Boldly, go where every story has gone before…

Natasha Sharma posted under Flash Fiction QuinTale-24 on 2020-11-17



The image fell on the lens. The light reflected off it into the retinas. “Image alert, captain. The body has intercepted an image. Capt. Brain Birk to the bridge,” spoke Lt. Cmdr. Mouthura into the communicator.  Capt. Birk was asleep in his quarters. On hearing the communication call, he boarded the elevator to the bridge, grumbling.  On his arrival, Mouthura updated him. “Captain, the body has received an image that needs handling at warp speed.” “Noseulu, send the engineers from the vestibular section to fetch it,” ordered Capt. Birk. They dispatched the engineers from the inner ear to the visual zone to fetch the data. While returning, they sensed unrest in the nasal lining. Commander Lames contacted the bridge. “Lt. Commander Mouthura, we are expecting some delays due to the expulsion of foreign elements.” “Copy, Lames.” They sped up, covering as much distance possible. Sudden onset of darkness interrupted their speed. The visibility was zero. Thunder could be heard in the distance. It was accompanied by nasal secretions that came hurtling towards them. Without further delay, they opened their umbrellas. They had to save themselves – and their precious cargo from getting soaked. Achoo! said the body. They rushed to the command centre, where Capt. Birk awaited them.  “Commander Medula, please assimilate the information.” “Yes, captain.” Medula retrieved the information from Lames. She connected it to the right side of the machine. Then, attached the data from Rames to the left side. After a few nanoseconds, the analysis was complete. “The visual cortex is ready to distribute the image to the three processing units,” Medula said. “Engage,” ordered Birk. The trio machines beeped the output. “On screen,” said Mouthura. They turned to the screen. “Highly Illogical!” said First Officer Brock. “Correct, Number One,” sighed Birk. “I would recommend calling Dr. Obone to the deck,” Brock suggested.  Dr. Obone was parasailing in the holodeck when hailed from the bridge. “Dammit, Brain, I am a doctor, not an optics expert!” said Dr. Obone when requested to fix the image. “Computer, please refresh the image,” said Capt. Birk. “Yes, captain.” The screen flickered and rendered the image.  “Fascinating! It remains the same,” marvelled Brock. The communicator squawked. “Captain, I have a solution to the problem. I am heading up from engineering,” said Chief Engineer Skontgomery. He swept into the deck, saying.  “The image suffers from a proximal and distal stimulus disorder. Let me adjust the machine.” He tinkered with it. “There you go, all fixed now.” “Thank you, Skotty!” It rendered the image with perfection. Everyone sighed with relief. Another mission was completed. “Captain’s log. Stardate – 1200.7. We have successfully flipped the image sent by the retina. The final product has been sent to the ocular section. Captain out,” Birk spoke into his tricorder. “I am off to bed, folks. NO more calls.” “Aye, captain.” Arrey! This image is inverted. Let me flip it over,” said the body. Meanwhile, aboard the ship. “Image alert, captain. The body…” *** The premise of the story is the image we see is inverted, our brain acts upon it and after certain computation, it flips the image.

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