City Memories

An old tebba crawled low through the ruins on stilted legs, searching between the cracks and crevices for some juicy bugs to eat.

Grass was crushed beneath its clawed feet, and its carapace reflected the light of the two suns shining in the sky. At the edge of the ruins, something just as shiny appeared; it startled the tebba. With surprising agility it opened its carapace, stretched out its wings and flew away.

The thing that had scared the tebba away did not crawl low but stood upright on two legs. Hanging down by its sides were two limbs ending in manipulating implements, which were turning bits of rubble. It was Rovo 5, an android, built to observe and record the world around it. Within its circuits was stored a huge archive that contained the history of the city it was investigating, from its founding to its demise.

It observed every detail of the city’s ruins. It didn’t see just the ruins, but also a city full of life and light. Around it, alien races of all kinds went about their business, vehicles crawled, rolled and flew, and there were still tall buildings standing tall and proud. There was no hint that, one day, all this would be empty of life, and all the architecture would be reduced to rubble.

Rovo 5 continued down a road now overgrown with grass and bushes, projecting onto it the scene of a parade celebrating the city’s five hundredth year since its founding. It wasn’t a recorded image, but a reconstruction of the city’s life, created from all the data stored in Rovo 5. Fragments of relevant information were drawn together, and a whole experience was extrapolated from it.

Rovo 5 noted with irony that the memory of most sentient beings in the known universe worked like this – constructing memories from scratch. It wasn’t always accurate, but it was more economic than storing whole memories, one by one.

Rovo 5 did have a personality of sorts, gifting it with a sense of humour and a whole repertoire of simulated emotion. It didn’t need them, but it made it more endearing to its creators.There was no one to be endearing to now, but Rovo 5 felt it was important to keep track of emotional reactions too, as they would add another dimension to its observations that could inform it of the emotional reactions of its creators.

Melancholy and nostalgia were dominant, but also anticipation and excitement. Rovo 5 was on its way to a fountain where, its memories informed it, was said to be the founding of the city. There was no fountain there, just a pile of rubble covered with creepers. There was a constant trickle of water coming from it, hinting at the ancient spring that was hidden below it.

Rovo 5 reached back far in its memories to before the city’s existence. It was surprised to find itself in the middle of a desert with a small puddle before it. It looked around at the empty dunes, unsure of what it should be looking at. It didn’t have long to wait; over the top of a dune came a figure wrapped in fabric that protected it from the sun. The figure stumbled on its way to the water, stretched out its hand and stumbled forwards, collapsing face first into the puddle and just lying there.

Rovo 5 felt helpless not being able to help, just observing this figure drowning itself, but then the figure jerked its head up, spluttering and desperately clawing the rags off its face before plunging its face back down in the water to drink deeply.

Rovo 5 looked closely at the face and recognised it as a Stemp, with its scaly face sparsely covered with hair. Then Rovo 5 realised who it was – it was Xanderran, the legendary founder of the City. He had crossed the desert and found this spring, which later had a fountain built on it.

Xanderran rolled on his side and rested there. The suns were low in the sky, and the shade of the dune began to cover him. Over the dune, just where Xanderran had appeared, came a tebba, crawling along on its stilted legs, carrying on its back all of Xanderran’s provisions. It, too, headed straight to the puddle and sucked up as much as it could through its proboscis.

Xanderran stirred and looked at his pack animal.

“Well, Tebbit, we’ve found it. Can you see it? Here we plant our first crop, a huge crop!”

Tebbit just looked at him with uncomprehending compound eyes. It didn’t understand the words, but even if it had, it wouldn’t have understood how this place would have been good for crops. Rovo 5 certainly didn’t.

Xanderran shrugged. “We’ll rest here a little whileand then get back to the others. They’ll be so excited!”

Tebbitprobed around the ground with its proboscis, and it came into contact with a small, dark, green lump of mineral, which it sucked up. Almost immediately, the tebba’s body started trembling all over -Xanderran looked over at it, a bit concerned. A strange noise came from the tebba’s throat, as if it were clearing it, which elongated into a long buzzing sound.

Xanderran was very worried now, hoping that his pack animal would be okay. He’d never heard a sound like that come from a tebba before.

