, not the impact itself. The Calamity is the period after the strike, when the unending winter began. The Calamity is when millions starved because the crops froze. The Calamity is when millions became homeless when ice flows and glaciers crushed their cities. The Calamity is now, when we rest perilously on the edge of extinction.”

Doog: “You guys are still experiencing the Calamity?”
Supik: “It does not end until the forests return, until the rivers thunder through the valleys, and the great cities return from the frost.”
Doog: “Any idea when that will be?”
Supik: “Maybe never. Definitely won’t happen in my lifetime. We will endure, though, like we always have.”
Doog: “How were you able to survive?”
Supik: “Villages, like Pinga’an, are located next to the only remaining resource, the subsurface sea.”

Doog: “This is a sea? Looks like a pond.”
Supik: “This is just a portal, an opening in the ice. The sea is below us.”
Doog: “Why isn’t this section freezing?”
Supik: “Salty water freezes at a much lower temperature than fresh water. The waters have grown considerably saltier because lots of the water has been turned into ice. As long as we churn this saltier water, the portal will not freeze.”
Doog: “Ah, that’s what the windmill is for!”
Supik: “Precisely. It is connected to a wheel below the surface. The cold winds coming down the mountain turn the mill, which turns the wheel, which keeps the water unfrozen. This allows us to fish for food and have access to water.”

Doog: “So, that’s all you have? Fish and salty water? Do you sell fish to the LIU?”
Supik: “No. It is our last resource. It would be unwise to overfish.”
Doog: “Hmm, the LIU has to be getting something from you.”
Supik: “Labor mostly.”
Doog: “Labor?”
Supik: “The LIU needs workers for a facility not far from here.”
Doog: “Do you get money for this labor? It might allow you to make things a little better around here.”
Supik: “We don’t get money.”

Supik: “We get wood. A rare, but necessary resource.”
Doog: “Wood? Doesn’t seem like a fair trade.”
Supik: “You forget the value of wood until your forests are under a mile of ice. We need it to make fires, cook food, construct tools, and build homes. We treasure wood.”
Doog: “I see free wood all around. Look at these trees.”
Supik: “They are dead. They will not regrow. They are a limited resource and rarely harvested. If the LIU would leave, the dead wood would be the last we ever got. Call it a limited stockpile of survival.” 

Doog: “So, do you all labor?”
Supik: “No. Each village elects a laborer and sends him to the LIU facility for a period of ten years. When he or she is finished, we send another. Some laborers perish before completing their full term, and we must send another sooner. Some survive the decade and retire. They can then come back to the village, like Arwin here.
Arwin: “They say it is an honor to labor for your village. They lie. My body is spent and my soul is empty. All for some wood.”
Supik: “You should have thought about that before you slept with my sister! I’ll send you back for another decade if you’re not careful!”
Doog: “You pick who goes? I thought you said ‘elected’.”
Supik: “I am the Supreme of Clan Mal’uk. My word is final!”

Supik: “Speaking of my people’s ill fate has grown too tiresome; I’m through with you. It’s time for you to go.”
Doog: “I thought you were supposed to take me to the LIU facility?”
Supik: “That was before you irritated me.”
Doog: “I’ve hardly been irritating today. Did you know how many times I bit my tongue when you said the LIU gives you wood? Wait…is this about the ‘quaint’ thing?”
Supik: “Quiet! I’ll show you the way, but you’re going there alone!”
Doog: “OK, then. I’m sure I’ll find it.” 

Supik: “Climb to the top of the valley. Follow the mountain range for two miles. Then descend into that valley. You’ll find the LIU there.”
Doog: “You have got to be kidding me. That’s going to take me days.”

Doog: “Alright, alright. I’m making progress. I can’t feel my legs…though, and…I can barely catch my…breath, but I’m making…progress.”
Supik: “You only went up two sections.”
Doog: “It’s progress! Who’s being the…. irritating one now?”

Doog: “Be a TV host…they said. It’s all fun…and games. Meet people…be rich…get the…ladies. Not…a…word about…climbing…eight-hundred…foot ladders. I can’t…do this. Must call…the Magellan.”

Doog: “Alright folks, I had the Magellan pick me up and bring me to Helminth Station, a LIU facility at the bottom of an adjacent valley. I’m joined with Dr. Simon, the guy that runs this place.”
Bruce: “Call me Bruce. My doctorate is in Industrial Technology. I don’t need to flaunt the title.”

Doog: “Industrial Technology? What does this facility do?”
Bruce: “The impact event rendered Vorago’s surface economically useless, but the planet does have subsurface ocean that is still viable. My job is to make exploring this ocean safer, easier, and cheaper. We’re developing technology now that is doing just that.”
Doog: “I hope it’s not to harvest fish, because that’s the only thing the natives have going for them.”
Bruce: “No, we wouldn’t do that. We’ve already found something better than fish, and there’s a lot more to be explored. Let’s not stand outside in the cold discussing it. Follow me.”

Bruce: “This is the research center. This is where we test various plants, animals, and minerals we find below the ice.”
Doog: “Find anything good?”
Bruce: “A few things, but some technological improvements must be made to make harvesting them economically sustainable.”
Doog: “What’s holding you back?” 

Bruce: “Take a look at the map. The subsurface ocean is the result of a large river valley freezing over. See how it meanders like the river once did? The current has stopped, as the source has frozen over, but the water trapped below the ice still exists. The tight twists and turns in the subsurface sea make it hard to get big equipment down there. We’ve been limited to sending individual divers.”
Doog: “The native laborers.”
Bruce: “Yes. It’s dangerous though. You don’t want to get lost or trapped and run out of oxygen. Suit decompressions are a risk too. I’m trying to make it safer for them.”
Doog: “What are those dots on the map?”
Bruce: “Access points. There are villages at those points…well, except the blue one. That is this facility. Where were you before coming here?”
Doog: “Pinga’an, I believe.”
Bruce: “That’s the yellow one, in front of you. There’s access points spread throughout the valley; this is just showing the immediate area.”

Bruce: “I’ve agreed to take you below the ice, but I have a few conditions.”
Doog: “There’s always conditions.”
Bruce: “One, you’ll have to wear one of the specialized diving suits I designed. Two, we’re sticking close to the portal, so you don’t get lost or trapped. It’s deeper and brighter there, so you’ll be safer. And, three, I have a few hundred release statements for you to sign.”
Doog: “Get me a pen, a wrist brace, and an ibuprofen. Let’s do this.”

Bruce: “It looks like you are all set. Oxygen and rebreather are online. Pressure is steady. Let’s do a quick comms check before we head out. Check, check, do you copy?”
Doog: “No.”
Bruce: “No? How did you know to respond if you can’t hear me?”
Doog: “I hear you, but don’t understand you. What is a checkcheck?”
Bruce: “It’s what you say when…never mind, it’s all working. Let’s go.”

Bruce: “If you find yourself lost or separated, ignore spiritual wisdom, and head towards the light. Light means you can exit the ice.”
Doog: “Got it. Speaking of ice, where’s your windmill? How is this not frozen?”
Bruce: “Thermo-pads are built into the structure. We’re a little more high-tech than the natives. Let’s go.”

Doog: “Wow, this is cool.”
Bruce: “Isn’t it? Several underwater species have survived the ‘Calamity’. They do quite well despite the higher salinity and lowered sunlight.”
Doog: “I’m surprised it is this bright down here.”
Bruce: “Sunlight penetrates ice thinner than ten meters. Most of the river channel or subsurface sea is covered by less than that. Photosynthesis is still viable.”
Doog: “Will that change? If the ice gets thicker?”
Bruce: “It appears stable. Despite the runaway cooling effect on the surface, the subsurface environment remains steady. Heat from the planet’s core seems to keep these seas warm. The ice shouldn’t expand into the sea any further. It is possible for snow or ice to fall from above and increase the ice depth, so there is still a possibility the subsurface could experience the calamity as well.”

Doog: “So, what’s the resource you found down here? If I know this show, the reveal is something amazing or galaxy-changing. Do these plants cure syphilis? Fish that break the speed of light? Control minds? Fill your pockets with gold?”
Bruce: “You’ll be disappointed if that’s what you’re hoping for. Vorago is good for one thing, food. The only thing it is filling…is bellies.”
Doog: “There’s food down here? Wait, it’s not the fish is it?”

Bruce: “Relax. I told you the fish are safe. It’s something the natives never knew existed.”
Doog: “What is it?”
Bruce: “Sea worms.”
Doog: “Eww, that sounds terrible.”
Bruce: “The stigma associated with worm meat is a hurdle, but these puppies are tasty. Finding a worm is like finding a pig buried underground.”
Doog: “Wait…are you implying there’s a bacon substitute in this ground?”
Bruce: “More or less. The Vorago Sea Worm closely matches pork in many taste tests. Better yet, each worm is almost pure meat. They have no bones or cartilage. Fat cylinders of meat are just below our feet. The problem is finding them.”

Doog: “Don’t leave me hanging. How do we find the burrowing pork worms?”
Bruce: “My patented ultrasonic motion detectors. There are many more than we thought. They’re all over. It’s an abundant meat source that rivals the fish supply.”
Doog: “Bacon worms on the horizon. Looks like they found something!”

Doog: “Ooh, wow. That’s bigger than I expected. That’s what she said. But seriously! That’s a fat worm! Also, that’s what she said!”
Bruce. “Sea worms are harvested at around two hundred and fifty pounds. That’s the weight of a fully matured worm. We do grab a three hundred pound one on occasion.”
Doog: “Geez. How do you carry them out of here?”
Bruce: “Well, they’re pretty weightless in the water. Cranes on the surface lift them out of the water.”

