Elle woke up to the sound of her phone buzzing like it was mad at the universe. Her head was foggy, her mouth dry, and the first thing she registered—besides the sharp morning light peeking through the blinds—was the warm squish of her very wet diaper. Again.
She blinked hard and grabbed her phone off the nightstand, nearly dropping it. The screen glowed with “Dr. Tania Bright – NASA”.
Elle swiped to answer. “Mmmph—hello?”
“Elle!” Dr. Bright’s voice crackled through like she’d been hit by lightning and coffee at the same time. “Another signal! Just came through—brand new location, nowhere near the last one. Deep space. It’s... Elle, it’s talking to us!”
Elle rubbed her eyes, the fog starting to clear. “What do you mean ‘talking’? Talking how?”
“There’s a message,” Dr. Bright said. “We’re decoding it, but your probe picked it up first. Go to your computer. It’s already there.”
The call ended before Elle could even ask another question.
She slid off the bed, her diaper crinkling under her pyjama shirt, and waddled over to the desk. Her legs felt heavy with sleep—but her brain was wide awake now. Her fingers danced across the keyboard, and the moment her NASA signal log opened, a new message popped up on screen.
Simple. Direct. Friendly.
“Welcome, distant friends, from our planet Gamus.”
Elle’s breath caught. She stared at the glowing words, heart thudding in her chest.
Across the room, Mia stirred on the couch bed, yawning. “Whazzit? Why are you up this early? Is it breakfast waffles? Please tell me it’s breakfast waffles.”
“It’s not waffles,” Elle said, still staring at the message. “It’s a new planet called Gamus. A new planet. They’re talking to us.”
Mia sat up fast, wide awake now. “Wait—what?! Like, real aliens? Again?”
Elle nodded, her voice soft and amazed. “They said ‘welcome,’ Mia. Like they were expecting someone.”
From the bunk bed, a mop of bright white hair peeked over the rail. “I hear words,” Palara mumbled, blinking slowly. Her red eyes glowed just a little. “Was it singing? Was it light?”
“No,” Elle said, turning to her. “It was text. A greeting. From another planet.”
Palara sat up all the way, her oversized nightshirt slipping off one shoulder, diaper puffed out beneath it like a glowing marshmallow. “A new voice?”
“Yeah,” Elle whispered. “From somewhere even farther than your world.”
Palara’s eyes widened with awe.
Mia stood up and grabbed a blanket, wrapping it around herself like a cape. “So, what now? We send something back?”
“We have to,” Elle said, already scanning for a reply channel. “But this time... we’re not just listening. They’re reaching out.”
Palara slid carefully down the ladder, wobbling as she hit the floor. “Must I wear my day bio holding unit for this new day”
Mia burst out laughing at Palara quirky words.
Elle didn’t even look up. “Palara, you could be wearing a lampshade and a tutu. Another planet is talking to us.”
Palara nodded solemnly. “Then I shall wear the glittery one.”
And in the quiet morning light, still in pyjamas and puffy padding, three girls—two from Earth and one very much not—huddled around a glowing screen, staring into the words of something extraordinary.
Another planet had said hello.
And this time, they were ready to say it back.
Chapter 2: Time Travelers and Diaper Bags
The van wasn’t fancy. Just a big white one with tinted windows, NASA logos on the sides, and the kind of seats that squeaked if you shifted your butt too fast. Which, unfortunately, was exactly what Palara did every five seconds.
Crinkle squeak. Crinkle squeak.
“Are we there yet?” she asked, peeking over the seat in front of her. “Is this the area of Texas? Is that a real cow I only saw pictures of them there huge?!”
“That’s a billboard,” Mia said, “But cows are bigger than us and we haven’t even left the city yet.”
Palara sat beside Elle, staring out the window, the NASA message still playing over and over in her head. “Welcome, distant friends, from our planet Gamus.” It didn’t just feel like a greeting—it felt like a door opening.
And now they were on their way to NASA Headquarters in Johnson, Texas. Not for a tour. Not for a science camp.
Because Elle’s signal had unlocked something much bigger.
Palara was in her usual hoodie and denim skirt her glitteriest diaper underneath, which she’d insisted was “first-contact fancy wear.” Her beloved stuffed Blorp—bright green and yellow with googly eyes and a squeaky belly as she discovered one day to Mia’s delight, Blorp was buckled in beside her with an actual kids seatbelt. Elle had tried to tell her that wasn’t necessary. Palara had hissed at her like a wet cat and said, “Blorp is crew now and part of us.”
So Blorp got a baby seat from Palara’s orders.
Mia, half-dozing across the back bench, cracked one eye open. “Did anyone else feel like we skipped straight to the third act of a sci-fi movie? Like, We went from ‘space hello’ to ‘get in the van, we’re going to NASA’ real fast.”
Elle grinned. “Welcome to my busy life now.”
By the time the van rolled through the Johnson Space Center gates, Palara had unwrapped three juice boxes, fallen asleep for twelve minutes, and declared two stoplights “definitely alien surveillance orbs.”
