inhabited. The type of mud bog they favored was widely scattered throughout most habitable land areas. The bogs were odd geographical formations, oval to circular, and anywhere from six meters to kilometers across. The infrared scanners had analyzed a few, and some contained one or more warm blooded somethings beneath the surface.
More Borgs?
As she looked at the data, she thought she could see a regular pattern of distribution to the bogs, a neat spacing. Strange. There was a subheading under the checkpoint: ‘Regular spacing irrespective of geology.’ As a check, she consulted ‘Alternatives to Intelligent Creation.’ There it was... ‘Geographical formations resulting from a meteor shower,’ that was probably it. She would have to ask the geologists. Hadn’t they said there weren’t many impacts on Iago? She e-mailed a note to the division requesting more careful measurements. She made sure her name wasn’t on it, just in case Straiss read such things. She refused to do anything that might help Fish’s dream for her come true.
She wondered if a Borg slimed at the bottom of every mud bog. If so, Borg was a striking exception to the rule of regionalization of species on Iago. There were mud bogs on every nook of every continent, according to the survey. Her eyes squinted as she thought about it. Mud is not universally available. It takes both dirt and water to form a good bog. The environment of Iago was wetter than Earth’s for the most part, but there were still scattered desert areas. She accessed the desert surveys. As expected, the mud bogs stopped at desert edges. But on telescopic examination, there were regularly spaced sand pits in some desert areas, tunnel-like constructions in others. A few had warm-blooded somethings hidden beneath.
Imelda squelched a growing excitement. If this data was truly indicative of the geographical spread of the bog creatures, then they were a highly successful life form. What was that other subheading? ‘Variant structure based upon local resources.’ Alternative explanation: ‘Separation of individual populations over lengthy periods resulting in evolutionary variance.’ She hadn’t seen any traveling Borgs or any roads to help them travel, so this explanation sounded good to her. Other alternative? ‘Different species.’ An even better explanation.
She rubbed her eyes. She needed a cigarette. She glanced at the workstation next to her, where a lone coworker sat. A name intruded into her consciousness and said Camille. A sure sense of rationality told her that Camille’s didn’t smoke and didn’t like people who smoked either. She would have to wait until she was back at her own apartme nt. She’d risk a quick break now, but ‘he’ wasn’t here. She’d better get as much work done as she could before ‘he’ returned, while she still had functioning neurons.
She muttered to herself. Her thoughts felt sluggish. She had been drinking too much booze lately. With an effort, she forced herself to concentrate.
So, the bogs were everywhere. The concept of Borgs scattered everywhere was disgusting. Assuming that Borgs or near-Borgs had something to do with the mud pits, what about when the mud froze? Did Borgs hibernate? With their worms? Could they live in cold climates? They were warm-blooded, at least some of them. They should be able to survive.
She did a quick look at polar surveys. The axis of Iago IV was not tilted like earth’s and there was no seasonal variation in climate. There were large ice caps at the poles of the planet which remained stably frozen. There, the infrared scanners detected a few warm -blooded somethings in a regular distribution beneath the ice, presumably more mud beasts, only substituting powdered snow for mud.
Imelda sat back , shaking her head. If she was right, then these creatures were extremely adaptable
More Borgs?
As she looked at the data, she thought she could see a regular pattern of distribution to the bogs, a neat spacing. Strange. There was a subheading under the checkpoint: ‘Regular spacing irrespective of geology.’ As a check, she consulted ‘Alternatives to Intelligent Creation.’ There it was... ‘Geographical formations resulting from a meteor shower,’ that was probably it. She would have to ask the geologists. Hadn’t they said there weren’t many impacts on Iago? She e-mailed a note to the division requesting more careful measurements. She made sure her name wasn’t on it, just in case Straiss read such things. She refused to do anything that might help Fish’s dream for her come true.
She wondered if a Borg slimed at the bottom of every mud bog. If so, Borg was a striking exception to the rule of regionalization of species on Iago. There were mud bogs on every nook of every continent, according to the survey. Her eyes squinted as she thought about it. Mud is not universally available. It takes both dirt and water to form a good bog. The environment of Iago was wetter than Earth’s for the most part, but there were still scattered desert areas. She accessed the desert surveys. As expected, the mud bogs stopped at desert edges. But on telescopic examination, there were regularly spaced sand pits in some desert areas, tunnel-like constructions in others. A few had warm-blooded somethings hidden beneath.
Imelda squelched a growing excitement. If this data was truly indicative of the geographical spread of the bog creatures, then they were a highly successful life form. What was that other subheading? ‘Variant structure based upon local resources.’ Alternative explanation: ‘Separation of individual populations over lengthy periods resulting in evolutionary variance.’ She hadn’t seen any traveling Borgs or any roads to help them travel, so this explanation sounded good to her. Other alternative? ‘Different species.’ An even better explanation.
She rubbed her eyes. She needed a cigarette. She glanced at the workstation next to her, where a lone coworker sat. A name intruded into her consciousness and said Camille. A sure sense of rationality told her that Camille’s didn’t smoke and didn’t like people who smoked either. She would have to wait until she was back at her own apartme nt. She’d risk a quick break now, but ‘he’ wasn’t here. She’d better get as much work done as she could before ‘he’ returned, while she still had functioning neurons.
She muttered to herself. Her thoughts felt sluggish. She had been drinking too much booze lately. With an effort, she forced herself to concentrate.
So, the bogs were everywhere. The concept of Borgs scattered everywhere was disgusting. Assuming that Borgs or near-Borgs had something to do with the mud pits, what about when the mud froze? Did Borgs hibernate? With their worms? Could they live in cold climates? They were warm-blooded, at least some of them. They should be able to survive.
She did a quick look at polar surveys. The axis of Iago IV was not tilted like earth’s and there was no seasonal variation in climate. There were large ice caps at the poles of the planet which remained stably frozen. There, the infrared scanners detected a few warm -blooded somethings in a regular distribution beneath the ice, presumably more mud beasts, only substituting powdered snow for mud.
Imelda sat back , shaking her head. If she was right, then these creatures were extremely adaptable
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