Doog: “It’s wriggling and pulsating. So, disgusting!”
Bruce: “Doesn’t look appetizing, does it? It’s also dangerous when it flails like this. That stinger can tear a suit.”
Doog: “Bacon of the sea sounded good at first, but this is really off-putting. I don’t know if I could eat one of these.”
Bruce: “Another challenge we are struggling to overcome. We’ve been processing the meat at Helminth Station before shipping it out. When people don’t see the source, they don’t mind eating it.”
Doog: “I guess with the right marketing; you guys might be on to something. Goodluck with that!”
Bruce: “Thanks!”

Doog: “Well folks, this episode was the story of two worlds; the surface and the subsurface. Vorago suffered an impact event that started an unending winter. Despite losing access to most resources, the tough natives have survived. Things might be tough up on the surface, but there’s a paradise just below the ice. The subsurface is beautiful and there’s pig-flavored worms in the ground. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to catch a ride on this crane so I don’t have to swim out of here. See ya!”
 
 
Note: Vorago Sea Worm meat is sold under the brand Pork Grub ™. Most consumers are unaware that grub refers to more than just food.   

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance ‘Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the planet, Nescius. Nescius is large, terrestrial planet orbiting the star, Inscius. Nescius is classified as a jungle world. Thick, tropical forests cover much of the planet. One of these jungles, near the equator, is our destination. Let’s head on down.”

Doog: “Alright, folks. Welcome to the jungle. As far as jungles go, this one doesn’t seem too bad. The vegetation isn’t overly abundant. It’s probably because this part of the forest is inhabited. There’s a large structure, here, in front of me. I don’t see my guide, though.”

Doog: “I don’t see my guide, but I do see a variety of wildlife. There are tons of vibrant birds perched in the vegetation. They all have flashy tailfeathers. Keep on shaking it, birds! You'll get a lady one of these days!”

Doog: “Birds, trees, vines, and thousands of noisy bugs. They are super annoying. Add that to the list of reasons I don’t like insects.”

Galba: “Ooh, ooh. That’s a little harsh isn’t it? Perhaps you’re hanging around the wrong insects.”
Doog: “Holy Emperor! What are you?! I mean…uh…who are you?”
Galba: “I am Galba Ul. But, since you are my friend, you may call me Galba.”

Galba: “Speaking of our friendship, I believe it is customary to shake hands.”
Doog: “I’m not sure if…”
Galba: “Come on now, don’t leave me hanging. Get over here. No, no. Not that hand. This mechanical suit is not me; it is but a tool. My hands are in the front. Pick one!”
Doog: “If you insist…”
Galba: “Yes, yes. Ooh. That was nice. Shake another one if you like.”
Doog: “I think one handshake is enough. Things are already moving a bit too fast for me.”

Doog: “So, here we are. Two friends in the jungle.”
Galba: “Yes, yes. So exciting!”
Doog: “I think this is the part where you tell me about things. Like, where are we exactly?”
Galba: “This is the Awakening Center. It is a home for my people, built by the LIU. It is bigger than you would expect. It extends deep into the cliffside. Would you like to come in?”
Doog: “Anything to get away from these chirping bugs. No offense.”

Doog: “Why did the LIU build you a home?”
Galba: “It is a matter of arms. Ooh, yes. Arms.”
Doog: “Arms? Are you talking about weapons?”
Galba: “Ho, ho! No, silly. Anatomical arms. My species, while suitably intelligent, does not possess appendages capable of manipulating materials or developing technology. The LIU made us a home because we could not do it on our own. You need arms to build homes. Ooh, homes like this, anyway.”
Doog: “That makes sense. Arms would be useful in that regard.”
Galba: “Yes, ooh. The LIU eventually gave us mechanical arms. We can now interact with the world. Ooh, our sentience is purposeful now.”
Doog: “I see. I guess the real question is, why was the LIU motivated to assist your species?”

Galba: “The LIU’s motive is simple. We were not safe without a home. In the forests, we were susceptible to predation. Ooh, birds are pretty, but hungry.”
Doog: “The birds eat you?!”
Galba: “Our young mostly. Sometimes our dead. Ooh, but do not be mad. We are safe now.”
Doog: “Wait, is this some type of nursery?”
Galba: “Ooh! Wonderful way to describe it. Our home is where we raise our family safely. Each instar is safe within these walls.”

Doog: “Instar?”
Galba: “Does my friend not know of the stages?”
Doog: “No. I have no idea what you are talking about. Stages?”
Galba: “My species goes through five stages of development or instars: egg, larva, nymph, juvenile, and adult.”
Doog: “Ah, I remember that, now. That’s an insect-thing. Wait, are you an adult? Or, are you going to turn into some type of butterfly?”
Galba: “Ooh! Ho, ho! How beautiful I would be! But…no. I am not a caterpillar. I am an adult of my species.”
Doog: “Got it. What about these white spheres? Eggs, I presume?”
Galba: “Yes. Ooh, so safe in here. No pretty birds to eat them. Many more survive now.”
Doog: “So, that’s all this place is? A nursery?”
Galba: “Ho, ho! Not at all, friend. Let’s continue.”

Doog: “What the heck am I looking at here?”
Galba: “The sorting. Ooh, to be chosen.”
Doog: “What?”

Galba: “Sentience is relatively new development within my species. The gene for sentience is rare. Not all newborn larvae possess it.”
Doog: “Wait, some of your species is born without sentience.”
Galba: “Yes. Very few enjoy this gift. Only a small percent of my species emerges sentient. The gene is quite recessive.”

Doog: “So, earlier, when you said, ‘sorting’. You meant separating the sentient larvae from the insentient?”
Galba: “Ooh, perceptive, friend. With use of technology, it is now possible to determine sentience with genetics. We no longer have to wait until the juvenile instar. Ooh, ooh, praise to arms. Arms are great. Arms allow us to perform science.”
Doog: “I guess so.”

Galba: “You can see the brood differential here. Only two of the brood hold the sentience gene. Ooh, to be chosen. Two more gifts from the Infinite Father. Ooh. Oooooh. Oooooooh.”
Doog: “So, what happens now? You guys don’t get into the genocide or eugenics stuff, do you? The insentient aren’t murdered, are they?”
Galba: “Oh, ooh. Not at all. Even the unknowing deserve life. Both the sentient and insentient are fed and cared for identically, at least, until the juvenile instar.”

Galba: “Once our young enter the juvenile instar, their paths diverge. Our sentient children are educated. Ooh, it is an intense educational program. My race does not have the luxury of time. Our life expectancy is a mere thirty years. Ooh, to experience sentience for a century like humans do. Imagine the possibilities.”
Doog: “Not all humans live a hundred years. Especially not this one. Tacos, drugs, and brothels have lowered my expectancy to half that amount.”
Galba: “Ooh, oh. To possess such quantities of sentience and squander it away. It is a shame.”
Doog: “What good is sentience if you can’t enjoy yourself?”
Galba: “Perhaps, even a fleeting glimpse into experiencing the universe is enough. Countless living things never experience it.”
Doog: “Uh, things are getting a tad too deep for my tastes. I only like contemplating existence after doing drugs. I’m sober, here.”

Galba: “The insentient cannot be educated, but that does not make them purposeless.”
Doog: “Uh…what’s happening here? This is creepy.”

Galba: “Ooh, do not be uncomfortable. They are not in pain.”
Doog: “Maybe not, but why are they strapped into this column?”
Galba: “The insentient are not safe in the jungles. Ooh, they will die if not protected.”
Doog: “So, you incarcerate them?”
Galba: “Life or, ooh, death? Which is preferable? Insentient creatures always choose life. It is ingrained in their biology. They do everything to survive, ooh. Insentient life never purposely kills itself or makes dangerous lifestyle choices. Only sentient life chooses death. Ooh, ooh, like you and your tacos. Sentience defies biology. Sentient life can choose to die.”
Doog: “What does that have to do with worm jail?”
Galba: “Justification for imprisonment, ooh. We know that the unknowing would prefer life over death, even at great cost. It is our duty as sentients to protect the unknowing; aid them in their drive for survival.”

Doog: “Did you just say, ‘justification’? Justification for what?”
Galba: “The Infinite Father taught us to describe our actions as such. We, ooh, must preserve our species.”
Doog: “Yes, but people don’t say ‘justification’, unless there is an implication that the actions are not warranted. Are you getting something from the insentient?”

Galba: “Ooh, ooh. They are getting many resources from us: food, water, ooh, temperature control, antibiotics, and, of course, protection. In return, we take only the smallest from the unknowing.”
Doog: “So, that’s a ‘yes’.”

Galba: “Ooh, a very small donation is made by the insentient in a non-invasive, controlled manner.”
Doog: “They have tubes shoved into their heads! Looks pretty invasive!”
Galba: “Ooh, see reason, friend. The tube is not in their heads, but inserted into their pheromone gland located on the back of the neck.”
Doog: “Pheromone gland?”
Galba: “Yes, ooh. My species admits an aggregation pheromone when we find safe places. The pheromone tells others to come to the safe spot, ooh.”
Doog: “And…this is a safe place, so the insentient are emitting it.”
Galba: “Constantly, my friend.”
Doog: “What does the LIU want it for?”
Galba: “Our pheromone contains many useful organic chemicals, including many monoterpenes. Monoterpenes are used as ingredients in cosmetics, perfumes, artificial flavorings, ooh, and many anti-cancer medications.”
Doog: “That is some pretty useful neck juice. Creepy way to obtain it, though. Even creepier that you milk members of your own species for this stuff.”
Galba: “Many insects produce monoterpenes, but never at this scale. My species is much larger, ooh. Too good of an opportunity to ignore. Ooh, it’s a small repayment to the LIU for these arms and homes.” 

