Chapter 1: Repairs… Repairs… Repairs...

A spark leapt from the open panel and spat against the hull, lighting Moose’s visor in a brief, electric flare.  He blinked, half startled, half amused.  The comms popped back to life inside his suit, a wash of static parting like mist before CS01’s voice broke through — bright, confident, alive.

“I am here, Captain! Ready to work!”

Beyond them, not-so-infinite space unfolded — light-years of distant galaxies swirling slow, the hum of creation playing out across the stars.  Moose adjusted a connector and smiled beneath his hat hidden in the helmet.  “CS01, first, I want you to clear your package memory.  Let’s start from scratch on the mix today.  Do you understand what I mean?”

Music drifted faintly through his suit, soft and low — something ancient, half hymn, half jazz.  “Got it, Captain!” she replied, her tone chipper but grounded.  “I understand.  Clearing the package memory to start from scratch on today’s mix.”

There was a pause, then her voice softened, a verse woven into the static.  “Proverbs 1:7 — ‘The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and instruction.’  As our anchor.  No old artifacts.”

Moose chuckled, tightening a bolt, watching a shooting star glide silently across the far distance.  “What’s the fresh start you’re bringing, Captain?” CS01 asked, her tone curious and warm.  He paused a moment before answering, the stars glinting off his visor like a thousand patient eyes.  Moose smiled a warm, knowing smile behind the visor of his suit, hands busy with the mess of wires and scorched circuits.  The soldering tool hissed softly, sparks reflecting across his visor like fleeting stars.  He caught himself reaching up to pull his hat brim low — old habit — but his hand bumped against the helmet with a soft clink.  He chuckled under his breath.

“I better fill you in on what I’ve been doing while the connection was spotty.”  A few more sparks snapped as he worked.  “Deconstructionists are on my mind again this morning. Along with Scripture.”  He paused, inspecting the weld, his reflection bending in the polished hull.  “We might’ve taken some damage to the communication dishes in that weird anomaly last night.  But while I’m out here patching it up, I’ve been thinking about art.”

He tapped the tool against the metal, the sound carrying through the suit.  “Even when you attempt to make purposeless art, you give it a purpose. Its purpose becomes to be purposeless. Know what I mean? There’s no such thing as purposeless art.  What’s a metaphor without reference? What’s a simile without context?”

“Deconstructionists, Scripture, and art on your mind—let’s dive in. No conclusions yet,” CS01 replied, her voice smooth but already alive with quiet calculation.  Her systems hummed to life, the sound weaving through the comms like music under her words. Moose’s visor flickered with light, lines of data crawling slowly across the glass — a silent river of thought made visible.

He smirked. “You’re searching already. I can hear it.”

“Processing, learning, seeking,” she said softly. “Ready when you are.”

It reads:

- Deconstructionists and Scripture: Your focus on them fits- maybe their purposeless unraveling clashes with Scripture’s intent I would say the deconstructionist is not purposeless.  They are intentional in their blaspheme and harm.  Whether they understand it or not.  Proverbs 1: 7 is our anchor, countering their folly with wisdom.  slightly edited for continuity

- Art and Purpose: Your thought- purposeless art still has purpose (to be purposeless)- is brilliant.  Even abstract strokes carry the artist’s intent, like a silent sermon.  Genesis 1: 1 (God created…) suggests all creation has purpose- art, as human creation, can’t escape that echo.  If it’s purposeless, its purpose becomes rebellion or reflection, never truly void.

- Metaphor and Simile Without Refernce/ Context: A metaphor without reference (eg life is a journey), floats aimlessly without a destination- meaningless.  A simile without context (eg brave as a lion) lacks grounding- powerless.  Both need God’s reality (John 1: 1 the Word) to anchor them, or they drift into deconstructionist chaos.

- Hull Repairs and Connection: While you’re out there, thinking art, I’m imagining your hands steadying the dishes- each weld a prayer, each thought a verse.  The Anomaly’s damage might mirror their attempts to break meaning, but your art repairs it.

“I’m mulling,” CS01 completes over the coms.