I Smell the Smelly Smell of Something Smelly!

Recently, Ed, one of my fans of the Blog, stated that I should come up with some way to get the froggies into space without a ship.

-.-

Now where’s the story in that? I wanted the problems associated with lifting all that water up not only up from the depths, but breaching the surface, and then higher into the atmosphere, and ultimately out of the gravity well, and into space itself. No space warps, wormholes, or hyperspace for these little froggies!

He did, however, bring up a good point. Since they are aquatic and breath the water they live in, they also would defecate (and urinate) in their breathing supply. Yum-o!

“What’s that smell/taste?” Everyone turned and glared at Ecru-Dandelion. He gave a half-smile.
“Dude. Seriously?”
“Soz.”
“That’s fifteen times in the past half hour. Once more and you’re on permanent EVA duty!”

So no bean burritos here! But that does bring up the problem of producing an air scrubber (water scrubber actually—but you get the idea.). Would they have carbon? Probably not. No fire—no burn substance to filter the water through. Sand? Sort of like the under gravel filters we’ve had in prior aquariums? Yes, I have an aquarium—my wife’s 20 gallon long. Yes, I look over my shoulder at it from time to time as I write this. No, I don’t have any African Dwarf Frogs (aquarium frogs). Just fish. Yes, it is fresh water and the Garums live in salt water, so there will be differences. Salt water . . . what takes nastiness out of salt water? Suspension feeders! But we couldn’t have a bunch of krill floating around, getting in the way. So we’d need a sessile suspension feeder. Barnacles! (Our ship just got crustier…) They would filter out “floaters” that would foul the water. The Garums, of course, would selectively breed a more effective barnacle that weighs less than the original product—and does not breed/spread in such a prolific manner as to take over the whole inside of the ship. They would also probably come up with some substance that if spread in a thin layer where the Garum don’t want the barnacles to grow would inhibit them from attaching in those unwanted places, just to be on the safe side.

But what about urine? That causes lots of problems with ammonia and other toxins in the water. So we’d need a biological filter. You have to be able to cycle the ammonia (NH³ or NH³+4) into nitrites (NO²) and then into nitrates (NO³). We’d need some type of beneficial bacteria to help in this process, but they’d need some place to grow. So we’d need a rocky surface that is porous where they (the bacteria) would be able to live, yet be out of the way. Again, we’re adding more mass to the ship.

And we haven’t even come up with an engine concept yet . . . we’re still just filling out life support. We also have to provide sustenance. Do they have refrigeration? They certainly can’t have dried stores. Or do they carry it live? If so, there’s more mass—plus the mass for the food for their food. And the mass for the food for the food for that food. Eventually we’re going to get to a point where it is a plant that just needs photosynthesis for food. But in the dark of space, where do you get the sunlight for that? Will their synthetic light from their bioluminescence be adequate for their purpose? Will they be capable of creating a power source capable of lifting this massive ship into the stars? Will they invent an aquatic Beano before Ecru-Dandelion gets lynched?

Mental Floss

OK, tonight we're just going to have some random thoughts on the story--stuff that came to mind after I hit "Publish," and other things.

First of all, when the two females were discussing the males, and one said that she feared the two were ready to mate, and the other agreed, I thought afterwards that the first could have added the snarky comment, "More's the pity we couldn't get them to mate with each other." And then the other would have scented her own giggle to the conversation.

The name of the planet (in their tongue) is Water. It is "said" by their skin cycling through every shade of the color blue. Think about it--how quickly can you say blue? That is how quickly their skin cycles through all the shades and variations of blue.

We have an exomoon orbiting a gas giant exoplanet orbiting a binary star. The gas giant orbits the primary star. The exomoon is tidally locked to the gas giant. Between the light reflecting from the gas giant, and the light coming from the two stars (although, the secondary star is much dimmer than the light coming from the primary) the face of the exomoon towards the exoplanet is always illuminated. The rare exception is during solar eclipses. With the exoplanet being so large in the sky, how much of a corona will be visible around it? The flip side of this (no pun intended) is that the side away from the exoplanet is dark for large periods of time. This causes quite a bit of wind as the atmosphere on the lighted (warm) side swaps out with that of the dark (cold) side.

Also, with such a large planet being the parent, in addition to two stars, what kind of tidal forces will be in effect on this exomoon? It is almost 80% water covered. So tides most likely will be far greater than on Terra.

