Pulse, pulse, pause.
Hundreds of years ago, when mankind first began to explore the deepest parts of the ocean, they discovered a world where the light from the sun does not reach. But even in this darkness there was still light. Through bioluminescence, the dwellers of the depths created their own radiance, even using it to communicate.
Pulse, pulse, pause.
There are other places where the light from the sun does not reach. The furthest reaches of the solar system, far beyond the planets. The sun just a brighter point among millions of other stars.
Pulse, pulse, pause.
Between the drifts of interstellar ice and rock, there is light. A steady rhythm of shifting colour. No words, no sounds. Out here there was no point in trying to be heard over the incessant roar of radio, thousands of intermingling and decaying signals from the interior. Colour in silence was preferred.
Pulse, pulse, pause.
The shell had grown over the decades, now an aggregate of metal-heavy rock and dirty ice scavenged from the clouds, meters thick. It protected the soft innards from being scraped and scarred by debris, but now a hundred elegant branches were reaching out from their home, and sending out a signal. It was a relatively simple signal, nothing elaborate. Two waves of colour that spelled out a basic need.
A particular shade of yellow that meant loneliness faded into a curious sea green. It transformed into a vibrant blue that verged on violet, a declaration of self. Asking a question to the cosmos, and then a hesitation to see if the message had been seen.
Pulse, pulse, pause.
I am alone. Is anyone there? Here I am.
In the darkness came another signal. Brilliant white and gentle sky blue to follow, from another distant set of outstretched arms. Radiating out in a pattern that meant as much as the colours themselves, a dance shining in the starlight. Spin, pulse, spin, pause.
Here I am. I see you. I am on my way.
A radiant red. The colour of a rose in bloom. It shone reassuringly. Pulse, pause.
You are not alone anymore.