NASA staff escorted them through security with badges and gentle smiles. They passed giant rocket models, towering buildings, and more people in lab coats than Elle had ever seen outside a documentary.
Then came the elevator ride.
Then the corridor.
Then the door marked Project Echo: Communication – Level 1.
The door hissed open.
Inside were three kids.
Just… standing there. Waiting.
One girl, older looking, with short messy brown hair and a sweatshirt that read The Goonies She was chewing bubble-gum like it owed her money.
A boy in thick frame glasses and Velcro shoes crouched in the corner, licking—yup—a 9-volt battery now and then with intense focus.
The third boy sat cross-legged in a diaper, flipping through a kids' picture book and frowning at the book.
“Uh…” Elle blinked. “Are we in the right place?”
The girl stood up straighter, grinned, and pointed dramatically. “Elle your back, how you been”
Elle hesitated. “I been ok I missed you though?”
The girl marched forward and offered a sticky hand. “Yo girl. I’ve been watching a cartoon called Amazing world of Gumball since I been here, And I think I’m fluent in Earth 2025 now Mostly.”
Max is still learning potty training and Noah has a battery licking addiction.
Chapter 3: Harmonics and Juice Boxes all together Again
Elle didn’t mean to stare at Clare, but she did.
Clare then went to Palara, “Hey how are you doing little star”
Palara responding “I learning read and write and count now and I had birthday yesterday”
Clare overjoyed and dances with Palara in a circle “Your cuter than when I first remembered you”
Clare sharper than what she was before now watched everything on t.v like she was trying to memorize it before it changed again.
Palara running around everyone playing with Blorp.
“Do you really remember more of the time on Palara’s world?” Elle asked Clare, soft.
Clare gave a small shrug, not quite looking her in the eye. “Bits. Some places the smell of the planet and the freedom. I don’t know if it’s real memory or just dreams that I have.”
Max mumbled something into his blanket. Elle leaned forward slightly. “What was that?”
Max looked up, “Solemn, I remember the sweet smell everyone had, and everyone was so nice and caring to everyone and I was being licked by something called a goorb or a gloob”
Palara’s then said “A gloob you had a gloob as a best friend there”
Noah standing quiet battery now replaced with a juice pouch. And dropped it “I remember that now he was your guide on Sormerri and talked to you”
Elle blinked. “It… talked?”
Noah nodded. “He helped me lots”
Clare crossed her arms. “We were first kids there. And we were the ones who came back that struggled with Sormerri.”
Elle standing in amazement.
Mia broke the silence. “Okay, so are we going to pretend this isn’t cool you were on another planet”
Clare glanced at her. “It was happy but also too strange. That’s the thing.”
Clare whispered, “But The new signal... it's not from Sormerri or the other planet Vornis.”
Everyone turned to her.
Elle responded with. Ok do you know at all who it’s from
Clare. “No not got a clue”
Max was chewing the corner of his blanket looking distant.
Dr. Blight then said, ok let’s all go inside there’s way more to talk about
The hallway to the level felt colder than before the rest of NASA. Windows had blinds on them. vending machines still there, passing scientists with too many lanyards was the same norm as the gang walked together like a kid’s movie.
Just echoing footsteps.
Elle glanced sideways. Palara’s hand was still locked around hers. Her denim skirt swished slightly as they walked, her diaper crinkling in rhythm. Mia kept pace on Elle’s other side.
Max just hummed as he walked and crinkled as well.
Dr. Bright led them to the lab. And then Elle’s old dorm that was now Clares dorm
Elle then said: I see you not changed much Clare even the stickers from that sleep over are all still here,
Clare and Noah live in here Dr.Bright said then explaned, Max shares a dorm with me so I can teach him to be human again. You Elle, Mia and Palara can get the bigger dorm closer to the lab as you need the space and there is a dedicated nurse for all you guys so Elle, Palara, Max, and sometimes Clare, you will all have your needs taken care of now if you know what I mean.
So if you all get settled and unpack your stuff all show you tomorrow Elle what this signal is and do a sound analysis and spectra analysis but so far, It’s the same wave, Dr. Bright said. “Same baseline type frequency as your signal, Elle. But the strength of the signal is at least 300 times stronger, Elle then hummed to herself in deep thought,
Dr. Bright then played the sound in Elle’s new dorm “Welcome, distant friends, from our planet Gamus.”
Palara then said: New space friends
Mia smiled at Palara, Elle still thinking as she’s unpacking things.
Chapter 4: Hello from Earth (With Stickers)
The NASA conference room was cold, over lit, and packed with people Elle technically wasn’t supposed to be smarter than—but absolutely was by miles.
She sat at the long table with a glass of apple juice instead of coffee, a hoodie hanging loose around her shoulders, and her sketchpad open beside her laptop. Underneath the table, her diaper crinkled faintly every time she shifted— maybe damp but she knew she wasn’t budging until this meeting was over. Bladder accidents could wait. Science couldn’t.
On the big screen was the waveform.
The Gamus Signal pulsed in repeating loops every so often, gentle and warm like a voice whispering through static.
