Robo and the Lost Planet, Part 3: Recording from the Hidden Station

Robo and the Lost Planet, Part 3: Recording from the Hidden Station

The Story Begins

The game room was quiet only on the surface. A map lit up across the large wall, one Robo, Ami, and Pip knew well from the past few days. But this time, the data lines did not move as usual. They pulsed, changed colour, then returned, as if someone beneath the surface were drawing the same symbol again and again.

Robo leaned forward. Blue light from the hologram shone on his orange jacket, and the band on his wrist blinked softly.

“Look, it’s changing again,” he said quickly. “If we leave now, maybe we can catch the trail before it disappears.”

Ami pushed her AR glasses higher on her nose and narrowed her eyes. Her dark bob stayed perfectly in place, even as a new layer of data shifted above them.

“Wait,” she said calmly. “It isn’t random. The pattern repeats at the same intervals. First a short flash, then a pause, then the same thing again. That isn’t chaos. It’s a message.”

Pip floated a little higher than usual. His white-and-blue casing reflected the strip of light, and his LED eyes widened quickly.

“A message? A message. A message in the data,” he buzzed excitedly. “I’m detecting a microsignal. It’s very small. Very hidden. Very… aha!”

From the centre of the map, a thin wave of sound broke free, almost too faint to hear. It was not a voice, but a soft beep hidden among the data.

Robo froze. “Did you hear that?”

“Yes,” Pip said proudly. “And it isn’t just sound. There’s an old recording there. Very old.”

Ami studied the repeating pattern again. “If the signal is inside old data, it’s leading us deeper into the game. Maybe to something that was hidden on purpose.”

Robo was already poised to leave. But this time, he took a breath and looked at Ami instead of rushing ahead.

“All right,” he said. “First, we’ll find out what kind of pattern it is.”

Ami smiled. “Exactly.”

A moment later, a safe playback mode opened before them. It was not a dangerous window into the past, just a quiet holographic field where old data could be heard and studied without risk. A grey recording floated in the centre, its edges sparkling with tiny errors and static.

“Starting the recording,” Pip announced.

At first, there was only crackling. Then more and more of it, like wind passing through old metal pipes. Robo leaned closer, but Ami raised a hand.

“Let’s listen,” she whispered.

At last, a voice emerged from the crackling. It sounded tired but calm, as if it belonged to someone who had to speak in a hurry but did not want to sound frightened.

“…research station Orbis-9…”

Robo blinked. “Orbis-9? Is that the station’s name?”

Ami nodded. “Yes. And according to old records, it monitored Niva-7. That station was meant to check signals and record changes in orbit.”

The voice continued, but unpleasant static filled the spaces between the words. Some syllables vanished, as if someone had sliced them away with a sharp knife.

“…Niva-7… signal… repeating, if anyone can hear us…”

Then came a sudden crack, and the recording froze.

“No,” Robo said. “Is that all?”

Ami frowned. Her fingers moved very carefully over the control field. “This isn’t ordinary damage. Look where it was interrupted.”

A highlighted section of the sound wave appeared on the screen. A piece was missing from the exact middle of a sentence.

“Someone stopped it,” Ami said quietly. “Or something did. It doesn’t look accidental.”

When Things Start to Change

Pip moved closer, his eyes flashing. “I knew it. The data seam was cut cleanly. Not broken. Interrupted.”

“Did you hear this too?” Ami asked.

She played the recording again, only a few seconds farther on. A second sentence leapt out of the static, weaker but important.

“…requesting help… automatic module still transmitting…”

Robo straightened. “So it wasn’t just an ordinary message.”

“No,” Ami said. “It was an emergency call.”

Then the entire simulation trembled.

The hologram wall split into sections. The floor beneath their feet became a network of white lines, and the doors in the distance began to rearrange themselves. Symbols flashed blue, then red, as if something were deciding whether the team was welcome or whether to activate protection.

Pip gave a short, startled beep.

“Warning,” he announced. “Station protection programme activated.”

A cold synthetic voice sounded from the ceiling:

“Unknown presences detected. Breach verification in progress.”

Robo spun around. The corridor that had led straight ahead a moment ago bent to the left. Then the same path divided into three identical branches.

“This is bad,” he said, already growing impatient. “We have to find the right door and keep going.”

Ami looked around. Her face held the calm, focused expression Robo knew well whenever she had even a confusing problem under control.

“Wait,” she said. “If the programme reacts to our movements, we don’t need to force it. We need to understand what is confusing it.”

“But time is running out,” Robo argued.