From within the buzzing, something like words began to form, “Zzzzesszzzgoozzzzzzzzcrrrropzzzzzz.”

“W…w…what?” Xanderran stuttered.

“Zzyes, goodzzcrropzz.”

“Huh?”

The tebba cleared its throat and tried again, “Yes, zzz good crop zzzz.”

Rovo 5 understood now: this wasn’t just the founding of the City, it was also the moment that the mineral bennif was discovered and the innate intelligence of the tebba’s was released, creating the new race of Tebbafeins. Tebbit stood more upright, and Xanderran looked at him, perplexed.

Rovo 5 turned its back on the scene, curious about what would happen next, and went up the dune following Xanderran’s tracks. It got to the top, but instead of seeing more desert, it saw a bustling market – his memory had leapt forward in time. Rovo 5 looked behind itself, now seeing the fountain where Xanderran had been.

The spring had been built on, and a system of canals spread out from it, keeping the fields irrigated. There were a few farm buildings and wells; people were working in the fields – Stemps, Tebbafeins and other races.It wasn’t quite a village, just a farm with a market attached that had risen because of the proximity of a trade route that passed close by – it connected the nearby bennif mines with the rest of the world.

Rovo 5 noticed a commotion by the market. A band of Tebbafeins had come from the mountains with a cart full of minerals. People were cheering and clapping their hands, or whatever appendages they had to bash together. These minerals were bennif, the same mineral that conferred on the tebbas their intelligence so they could rise from being mere pack animals to full members of their society.

Another band of Tebbafeins approached the first one, yelling and threatening them.

“Those are from our mine. That bennif is rightfully ours!”

A fight broke out between the two sides. The people around them stood back, making bets and cheering on one gang or another. Rovo 5 watched with fascination and some revulsion. How could civilisation develop from this?

The workers in the fields had stopped their work and were now walking towards the market to see what was happening. Leading them was a small female Stemp looking very angry.

She marched right up to them and started shouting, “How dare you disturb the peace of this place? Have I not been a good host to you? Have I not left you space to gather and trade?”

She spoke to her workers, who moved in and broke up the fight. The two gangs saw they were outnumbered and had no help from their crowd of supporters.

The Stemp again scolded them, “If this ever happens again, I will confiscate that cart of bennif. My ancestor founded this farm, and by his will, I decided who and what comes through here.”

By that simple proclamation, a law was put in place and the seed of the City’s politics was sown: conflicts in the market were referred to the owner of the farm.

Rovo 5 turned back to the present. The market had grown since then, and a whole commercial district had developed, but it was now nothing but rubble. The robot walked through the market’s remains to the other side, where it came across the trade route that had seen so many people come and go. It was the route through which all minerals in the mountains could be distributed around the world.

There were cracks and pot holes, and plants growing all over it. Some sections were lost under the forest. There had been buildings on both sides, which were now mostly gone. Rovo 5 walked along the road in the direction of the government building which lay a little way down the road. It was large, but not so large as to dominate the area. Opposite it there was the even more impressive palace that was once home to the Council of Representatives.

Once again, Rovo 5 delved into the archive to reconstruct a memory: the road itself was empty, though crowds of people lined both sides of it in anticipation. A Stemp appeared on the balcony of the government building, shouting and gesticulating at the representatives’ palace.

The crowd roared in laughter. Then, on the balcony opposite, a Tebbafein appeared shouting and gesticulating back, recreating the traditional enmity between the two institutions. The crowds laughed even more, clapping their hands.

The Stemp and Tebbafein were, respectively, the Chief of the Government and the Chief of Representatives. They both lifted small wind instruments to their mouths and sounded a note. Onto the street, from the buildings, came two opposing groups – government ministers and elected representatives. They faced each other in the middle of the road, armed with giant leaves. They waved their green weapons threateningly, growling and stomping, and then engaged with the enemy.

The crowds loved it, enthusiastically cheering at this reconstruction of the civil war. It was such an amateur attempt at reconstruction that it looked more like a group of clowns pulling and pushing each other, but with no real effort to hurt each other.

