Dod loved this altered planetary surface where he could be alone and freewheeling. Dancing around on it was actually safe as long as you first checked the galactic weather forecasts. For normal cosmic radiation, the surface suits were completely sufficient. But if there was a chance of scattered gamma ray bursts, it was necessary to seek out the underground habitats where a living entity of his chemical and physical composition would be safe.
Any such local belches of radiation would fry him and all his artistic ambitions, but his astronomer friends had assured him that there were no likely sources of gamma ray bursts in the neighborhood of his planetary palette.
For bursts from a comfortable distance, there were devices scattered between home and this planet that would ping his helmet and surface workshop to tell him to get underground. Dod had the warning set to play his university fight song after the first five pings.
Otherwise, it was quiet out here, in a comforting and soothing fashion. The life-support systems in the habitats hummed in a pleasant monotone that often shifted his metabolism into a sudden rest cycle. His communicators chirped cheerfully when they registered sporadic messages.
No one was allowed to disturb his time of artistic retreat, his obligatory semester of solitude. However, exceptions were made occasionally for family emergencies, supervisory questions from his university mentor, and routine medical inspections. Otherwise, Dod enjoyed complete and invigorating isolation in this retreat semester that was required for cosmic art majors.
He could set the colors of the walls and ceilings as well as that of the habitat's air supply to random, but he generally wanted to choose colors according to his moods. Right now his breakfast nook, where he had the choice of select gases and other stored sources of energy, bubbled in a bright, aggressive red while the work area was a soothing light blue. He wanted to get energized quickly and then indulge in careful contemplation of the next step for his project.
Fortunately, students were allowed to bring along state-of-the art habitat adjusters. Their assigned task was to create a unique work of art on or with a small planet. This work of art would be examined on its own after all traces of the habitat were removed.
Dod had gotten lucky when his professor assigned him this remote planet for his thesis project. All he had to do was create something from this planet that his professor would consider to be a unique and valuable addition to his galaxy's works of art. Now that he could work in peace, Dod was able to show what the creative juices that flowed through his current, flexible body were capable of.
Indeed Dod had perfect accommodations here. Life was good, and, sheltered from all distractions, he should have no problem completing his thesis project to the satisfaction of his professor. The orange surface was but a backdrop for his work of art.
It hadn't taken Dod long to explore the planet, though long and short were relative terms aligned to the longevity of his particular species. His semester of solitude would almost match the time it took his project planet to make one trip around its star, so that Dod could include seasonal sensory input in his final masterpiece. Correct, peaceful, and predictable sensory stimulation did make it easier for him to think and create. The solitude on this planet was exactly what he needed.
Mary Jo Rabe writes science fiction, modern fantasy, historical fiction, and crime or mystery stories, generally displaying a preference for what she defines as happy endings. Ideas for her fiction come from the magnificent, expanding universe, the rural environment of eastern Iowa where she grew up, the beautiful Michigan State University campus where she got her first degree, and the Black Forest area of Germany with its center in Freiburg where she worked as a librarian for 41 years before retiring to Titisee-Neustadt. News about her published stories is posted regularly on her blog: https://maryjorabe.wordpress.com/
Copyright © Mary Jo Rabe