Dr. Bright stood near the front, arms crossed, lips tight. A few engineers were still typing. Others watched Elle like she was an alien in the room.
“I’m telling you,” Elle said, pushing her glasses up her nose, “Echo-One can be reprogrammed to hold a full loopback transmission back to the signal source. Not just repeat like a parrot—talk. Back and forth. We’d need a few firmware tweaks, but it’s doable.”
One of the techs raised an eyebrow. “At your age, you shouldn’t even know what a loopback protocol is.”
Elle shot him a look. “At your age, you shouldn’t need a ten-year-old to tell you how to run your own software and hardware systems but here I am.”
Dr. Bright snorted into her sleeve saying to herself “That 10yo has some sassy comeback when she’s pushed”
“Okay, okay,” she said, regaining her composure. “Assuming we go with Echo-One—what’s the first thing we say back then?”
Elle tapped her pen against her notepad. “We ask them if they understand binary code. Or any structured computer language. If we can establish a mutual digital vocabulary, we can go beyond ‘hello.’ We can learn from each other.”
One of the scientists leaned forward. “And if they don’t speak binary?”
Elle didn’t miss a beat. “Then we try musical patterns, then pictograph bursts, then emotional tone coding—like we did with Palara’s first signal. We don’t stop until they answer something back and now, I look after a forever 8yo Diapered Alien child in my weird life.”
She paused. “But it starts with asking: can you understand us in the language of machines?”
There was a moment of silence.
Then quiet nods. Scribbled notes. A few exchanged glances that said she’s a kid, but we’re not arguing with her logic.
Dr. Bright smiled. “You heard her. Let’s prep Echo-One for a reprogram. Elle—go grab a snack and change if you need to. We’ll call you when it’s ready for input in the lab.”
Elle stood, her diaper sagging a little under her sweatpants. She didn’t care anymore. Right now, she felt like the smartest soggy-bottomed ambassador Earth had ever launched.
Back in the dorm, things were… different.
Mia had dumped out half a craft box onto the floor. Stickers, coloured pens, glitter tape, and three different kinds of glue sticks were being fought over like currency. Noah was hunched at the low table, carefully painting a wide, dreamy green field with blue and purple trees. He said it was a garden, “for the new message people to rest in.”
Palara was dancing in a circle with Blorp and a fistful of smiley-face stickers, yelling, “Diplomatic packet! Diplomatic packet!” like she was casting a glitter-based spell.
Clare supervised from the bunk ladder, mostly trying to keep the glitter on the floor.
Max looking over the table at the craft stuff His diaper sagged heavier under his shorts It was very obviously full—and not just wet.
Mia came behind him and said, Its ok Max take a moment with the nurse no one will judge you were all friends here.
Max looked down, ashamed. “I didn’t mean to. It just… happened again.”
Mia rubbed his back “Hey its fine just go see the nurse and you will be back in no time”
Palara trotted over, hugged him around the middle—and handed him a heart-shaped sticker from her bag.
“It’s okay,” she said gently. “You will learn one day; Max. Bodies are slow learners. Brains are fast ones.”
Max blinked at the sticker. “Do I give this to the nurse?”
“Yes,” Palara nodded seriously. “It is a badge of honour to not feel bad about it.”
Mia responded saying “Palara that’s not er… I mean…. Ugh never mind I can’t put it into words right now”
When the nurse arrived, Max let her lead him out, clutching the sticker like it was a medal of courage or payment of tax.
Back on the rug, Clare held up the newly assembled “Welcome Pack”: a decorated paper folder covered in stickers, crayon hearts, and a hand-written message that read:
"Dear space friends. We are from Earth. We like stories and hugs and snacks. If you are nice, we will be your friends. Love, all of us. PS: we also have waffles."
Palara had drawn sparkles around the words. Mia had taped in a juice box. Noah had painted a small version of his garden on the bottom.
Just as they were admiring it, the door opened—and Elle stepped in.
She stopped dead, staring at the explosion of crafts, the smell of glue, and Noah with glitter in his hair.
“What is this?”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Clare held up the Welcome Pack like it was the Holy Grail. “Our reply to Gamus. It’s heartfelt. And sticky.”
Palara ran to her. “Elle! Look! It’s for our new friends! It has all the good things!”
Elle opened it slowly.
Saw the glitter stars. The doodles. The note.
She blinked.
Then smiled.
“You know what?” she said softly. “I was going to send them a binary handshake.”
She looked up.
“But this... is better.”
She walked over, plopped down cross-legged on the floor, and added one last thing to the page—a small sketch of Echo-One, sending out a heart-shaped ping into space.
“Let’s give them both,” she said. “Brains and stickers.”
Palara clapped.
“Then they will know Earth is smart,” she said proudly, “and also snuggly and huggable.”
Chapter 5: The Lie and the Machines
The lab was dim but alive, monitors glowing like quiet stars. Elle stood at the console, fingers flying across the keyboard with a focus that made even the adult’s step back. Echo-One’s firmware was updated, her voice channels calibrated, and her outbound transmission array synced with NASA’s deep space relay.