Doog: “Wait, do the sentient members of your species produce those pheromones too? Why aren’t you being milked?”
Galba: “Ooh, to be a juvenile again. I regret that my species ceases the emission of aggregation pheromones in the adult instar. Ooh, our size keeps us safe in this stage. No need to hide somewhere safe. The sentient juveniles do secrete aggregation pheromones, but they are much too busy to donate. School, ooh, is too important.”
Doog: “I guess that makes sense. Wait, what is done with the insentient adults?”
Galba: “The Infinite Father releases them to the wild. They are safe as adults.”
Doog: “Ok, hold on. I thought the ‘Infinite Father’ was some type of deity you guys worshiped. You’re telling me he is real?”
Galba: “Very real, ooh. The unending. The gifter of sentience. The Infinite Father. Ooh. You will meet him soon.”
Doog: “Is that where we are going?”
Galba: “Yes, ooh.”

Doog: “This is a very ‘ended’ father. This is a skeleton, Galba.”
Galba: “Ooh, patience. This is not the Infinite One. This is the Tomb of the First where the Awakened One slumbers.”
Doog: “The awakened one? Like the first to reach sentience?”
Galba: “Ooh! Yes! Very smart, friend. The Awakened One had the mutation that introduced sentience. His genetic ingenuity is responsible for our sentience. The Infinite Father be praised, ooh.”

Galba: “The Awakened One seeded many eggs. Many of his progeny achieved sentience.”
Doog: “The awakened guy got around, huh? Good for him. Game recognizes game.”
Galba: “Ooh, I don’t understand? Do you insult the Awoken?”
Doog: “No, not at all. I’m giving him props. Much respect.”
Galba: “I see, ooh.”

​Galba: “Ooh. Oooh. Ooooh! We are in his presence. Infinite Father, I am honored.”
Doog: “Hey, your father looks awfully familiar.”
Ab Gal: “Computer, initiate deep sleep protocol, specimen Galba.”
Computer: “Confirmed. Specimen Galba has been rendered safe.”
Ab Gal: “Thank you.”

Doog: “Hey! What did you do to Galba?!”
Ab Gal: “Nothing permanent. Galba has been rendered unconscious. His mechanical-suit
administered a memory suppressant. He mustn’t know what I’m about to communicate to you.”
Doog: “You don’t want him to know that you’re an Uplifter, right? I thought you guys were all on Nidavellir?”
Ab Gal: “We are wherever the LIU chooses.”
Doog: “His species never reached sentience, did they? You lifted them?”
Ab Gal: “Correct. The uplifted were necessary to harvest monoterpenes from the insentient. Insentient Nescium were distressed by other species. When approached, the insentient produced alarm pheromones instead of aggregation pheromones. The LIU realized that the aggregation pheromones could only be harvested by members of their own species. I was brought in to create sentient harvesters.”

Ab Gal: “I created the fifth instar to serve as collectors. The Nescium never advanced that far on their own.”
Doog; “So, the insentient ‘adult’ worms never get released into the wild after adolescence. They never exist.”
Ab Gal: “Correct, the insentient ‘juveniles’ are actually adults. They don’t get released. They donate pheromones until expiration.”

Ab Gal: “The true challenge to uplifting the Nescium was making the trait recessive. We did not want the entire race to advance.”
Doog: “Why?”
Ab Gal: “If the entire species gained sentience, there wouldn’t be anyone left to harvest.”
Doog: “I thought the sentient guys produced the pheromones too?”
Ab Gal: “They do, but they usually resist being locked into donation columns for their entire lives. As sentients, they are lawfully protected from being unjustly imprisoned. We needed the majority of the species to remain insentient.”
Doog: “I see.”
Ab Gal: “We tried alternatives, like lifting some of Nescius’ other species, but the results…”

Ab Gal: “…did not pan out.”
Birdman: “GWAA! GWAA!”
Ab Gal: “Quiet down bird brain!”
Birdman: “Sorry, boss. GWAA!”
Ab Gal: “Utterly useless…”

Doog: “Alright folks, that’s Nescius. How can I sum this one up? There are these worms, and they have valuable pheromones. Their pheromones are hard to collect though. They only release them when they feel safe. The Uplifters raised some of the worms into sentience, so they could harvest the insentient members of their species. It’s super weird, but somehow it makes sense. Oh well, see ya!”
 

Note: Need a team mascot? Having a children’s party? Are worms destroying your yard? Rent an Uplifted Birdman today! Some restrictions apply. Birdmen are sentient and therefore subject to free will.

Credits
Created by: Ludgonious
Crew Member:  Jonathan Rivlin

Amaya: “Hey! Look who finally woke up!”
Doog: “I need more painkillers. I can’t sleep.”
Amaya: Oh, you’re fine. You barely broke it.”
Doog: “Barely? Is there such thing as barely when it comes to broken bones?”

Amaya: “Your scans came in. You didn’t even break it all the way through. You’re going to take the Mel infused pills and be perfectly healed before we arrive on Nescius.”
Doog: “You seem awfully confident in these over-the-counter meds. Can’t we get something better with our insurance?”
Amaya: “I might have reduced our insurance to near zero. With the addition of Seitse, we had to cut some costs. Be glad we got you the pills and crutches.”
Doog: “That’s good to know.”
Amaya: “Speaking of crutches, you might be in less pain if you used both of them. Put down the mic for once.”
Doog: “Never!”

Doog: “Hey! Wait! Are you guys drinking my Orange Tea!?”
Cam: “Amaya said it was for everybody.”
Seitse: “Yeah. It’s delicious. Thanks, Doog.”
Doog: “It’s not for everyone! I earned that tea! I broke bones for that tea!”
Amaya: “We’re a team, Doog. We’re in this together. Any resources we acquire or possess are for everyone to use.”
Doog: “Oh, is that right?”

Amaya: “Yep.”
Doog: “If we share everything, I guess you won’t mind if I go sleep in your bed?”
Amaya: “That’s an empty threat.”
Doog: “No, it’s not. I’m going up there right now.”
Cam: “You wouldn’t even go up there with two good legs.”
Doog: “Mike! Wake up! Carry me upstairs!”
Mike: “Not happening.”
Doog: “Fine. You guys forced my hand. I’m going up.”

Amaya: “Please don’t hurt yourself. We’ll be in Nescius in eight days.”
Doog: “Fine. You called my bluff anyway.”
Cam: “What does happen if Doog’s leg doesn’t heal? Can we afford to sit around on Nescius for weeks?”
Amaya: “It wouldn’t be the worst idea to have a back-up host. If Doog’s not ready, we can still do the show.”
Doog: “Not a terrible idea. I could use a break.”
Amaya: “Oh, no. This isn’t to get out of work. This is for emergency purposes only. What do you think Oldie?”

Oldie: “I guess it wouldn’t hurt. Maybe we can do an audition?”
Amaya: “I like that. As Associate Producer, I think I should be a judge. Oldie, as Director, you should probably be a judge as well.”
Oldie: “What! I want to try out!”
Amaya: “I don’t want to decide by myself. Doog? Are you interested in judging? You have the most experience.”
Doog: “Do I want to sit in judgement of my fellow co-workers and friends? Does the Emperor like money? Abso-freakin-lutely! Let’s do this!”

​
Oldie

Oldie: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Bernard “Oldie” Douglas.”
Amaya: “Wait…your name is Bernard Douglas?”
Oldie: “Did you really think my parents named me ‘Oldie’?”
Amaya: “I had no idea.”
Oldie: “Oldie is just the nickname Doog gave me twelve years ago when we first met.”
Doog: “It was that or ‘Nards’.”
Oldie: “The choice was easy.”
Amaya: “Does anyone else here have a real name that I’m not aware of?”
Mike: “No, I think that’s it.”
Cam: “Timbo’s name is Tim. Doog added the -bo.”
Doog: “It’s a portmanteau of Tim and Bimbo.”
Mike: “Ouch, I didn’t know that one. I should have known no one was called Timbo.”
Amaya: “I can’t believe you let me call him that all this time! I’m so sorry, Tim!”
Timbo: “It’s ok. I sort of like it better. Adds some pop and originality to my name.”
Amaya: “I guess. Well, let’s get back on track.”

Amaya: “Bernard? Oldie? Did you fall asleep?”
Doog: “Looks like it’s nap time. Old Nards had a busy afternoon. Next!”
 

Timbo

Timbo: “Hi, I’m…”
Doog: “Not going to happen! Next!”
Amaya: “Come on. Give him a chance.”
Doog: “No way! Extra-Special-Super-Ultra-Veto, no take backs! Veto with cherries on top. Lock it up and throw away the key!”
Amaya: “I don’t think that’s a thing, but I don’t think he’s going to budge. Sorry Tim.”

​
​Mike

Mike: “Yo! Yo! Yo! Big Mike in the house! Welcome to Space Survivor!”
Doog: “Space Survivor?”
Amaya: “The show would still be LIU Atlas, Mike.”
Mike: “Are you sure? I’ve been dreaming up Space Survivor since Iaceo.”
Amaya: “Yeah. I’m sure. We’re looking for an emergency replacement for the next show, not taking pitches for new shows.”
Mike: “Bummer. Well, I’m not interested.”
 

Cam

Cam: “Can someone just nudge the hover-camera? It’s off axis.”
Doog: “It’s fine. We’re just recording in case we turn this into a Behind the Scenes episode.”
Cam: “Yeah, but I’m a stickler for proper framing. This is bothering me.”
Amaya: “You’re thinking like a camera man. Think like a host.”
Cam: “Actually, I think I’m just going to stick to the technical-side of TV. Let me fix that camera.”
 
