#zero space

[dragonfly-fandoms]

The configuration of Z-Space being everchanging is basically Ellimist and Crayak putting on a balloon animal show

[luvscharlos]

longing looks 👀

[miketypo]

Zero Space started as a pretty simple hack of Slipstream, which is anchored very strongly in “1930s serial sci-fi adventure” genre. Which it does incredibly well. Arguably too well at times, in fact (which is one of the reasons I wanted to make changes to begin with).

As I’ve gone on making changes and developing Zero Space into its own thing, I’ve gotten further and further away from that adherence to homage. At the beginning it was just one small “non-era appropriate” change I wanted to make or add, but at this point Zero Space is perhaps radically anachronistic. I don’t know if there’s a word for “incoherent but in a good way, I think?” I think the tipping point was when I added a group of Star Trek-level technology aliens to the setting.

Anyway this is just on my mind today because I recently have a very strong image in my head of a Zero Space rave.

Which is just wild when last week I was wondering if Zero Space would put music on vinyl or if they’d still be using like wax cylinders or something.

[cryfor-noone]

at zero space, manhattan / insta

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Why do you think controllers can morph, wouldn’t the yeerk get squished, and then wouldn’t there be two brains stuck in the animal, I love the series but that stuff has always bothered me

If I interpret the Laws of Applied Phlebotinum in this series correctly, the reason that yeerks don’t get smooshed when their hosts morph is because they get schlooped into z-space right along with the extra mass of the host’s original form every time the host morphs.  The science here is of course sci fi, so laws of physics need not apply, but the basic principle is that the morphing tech “extrudes” the extra mass of the original body into z-space, which is sort of this anti-matter type dimension that, like, exists in the space between atoms.

The way Marco’s dad explains it in human terms during The Revelation is:

Well, the surface of a cone is the two-dimensional analog to the five-dimensional space we inhabit… The cone contains a singularity.  The place where all the lines intersect.  The place where you can head out in any direction, or in all directions at once.  Where you can move in any direction without moving anywhere at all…  We’ve been stuck on the surface of the cone all this time.  When we want to go anywhere, we have to travel on the line.  But now, imagine someone notices the singularity.  A point with no size, no breadth, no extent.  The physical representation of nothingness.  By itself, it’s nothing.  Yet it’s the starting and ending place of everything!  A multiplier of real space! … Zero, I suppose.  Zero-space.

Marco responds (not out loud, of course) with “News flash, Dad: my matter passes through the singularity several times a week.  Every time I morph, my excess mass gets sucked into nothingness.  A bubble in time” (#45).

Anyway, that would suggest that every time (for instance) Visser Three wills Alloran to turn into a human, Alloran’s entire original andalite mass, yeerk and all, gets schlooped through some kind of singularity.  It then just hangs there in this non-space as this “big blob of blood and skin and assorted body goos” as Rachel so artistically describes it (#32).  We know that an object passing through the same patch of z-space can also “yank” the morpher’s conscious mind into the original body for a time, as happens to all the Animorphs in #18, but that the rubber band of consciousness eventually snaps back into the correct alignment regardless of anything the morpher might do to try and prevent it.

We also know that intentionality is key when it comes to morphing.  It’s impossible to morph while unconscious or asleep, and the very act of morphing involves creating and then sustaining a vivid mental image of the shape one would like to assume (#1).  The andalites’ semi-telepathy ability appears to be the principle underpinning morphing, the way it is with most of their tech (mind-reading computers, translation chips, long-distance communication, etc.) so the key component here is willpower.  And that explains why Esplin is able to change Alloran’s body at all: using the same intentionality that allows him to move Alloran’s tail or close Alloran’s eyes, Esplin can exert willpower toward shifting “his” body to become human.  The morphing technology functions through that same exertion of conscious willpower as thought-speak, so that’s all it really takes to start the process.  Alloran’s brain and body pass through the singularity into z-space as the human form he acquired passes out of that singularity and becomes expressed in physical space.

That principle of willpower also helps to explain why the Animorphs can attach clothes to their mental representations of their human bodies: with enough effort, they can conceive of their mental representations of selfhood to include minimal clothing.  It also explains why in #42 the helmacrons and mini-Animorphs in Marco’s body get smooshed when he morphs, because they’re not exerting willpower, and they each have entirely separate z-space connections of their own.  If they’d been (for instance) E. coli bacteria wandering around his intestines, or hair mites stuck to his head, then they might’ve gotten schlooped into z-space when he morphed.  But they’re intentional creatures of their own, controlling their own bodies and not Marco’s.  His z-space connection doesn’t override theirs.