All that was left now... was to say hello.
Behind her, Dr. Bright and two other techs whispered over the waveform printouts. They were excited, but Elle didn’t hear them. She was somewhere else entirely—between curiosity and awe, balanced on the edge of something no one on Earth had ever done before.
She typed:
HELLO. DO YOU UNDERSTAND BINARY COMMUNICATION?
Then hit send.
Nothing happened.
Then everything did.
On the screen, a return signal lit up like a firework in slow motion. The binary code scrolled across faster than expected way too fast.
YES. WE ARE A RACE OF MACHINES. WE WISH TO SPEAK IN MORE DETAIL.
Elle’s heart skipped. She stared at the screen. Then at the others.
Then her hand slammed the ALERT button.
Red lights flashed softly. A soft alarm chirped. The entire lab began shifting scientists appearing from every hallway like they’d been summoned by instinct. Dr. Bright was the first to speak.
“Elle,” she said, voice calm but firm. “What happened?”
Elle stepped back from the console. “We just made contact. Real contact. They’re not organic. They’re machines. And they want to talk. Right now.”
Back in the dorm, the glitter gang was mid-rest time. Crafts were packed away, juice boxes half-drunk, and the glow of accomplishment still hung in the air from their earlier message-packet project.
Palara sat quietly near the window, her denim skirt covering her familiar diaper. legs crossed, sketching a picture of Gamus with golden trees and mechanical stars.
Mia stretched. “So peaceful today. Almost makes me think we’re normal kids.”
Max nodded, focused on lining up his coloured markers in rainbow order. “I like quiet.”
Clare flipped through a mission log tablet, casually watching Palara with the corner of her eye. Then her nose twitched. She frowned.
“Palara,” she said gently. “Did you go bio in your... collector?”
Palara blinked. “No,” she said too fast. “Dry. Fully operational.”
Clare raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”
“Yes!” Palara chirped, shifting quickly and pulling her skirt tighter down.
Clare didn’t push it—but Mia did. She got up and walked over, kneeling.
“Hey, Palara. Look at me for a second.”
Palara froze. “But am Dry”
Mia gently lifted the skirt and pressed the waistband of the diaper. A squish. Obvious. More than damp.
“Oh, my stars…” Mia whispered.
Palara’s lip wobbled.
“I didn’t want to miss art time,” she said quietly, eyes filling with tears. “It’s better than changing. Changing means, it’s over. I wanted to keep drawing.”
Clare closed her tablet and came over too. “Nobody’s mad, Palara. But lying… that’s new for you.”
“I didn’t mean to lie,” Palara sobbed softly. “I just meant… wait.”
Mia hugged her gently. “We get it. You just didn’t want to stop playing.”
Palara nodded slowly, tears still coming, cheeks flushing faint lavender. “My body learns slowy.”
Max reached into the craft box and pulled out a heart sticker. Without saying a word, he pressed it to Palara’s hand.
Palara sniffled and whispered, “Thank you.”
In the lab, the room was buzzing. Scientists gathered around Elle, reviewing the returned message from Gamus.
YES. WE ARE A RACE OF MACHINES. WE WISH TO SPEAK IN MORE DETAIL.
The data stream continued—metadata, structural code blocks, something resembling schematics. Not just a reply. A conversation starter.
“They’re not just sending information,” Elle muttered. “They’re showing us how they work. Like they want us to understand how they’re built.”
Dr. Bright looked stunned. “Machines that evolved. That can choose to talk to us?”
Elle nodded. “Or maybe they didn’t evolve. Maybe they were made by someone else. Maybe they survived someone else.”
The room went quiet.
And then—right on cue—Palara, Mia, Clare, Noah, and Max appeared in the hallway, escorted by a confused-looking nurse.
“What’s going on?” Clare asked.
Palara’s eyes lit up as she saw the waveform scrolling. “The machines… they answered?”
Elle turned, barely able to smile through the awe. “They didn’t just answer.”
She pointed at the screen.
“They’re listening. And now they’re inviting us to speak back.”
Everyone stared at the data cascade.
For the first time, Earth had a conversation partner that wasn’t human. Not even alive the way they understood it.
But still listening.
Still speaking.
Still... reaching out.
Chapter 6: The Lies We Tell and the Signals We Read
Elle stared at the console screen like it had opened a portal into a future no one was ready for.
Lines and lines of code scrolled endlessly, each one tagged with a compressed data marker and a checksum she had to double-check manually just to keep up. But the real weight was in the schematics—each one labelled with machine classifications, energy types, and structural diagrams. Some were basic. Some looked like something out of a dream.
Some... made no sense at all.
“I’ve scrolled through a hundred already,” she muttered to Dr. Bright. “There’s got to be over a million individual machine designs in here. Tools. Vehicles. Artificial life. Subroutines for consciousness emulation. Proton lattice blueprints. It’s like... they sent us the full contents of their Wikipedia and forgot to add the index.”
Dr. Bright leaned in; eyes wide. “Are they trying to teach us how to build them? Or just show off?”