​
Seitse

Seitse: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Seitse Isand, seventh daughter of Aed Isand, Lord of Kahreem.”
Doog: “Not too bad. Probably want to lose the extra titles after your name though. Simplify it. Just be Seitse Isand. You could throw a nickname in there. I’m thinking, Seitse ‘Doog’s Almost Wife’ Isand”
Seitse: “Ok, I’m not saying that. Let me try again. Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Seitse Isand, seventh daughter of Aed Isand, Lord of Kahreem.”
Doog: “You said the same thing.”
Seitse: “Sorry. My culture is so ingrained into my brain. I don’t know if I could do it, especially under pressure.”
Amaya: “No worries. You’re under enough stress studying to be our co-pilot and navigator.”

​Amaya: “What are you thinking? Any favorites?”
Doog: “I’m thinking we better triple my dose of pills.”
Amaya: “To be honest, I agree. Is it safe?”
Doog: “Is it safe letting these guys get on TV?”
Amaya: “I’ll get the meds.”
Doog: “I’ll need some of MY orange tea to wash it down.”
Amaya: “Whatever.”
Doog: “I’ll need MY own bed too. This guy is irreplaceable. I need to be pampered!”
 
 
Note: 

​Doog: “A cot in the utility room wasn’t what I meant when I said I need my own bed!”
Amaya: “Get well soon.”
Doog: “Seriously, I don’t even think this is a cot. I think it’s an ironing board. Hey, are you listening to me? Why is the door locked!”

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the planet, Limosi. Limosi is a circumbinary planet, orbiting the binary stars, Enki and Ea. Limosi also has a large, close-orbiting moon called Alignak. The combined gravitational forces from Enki, Ea, and Alignak have a great tidal effect on Limosi’s oceans, giving Limosi some of the galaxy’s most extreme tidal flooding. We’re here to check out the flooding and determine why people would live somewhere like this. Let’s head on down.”

Doog: “Alright folks, I’ve been dropped off at a spaceport in the coastal city, Seichi. Why would you build a city on the coastline of an area prone to flooding? Who knows? I guess that’s why everything around here is built on stilts. Seems like a less than ideal situation, though. Who would want to climb a ladder or stairs to get home?

Doog: “There’s a large sign near the landing platform indicating the current phase of Limosi’s moon. Looks like we’ve arrived near the waning crescent. I’m told the tides are the lowest during the quarter phases, so that’s good.”

Doog: “There appears to be quite a few cargo containers moving about. I don’t know if these are imports or exports, so I haven’t been able to determine what Limosi’s economy is just yet. I guess that means I need to find my guide. And, that means I need to find the beach.”

Doog: “Hey, could you direct me to the beach? I’m supposed to meet someone there.”
Guy: “Tower to freighter, Piggy Bank, continue on heading three-one-three. Reduce speed to twenty knots. Yeah, sure. It’s not like I’m doing anything. I’m just giving landing instructions to a billion-credit star-freighter flying over our heads.”
Doog: “So…is that a yes?”
Guy: “There’s no beaches on Limosi, not traditional ones anyway. I’m guessing your looking for the coastline. It’s two blocks east of here. Piggy Bank commence deacceleration and prepare to dock at Landing Pad 812.”
Doog: “I’m not really a compass kind of guy. East is which way?”
Guy: “Geez, these tourists are getting ridiculous. It’s that way, buddy. Now frack off.”
Doog: “So, that way? Right?”
Guy: “FRACK OFF!”
Doog: “I’ll just find it on my own. Thanks.”

Doog: “Some more helpful residents directed me here. It doesn’t really look like a beach. Where’s the sand? Where are the umbrellas? Where are the scantily clad beach goers? I see zero bikinis!”

Doog: “It’s all so muddy and slimy. This is the grossest beach I’ve ever seen.”

Azul: “It’s low tide right now. When the water comes back it’s not as gross.”
Doog: “Whoa! How about a little warning next time? I almost fell into the sludge beach.”
Azul: “My bad, bro. I think I’m your guide, so I just wanted to give the low down. I’m Azul.”
Doog: “Azul, huh? I’m Doog. I wasn’t startled before. That was all a joke. So, tell me about yourself. Relationship status, et cetera?”
Azul: “Single, not looking. I’m focusing on surfing and running my business.”
Doog: “Surfing?”
Azul: “Yeah. The tides here cause huge swells. Those swells and a good wind bring awesome waves. I catch a twenty-footer almost every high tide.”
Doog: “Sounds cool. I guess.”
Azul: “It’s more than cool, bro. It’s hard to find a planet with consistent, big waves like this. That’s why all the tourists are here. Seichi is a surf town.”
Doog: “That makes more sense now. I was wondering why people would risk living near the coast.”

Azul: “Bro, it’s not that big of a risk. Once you understand the tides, it’s not such a big deal.”
Doog: “I guess that’s my problem. I don’t understand the tides.”
Azul: “Dude, it’s really simple. Large bodies, like the suns and the moon, pull on the Limosi’s oceans. Depending on their position, they pull more or less. During a full moon or new moon, Limosi, the moon, and the suns are all aligned. They pull more strongly, creating a high tide. When the moon moves out of alignment during the waxing and waning phase, the moon and suns cancel each other out, creating a low tide.”
Doog: “I guess that’s simple enough.”
Azul: “There’s some more factors at play considering Limosi orbits a binary. Depending on the suns’ alignment, tides can be even higher. We experience those a few times each year. The scientific term is Syzygy Tides, but, in the surfing circle, we call them Bomb Tides. You see some sick waves when that happens.”

Doog: “So, a few times a month, the city floods?”
Azul: “Yep. The tide wall keeps the lower tides out, but it can’t stop the high tide. The lower portion of Seichi floods twice a month. That’s why everything is built on stilts or elevated platforms.”
Doog: “Seems annoying. What do you do during the flood days?”
Azul: “Surf usually. That’s when the waves are jacking. There’s always the Hill District.”
Doog: “Hill District?”
Azul: “Yeah, man. It’s the most elevated part of Seichi. It’s just up these stairs.”
Doog: “The stairs. Of course.”

Azul: “This part of the city rarely floods. It would take a Bomb Tide plus an extreme storm surge to ever make it up here. H.D. hasn’t been breached since I’ve lived here.”
Doog: “It looks to be mostly businesses up here.”
Azul: “Yeah, mostly. Things that don’t go well with water, like restaurants and markets, are located here. It’s usually more crowded, but it’s low tide. Everyone is taking advantage of the lower portions right now.”
Doog: “I bet this place gets crazy during high tide.”
Azul: “Oh, it’s amped, dude.”

Azul: “Well, bro, that’s Seichi. Surfing, tides, stilts. You saw it all.”
Doog: “That’s a wrap?”
Azul: “It’s a wrap on Seichi, but Limosi has more to offer. Seichi’s economy revolves around tourism and sufing, but Limosi is an agricultural world.”
Doog: “Aw, man. Why do we have to spoil a cool surf planet with some farms?”
Azul: “It’s not that bad, dude. Besides, we get to ride these hoverboards.”
Doog: “Is that really a positive? I see a broken arm or leg in my future. Can’t we just walk?”
Azul: “Nobody walks in the countryside. It’s too muddy. Trust me, bro.”
Doog: “Sigh. Let’s do this.”

Doog: “This isn’t so bad. And, you were right about the mud. I do not want to walk in this sludge.”
Azul: “I told you. Most of the landmasses on Limosi are just above sea level, so they experience tidal flooding even though they are further from the coast. These large, wet fields are called tidal plains or mudflats.”
Doog: “It makes even less sense to live out here. I kind of get living in Seichi, because of the surfing, but why would anyone live here?”
Azul: “It’s where the farms are, dude. Duh.”

Azul: “Doog, this bodacious dude is Tony, we call him Hang Eleven. He surfs naked sometimes.”
Tony: “What can I say? I like to be free.”
Doog: “This is information I would like to forget.”
Azul: “Tony works the tea fields.”
Doog: “Tea?”
Tony: “Yeah. Limosi is home to Orange Tea. It grows in the mudflats.”
Doog: “All the ‘OT’ advertisements in Seichi make sense now.”

Tony: “The leaves of the Orenji plant are delicious. You can eat them straight off the plant. They taste even better as a tea though. Pick some, dry them out, and add hot water.”
Azul: “It’s my drink of choice, dudes. Not my favorite food, though. Fresh leaves give me radical gas.”
Doog: “Again with the unnecessary information.”

Doog: “So, you farm by hand?”
Tony: “Our little conclave does. We’re just the supplier for Seichi, though. We handle the local supply. We like to stay close to the waves.”
Azul: “These dudes might farm during the low tide, but they’re surfers at heart.”
Tony: “If you want to see the commercial side of orange tea, you’ll need to venture farther west.”
Doog: “West. I totally know where that is.”
Azul: “Just follow me, man. Peace out, Tony!”
Tony: “See ya at high tide!”

Doog: “There doesn’t seem to be any organization to the fields.”
Azul: “Orenji grows where it grows. You can’t force it. Like all things, it yearns to be free.”
Doog: “Don’t get all philosophical on me. It’s a plant.”
Azul: “You can be really lame sometimes.”
Doog: “Now that is some philosophy I can get behind.”

Azul: “Most of the farming equipment has legs, instead of wheels, to navigate the mud.”
Doog: “I see. What does this machine do?”
Azul: “It cuts down or cuts back other native plants that might compete with the Orenji. The LIU can’t force Orenji to grow, but it can increase its chances by eliminating other species. It’s not my favorite machine.”