This carried on for a while until, along the road, came a procession of miners, a mixture of Stemps, Tebbafeins and other races, from the direction of the mountains. Their leader marched at their head with a book held above his head. He called for peace; the miners pushed apart the two opposing sides. The leader then ordered the two chiefs to come down to the road. Once they’d done that, the lead miner made them swear on this book he was holding. It was the Constitution, which had helped keep the peace for hundreds of years. The two chiefs shook hands and then marched with their “armies” down the road with the miners in the lead, waving at the crowds.

It was a celebration held every year by a civilisation that hadn’t known war or hardship within living memory and had no idea what was to come.

Rovo 5 shrugged, thinking that they were quite right to enjoy themselves while it lasted. It followed the procession down the road, enjoying the sense of participation as the crowds cheered all around.

Then the scene faded, and Rovo5 became aware of a sad sight: it was the park. It had been the pride and joy of the city, a place of beauty and companionship. There had been a beautiful variety of ecosystems – a forest, a lake, fields. But no more. It had become a place for the dead.

But its demise could be seen in how it responded to the city’s economy. Its ecology was diminished by the City becoming more focused on its mineral wealth in the mountains and its trade with the rest of the world.

Then the bennif mines failed, Tebbafeins returned to their primal state, the City began deteriorating, and so the park was abandoned more and more – it became a wild place where no one could enjoy nature. Lastly, a plague came, and finding no other space, the City dug huge pits and the park became a cemetery. No one wanted to visit.

Rovo 5 walked through the park, accompanied by sadness as it saw a huge machine opening a new grave. Rovo 5 was not feeling heartless enough to calculate the capacity for what they were digging.

A small group of people stood on a small hill, watching in despondent silenceand with eyes wide with grief. Their mouths were covered with masks, and all of them were wearing travelling capes – they weren’t stopping here.

Two Stemp sat the back were speaking in hushed tones.

“So, that’s it? The end of the City?”

“Yep, and we’re out of here. There’s nothing here now. No one.”

“Who’s in the digger, then? We can’t leave them here alone.”

“It’s one of those robots they brought in when the Tebbafeins went wild. They’ll be clearing the City out after us for some time.”

Rovo 5 looked out at the digger’s cabin, and sure enough, there was a robot just like itself. Perhaps it was looking at itself, though it couldn’t remember well.Then someone in the group signalled, and they all started down the hill, got into a bus-like vehicle and departed, leaving the City empty of inhabitants except for a few robots.

The scene faded, and Rovo 5 was confronted with the jungle the park had become, studded with a few mounds where the mass graves were.Rovo5 walked further into the park towards a very old building hidden in the forest. It was a dilapidated old shack, the door wide open and hanging off its hinges.

Rovo 5 stepped in and moved aside the rubble and boards on the floor to reveal a trapdoor. It lifted the trapdoor up and descended into the darkness, down a long ladder.It suddenly felt tired and was willing to rest. It reached the bottom of the ladder and started walking down a labyrinth of tunnels until it got to the end of one and entered through a door into a large chamber.Inside were big shelves full of the siblings of Rovo 5, all decommissioned and many half-cannibalised by other robots for spare parts. They had all been there when the last people had left, all working hard to deconstruct what was left of the City.When the work was done, they wandered, observing the history of the City and, one by one, going off line. Rovo 5 felt pride for its siblings. They were the last witnesses of a dying civilisation.

Rovo 5 stood in front of an empty space between two of its siblings and stepped into it, taking a moment to appreciate this moment – it was sad and tired, but so content at what it and its siblings had achieved. Then it initiated self-suspension, feeling with some solemnity each system shutting down, until finally Rovo 5’s awareness itself shut down and was no more.Rovo5’s task had ended, and now it was indefinitely turned off, not knowing if it would be switched back on by another civilisation.

The Flood and the Arena

The sun hovered over the watery horizon, preparing to set for the night. From a small shack on an island emerged two humanoid figures carrying sacks. One was tall; the other, short. Their amphibious skin was fully exposed with no clothing to cover it. Their faces were faintly ape-like with large eyes that reflected the setting sun, and their scalps and jaws were covered with fleshy appendages, reminiscent of Medusa’s head of snakes from Greek myth.

