The Blue Giant in the Distance

Mark Sing-Zong to Sam oversteeped another cup of probably morning tea. The map grew infinitesimally between cold cups of whatever he'd brewed that morning. And his mind went blank. Blank as he pieced it all together. One picture at a time. Pebble after pebble. He kept an eye on it as he went through the collected data during what the internal system told him were the late hours of the evening. It used to be around two, three per week but now there's at least one every time I connect. Gosh, that must get tiring. Most people just need someone to talk to.