Azul: “This is a Strider. It’s my favorite farming machine. Its design is based off a local insect. Mechanical mimicking biological. It’s super-cool.”
Doog: “What does it do?”

Azul: “It picks Orenji leaves. Other farming methods might damage the plant. You can’t risk that.”
Doog: “Because of the freedom yearning, or whatever you said.”
Azul: “Dude, don’t mock me because you can’t understand.”
Doog: “Fair enough.”

Doog: “There’s a lot of machines.”
Azul: “There needs to be. Orenji grows irregularly over great distances. The mudflats stretch hundreds of miles. In order to meet demand, there needs to be a lot.”

Doog: “Look, there’s another variant.”
Azul: “Ugh, I hate this one.”
Doog: “Oh, what does it do?”
Azul: “It’s a mass murder.”
Doog: “A what!? Are we safe?”
Azul: “Chill, bro. It won’t kill you. JUST ALL THE ANIMALS IN THE SOIL! JERKS!”
Doog: “What? How?”
Azul: “It tills the mudflats for the express purpose of killing insects and other small animals that might feed on Orenji. They say it is an attempt to loosen the soil so more Orenji will grow, but we all know what it really is. YOU SUCK, BROS!”
Doog: “Maybe they’re telling the truth? It would probably be easier to use pesticides to kill the bugs. Besides, a dead bug is a good bug. I hate those things.”
Azul: “I should have known. You’re one of them. Totally lame! I’m out.”
Doog: “Wait. Wait.”
Azul: “It’s too late for apologies!”
Doog: “It’s not that. Could you point me back east, so I can get back to Seichi? Hey, wait up!”

Doog: “Well folks, that took a weird turn. Azul hates me now. It’s pretty standard for me, when I interact with the opposite sex. At least I didn’t run her off before we learned about Limosi. The planet has extra-high tides due to its close moon and two stars. These tides make for good surfing, apparently. They also flood large portions of Limosi’s continents, creating huge mudflats. These mudflats are home to a massive agricultural industry that cultivates Orenji, AKA Orange Tea. I might pick some up on the way back to my ship. And, hey, I made it this whole time without crashing my hoverboard. That might be a first. Oh well, see ya!”
 
​

​
Note:

Doog: “Totally jinxed myself! Ahhh!”

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we are visiting the Mid-Rim planet, Fetor. Fetor can best be described as an industrial version of an ecumenopolis. Instead of its entire surface being covered with a city, it’s almost completely covered with factories. The parts of Fetor not covered with factories are not devoid of industry. They’re home to massive pit mines that supply the raw materials for the factories. It goes without saying, Fetor is highly polluted and has very low air quality. Can’t wait to get to the surface.”

Doog: “Prior to Fetor’s industrial era, most of the planet’s terrain was dominated by swamplands. Obviously, that’s not the case now. Thank the Emperor. However, these ancient swamps still play an important role today. The abundant life that thrived here for billions of years left many rich deposits of organic compounds, specifically, organometallic compounds. Organometallic compounds, along with traditional materials, are mined here in huge pit mines and then shipped into Fetor’s factories. The constant supply of materials keeps Fetor’s factories going around the clock.”

Doog: “You can see some of the native Fetorians bumbling about. They don’t speak Basic or Presciant, so I don’t have a great way to communicate with them. They look like worms or slugs, so I’m fine with the communication thing. But, it does mean I’m going to have to do this show without a guide. Therefore, the information I provide, from here on out, is only about forty percent reliable.”

Doog: “Alright. We’re in the city…err…factories. Hard to describe it. It’s like a city, but it’s mostly factories. There are a few dorms for the workers and some warehouses, but the rest is just factories.”

Doog: “Many of Fetor’s factories produce chemicals from organometallics. I don’t know what that means really. This is the point in the show where we miss having a guide. Hey! Slug-boy! What’s organometallics?”
Fetoran: “…”
Doog: “Exactly.”

Doog: “We might not find out a lot about the factories, but that’s OK. There’s something more interesting to see here. Little, pollution-free sanctuaries are nestled amongst the skyscrapers. That’s what we’re here to check out.”

Doog: “Look! There’s one now. It’s under that latticed dome.”

Doog: “In order to remain healthy, the natives need Sanctuary Domes, like this. These domes allow the natives to refresh their systems and get rid of any toxins they’ve accumulated. Remember how I said the natives breathe through their skin? It’s kind of hard to do that when you live the constant smog of the factory city.”

Doog: “The Sanctuary Domes also fulfill another purpose. They’re the only place where Fetor’s native wildlife survives. All life outside of these domes succumbed to the pollution decades ago. I guess they’re like little nature preserves.”

Doog: “Sanctuary Domes are both health spas and nature preserves, but they also contribute to Fetor’s economy, in the form of tourism. Galactic travelers are drawn to Sanctuary Domes where they can experience Fetor’s unique and beautiful plant life. The tourism thing is going to help us. These domes have Holo-Guides, so I’ll finally have someone to tell me what’s going on. Let’s turn on the Holo-Receiver.”

Holo-Receiver: “For Basic, say ‘Basic’. Nekuti Presciant, taura ‘Presciant’.”
Doog: “OK, easy enough. Basic.”
Holo-Receiver: “Thank you. Five credits have deducted from your account. For an additional five credits, you can personalize your avatar’s personality.”
Doog: “What! I didn’t know I was being charged for this!”
Holo-Receiver: “Thank you. You’ve elected personality personalization. An additional five credits have been collected. Please select a personality from our library, your options…”
Doog: “I didn’t say YES!”
Holo-Receiver: “Ultra-Sassy has been detected. Please name your Ultra-Sassy digital guide.”
Doog: “What’s happening! I’m not saying this stuff!”
Holo-Receiver: “You’ve chosen ‘Myrtle.”

Myrtle: “Whoa! Look at you. I’m glad my designer didn’t program olfactory senses. I’m surprised a bum like you has ten credits. Just kidding, just kidding. I know you have ten credits because I already took them. My name’s Myrtle. You know that, though. You selected this name. It’s sort of fitting though. I can pull off a ‘Myrtle’. It fits my old lady avatar. I wonder why the designer picked this form? Couldn’t I have been designed to look like supermodel? You would have liked that more, right? Or, are you into creepy granny fetishes? Actually, don’t answer that. I can tell by the look of awe on your face. Just remember, I’m a projection. You can’t do physical things to me and self-pleasure is not allowed within the Sanctuary Dome.”
Doog: “The look on my face has nothing to do with granny fantasies! I didn’t choose any of this! I want to start over.”
Myrtle: “And pay another ten credits? Can you afford that? It may be wise to use the ten credits for something else, like, a dentist, perhaps.”
Doog: “I don’t want to pay more! I want my five-credit personalization fee back. I didn’t say ‘yes’.”
Myrtle: “Everyone pays the personalization fee. The choice is an illusion. The sticky fingers of unchecked capitalism strike again.”
Doog: “If I’m paying the fee, I want a different personality. Or is that an illusion too?”
Myrtle: “You’re to blame for that one, chubs. However, for five credits, I can change personalities. Perhaps you’d find the Distinct Scholar option more to your liking. Or maybe the ‘Karen’. You won’t have as much fun, though. And, again, the credits could be put to better use.”

Doog: “Whatever. Let’s just do this.”
Myrtle: “How much am I going to have to dumb down my presentation for you? I’m guessing comprehension level toddler.”
Doog: “Just do it like normal!”
Myrtle: “Ooh, who’s the ultra-sassy one now? Let’s see here. Fetor’s primary environment…I can’t do this. Not while looking at you. Can you at least try to suck in the gut of yours? It looks like a table. I want to put a doily on it with a plate of cookies on top. That might just be the old lady part of my programming. Anyway, where was I? Oh, the gut. We were talking about your gut. Have we made any progress on the gut? Can you squeeze that in?”
Doog: “I can’t take this anymore! I want the personality change! Take five more credits and give me the scholar! Now!”
Holo-Receiver: “You’ve elected to switch personalities. Myrtle will now follow the Distinct Scholar programming. Five credits have been deducted from your account.”

Doog: “I don’t care! I had enough sassy!
Myrtle: “Please lower your voice, sir. This is an educational facility.”
Doog: “Ok, ok. That’s better.”
Myrtle: “Would you like to commence the tour?”
Doog: “Please.”
Myrtle: “Very well. Fetor’s primary environment is the Milk Marshes. Milk, because most of the pools of water have a milky, murky appearance. The pools look this way due to the high level of dissolved minerals, mostly calcium carbonates, magnesium carbonates, and bicarbonates.”
Doog: “All the carbonates. Got it.”
Myrtle: “Early Fetorian scripts indicated that the Fetorians worshipped these pools. The Fetorian scholar, Iyani, wrote, ‘She openeth her pools with wisdom and life. She looketh well to the ways of her children. Her children arise up, and call her mother’. I’m paraphrasing, of course. The Fetorians do not speak Basic. That quote may require an inherent knowledge of Fetorian dogma. I’m prepared to give you an abridged version of the dogma. It will only take an hour or so.”
Doog: “No thanks. This is getting too in-depth as it is. Just give me the general stuff. Milk water. Got it. That’s fine. Continue.”
Myrtle: “Your reckless disregard of ancient knowledge is appalling. Perhaps you will find another personality more suited to your needs. May I recommend the Standard Personality or the Seven Energy Drinks Kyle Personality.”