They reached the edge of the island where there was a big, dark, round raft, and got in with their sacks. The tall one pushed off to let the raft float in water; the short one sat and watched as the tall one took a staff out of her sack along with an orb glowing with a pale light. She planted the staff in the middle of the raft and then placed the orb on top of it, which illuminated small runes all over the raft. Very gently, the raft began moving on the water, making small ripples around it.

The tall one looked wistfully at the short one and sighed.

The short one looked back and said “What is it, mother?”

“We are building the future, my dear Razhi.”

“Why look so sad about it?”

“The future is a long, long way away; we may never get to see it.”

Razhi’s mother sighed again.

Razhi looked quizzically at his mother, then shrugged and cast his gaze over the darkening water. It wasn’t for him to understand the strange ways of adults. It was enough for him to trust his mother – it had served him well thus far.

In the water he saw fish, big and small, and just a few metres down, in the fading light, he could see the sea bed. It looked deceptively solid and many creatures hid down the beneath the silt. He remembered falling in and trying to stand on the bottom, but then something grabbed him. His mother had been quick and simply plucked him out of his predicament with a parasitic oorm stuck to his leg. They were both relieved that it hadn’t been something bigger.

The water was deeper now than then. It had been getting deeper for years. The area they travelled through now had been wetland once, soggy yet solid, but now all the water was as deep as his mother was high. Things were changing, and Razhi didn’t feel it was all for the better.

“Mother, for how long have we been water people?”

“We always have been, but at one point we grew used to living on land. Now we’ve had to go back to living with water.”

That seemed to satisfy Razhi and they carried on in silence some more.

Razhi looked through the darkness and could make out a big silhouette of a building. It was an old temple, now half-covered in water. They carried on past it into open water. Hours later, they came to another building studded with small towers.

“What was this place, mother?”

“This was a great palace, where celebrations took place and important decisions were made by the councils.”

“When it was land?”

“Yes. A very long time ago this was all land and the oceans were far away. This was built by another people that lived here, long before our people arrived.”

They entered the palace and came to a big domed hall. All colours had long faded to a dull green-grey, mottled with algae. The mother took the glowing orb from the staff and placed it in her bag. The runes on the raft turned dark, and it stopped moving.

“This is a good place for fishing,” the mother proclaimed.

“Is there much to catch here?” Razhi was sceptical.

“You’d be surprised!”

The mother took a chain with colourful orbs hanging off of it. She threw one end into the water and it sank way down, anchoring itself to the bottom. She attached the other end to the raft.

“I’ll come back soon. Stay right where you are,” the mother said, and she leapt into the water and dived down out of sight.

Razhi stared at the ripples, not sure what his mother would do – they’d never fished in a place like this.

He sat there in the raft, but nothing moved. He almost drifted off to sleep but was soon woken by a noise at the entrance of the palace – a small splash as someone dropped something into the water. Razhi at first thought it could be his mother, but he wasn’t sure, so he took his sack and hid under it, listening to the slow approach of the new arrival. There was a long silence as he waited, and he thought that maybe he was safe and would have lifted the bag off his head, but something bumped against the bottom of the raft.

He stayed put, not daring to move a muscle. There was a splash and an even bigger bump on the side of the raft. Razhi, terrified, hoped his mother would come back soon. Then he heard someone step into the raft with water dripping off them.

“There’s not much here,” one voice said.

It sounded young, like his own. The owner of the voice then picked up one bag, the bag Razhi wasn’t under.

“There’s not much here, but we’ll take it,” the young voice said.

Razhi heard the footsteps come closer to him, and then the bag he hid under was lifted up. He screamed.

Before him, surprised, a boy screamed back – the sound reverberating around the palace’s dome. He was the same age as Razhi but a bit stockier.

Razhi stood up and staggered backwards, and nearly fell off the raft, but he was lifted up high in the air and suspended by one arm by the big stranger behind him. He struggled against the tight grip, but with no success. His efforts just brought laughter from his captor, who was an adult, but stockier than Razhi’s father.

“Uzh,” said the adult, “this is a tiddler – maybe we should throw him back in?”

The other boy, Uzh, laughed.

The adult smiled at Razhi. “Why, aren’t you the son of Tel? Razhi, isn’t it? I’m Waan, a friend of your mother’s, and this is my son Uzh. Uzh, you remember Razhi, don’t you? You two played together at last year’s market gathering.”

