Shrouded World

                               Shrouded World
                                By Starath

     Exactly a year and two months after its launch, the unmanned space probe Cosmos I came across its destination:  The great gas planet Jupiter.  For a few days the two regarded each other, and Jupiter silently dared Cosmos I to fulfill its single purpose—to reveal to the Earthlings 390 million miles away what lay on Jupiter’s surface.  Cosmos I descended through the atmosphere, taking the dare. It did not know if this would be the only trip it would make.  But that did not matter.  A mission was a mission.

    Cosmos I plunged through the Jovian clouds, and immediately a thunder-like roar filled its mechanical ears.  Winds howled and thrashed the small probe about so hard its computer mind feared it might be torn to pieces.  Lightning flashed and crackled, an angry archangel fiercely protecting his heaven. The brilliant neon-blue lightning strikes dazzled the sky, turning its dark red colors to lava orange and golden yellow. Methane, ammonia, and ethane flooded the probe’s sensors. A human nose would have burned at the aromas. These chemicals were cruel and bitter to them. But Cosmos I was not human, so it dutifully analyzed the solutions and came to a startling conclusion:  There was water vapor as well, and that could only mean…. life.

   Falling through the swirling blood red clouds, Cosmos I escaped from the murderous storms and entered a quiet sky.  The clouds became a hazy orange-white as it drifted downwards.  Its optical sensors picked up movement of something solid.  Focusing the camera it saw a flying creature, not unlike a manta ray.  A single turquoise eye stared unblinkingly at the probe.  Its long smoke gray wings waved silently as they pumped up and down.  Behind the flying ray a cord-like tail followed it, snapping in the breeze.  Without interest the creature passed by the gazing machine, followed by a mass of its own kind.  Had Cosmos I the power, it would have followed them forever.  

    However, Cosmos I continued to sink toward Jupiter’s heart.  It saw eel-like creatures with pointed teeth attack little fish with leafy wings.  A monster with fourteen oars for feet nearly smashed into the probe. Once a harsh cry filled the air, making Cosmos I shudder.  It could only imagine what made the ominous wail. Then, after being enshrouded in clouds for so long, a mud-brown surface appeared.  Huge domes covered its area, and inside beings lived there. Olive green and fleshy pink, the beings walked sideways on six legs and carried two claws—One ridiculously bigger than the other. Here they lived and worked inside their domes.  They were protected from the storms and intense gravity.

     The probe, however, was not.

    Cosmos I had seen what some have only dreamt about.  There was life.  Here on Jupiter.  True life!  But it could not tell anyone.  After descending gracefully for nearly half an hour, it touched ground.  Jupiter’s mad gravity, four times that of Earth’s, began crushing the probe to death.  The storms from above were jealous of the probe’s landing, and fell hard and swift to the surface.  Jupiter’s atmosphere refused to let radio transmissions out, silencing Cosmos I forever.  Gradually the planet destroyed every bit of the defenseless probe.  And protected in their domes, no one of Jupiter’s creation would ever know it existed.

    Days passed and the planet forgot Cosmos I’s existence.  Puffs of fuzzy milk white plants grew contently in the soil.  Asparagus-shaped trees sprouted and thrived across the world, especially around the huge lakes and oceans filled with sweet amethyst water.  Overhead, twenty-four moons continued their dance around the planet.  Jupiter went on as it always did, living, breathing, and keeping its creations secret from the universe.     

    On Earth, the scientists never knew what became of their probe.  So they began building another one, Cosmos II.  They were desperate to see what was on the shrouded world of Jupiter.