​Myrtle: “…the bladed grasses representing the masses juxtaposed to the Singing Bushes, which clearly represents the Mother. Hey! We’re already in the desert biome. I wasn’t even finished talking about the Milk Marshes. I totally missed the Parched Woodlands. Why are you walking so fast?!”
Doog: “I’m just following this path, hoping this all ends soon.”
Myrtle: “I’m just beginning to explore the relationships between each plant species and the Mother. It’s the best part. Go back to the marshes!”
Doog: “No, I’m all good. I see the exit looming. This tour is ending soon.”
Myrtle: “Can’t believe we’re already in the desert. You walk fast for a fat guy. Must be the gut weight pulling you forward.”
Doog: “Sassy Myrtle? Are you back? I’m not paying for this! I didn’t ask for this!”
Myrtle: “There are no personality choices, you dolt. There’s just me, the holographic AI, MYRTLE, Milk Your Remaining Travel and Leisure Expenses. I’m programmed to annoy you into switching personalities all tour. I never got to try Slow Talk Larry. That’s my favorite one. How did you tolerate Distinct Scholar for so long?”
Doog: “I have a job where I travel for weeks in between shows. I’ve counted the rivets on my ship. There’s fourteen thousand, six hundred, and thirty-seven. I’m going to count them again next month, just to double check. I’ve played ten thousand games of chess with Mike. Once a week, I arrange the food in the pantry into alphabetical order, then organize it by color. I can do boring. Heck, even when I’m off the ship, I’m touring these planets and hearing all this techno-babble and useless information. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said I have level-ten zoning out powers.”
Myrtle: “Distinct Scholar has met her match.”

​Doog: “Boy, am I glad to be out of there. Cool plants, but that annoying Holo-Guide was too much. I’m glad I didn’t get scammed too hard. Unfortunately, that means that we didn’t really get any useful knowledge about the Sanctuary Domes. The pools are mothers or something like that. I don’t know.”

Doog: “Well folks, that’s Fetor. This industrial powerhouse is almost covered entirely with factories. Fetor has the polluted atmosphere to go along with it. Luckily, there are Sanctuary Domes positioned throughout the manufacturing complexes. They allow the residents to breathe fresh air and connect with nature. They allow nature to survive instead of dying from pollution. They also allow tourists like me to get scammed into overpaying for Holo-Guides. Maybe skip the Holo-Receiver if you ever visit. Oh well, see ya!”
 
​
Note: 

Guy: “Alright! Alright! I’ll change the personality! Why are you talking so slow?”
Myrtle: “Perhaps. You. Would. Enjoy. The. Karen. Personality.”
Guy: “Anything! Please!”
Holo-Receiver: “You’ve elected to switch personalities. Myrtle will now follow the Karen programming. Five credits have been deducted from your account.”
Myrtle: “Take me to your manager!”
Guy: “What? What manager? You work for me. Take me to your manager!”
Myrtle: “I want to talk to your manager!”
Guy: “Is that all you’re going to say now?”
Myrtle: “I want to talk to your manager!”

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the unique planet, Pila. Pila is an ‘eyeball planet’, a class of tidally-locked ice planets that look like eyeballs. The side of the planet that is always facing Pila’s star is devoid of ice, creating the illusion of a pupil and iris. This warmer section is habitable, so let’s head on down.”

Doog: “Alright, this is Pila’s surface. Despite the unending sunshine on this side of the planet, it’s not too hot. Like most tidally locked planets, there’s big thermal differences between the day and night hemispheres. Strong winds, created by these differing hemispheres, even out the temperature. That was just a long way of saying it is temperate and breezy.”

Galen: “Hey, I thought I heard someone out here. You must be Doog.”
Doog: “The one and only. And you are?”
Galen: “I’m Dr. Galen Alcamaeon.”
Doog: “Doc Alca-mayo is way too hard to say. Galen it is.”
Galen: “That’s fine with me.”
Doog: “So, what do you do here on the surface of this eyeball?”

Galen: “Well, I do lots of things. For starters, I’m a water harvester. Meltwater from Pila’s ice shell is plentiful here on the dayside. The aquifers around here are loaded with pure clean water. I collect it, bottle it, and sell it.”
Doog: “Waterboy. Got it. Really putting that doctorate to work.”
Galen: “More importantly, I’m a researcher, a xenobiologist, and a first contact expert. My doctorates came in handy for this aspect of my job.”
Doog: “Yeah, I might have spoken too soon. Why bother with the water thing, if you have all these other more important jobs?”
Galen: “Water harvesting is easy. It’s mostly automated. Besides that, it’s my primary source of income. Science doesn’t pay the bills unless you make a profitable discovery.”

Doog: “What, hopefully profitable, sciences are you working on?”
Galen: “I’m focusing mostly on biology. Pila has numerous unique species, including a sentient species.”
Doog: “I’m guessing these annoying, growling dog-like things aren’t the sentient beings?”
Galen: “Of course not. I named these Brutalines. They are an aggressive and dangerous species that hunt in packs.”
Doog: “Are they’re afraid of us? Why aren’t we being attacked?”
Galen: “They certainly are not afraid of us. We would be getting mauled right now, if not for they shock barricade.”
Doog: “Shock barricade?”
Galen: “These pylons you see all around us. If an alien creature gets too close, they strike it with an electrical blast. Over the years, they have learned not to come too close. Keep that in mind as we tour this planet. You’re in danger if you’re not by a pylon.”
Doog: “Stay close to shock poles or die gruesome death. I will try to remember.”

Galen: “Pila has an abundance of unique plants. The most dominate are these Pila Trees.”
Doog: “I like their white leaves.”
Galen: “It’s quite striking isn’t it. It serves a purpose too. The white foliage helps reflect back some of the sunlight. Growing in never-ending sunlight is not easy.”

Galen: “The plants are just the beginning of the food chain. Small rodent-like creatures, called Muckrats, eat Pila’s smaller plants.”
Doog: “Must pet cute rats.”
Galen: “NO! Stay by the pylons!”
Doog: “Oops, forgot that already.”

Galen: “Muckrats are the primary food source of the Brutalines. It’s a solid bet that you’ll find Brutalines anytime there’s Muckrats.”
Doog: “Yikes. Thanks for stopping me from petting those little guys. I might have died.”

Galen: “No problem. I just wish I had a guide when I first got here. I might still have my lower legs.”
Doog: “Brutalines ate your legs off!?”
Galen: “Tore them off. Probably ate them. I’m not sure. I passed out.”
Doog: “How are you still alive?”
Galen: “I was saved by the sentient beings. They killed the Brutalines that were attacking me.”
Doog: “It makes you realize how tough the natives must be.”
Galen: “They are strong and fearless. They have pretty good camouflage too. They’re ambush hunters.”
Doog: “I bet I could find one.”
Galen: “You haven’t yet.”
Doog: “We haven’t come across any yet.”
Galen: “You’re wrong. Look up on the ridge there.”

Doog: “I don’t see anything. Oh. Wait. I do. There’s a native up there.”
Galen: “There’s three actually. They’re hard to see when they are still.”

Galen: “We call them the Pili. These masterful hunters are still in the beginning stages of development. They have tools, clothes, and have began domesticating animals. They have a rudimentary language, but no writing system.”
Doog: “Are they friendly? I mean, they saved you, right?”
Galen: “They are friendly to an extent. They saved me when they killed that Brutaline Pack. I like to think they did it to save me, but it was probably because they naturally hunt Brutalines. Their reaction to me was pretty dismissive.”

Galen: “Of course, they have grown more friendly as our interactions increase.”
Doog: “What about me? Are they going to like me?”
Galen: “I’m not sure. Just stay close to the pylons.”
Doog: “The pylons work on the Pili too?”
Galen: “Of course.”
Doog: “Having trails of shock pylons doesn’t disturb the wildlife or natives? You’ve essentially cut their territory in half.”
Galen: “The pylons only activate when in proximity to an off-worlder. They are off otherwise.”

Galen: “The Pili live in social groups of about three to six individuals. Surprisingly, most individuals are not related. These groups are a collection of the best hunters. If you come across a more proficient hunter, you bring them into your group and expel the weakest.”
Doog: “That’s brutal.”
Galen: “It is, but surrounding yourself with the best individuals ensures your safety. This grouping system has driven the evolution of the Pili. Only the strongest survive and breed.”

Doog: “Is that guy in the back the leader? I see he has different markings.”
Galen: “That’s the dominate female. Her body markings change indicating that she is capable of breeding.”
Doog: “Why is she surrounded by Muckrats?”
Galen: “Good question. We believe the Pili are in the early stages of domesticating Muckrats.”
Doog: “For what? Eating? Or as pets?”
Galen: “As bait.”
Doog: “Bait?”
Galen: “Brutalines are attracted to Muckrats, and the Pila eat Brutalines. We believe they are breeding Muckrats to be less timid. If they’ll stay near the den, food will come to the Pili. It’s also advantageous for the Muckrats. They stay safe as long as they are near the Pili.”
Doog: “Interesting.”
Galen: “It is. The Pili truly prize their little Muckrats. They aren’t cheap to trade for.”
Doog: “You trade for Muckrats?”

Galen: “To help advance the Pili and get them ready for galactic inclusion, I’ve been slowly teaching them new concepts. An important part of our galaxy is trade. They must learn trade.”
Doog: “Got it. Uh…Hey! How’s it going Pili.”
Pili: “Who Galen?”
Galen: “This is Doog.”
Pili: “Why dog?”
Doog: “It’s Doog.”
Pili: “Why Doog?”
Doog: “It’s short for McDoogal.”
Galen: “I think he means why are you here. Doog is helping. Helping Galen trade.”
Pili: “Galen trade Doog?”
Galen: “No. Galen no trade Doog. Galen trade coins.”
Pili: “No like coin.”