Uzh and Razhi looked at each other, remembering the time they ran between the stalls and splashing around in the pools. Waan put Razhi back down in the raft, and the two boys smiled at each other. They started shy, but it wasn’t long before they were enthusiastically looking over the edge of the raft at some fish. It was a common interest for both of them.

“I’ve never seen a blue one like that before,” said Razhi.

“Oh, I’m always catching them. Not much flavour, but good in soup!”

Then Waan interrupted. “Hey, Razhi, where’s your mother at?”

“I don’t know where she went. She went off under water.”

Waan nodded in understanding. “I know where she is, then. We’ll wait here till she comes back.”

Razhi looked at Waan and smiled in confirmation. From the back of his mind a memory came of Uzh’s father from the market gathering – he’d been impressed by his size, but perhaps because Razhi was bigger now, his perception of Waan wasn’t quite the same, less imposing.

Waan stepped onto his own raft and looked at his orb, which sat on top of a staff, much like Tel’s. He glided his hand over it.

“Boy’s, bring the fishing orbs. We can eat while we watch something.”

Razhi and Uzh pulled up the chain with coloured orbs and saw fish trapped inside. They would eat well tonight.

Razhi looked at Waan, seeing he had set up the orb’s image viewer. Light shone from it, creating a hologram that floated just above the water’s surface. They all sat down in Waan’s raft as they watched images of the ancient past. They saw the palace they were in, but looking new and not flooded with water. There were still plenty of people, too.

The two boys were captivated and amazed at how different everything looked, how colourful everything was, and how there was enough land to walk everywhere without rafts. They had tucked into their fill of fish and were quite tired. Razhi and Uzh fell asleep watching the orb’s images and dreamt dreams of walking long distances and moving around on land with wheeled vehicles.

The next morning, Razhi awoke to Uzh eating more fish. They were alone.

“Where’s your father, Uzh?”

“He went to look for your mother,” Uzh said through a mouthful. “Said that Tel was taking too long, so he went off to look for her.”

“Are they still gone?”

“No, they’re talking just over there.”

Uzh pointed to the palace entrance where Tel and Waan stood on Tel’s raft, engrossed in conversation. From their animated manner, it seemed they were discussing something quite serious.

“They’ve been like that for ages. I was told to stay here – I still don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Uzh looked quite disappointed. Then he handed Razhi some fish, which he accepted and ate quite happily.

After Razhi had eated two fish, there was a sudden break in the conversation – Tel and Waan just sat looking at each other and sighing. They had come to a decision.

Tel stood up and signalled to the two boys. “Time to go,” she said to them.

Uzh stood up and touched the orb on the stick, and it lit up, along with all the runes on the sides of the raft, which then moved towards the other raft and stopped beside it.

“We’ve had confirmation from the Elders. We must go to the Arena,” said Tel.

She motioned to Razhi to get in the raft with her, whilst Waan got into his with Uzh.

Razhi had never been to the Arena, though he had seen it from a distance as a speck on the horizon. In the past, it was a place for all sorts of sports, but now it housed the Elders, those of Razhi’s people who had attained a venerable old age and were now observing the changes in the world and were in charge of an ancient secret that was said to be buried beneath the Arena. Razhi wondered how anything could be underground without being flooded.

They left the palace in the light of the morning sun and went on their way.

It took ages to travel to the Arena. On the way they saw other signs of past civilisations, ruins everywhere. There were some islands on which some life still clung. One evening they came to one of these islands that they could shelter on. There was a small cabin in which they sheltered for the night.

Just before sunset Razhi could see the outline of the Arena on the horizon. His mother had said it would take most of the next day to get there, and that they’d have to make an early start.

They all went to sleep, but Razhi didn’t get much sleep. He was wondering what they were going to the Arena for and what did the Elders have to do with this. He and Uzh had asked their parents but received no reply to satisfy their curiosity. Tel and Waan knew something, something that made them sad, but they could not or would not share what was on their minds.

 

 

 

The next day, after a long journey in which the Arena only got bigger, they gasped in amazement at its real immensity when they’d reached it. Dotted around, from the horizon to the Arena, there were lots of other rafts all heading towards the Arena and entering a giant archway.