I also assume that that’s how getting trapped in morph works: the connection decays over time.  We know that it’s easier to reverse a morph before it’s been completed than after it’s done (#17, #45), and that as one approaches the two-hour mark it becomes steadily more difficult to demorph (#2, #21), and that the progressive nature of the entrapment means that it is sometimes possible to demorph after sliiiiightly more than two hours in morph (#3, #33).  So I believe the implication there is that the connection through the singularity just naturally breaks down over the course of time, and that demorphing within two hours is the only way to guarantee safe return to one’s original body.

Anyway, it’s canon that some yeerks can morph (Aftran, Tom’s yeerk) and also canon that eventually lots of yeerk hosts can morph (Alloran, Tom himself, etc.) and we know that the mind which started the morphing process retains control of the connection.  Marco describes a human-controller in eagle morph as “a golden eagle is almost three times as big as an osprey… Stir in a crazed Yeerk and a terrified human host, and we’re talking one seriously demented bird” (#51).  So presumably the experience from Alloran’s or Tom’s or whoever’s point of view is sort of like Cassie describes with Aldrea morphing her body and then running around in her morph: “Morphing has always been creepy. This time it was terrifying. Each sensation felt magnified by a hundred. I wanted to scream as I felt my intestines shift and my ribs contract… I felt as if I was locked in a speeding car with no brakes and no steering wheel” (#34).

So I think what happens is this: Visser Three decides to take on human shape for a while.  Esplin focuses the intentionality of morphing toward a shape he “taught” the “program” of morphing through earlier touching a human.  Parts of Alloran’s original shape get schlooped through the singularity into z-space, human limbs and whatnot replacing andalite organs.  The morphing tech registers that there are two sets of intentionality present — Esplin’s and Alloran’s — but yeerks have evolved in such a way that they can easily override the intentionality of their hosts, and thus Esplin’s desire to pass as a human for the duration of this Sharing meeting overrides Alloran’s desire not to be seen walking around as a Level Six mud monkey.  Esplin’s and Alloran’s original mass remains in z-space for the duration of the morph, a bag of assorted goo hanging in space, but both their consciousnesses remain with the human shape currently expressed in real space, and Esplin’s consciousness remains dominant.  At some point before the connection between that consciousness and the original yeerk shape can break down (i.e. within two hours), Esplin focuses his intentionality on Alloran’s original andalite shape, and the demorph occurs.  Esplin’s mass schloops back through the singularity along with Alloran’s, and they return to their starting form.

Again: this process not in line with real physics.  K.A. Applegate is writing a science fiction story, not a quantum mechanics textbook.  However, the process is (mostly) internally consistent. And that is impressive as hell.

[kenpiercemedia]

[miketypo]

What is Zero Space?

If there’s any hope of ever organizing any of this I should probably start at the beginning.

Zero Space is a pocket universe, an isolated “bubble” of reality significantly smaller than the real universe and operating under different physical laws. It connects, occasionally, to other universes through “vortexes”, essentially whirlpools of energy in space that form without warning and draw in unwary travellers. The most powerful vortexes tear planets apart, and their remains make up the asteroid fields, gas clouds, and fragmentary “worlds” of Zero Space.

The “space” of Zero Space is not vacuum, it’s just air that is too thin and low in oxygen to breathe safely for any length of time. So sound travels in space, ships can shed heat by methods other than radiating, it is very, very windy, and your ability to survive without a suit is limited mostly by how long you can hold your breath.

The “worlds” of Zero Space are called fragments. Fragments usually have breathable atmospheres and Earth-normal gravity of 1G, but none are larger than Earth’s moon, and most are much smaller. Fragments typically only have one or a few biomes. So you get your classic Star Wars style ocean world, desert world, jungle world, etc. Larger fragments are often (but not always) globe-shaped, with an outer surface and gravity pulling towards the center of the body. Other fragments resemble a “flying island” design, with a distinct “top” and “bottom”. Others have even stranger forms, such as the "city carved out of a moon” look of Mechropolis.

Fragments do not usually rotate around a central axis (although a few do) and they do not orbit anything. They hold relatively still positions in space, suspended by unknown forces.