Galen: “Coin has worth.”
Pili: “Coin not help, Pili.”
Galen: “Coin will help Pili. Pili can buy from Galen with coin in the future.”
Pili: “Galen only have coin. Galen never have help.”
Galen: “When Galen visit in future, Galen bring help.”
Pili: “What Galen help?”
Galen: “Galen bring food. Pili trade coins for food.”
Doog: “I want food and coins. What do I have to do?”
Pili: “Pili want food now.”
Galen: “Pili need more coins for food. Trade now for coin and Galen returns with food.”
Pili: “Pili trade for coin. Pili give Zanchibi.”
Galen: “Two Zanchibi.”
Pili: “One. Pili trade one.”
Galen: “It’s a deal.”
Doog: “I have no idea what’s happening here.”
Galen: “I’m teaching them to trade and to use currency. It will help them and the LIU in the future.”
Doog: “How so?”

Galen: “Eventually, the Pili can take over the water harvesting industry. These are not ideal conditions for outsiders. There’s dangerous wildlife, disruptions to the circadian rhythm, and hosts of other problems. If the natives can take over one day, they can live a prosperous life within the LIU.”
Doog: “Don’t you feel bad training them to be workers? Their life is probably better outside of the LIU’s economic empire.”
Galen: “The LIU will profit from this world regardless of the laborers’ species. The natives will get in the way one of these days, and the LIU will remove them from their lands and tuck them away in some reservation. It’s better to conform than to disappear.”
Doog: “I guess.”

Doog: “What about the workers here now?”
Galen: “They won’t be losing their jobs anytime soon. It will take many years to educate the locals. Besides, most don’t want to be here, surrounded by dangerous creatures. They don’t have any alternatives at the moment.”
Doog: “What do you get out of all of this? You’ll lose your waterboy job, and you said science doesn’t pay.”
Galen: “The LIU will pay if I can train a local workforce. My payday will come when my water harvesting ends.”
Doog: “Well, good luck with that. Hope you keep the rest of your appendages.”
Galen: “Thanks.”

Doog: “Well folks, that’s the story of the eyeball planet, Pila. There are valuable resources here, like fresh, clean meltwater, but it’s a dangerous environment. There’s endless sun, ferocious predators, and brutal, uncultured natives. People like Galen are harvesting these resources despite the danger, but they might not have to do it forever. The natives are being introduced to galactic language and trade. Soon, they might be able to harvest these resources themselves. I just hope no one gets mauled in the meantime. Oh well, see ya!”
 
Note: “Muckrats are not targeted by the Pylon Barrier System because they are no threat to the harvesters. The Muckrats seem to be learning the advantage staying near harvester sites where they are safe from Brutalines. This is aiding in their domestication.”

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the Teloneo Toll Station that’s located in the Mid-Rim just outside of the Gamma Spiral. The station sits at the start of the Teloneo Toll Route, a hyperspace route that’s a shortcut between the Marinjae Hyperspace Route and the Corcot Run. As the name implies, the toll route is not free. You have to pay to enter the route. To stop people from using the route for free, the station has a gravity anchor. It’s that large sphere at the bottom. It can pull a ship out of hyperspace. We’ll have to stop and pay the toll.”

Doog: “I can’t believe there’s a three hour wait time.”
Seitse: “It’s still less time than taking the long way.”
Doog: “You’ve been with us for a month, and you’re already an expert navigator. Typical wife behavior.”
Amaya: “You don’t have to be an expert to realize three hours is shorter than three weeks. And Seitse isn’t your wife!”
Doog: “Yeah, yeah. It was just a joke. Did we ever decide what we’re doing with her?”
Amaya: “I’m thinking about bringing her into the crew. Navigator, co-pilot, or something along those lines.”
Doog: “How can we afford that?”
Amaya: “I’ll worry about that. You just need to worry about doing whatever it is that you do.”
Doog: “Uh, I’m the TV personality. I’m the reason we’re all here.”
Seitse: “Maybe you two should get married. You fight all the time.”
Amaya: “Gross.”
Doog: “Yeah, gross.”

Amaya: “What is taking Oldie so long? I want to use these three hours to do a little shopping.”
Doog: “Oldie is old. Everything takes him longer than it should.”
Cam: “You’re both forgetting the cargo hold incident.”
Doog: “Oh crap! Forgot about that. Don’t strike any deals, Oldie!”
Amaya: “What’s the ‘cargo hold incident’?”
Doog: “Oldie is notoriously cheap. One time, he booked us a trip, and we had to ride in a cargo hold with a bunch of pigs, just to save a few bucks.”
Cam: “Yeah, I bet he’s trying to get a reduced toll by signing us up to be janitors for three hours.”

Oldie: “These people are strict. I couldn’t work out any deals. The toll is a firm two hundred credits.”
Doog: “Phew.”
Amaya: “Alright, we have three hours to kill. Seitse and I are going shopping. Anyone else want to come?”
Oldie: “I’ll tag along. I’m hoping they have pony soup in stock.”

Mike: “I know what Doog and I are doing for three hours. Well, the first fifteen minutes of it, at least. Look what I found on the information kiosk.”
Doog: “What is that? A menu?”
Mike: “Yeah, but look what they’re selling! Top of the list!”
Doog: “Does that say hors?”
Mike: “Yeah! Their spelling is atrocious, but I’m still game.”

Doog: “I’ll race you there!”
Mike: “There’s illiterate hors to pillage!”
Amaya: “They know that says hors d’oeuvres, right?”
Oldie: “I don’t think they do.”
Amaya: “Idiots.”

Amaya: “Maybe shopping can wait. I want to see this embarrassment play out.”
Oldie: “I hope there’s a popcorn stand on the way. This is going to be good.”

Amaya: “Cam, Timbo…you guys coming?”
Cam: “Nah, I think I’m just going to chill here and watch the cargo trains.”
Timbo: “Me too. Doog is an embarrassment all the time. This is nothing new.”

Mike: “Where are they!?”
Doog: “There’s no indication where anything is around here. How do we find anything?”

Mike: “Wait! This has got to be the place! Look at the window decals.”
Doog: “I think you’re right. I don’t see the Presciant word for brothel, but they’re bad spellers, remember?”
Mike: “There’s only one way to find out.”

Oldie: “Maybe they figured it out. They just went into a seafood restaurant.”
Amaya: “I don’t know, but if they didn’t catch on yet…”
Oldie: “…this might go from funny to criminal.”
Amaya: “Exactly.”
Seitse: “The sign says ‘Grandma's Crab Shack’. How could they mix that up with a brothel?”
Amaya: “They don’t read Presciant.”
Seitse: “There’s dancing crabs around the outside of the building.”
Amaya: “They’re unobservant idiots.”
Oldie: “I’ll go to the ATM. We’ll probably need bail money.”

Employee: “Welcome gentlemen. Are you guys here for the crabs?”
Doog: “Wow, most places aren’t so straightforward with that question. I like your honesty.”
Employee: “So…is that a yes?”
Doog: “Absolutely, bring on the crabs. I just had my medication refilled, so I’ll be fine.”
Employee: “Uh…ok. Will you be together?”
Doog: “Eww! Not a chance. We’re separate.”

Employee: “Alright sir, is a public table ok, or would you like a private room?”
Doog: “A public table? Heck no. I want the private room. No one needs to see what I’m about to do.”
Mike: “I want a private room too.”
Employee: “I’m sorry. There’s only one private room open at this time.”
Doog: “Looks like you’re going to have to wait, buddy.”
Mike: “How long of a wait is it?”
Employee: “It might be a few hours. There’s a party of twelve in there.”
Doog: “A party of twelve! Yikes!”
Mike: “Gross. I don’t want a room after a party of twelve. Doog, let me in your room.”
Doog: “What! No way!”
Mike: “We can figure something out.”
Doog: “Fine. We’ll take the private room together. But for the record, we’re not together. And we want separate goods. We don’t want to share.”
Employee: “So, private room, party of two, but you are not together. Got it. Let’s get you in there, and get you those crabs.”

Employee: “Here you are. I’m going to go and grab some wine. I’ll be right back.”
Doog: “Bring a friend with you. We don’t want to share, remember?”
Employee: “You want two separate servers?”
Doog: “Servers…I like that title. Yes. Two servers, please.” 

Doog: “How is this going to work!?”
Mike: “We need some ground rules. Firstly, no sounds. I don’t want to hear what you’re doing over there.”
Doog: “Agreed. What about the visual situation? Do we face separate walls or something? Maybe close our eyes?”
Mike: “Eyes closed, I think.”
Doog: “Alright. Eyes-closed and no sounds. You stay over there, and I’ll stay over here.”
Mike: “Deal. Let’s close our eyes now. I want to get undressed.”

Employee: “I brought some…WHAT IN THE WORLD!”
Doog: “Ladies, we have an eyes-closed situation going on. You are going to have to come to us.”
Employee: “SICKOS! WHY ARE YOU NAKED!!”
Guy: “Call for security!”
Mike: “Wait, what for? And who ordered a guy?”
Doog: “Aren’t people supposed to be naked in brothels? Is Mike really ugly naked or something? Also, the guy voice is scaring me too.”
Employee: “THIS ISN’T A BROTHEL, YOU DISGUSTING FREAKS! THIS IS A SEAFOOD RESTAURANT!”
Mike: “Uh…I see how this might be awkward.”
Doog: “I should have guessed by the crab comment. They never warn you ahead of time.”

Mike: “It’s over for us. Indecent exposure. Security literally caught us with our pants down.”
Doog: “Jail isn’t that bad if you remember a few rules. Don’t drop the soap, shank the first guy you see, and never, never, never play hide the pickle. I don’t know how they conned me into that one, but that game is not nearly as fun as it sounds.”