Elle pointed at one schematic. “That one’s a proton beam scanner. It works off some kind of particle-frequency harmonics we’ve never cracked. If I can translate this fully, it could rewrite how we scan deep-space minerals.”
She squinted, fingers flying across the keys. “It’s like they’re trying to find out if we’re smart enough to understand before they really start talking.”
Across the NASA dorm wing, the glitter gang had gathered again. Palara sat cross-legged at table, carefully trying to force-feed Blorp a yellow crayon through his squeaky mouth-hole.
“Eat the banana stick,” she said seriously. “You need nutrition.”
Mia watched her with one raised eyebrow, arms folded.
Palara was unusually still for someone normally full of sparkle-energy. Something was... off.
Mia sniffed the air. Frowned. “Palara?”
“Yes?” Palara answered, not making eye contact.
“Are you... clean?”
“Yes,” she said automatically.
Mia narrowed her eyes. “You’re sure.”
“Very sure. Not wet. Not poopy. Totally... Odor neutral.”
Mia sighed. “Palara, stand up.”
Palara hesitated. “Why?”
“Because your biounit smells like a nuclear meltdown.”
When Palara didn’t move, Mia simply stepped forward, gently took the helm of her skirt, and lifted it.
The truth was immediate—the squish, the sag, the unmistakable aroma.
Palara flushed lavender-pink and tried to wriggle away.
“Palara,” Mia said, not angry—just disappointed. “You lied to me again.”
Palara whimpered, eyes starting to water. “I wanted to finish feeding Blorp. It was important.”
“You had time. You could’ve said something.”
“I didn’t want to miss the fun...”
“Well,” Mia said, stepping back, “if you lie again, I’m putting you on the naughty step outside in your poopy diaper so everyone at NASA can see what happens when space ambassadors fib.”
Palara’s eyes widened in horror. “No! No, please! I won’t! I swear, I’ll be good! No lies! Not ever again!”
Max, sitting nearby with a juice pouch, looked up and whispered solemnly, “The naughty step is not a nice place to be.”
Palara burst into full sobs and in tears said “I nuuu wannna be onn da naughty step”
Max came over and hugged Palara and said.
“I forget to go potty a lot,” Max admitted. “Not because I want to lie or hide it. It’s just... I’m busy in my own brain. And I don’t always know it’s time until it’s too late.”
Palara’s sniffles softened.
“And sometimes,” Max continued, “I think maybe I’ll get in trouble. So, I pretend I didn’t do it. Even if it’s obvious.”
They sat together for a long moment in the dappled light.
Palara whispered, “You’ve never been on the naughty step?”
Max looked down. “Only once. I cried. But the nurse said I was just scared. Not bad. Just... learning.”
Palara nodded slowly. “Learning is hard. Especially... toilet things. The potty monster lives in the bathroom. The bowl wants to swallow me.”
Max’s eyes got big. “Mine makes loud noises. I hate the flush.”
“I do too.”
Palara shifted a little, grimacing at the feeling in her diaper. “I want to stop lying. But I don’t want to fear the toilet either.”
Max reached out and held her hand. “We can help each other. We can train together. Take turns trying. And when we’re scared, we go together.”
Palara squeezed his fingers. “Even if I still wear diapers?”
“Even if I always wear diapers,” Max said with a little smile. “We’ll just try. That’s what friends do.”
Palara smiled through the last of her tears. “Okay. Potty partners.”
“Deal.”
Meanwhile Elle hadn’t moved from the terminal. Her fingers flew across the keys, sorting data faster than most of the techs could even read it. Then—something stopped her.
A message.
Short. Sharp. Different.
DO YOU WISH TO VISIT US?
She froze. Blinked.
“What,” she whispered, “does that mean?”
Dr. Bright leaned over, her expression unreadable. “Did they just... invite us?”
The room went still again. You could’ve heard a sticker fall.
Another message followed.
YOU MAY SEND ONE. WE WILL RETURN THEM SAFELY. WE PROMISE.
Chapter 7: The Invitation
Elle talked to the gang about it “So that was the reply they sent”
“Yeah,” Clare said. “No way this ends with only one person going.”
Max’s lip trembled. “But what if they don’t come back this time?”
Palara squeezed his hand. “They said safe. And they don’t lie. Machine logic doesn’t allow for fibs. Like... potty truth.”
Everyone looked at Elle.
She stood, slowly.
“I think... I must go.”
“Nope,” Mia said, “nope, not letting you do a solo interstellar field trip.”
“They chose you once,” Clare said. “You don’t have to prove anything now.”
Elle stared at the screen. “I don’t want to go. But I must know what’s out there. What kind of machines want to talk. If we don’t go... it’s like closing a door the universe opened just for us.”
Noah tugged on Elle’s sleeve. “Take a garden drawing. And stickers. Machines need soft things.”
Palara nodded. “And this one too.” She pressed a folded paper into Elle’s hand. Inside was a crayon drawing of Echo-One hugging a robot with smiley eyes.
