Zeo Genesis Travelogues
Greetings, star-nomads! You can call me Trev. (You can also call me Trevallion Franklin-Ridgeway III, but I’d rather you didn’t). I’ve left behind my shallow executive existence to explore the Hundred Suns, to re-connect with insignificant voiders just like you. These are my travels. You’re welcome.
“Pain in the piss-pipe, it was! For over a week I couldn’t get anyone to believe Overgrowth exists, let alone take me. It’s a region of space I’ve seen with my own eyes. Well, as good as, I’ve seen vidmems. I won this z-link, that’s what she called it, from the delightful “Overgrowth” Olive. She wore it during an expedition there. Unfortunately, as soon as we fixed it, the bracer-like device fused around my forearm, meaning no one else can see the vidmems. Still, I’ve managed to make it capture broadcastable stills via my eyeballs, so that’s something.”
“My feet grew itchier than a Putian rashmite infestation, so here I am, in the frozen expanse of Chemical Valley. My Masterwoman camper van is built for extreme environments and while grav-tech is prohibited here due to atmospheric damage—part of what keeps it so untouched and mysterious—bouncing through the landscape at speed is a grand time. Let’s offroad!”
“On that leftward ridge there’s a stunning vista to be had. Better not risk the van so I’ll brave the blizzard. The guide pamphlet said to put the provided helmet on whenever leaving the vehicle, probably due to the cold or something. Unengaging prose: DNF.”
“Hardly frostbiting out here and I walked a good ten minutes to this ridge. Breathtaking view and no helmet visor to impede my eyeball photography. Better return…”
“Oh, other people. Quite a lot! Seemingly lost, approaching me for directions, recognizing a clearly experienced outdoorsman. Unsurprising, really, they’re wearing hundred-year-old explorer gear. Hardly the wisest place for historical re-enactment!”
“Greeting—Oh gods, your face! All of them! And lack-thereofs!”
“Arrgh! Need to get to the camper! Where is it? Lost the bugger in this snowstorm. Funt, they’re closing in. Just keep moving…”
“Hang on, that’s… a zeo? A mining zeo? A translucent mining zeo? Out here? It’s waving me over, damn sight friendlier than these monsters. Heading your way!”
“Wait, there it is! The camper! Just keep sprinting, I can feel them grasping, can’t afford to look back.”
“I’m in! Gods, the door—so are they! Where’s the helmet, need more protection. Never mind toxicity warnings and vapor-venting alerts, just keep my head attach… They’re disappearing!”
“...”
“Now I’ve stopped shaking enough to drive, I’m barrelling out of here, forget sightseeing. Wait, on that hilltop… is that the saintly zeo?”
“Stay trippy, star-nomads…”
- Chemical Valley
- Length: 2,230 kilomiks
- Average Temperature: -62.2°ArC
- Conditions: Year-round deep snow passing over glaciers at four places. Near-constant snowing, sleet, and very frequent blizzards. Variable and mostly unstudied natural gas releases from fissures, some combinations believed hazardous to human life.
- Tourists legally banned from entry
- 9 people missing or killed in region per local year on average
- Cross-ref: Barley-Gallant Expedition Disaster, Barley-Gallant Expedition Rescue Disaster, Second Barley-Gallant Expedition Rescue Disaster, Third Barley-Gallant Expedition Rescue Disaster.
These journals were recorded via Tymphony Aural Augmetics… TAA: Listen Up!
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