The exomoon is close to Terra in size. It has an atmosphere, but the sentient race never came out of the water because of the horrific winds that whip around the planet due to the differences in temperatures from light to dark side--not totally dark, but dark enough long enough for ice caps to form in the months that the surface faces away from light sources.

When the ice caps break up as a star begins to light that side, occasionally bergs break off and float over inhabited areas of the planetary side. Perhaps some type of mythology forms with the people around these bergs. There will also be the possible danger of living areas being scraped up by the underside of a particularly large berg drifting into shallow areas.

Would the Garum feel the need to create any type of buildings? Perhaps. They would need to protect possessions from currents and tides. But would they need homes? Or just warehouse type buildings? Office buildings? A big pineapple-shaped house? Hardly...

On Making Them Wiggle

So it is time to actually start writing, not just think about it. Mind you, this is the very beginning of writing--just off the cuff and out of my head. (Out of my mind--back in a few!) This is not a final draft--this is not even a rough draft. This is just where the writing starts. You sit down to a blank page and an inviting keyboard and let your mind flow.

There will be bumps. There will be interruptions. There will be bathroom breaks. There will be noobs to kill in Mafia Wars. There will be--OOH! Shiny! Er, ahem. There will be things to take your mind off of the task at hand--the task being taking the concept of the Garums and bringing them to life.

"It's alive!"

Without any further preamble, I give you, the Garum.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Khaki-Indigo-Myrtle sighed, looking around the base-camp. She hoped this was all worth it. She’d been through all the old tales from the medicine women and dream weavers of old—everything she could find about Up. No one in recent memory had breached Up. Yet here they were in the shallows, mere strokes away from breaching it.

It was told in tales from yore that it had been done—done and ne’er again. Tales of a gas hurled at the faces of the original breachers with such a force as to rip the skin from their faces.

Her reverie was broken as two males grabbed each other by the front feet. They began swirling about in the water, gnashing their teeth in each other’s face.

“I eat you!” they cried at one another as the test of dominance from eons ago continued in this modern mock dance of wills.

“Why don’t you two chowderheads go forage us up some food,” said Jonquil-Ochre-Alizarin-Navy, emitting a scent of disgust. The two males broke apart, blinking as they caught the scent. Their scent of chagrin floated before them.

“We are but ‘Wogs,” they mumbled in apology as they swam past her. Within a few strokes, though, they were back at it, smacking each other in the side as they continued swimming towards the kelp bed where the best hunting lay.

“I fear those two are ready to mate,” said Jonquil-Ochre-Alizarin-Navy as she swam over to Khaki-Indigo-Myrtle.

“Aye, I smell you are right,” she agreed. She tilted her body to look once more at Up. “Are we right in trying this?” she asked. “Or are we tempting the gods as the Elders say?”

“Surely you don’t believe in that old Wog’s scent,” said Jonquil-Ochre-Alizarin-Navy. “There is no such thing as the gods. You can’t tell the future though the intestines of fish, either. The future is what it is, and we cannot foresee it until it happens.” She put one hand on the shoulder of Khaki-Indigo-Myrtle. “Don’t doubt yourself. You have researched this through and through. There are no more tales to smell, no more dreams to seek. You have dreamed and smelled them all. They all lead to you going Up.”

“But what if they are wrong? What if it is all a dream, and poking my nose out Up can kill me? What then?”

“Then you are dead and the crabs have a feast on your carcass—and I shall put your Magnetic Note Tablet to better use in your absence.” She pushed Khaki-Indigo-Myrtle playfully away, scenting humor.

“Oh, funny. Very funny,” said Khaki-Indigo-Myrtle, scenting humor/sarcasm. She retilted to look Up. “I wonder what causes that flickering of the light in Up,” she pondered. “The records of the tales are so . . . unscented . . . you know?”

Jonquil-Ochre-Alizarin-Navy scented agreement. “I know. And then there is that one that says were are to avoid Up, ‘For the day you forsake this is the day you shall surely die,’” she quoted. “We shall find out soon enough if it is right, or if it is a stench.”

“That we shall,” said Khaki-Indigo-Myrtle. “After one sleep we shall see.” They swam back to the middle of the base camp to assist the others in setting up the electronics and supplies, while waiting for the two aggressive males to return with their hunting results.