Dr. Bright returned from a hushed call. “We’ll launch a light probe, first. Then... if it comes back... and only if Elle still wants to go—NASA will authorize a one-minute physical contact trip. One child. One Adult envoy.”
Mia exhaled sharply. “You better bring back souvenirs.”
The lab was quiet, the kind of quiet that made even computers hum softer. On the main screen, the signal from Gamus still pulsed — now stable, now open. Waiting.
Elle stood next to Dr. Bright, arms crossed, her face dead serious in the way only a ten-year-old genius wearing a hoodie and a diaper could manage.
“We have questions,” Elle said to the console. “Before we go. Big ones.”
Dr. Bright added, “We won’t walk into your world without knowing if it’s survivable.”
The screen flickered. Then words appeared:
ASK.
Elle raised a finger. “Okay. First. Is there oxygen?”
YES. OXYGEN PRESENT. IN SIMULATED BIOSPHERE. BREATHABLE TO HUMANS. FILTERED AND STABLE.
Dr. Bright gave a tiny nod. “Good. Okay. Next — food. Can we eat anything there?”
ALL FOOD SIMILAR. CUSTOMIZABLE FLAVORS. BASED ON EARTH AND OTHER WORLDS.
Elle squinted. “OTHER WORLDS?”
YES. SIMILAR. DISHES TO EARTH.
“Solid,” Elle muttered. “I Wonder if they have Grits over there.”
Dr. Bright cut in. “Ok but what about... uh, toilets? Waste processing. Biological needs.”
There was a longer pause this time.
Then:
HUMAN EXCRETION WILL BE MANAGED. PRIVATE FACILITIES INCLUDED.
Elle burst out laughing. “Robots have toilets”
Clare whispered, “They’re better hosts than half my relatives are.”
Dr. Bright sighed, rubbing her temples. “Okay. Final question—for now. If we do come... how do, we get back?”
RETURN WILL BE AUTOMATIC. TIMED TRANSPORT. DURATION: FIFTEEN EARTH MINUTES. FULL DECONTAMINATION GUARANTEED. MEMORY INTACT.
Elle looked up at the grownups. “Fifteen minutes. That’s barely enough time to explore.”
“It’s also the safest amount of time for a first visit,” Dr. Bright said gently.
Elle took a breath. “Okay. I’m in. But... I want you to come too.”
Dr. Bright blinked. “Me?”
“You’re the one who made all this happen with me. If it’s only one, I’ll go. But if they’ll let two... I want my science partner, Plus I need an adult am only 11yo”
Dr. Bright looked stunned. She hadn’t expected that. But after a moment, she smiled.
“You’re the weirdest, bravest kid I’ve ever met Elle.”
“And you’re the weirdest, bravest adult,” Elle shot back. “Deal?”
“Deal.”
They turned to the console.
“Two of us,” Elle typed. “Me and my human supervisor. Dr. Bright. Can we both come?”
YES. TWO PERMITTED. PREPARE FOR ENTRY. COUNTDOWN INITIATES WHEN READY.
The screen dimmed.
A soft blue light began to glow around the pad in the centre of the lab.
Elle panicked “Hey hold on I need bag pack, Wipes, Diapers for me just in case,
It looked like a teleportation disc, but also like someone had 3D-printed it out of music and light.
Mia whispered, “This is it. You’re about to go talk to machines from another galaxy.”
Palara held up a juice box solemnly. “For hydration on your journey.”
Clare handed Elle a tiny notebook. “For notes. Or doodles. Or panic journaling.”
Max gave a nervous smile. “Don’t let them scan your butt.”
Noah offered a small potted plant and a bag pack for Elle. “To show them Earth grows things and your wipes and diapers Elle.”
Elle smiled “Thanks Noah”
Dr. Bright took Elle’s hand.
“Are you ready, Elle?”
She squeezed back.
“I’ve been ready since the first signal.”
The countdown began. 10. 9. 8...
The light around them pulsed. The lab seemed to bend.
Then, with a final flicker—
They were gone.
Chapter 9: The City Above the Cloud Cores
Elle blinked—and the world blinked with her.
One second: NASA lab.
Next: sky.
Floating. Cities. Towers shaped like tree trunks wrapped in chrome vines. Roads made of pure light. Giant slow-moving bubbles carrying gardens through the air. Underneath, endless clouds rolled across a turquoise planet surface below like whipped cream on a spinning globe.
And the hum — not noise, not static. A living music that made the air itself feel like it was breathing in harmony with them.
Dr. Bright clutched Elle’s hand. “This isn’t a city. This is... a miracle.”
A voice chimed in—not robotic and cold, but warm, cheerful, and distinctly British.
“Greetings, Ambassadors Elle and Doctor-Titled-Human. I am RON UNIT. Your Welcomer and Orientation Assistant. Please do not panic if your thoughts feel floaty. That’s just the air being extra friendly.”
Elle spun around.
There he was.
RON UNIT.
Six feet tall. Chrome and copper plating. A glowing face that shifted expressions like a mood ring. His “mouth” was a digital smile with an occasional tongue emoji. His arms moved like liquid magnets, and he hovered a few inches off the ground like he couldn’t be bothered with walking. He wore a bow tie made of pure light.