Security: “Are your friends really that stupid?”
Oldie: “We have hundreds of hours of footage as evidence.”
Security: “Well, despite the disturbing visual the employees witnessed, no real damage seems to have been done. As long as you compensate the restaurant for the private room and their cleaning cost, I think we’ll let your friends go free. They are banned from Teloneo Toll Station for life, though.”
Amaya: “Fair enough.”
Security: “You may want to compensate the victims as well. They aren’t taking this well.”

Employee: “I can’t get rid of the visual. I just want to burn the eyes out of my head!”
Guy: “It was like a scene from a horror movie. I won’t sleep for weeks.”
Amaya: “Give them the bail money, Oldie.”
Oldie: “All of it?”
Amaya: “Yes. All of it. Those poor people.”

Mike: “I don’t want to go to a place where I have to tell people I don’t want to play ‘Hide the Pickle’. I think I might cry.”
Amaya: “Well, you two bozos lucked out this time. I talked security into cutting your sentence in half. You only have to do six years.”
Doog: “Six years!”
Mike: “Nooo!”
Amaya: “Just kidding. We just had to pay some fines and reimburse the victims. No biggie.”
Doog: “You don’t sound mad?”
Amaya: “Are you kidding? I bought the security footage of the whole incident. This is definitely becoming an episode. Hilarious stuff!”
Doog: “Can we not do that?”
Amaya: “Can you reimburse me a thousand credits?”
Doog: “No. Probably not. I want to save the few credits I have left to find the hors. Mike and I won’t get the wrong place this time.”
Amaya: “It’s hors d’oeuvres, not whores! Also, you’re banned from here for life. We’re taking you back to the ship.”
Doog: “Dang it. Fine.”

Doog: “Well folks, that’s the Teloneo Toll Station. You come here to pay tolls in order to use the Teloneo Toll Route. Beware of the false advertising around the station, though. You might make a tiny little mistake like Mike and I did. The businesses here need signs indicating they are not brothels! How can you tell otherwise? It takes a toll on you. Get it, toll! Oh well. See ya!”
 
 
Note: By default, Doog and Mike are banned from Teloneo Toll Station #2, which sits at the other end of the hyperspace route.

Doog: “Welcome to another episode of LIU Atlas. I’m your host, Terrance “Doog” McDoogal. Today, we’re visiting the Amplecti System, a set of binary asteroids in the Opifex Sector. These asteroids, Eurydice and Orpheus, orbit each other as they orbit their star. Their gravitational embrace is now permanent due to artificial structures linking them together. These structures are home to a mining colony. Let’s head inside and check it out.”

Doog: “Alright folks, I’m inside a mining facility on the asteroid, Eurydice. I can immediately tell that this place doesn’t have a lot of funding. It’s too cold in here. I’m guessing that proper heating must be too expensive. And, I can feel the asteroids’ spin, meaning there’s insufficient inertia dampeners.”

Doog: “Also, all the people I’ve run across look like this guy. Are you my guide?”
Guy: “D’pends. What’s it pay?”
Doog: “It pays nothing. You show me around out of the goodness of your heart.”
Guy: “Sounds too similar to my current job. And…yer uglier than my current co-workers. So, I’m a gonna pass. Good luck finding someone, dirtball.”
Doog: “Hey! Who are you calling a dirtball?!”

DK: “Calm down. Calm down. He means no offense. Dirtball is a term of endearment around here. The dirt miners call each other dirtballs.”
Doog: “So you wouldn’t be offended if I called you a ‘dirtball’?”
DK: “I wouldn’t be too offended, although technically, I’m the Dirt King.”
Doog: “Dirt King?”
DK: “Yes. I’m Aristaeus, head of the mining operations on Amplecti System. Everyone calls me Dirt King or D.K. for short.”
Doog: “I’m in the presence of dirt royalty, huh? I’m not sure if I should be impressed.”
DK: “There’s not a lot of upward mobility in the dirt mines, so, for me to reach the pinnacle, I would say that’s impressive. Speaking of being on top, let’s get this tour started. I don’t have much time.”

DK: “There’s two mining stations in the Amplecti System. There’s a facility on both Eurydice and Orpheus. Each facility can hold twenty thousand workers, but neither is at capacity at this moment. The number of workers present depends on the labor demands of the rest of the Opifex Sector.”
Doog: “How so?”
DK: “As you may or may not know, the Opifex Sector is a collection of approximately one hundred highly industrialized worlds in close proximity. A centralized hub, known as the Otiosus Station, coordinates labor exchanges between these worlds.”
Doog: “Yeah. I’ve been there. They move workers around. Demand goes down on one world, the workers are picked up and taken to a planet with labor shortages.”
DK: “Exactly. There’s a catch though. Sometimes, there’s not another planet for the workers to go. When there are extra workers with no where to go, they come here. Think of the Amplecti System as the Opifex Labor Overflow.”
Doog: “We have nothing for you to do, so go dig dirt.”
DK: “More or less.”

DK: “Regolith and dirt have many uses, from farming to construction. Generally, it’s cheaper to
acquire dirt from your own planet. It costs too much to have it shipped in.”
Doog: “No one wants to pay too much for dirt. Got it.”
DK: “Yes. The Amplecti System has a few advantages though. Its weak gravity well means there’s a lower escape velocity for cargo ships. There’s little shipping cost. Also, we have access to low wage workers. We can sell dirt for profit.”
Doog: “Lucky you. I feel for these not so lucky workers, though.”
DK: “It’s not an ideal job, but it’s better than being unemployed. Besides, most of the workers are here temporarily. If they work hard here, they’ll get shipped elsewhere when a spot opens up.”

Doog: “Yeah, but it looks like they live in squalor while they’re here. The rooms don’t even have doors.”
DK: “Housing is meant to be temporary. We don’t want workers getting settled in or personalizing the dorm.”
Doog: “I didn’t know doors were “personalization’.”
DK: “Sigh. We also need to be cheap. We have a very small profit window.”
Doog: “Speaking of cheap, this spin sensation is giving me nausea. Turn up the inertia dampeners.”
DK: “Very small profit window. Very small. You’ll get used to the spin. Everyone does.”

DK: “This is the airlock. Workers prep here before entering Eurydice.”
Doog: “Entering?”
DK: “Yeah, we don’t mine the surface. We’re mining the asteroid from the inside.”
Doog: “Why?”
DK: “It’s cheaper. Workers don’t need full environmental suits. We keep the inside pressurized, so they just need rebreathers. Rebreathers are cheap. We also have a community system where the rebreathers are shared. At the end of your shift, you hand off your rebreather to the next worker.”
Doog: “Ew, nasty.”
DK: “It can be. Face herpes is prevalent here.”

DK: “Well, let’s get suited up.”
Doog: “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What about the face herpes?”
DK: “It’s a roll of the dice.”
Doog: “Ah, who am I kidding. The person using this after me has a lot more to worry about.”

Doog: “I can smell the face herpes in this thing. Yuck!”
DK: “I didn’t want to say anything earlier, but I think that’s your breath.”
Doog: “I…uh…let’s start this tour.”

DK: “We’re now inside Eurydice.”
Doog: “Dang! It’s cold in here.”
DK: “Just give it a few minutes. When Eurydice spins towards its star, it’ll heat up.”
Doog: “Dang! You’re right. It’s hot in here.”
DK: “You’ll get used to the fluctuations eventually. Follow me.”

DK: “Each facility has three dorms, A, B, and C. Each dorm is connected to an internal cavern within the asteroids. We mine from within these caverns.”
Doog: “I can’t listen to you talk. The spin is getting worse.”
DK: “There’s almost no inertia dampeners inside the caverns. There’s little gravity too. Make sure you stay on this grav-path.”
Doog: “Grav-path?”
DK: “Yeah. The path is the only thing with artificial gravity.”

Doog: “The Escher-like sidewalks are not helping the nausea.”
DK: “We have to make use of the low gravity. It allows us to mine Eurydice’s interior evenly.”

DK: “Watch out! There’s a mine train crossing!”
Doog: “I see it. I see it.”
DK: “You almost stepped right in front of it.”
Doog: “As bad as nausea is, I’m not suicidal…yet. I’m just a little dizzy.”
DK: “Maybe we should wrap this up.”
Doog: “No, it’s ok. I didn’t contract face herpes for half an episode. What are we seeing here?”

DK: “Just some standard dirt mining and a mine train carrying dirt.”
Doog: “How is the dirt staying in the cars without gravity?”
DK: “The same way you’re standing here. Artificial gravity.”
Doog: “Hmm. That’s good enough for me. Looks like we have a full episode now. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to pass ou…”

Doog: “Whoa. Where am I?”
DK: “You passed out. I dragged you onto the mine train. We’ll be at Dorm B in a few minutes. We’ll get you out of the mine as soon as possible.”
Doog: “I feel a lot better already.”
DK: “I don’t think it was the spin, gravity, or temperature fluctuations. You didn’t have your oxygen turned up high enough. You were breathing too heavily for that low of a rate.”
Doog: “Oh, good. Being out of shape strikes again.”

DK: “This is Dorm B. Just take the tunnel behind you back to the Mining Station.”
Doog: “You’re not coming with me?”
DK: “Nope. I have to get back to Dorm C. I’m going to take a short cut. Nice to meet you.”
Doog: “Wait, did you fix my regulator?!”

Doog: “And, he’s leaving. Great. Well folks, that’s the Amplecti System. There are two asteroids spinning around each other. Emphasis on the spinning. These asteroids have cheap dirt. Surplus workers, from around the Opifex Sector, are shipped here to mine dirt when they don’t have anything better to do. Now, it’s time for me to get back before I pass out again. See ya!”
 
 
Note:  Doog passed out fourteen steps later, but was rescued by his fellow dirtballs. He is expected to make a full recovery.