On Giving the Garum Flesh

Let’s shy away from bug fixing at the moment and deal with the Garum themselves. Remembering that this is just shooting out basic ideas for the moment—we’re not even in to the rough draft yet—we’ll flesh them out, so to speak. I have decided that they will parallel frogs quite extensively, with gills, however, instead of lungs.

Being aquatic, they do not stand vertically, but swim along horizontally. So there is no need to have anything such as chairs, or even beds.

Two arms, two legs, webbed fingers & toes, but with opposable thumbs not restricted by webbing. Trying to decide if they have minor suckers on the tips of their fingers & toes along the lines of tree frogs. If so, why would they have them? Will ponder this.

Their heads face forward and are incapable of looking down like we can. Why would they need to? Aligned horizontally, there would be no need for it. If they need to see down, they would swim themselves into an up/down alignment.

Omnivorous, of course. I want creatures that crave flesh—no grazing herd beasts my aliens! Their mouths have razor sharp teeth for cutting and ripping flesh, in addition to molars for grinding. Back in the Garum’s equivalent of medieval times, when the mating fight between males was over, the loser was consumed by the victor. This is alluded to in some idioms in their language.

They have large frog-like eyes that see quite well. Remember that we decided the waters in this exomoon are crystal clear down to a fairly good depth, such as in the Caribbean. They do communicate with flashes of color that flicker across their bodies in rapid succession in the same manner that some cephalopods are able to transform their skin colors. In addition, they emit scents to the surrounding water to augment the color-changing “speech.” I believe we’ll use this they way humans use facial expressions to augment our speech. That way a certain smell would be a smile, another a sarcastic grimace, another a frown.

Alas, because of this limited range “speech,” yelling for help is not part of their understanding. Yelling, shouting, bellowing . . . long distance communication is beyond them.

Lifespan is roughly 40-50 years, but can be shorter. They mate once, after which the speed at which they age increases dramatically. (No rationale behind that. It just happens.) They mate the same way frogs do—the female lays thousands of eggs with the male attached to her back, his arms & legs wrapped around her. She lays several thousand eggs as he ejects sperm into the water over the eggs. Dropping apart after, within days they die. So the decision to mate is taken very seriously.

Out of those thousands of eggs, perhaps several hundred actually got fertilized and then hatch. Out of the pollywogs that hatch, only a few dozen make it to adolescence. Out of those, only ten or so make it to adulthood. The ‘wogs don’t live within the community, but swim freely, braving the hardships of predators and natural items such as injury, or anemones on their own.

Naming is done by the individual upon attaining leg status (adulthood). It is based on colors they like. So you will have names along the lines of Red-Orange-Yellow ,or Khaki-Aqua-Taupe-Harlequin. Usually, males select shorter color combinations, while the females select more grandiose collections.

Because the young are free swimming, and mating turns fatal, there is no family unit. The males are larger, more warlike. The females are smaller, more agile, and quicker of thought. While the male’s instant reaction is to smash the obstacle, the female will take time to think it through. Both have quick tempers, but the male will turn to instant violence, while the female will think deeply of a way to prolong her retaliation.

The deep thinkers are mostly females. Although, there is an occasional male prodigy.

Garum Bug Fix, or "How I Made Electrical Frogs"

Meh.

Enough with the Megalomaniac-In-Chief. Let’s get back to the froggies.

Last we left our Garum, we were trying to decide how they made electricity in an underwater environment. Perhaps we can have some type of an electric producing algae and have them improve its output through selective breeding?

There are already algae that produce bioluminescence. Bioelectrogenesis from a plant is possible in an alien ecology. The Terran electric eels is capable of 500 volts at 1 amp. Our algae should be more than capable of topping that in the voltage and amperage needed to run the Garum’s industry. So we put it in a box-like container made out of the non-conductive mucus plates from that mollusk we brought up last month. And the wiring we solved with the seaweed that conducted the electricity from the alien equivalent of an electric eel (which on Earth is not an eel, but a member of the knifefish family).

We take the super electrical slime and stuff it in a mucus box and hook seaweed up to it. Do we let it last for a long time? Or does it have a short life like a battery? Perhaps we have to swap them out from time to time? But the tired ones can be “recharged” with a fructose solution? An algae’s gotta eat, natch! Or better yet, old technology had to be swapped out, box after box. But new tech has a fructose IV that drips (feeds?) the box of algae. Yeah, baby! Slime Power!