At the center of Zero Space is the Crunch, a massive object much larger than any fragment, or even the full-scale planets of a proper universe. The surface of the Crunch is made of an impenetrable, glassy black material, and covered in deep crevices that shine brightly from some internal light source. While the surface can be walked on safely, with the same 1G of any fragment, anything that slips into a crevice is gone, seized by unbearable gravitic forces and pulled inside, never to be seen again.

There are no stars in Zero Space, but the Crunch puts off constant streams of strange radiation and exotic particles, which interact with gases in the air of space to produce plenty of light. The skies in Zero Space are a riot of colourful clouds and strange energies, with a sort of default “background” glow of twilight pink.

The precise size of the Zero Space pocket universe is unknown. The pocket of “open” space that people live in is entirely surrounded by a cloud of thick, corrosive dust. The Dust Cloud is difficult to navigate to begin with, like travelling through a thick fog that swallows up the light, drastically increasing the odds of collision with the asteroids and debris that clutter the cloud. The further one travels into the Dust Cloud, the thicker it gets, until a ship’s engines have to struggle just to make progress. All the while becoming more toxic and corrosive, eating away at the hull and threatening vital systems.

The basic form (and genre) of Zero Space is greatly inspired by the Savage Worlds game book Slipstream, which is set in a pocket universe that can be accessed by flying into a black hole. Slipstream is unapologetically pulp, and does a great job of replicating the genre of 1930s and 40s serial movies. It’s a lot of fun, but not exactly what I was looking for. What started as a few simple modifications for my own use quickly became A Whole Thing. The pocket universe, fragments, and the air in space are all lifted pretty directly from Slipstream (as well as from the same sources Slipstream is using for inspiration, of course). Other things come from other places, of course. With what I’m working with now I can easily trace lines of Star Wars, Blake’s 7, Firefly, a little touch of Lovecraft, this one video game I was playing a couple months back, and many others. I am, without question, a shameless hack who has never had an original idea in his life. I like to think I make it work alright, though.

Beyond the direct lifts, however, Slipstream for some reason opened up a sort of permission to me. Why not air in space? Why not gravity that doesn’t make sense? Why not a planet that’s just a giant tree? Who cares about real science? Shit that other people don’t seem to struggle with when doing games and etc but I always have, inexplicably solved for me by setting the whole thing in a wacky pocket universe. Strangely liberating.

The next step for me after that was “Why stick to the strict ‘30s gimmick that Slipstream has?” opening up even more possibilities. But I’ll save that for a different post.

edit: The map was made using Campaign Cartographer. It is the second edit of the fifth version of the Zero Space map so far, and likely far from the last.

[miketypo]

The next big editing job for my Zero Space setting is going to have to be the Aviar, a species of winged-humanoids based partially on the classic Flash Goron and partially on the DC comics Thanagarians. I originally included them almost as a “well you have to have this”, though also because I’ve been trying to include “flying characters” as more of a thing in my hacks, as it’s so often overlooked and, in general, badly maligned in the TTRPG space. And partially because I wanted a world that was just a big effin’ tree.

Regardless, not a LOT of thought went into them, originally. Just a largely generic “good guy race” of bird men. But with the Felorn redesigned to be more “hunter” than “warrior”, I’m left with a gap to fill and I think the Aviar would work well for it. I’m going to centralize their society a bit more and rebuild them as more of a martial power with a warrior culture and tradition, filling them in as the “major power” of Zero Space that used to be occupied by the Felorn.

I’ve also decided the Aviar had an empire of their own before the coming of the Imperium. As a military power with limited resources of their own, they practiced a limited expansionism and colonialism, building a Dominion encompassing maybe a dozen other worlds, including Aristos and Conea. This will help better establish the reasons behind the post-Imperium tensions between the major powers as well, as these worlds have to struggle with their own historical enmities and disagreements that long pre-date the whole “suffering together under an authoritarian dictatorship” situation of the past hundred years. While the Lopin of Conea are on relatively good terms with their previous overlords, the people of Aristos harbour a much deeper resentment, not helped by the fact that they actually prospered rather well under the Imperium. Serenga is pretty close (geographically) to Aviar as well, and the idea that the cat people and the bird people don’t get along well amuses me.

New Terra is within relatively close proximity to Aviar too, which might place it inside space they traditionally consider their own territory, which is potentially interesting. Earthlings and the Imperator arrived in Zero Space at around the same time, and the establishment of New Terra so close to Aviar space was probably only possible because they were already distracted by the bigger threat.

As a fun note, the Aviar were originally called the Aerions, until I found out what that sounds like when you say it out loud.