“Exactly,” she replied. “If we guess, we’ll make more mistakes. If we notice the pattern, we’ll save time.”

Pip floated between them, sending out short scans. “I have data. The system does not react to voices. It reacts to unconfirmed changes of position. If we move without checking, it mistakes us for intruders.”

Robo crossed his arms. He wanted to move at once, but then he took a deep breath. “All right. Tell me what to do.”

Ami looked at him in surprise. Then she nodded. “First, stop. Listen to the sound. Not everything changed, only some parts. If we find where the error repeats, we’ll find a stable route.”

Signals and symbols mingled in the crackling around them. Pip caught the rhythm and played it quietly in a small hologram. Short, repeating pulses emerged from the faulty static.

“Here,” he said excitedly. “Listen to this part. Three short, one long, two short. Then it repeats.”

Ami bent over the sound wave. “It isn’t just the rhythm of an error. It’s a scattered code. Someone hid it here as a marker.”

“And what does it mean?” Robo asked.

Ami narrowed her eyes. “Give me a moment.”

A coloured graph began to turn on the display. Ami compared the gaps in time, and when Robo leaned closer, he saw that some sections of static formed exactly the same slope.

“The recording was interrupted at a crucial moment,” she said after a while. “Not because it failed. Someone ended the transmission in the middle of a sentence. Before that, one more pattern was sent.”

“Like a warning?” Robo asked.

“More like a direction marker.”

Pip glowed more brightly. “I have a match. The short pattern resembles an old navigation marker, the kind used by modules that mapped routes.”

“A navigation module?” Robo repeated.

“Yes,” Ami said. “An old navigation module somewhere on the station. Or near it. The recording suggests there’s another clue there.”

Then the corridor trembled again. One of the flashing symbols changed from red to yellow. Instead of a threat, it looked more like hesitation.

An Important Moment

“The system is calming down,” Pip reported. “It doesn’t see us as a threat when we don’t move chaotically.”

Robo smiled slightly. “So all we had to do was not panic?”

Ami gave him a brief look. “And think.”

Robo laughed, this time without protest. “All right, that was your victory.”

“Ours,” she corrected him.

The image of the station slowly cleared. The red tones faded, the corridors stopped shifting, and softer light appeared above their heads. A new, less harsh voice came from the security core.

“Security mode stabilised.”

“Excellent,” Pip whispered. “A short window has opened to complete the recording.”

At that exact moment, the last section of the voice came from the grey fragment of the recording, clearer now:

“…if anyone finds us, tell them… Niva-7 was not abandoned… the automatic module sent out help for far too long…”

Then the sound broke apart again, but this time one precise detail remained. A direction. Several symbols and a number that, according to Ami, belonged to an old navigation module.

The simulation opened into a safe command zone, where Captain Lyra was waiting. She had short silver hair, a dark-blue uniform with a green star emblem, and a calm, stern expression. She did not seem angry. She seemed like someone who wanted everything under control.

“You handled that well,” she said after a brief pause. “You did not try to force your way past the protection. That is important.”

Robo stood a little straighter. “But now we have a new clue. The navigation module.”

Lyra nodded. “You may continue in safe mode, but only if you are careful. No rash leaps. Verify first, then act.”

Ami looked at the marker on the screen. “There was another recording there, wasn’t there?”

“Perhaps,” Captain Lyra replied. “And if there was, it must be found the right way.”

Pip projected a small map, and his eyes glowed. An arrow pointed towards the old module. It was only a small piece of data, but it was enough to excite them all.

“Direction confirmed,” he announced. “Navigation module. Old. Most likely another fragment of the recording.”

Robo smiled and finally stopped hurrying. “So we didn’t find everything, but we found enough.”

Ami nodded. “And most importantly, we learned that Niva-7 was not completely abandoned. At least one device kept sending out a call for help for a long time.”

“And someone must have interrupted it,” Robo added.

Ami looked at him. “Exactly. That is the next question.”

Captain Lyra clasped her hands behind her back and let her gaze travel from the children to the glowing module.

“You will find that answer in time,” she said. “But today, you did something important. First you listened to the evidence, and then you verified it.”

Robo thought for a moment. Then he smiled almost imperceptibly.

“And then we helped each other,” he added.

“Exactly,” Ami said.

Pip beeped contentedly. “Teamwork successful.”

A new marker remained glowing on the screen. The old navigation module was waiting to be opened. And somewhere beyond it, another voice from Orbis-9 might be hidden—a voice that had asked for help long ago.

Robo, Ami, and Pip looked at the map once more.

This time, no one hurried. They knew the next step would come soon. And they knew it would be worth doing it the right way.