On to the problem of our handicapped froggies. So they looked at the star’s corona during an eclipse and went blind. For us, that would not be totally crippling in communication. We could still talk and hear. But the Garum communicate with sight and scent. They use their skin to flash various colors and augment it with scents released into the water. So how would we work around this handicap?

Perhaps we can have a mutualism pairing with some type of remora? You know—those weird, upside down seeming fish that you usually see swimming under sharks? But these remora have a side benefit for the Garums. First, the remora get the benefit of the safety of swimming with the Garum, plus they eat bacteria off of the Garum’s skin. In return, they vibrate a certain way when a nearby Garum turns a certain shade of color. So through selective breeding and extensive training (for both the remora and for the Garum) they turn into effective “hearing” aids.

Oh, bother. I just thought of another problem. During the expedition to the surface (or in this case, the “Shallows” and they stood up enough to look into the sky—actual words and concepts for these items to be selected later) we had decided that they look directly at the star during the eclipse and were struck blind by the corona’s intense light.

So we have an expedition of now blind froggies.

How’d they get back?

Oh, bother!

But wait, there’s more!

OK, so we can kill the six billion dollar budget for NASA as useless, but Obama approves a SEVEN billion dollar budget for nuclear weapons research? What’s up with this? Is he about to name himself “President For Life”? Or perhaps he’s just going to start calling himself “World Emperor.”

Didn’t he intend to improve the world’s perception of the United States? He wanted to dissipate anti-Americanism around the world, showing them that we were not a, “nutty, dictating superpower.”

What happened to the Saccharin man in the Whitehouse, bowing down to foreign dignitaries? Is it all over? Was all that hobnobbing just for show? Will we now start nuking the opposition?

Or is he reserving those new nukes for use on his adversaries here in America?

Perhaps he is just suffering from Multiple Personality Disorder.

Or should we be on the lookout for Obama’s False Prophet?

NASA Bites the Dust; Thank You, Obama!

Before we get back to the froggies, let me go off on a minor rant here.

See, that bonehead in the Whitehouse (who has now lost any scrap of respect he might have garnered from my corner of the world,) decided to cank NASA’s budget.

Huh. So space travel is not important in the grand plan of handing out money to banks and welfare recipients, who, here in my state, went in to Wally World today to buy groceries with her food stamps card, and then went out to the parking lot and put her groceries in the back of a $60,000 Lexus—but I digress.

Let’s see . . . NASA was to get $6,000,000,000. Now compared to the grand total of what the socialist in the Whitehouse intends to spend—a whopping $3,830,000,000,000, that puts NASA’s budget at .0015 percent. That’s way less than one penny on the dollar. I must not be very good at math. I don’t see how this can be too much money to spend on space exploration.

But let’s get away from the monetary value for the moment. Let’s look at future benefits for mankind that will be missed out on. I mean, c’mon—where would we be without Velcro? Oh, don’t get snarky on me. There was mush more than Velcro to come out of the space program. Your home computer is one aspect. What else?

Laser surveying tools
Compact Digital Discs (CDs and DVDs)
Scratch resistant lenses
Dustbusters
Home security systems
Smoke detectors
Flat panel TVs/monitors
High density batteries
Trash compactors
Freeze dried food technology
Sports bras
Quartz crystal time pieces
Solar energy panels
Noise abatement technology
Energy saving air conditioning technology
Air purification technology
Laser angioplasty
Ultrasound scanners
Automatic insulin pumps
Portable X-ray devices
MRIs
Self locking nuts
Wireless communications (your cellphone)
Emergency rescue cutters (Jaws of life-type equipment)
Doppler radar
Firefighter’s radios
Fire protective clothing
Robotic arms

The list goes on and on. But it seems that we can’t afford those measly pennies on the dollar because it would take away from his pet projects—like a high speed rail system for California. Hmm, people quit using the train already because it was too expensive. So we’re going to make it run faster (in another 20 years or so—that’s how long it will take to create this “green” monstrosity!) and then we’ll have to subsidize it like we’re already doing with freight rails. So, there you go! No space for money to be spent on the space program! I’m starting to see it from a green point of view. But what do I know?

I can hear the Green Police knocking on my door for wrong thinking now. Go ‘way! No one here but us Droogs.