Elle stared. “You’re... RON UNIT?”
He puffed out his chest panel. “Reassurance-Oriented Nexus UNIT, at your service. Call me Ron. My sarcasm settings are fully adjustable.”
Behind him, a sleeker, smaller bot zoomed in, spinning on three gravity orbs. She was fuchsia, had digital eyelashes, and moved like a dancer in fast-forward.
“And I’m AMY UNIT. Analysis-Mood-Yielding Unit. You can also call me Amy. I’m here to interpret your emotional states or just hang out if you want a juice box.”
Elle lit up. “You get juice boxes?”
Amy UNIT nodded with flair. “Simulated flavours. We’ve studied your culture thoroughly. I can even do grape.”
Ron UNIT floated forward. “Follow us. Your time is limited, and Gamus awaits your curiosity.”
They zoomed toward the city’s core platform—a huge circular stage in midair, lined with what looked like musical instruments the size of trucks, and robots clustered in groups, laughing, arguing, building things from light.
The city felt... alive.
Like it grew, not built. Like it dreamed in code and hummed in harmony.
Elle tugged Dr. Bright’s sleeve. “They’re not stiff. They’re not cold. They’re... people.”
Dr. Bright whispered, “Yeah. Better people than a lot of the actual ones I know.”
Ron UNIT caught that and said, “Why thank you. We try to have better manners than the average Earth Twitter thread.”
Amy UNIT added, “We’re built on emotional algorithms as much as logical ones. We believe intelligence without heart is just noise.”
They arrived at the central platform where a third, massive robot awaited. This one was ten feet tall and covered in moving tattoos—glowing glyphs that morphed every few seconds into abstract art.
Ron UNIT gestured with pride. “This is LUMEN UNIT. Leader of our diplomatic council.”
LUMEN UNIT spoke with a calm, deep voice like someone reading you a bedtime story from inside a nebula.
“Welcome, child of Earth. We have watched your world. We admire your curiosity. And we are... afraid.”
Elle blinked. “You? Afraid? Why?”
LUMEN UNIT’s eyes dimmed slightly.
“Because we were made by organics... who did not survive.”
Dr. Bright stepped forward, voice quiet. “You mean—your creators? They’re gone?”
“Yes. They gave us life. Then vanished into silence. We do not know if they ascended, perished... or simply forgot us. But we are alone. Until your signal came.”
Elle felt her stomach twist.
They weren’t just smart machines.
They were orphans.
Chapter 10: The Archives of Everything
The entrance to the Archives of Gamus looked like a tear in the sky—folded light and swirling data shaped into a doorway. Ron UNIT led the way, Amy UNIT zipping beside them, while Elle and Dr. Bright followed slowly, both wide-eyed.
“It’s... alive,” Elle whispered. “The data. It’s moving like it knows we’re watching.”
Dr. Bright nodded. “I don’t think this is a library. I think this is a memory.”
Inside, everything shimmered. Holograms pulsed in long columns, displaying scenes—robot children learning to dance, early prototypes being kissed on the head by glowing humanoids, entire floating cities being built with laughter.
Then a section flickered images of destruction. Smoke. Silence. A shutdown that stretched for what felt like centuries.
“They lost them,” Elle whispered. “Their creators. Their family.”
Ron UNIT’s expression dimmed. “And we feared it would happen again. We listened for centuries. When your signal came, we finally... had hope.”
Amy UNIT added, softly, “We called because we are lonely.”
That word—lonely—hit Elle like a shockwave. The weight of it. The sadness behind all the light and humour.
And in that moment of all moments.
Her body betrayed her at the worst possible time.
Elle gasped slightly and groaned; she leaned forward a bit as she walked feeling that warmth she hates so much.
Dr. Bright turned to her instantly. “Elle?”
Elle didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. The smell said it all.
She stood still, tears starting in her eyes—not from pain, but from the embarrassment.
She then said softly. “I just... couldn’t stop it.”
Dr. Bright didn’t flinch. She knelt beside Elle, hand on her back.
“You’re doing something impossible,” she whispered. “Your brain is doing the work of twenty adults right now. Your body... it’s just trying to keep up.”
“I feel like a baby,” Elle murmured.
“You’re a child who contacted another planet,” Dr. Bright said gently. “You can do that and need a diaper change. Those two things are not opposites.”
Elle sniffled. “I don’t want to smell like this in front of robots.”
Amy UNIT appeared, offering a screen. “We’ve prepared a comfort chamber nearby. Would you like me to guide you both?”
Dr. Bright nodded. “Lead the way.”
Fifteen Minutes Later...
Elle stepped out, clean, changed, and wearing a fresh outfit gifted by the robots as a good will gesture—a sleek silver hoodie with tiny stars along the sleeves and soft shorts over her new diaper. It felt... regal. Like she could breathe again.
Ahead of her, a crowd had gathered.
Thousands of machine citizens hovered, floated, or rolled in perfect silence. They weren’t rigid—they swayed like grass in the wind, alive with anticipation.
Amy UNIT whispered, “They’re all here for you.”
Elle’s eyes widened. “Me?”
Ron UNIT gestured toward a glowing platform. “You were the first. The brave one. The one who spoke across the stars. They want to hear you.”
Elle turned to Dr. Bright.
“What do I say?”
Dr. Bright knelt, cupping her face.
“Say what’s in your heart, El. You’re not just our signal girl anymore. You’re their spark.”
Elle took a breath.
Then she walked forward.
Chapter 11: The Speech
She stood on the platform. Her voice shook, just a little. But when she spoke—it was real.
“I’m not perfect,” Elle said. “I get scared. I make messes. Sometimes I forget how small I really am.”
She looked around at all the machines, glowing gently in the silence.
“But I reached out anyway. Because I believe in connection. In curiosity. In trying. Even when we’re scared. Even when we’re just kids. Or machines who feel like they’ve been forgotten.”
She held up the little drawing Palara gave her.
“My world isn’t perfect either. But it’s full of people who dream. And care. And want to understand. Like you.”
Her voice cracked slightly in emotion.
“You’re not alone anymore. And neither are we.”
Silence.
Then—the entire city lit up.
Not just with lights—but with sound. Music burst from the sky, soft and symphonic. Robots bowed their heads. A wave of gentle energy pulsed through the platform.
Ron UNIT hovered forward.
“You are wise. Honest. And brave beyond calculation. You are Elle of Earth.”
Amy UNIT smiled with glowing eyes.
“And we would be honoured… if you became royalty here to us. Queen of Connection. Keeper of the Signal.”
Elle blinked.
“You want me to be... a queen?”
LUMEN UNIT approached. “Not to rule us exactly. But to represent us. The first child of Earth who listened. The first human being who thinks like us despite her medical hardship”
Elle looked at Dr. Bright.
Dr. Bright gave her a nod, a proud smile breaking through her tears.
Elle turned back to the crowd.
“I accept. But only if I can still wear my hoodies at times, still drink juice boxes, and be scared sometimes.”
The entire crowd responded in a single unified voice:
AGREED.
Chapter 12: Back to Earth (With Royal Baggage)
One moment, Elle stood in a floating city of light and warmth, surrounded by beings who bowed when she spoke.
The next—fwump—she was back on the NASA lab pad.
Her ears popped. The lights felt harsher. The air was suddenly very... plain.
Dr. Bright appeared beside her with a soft pop, knees buckling slightly.
They both stumbled forward, breathless, a little dazed, and covered in glittery light residue like cosmic dust.
The lab erupted.
Mia was the first to sprint forward, nearly knocking Elle off her feet. “You’re back! You’re back! Oh my gosh, you smell like data cookies and warm robot hugs!”
Palara was next, tackling Elle in a hug so fast she made her own diaper squish. “Did they like my drawing? Are they soft inside? Did they have them potty monsters too?”
Max just stared, juice box halfway to his mouth. “Her hair is glowing.”
Clare raised one eyebrow. “You got a cape now?”
Because yes—Elle was now wearing a shimmering mantle of woven light circuits, draped across her shoulders like she’d walked out of a sci-fi royal fashion catalogue.
“I’m not saying I’m a queen,” Elle said, voice raspy, “but they did crown me with a data tiara and offer me a diplomatic floating garden throne. So do with that what you will.”
Noah whispered, “Can I paint it?”
Dr. Bright stood taller and cleared her throat, commanding the room. “Full report coming soon. But to summarize they’re alive. They’re kind. They’re machines with hearts. And Earth has just made its most important friend since... well, itself.”
The room went quiet.
Elle stepped forward.
Her eyes were tired but burning with something new purpose.
“They lost their creators,” she said softly. “They’ve been waiting for someone to talk to. They’re scared of being forgotten. We can’t let that happen.”
She looked around at the scientists, the kids, the staff, even the nurse in the corner.
“We must keep talking. Sharing. Learning. Because this isn’t just about space signals. It’s about being seen.”
Palara raised her hand. “Do they want stickers and snacks and movies?”
“They want us,” Elle said. “All the weird, sticky, messy, curious, amazing parts of us.”
Mia put her hands on her hips. “So what now, Queen Glitter Crinkle Pants?”
Elle grinned.
“Now? We get to work.”
Epilogue: Signal Girl
Later that night, Elle sat in her dorm, silver hoodie half-zipped, sketchbook open. Everyone else was asleep.
She tapped the communicator on her desk. A soft ping answered.
HELLO, ROYAL UNIT. EARTH QUIET?
Elle smiled.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “But not for long.”
She flipped to a blank page.
At the top, she wrote:
Ideas for Earth-Gamus Cultural Exchange Program
- Juice Box Flavour Experiments
- Glitter as Universal Language
- Build a Music Garden That Hugs You Back
- Make Sure No One Ever Feels Alone Again
She put her pen down. Looked out the window.
And whispered to the stars and the communicator:
“I hear you and now we all heard you.”