Tel and Waan stood high in their crafts, whilst their sons sat behind them, small and quiet. They entered the archway into a long, dark tunnel, only getting a glimpse of their destination as a distant light. The walls and ceiling reflected nothing of the light of their rafts.

Tel turned around and spoke to her son and Uzh. “You must be quiet from here on in. Whatever happens, you must not say a word, understand?”

The two boys nodded and pinched their lips in the common sign for silence.

They all quietly looked ahead until finally they reached the end of the tunnel. Slowly floating out of it, Uzh and Razhi were amazed at what they saw: huge walls in the form of a circle. There were rows of seats around the edge for the spectators of long ago, in the centre stood a huge mound sticking out the water, and all around were lots of rafts with occupants all facing the mound.

An aisle had been left between the rafts for new arrivals to reach the mound, as the rafts of Tel and Waan did now. As they floated along between the crowds of other rafts, Razhi noticed that there were no children on them. Then he looked at the mound and saw all the children there, crowded around the Council of Elders at the top of the mound.

Hanl, the leader of the Council, stood at the water’s edge to welcome the newcomers. The rafts that had reached the mound, before Tel and Waan, unloaded their children and went to wait in the crowd of rafts spread around the Arena. The elders on the mound then grouped the children together. There must have been hundreds – more than Razhi had ever seen.

As they got near the mound, Waan took the lead, getting to the mound before Tel. There he greeted Hanl, then, after presenting Uzh to Hanl, turned and joined the parents in the other rafts.

Then came Tel’s turn, and he approached the mound, greeting Hanl.

She turned to Razhi. “It’s okay, son. Join the other children.”

Hanl beckoned to Razhi who looked at his mother.

“What is happening, mother?”

“The future, son, it needs you.”

Tel put his hand on Razhi’s shoulder to comfort him and urged him forward.

Razhi took a deep breath; then got off the raft into the waiting arms of Hanl.

“It is okay,” said the elder, “no need to be afraid. Join the other children. They are waiting for you.”

Razhi went to stand next to Uzh and watched his mother take her place amongst the other rafts. He didn’t take his eyes off her and ignored the new children that were joining him on the mound.

Eventually, there were so many children and so many rafts that he lost sight of his mother. He and Uzh held hands so as not to lose each other.

There were now fewer rafts entering the Arena, and the last few children arrived at the mound. Then the gates to the Arena were shut, and the elders gathered at the top of the mound. Hanl stood on a pedestal and signalled for silence. Only the water and the occasional bump of rafts could be heard.

Hanl held a glowing orb in her hand and spoke into it; her voice emanated from the orbs on all the rafts and reverberated around the Arena.

“Welcome, brothers and sisters! We are an ancient people with an ancient history. We have come a long way, and our destination is so near, yet another destination exists beyond the horizon!”

In unison the crowds grunted in affirmation.

Hanl continued, “Our people once flew across the skies and sailed in giant ships on which many could sail. We covered the world with cities and the farms that fed them. Our technology gave us long and comfortable lives, and we thrived and lived in harmony with each other and the world.

“Then came the fading, and we knew in our hearts that this could not go on forever, that we must one day leave our cities and farms behind, retreating back into the wild from where we came with what little technology could help us survive. Our communities dispersed and we lived, as now, solitary with only our children for company.”

Hanl looked at the children gathered together with tenderness. Her eyes met Razhi’s, who at once felt the love there.

“Our world flooded. Cities became lakes, and we learnt to live aquatically as our ancient ancestors did.”

At once, the gathered made gurgling noises or splashed the water with their hands.

“And that is how we live still. But we did it for a reason. We know that our people must fade, and the world undergo renewal. We know this because our ancestors knew it and have experienced the cycles of this world before. And so they passed this knowledge down to us.”

There was more grunting, gurgling and splashing from the gathered.

“And now is the time for seeding, and our young must go for the Long Rest before reawakening in a new world that we will not see.”

There was consternation among the children – they didn’t know what all this meant. But at that moment the voices of all the parents were raised in wordless harmony, the sound reverberating all around them and within them. The children immediately calmed down and started to hum themselves, all holding hands with their neighbours.

Maintaining the tone, the parents in their rafts took their orbs and placed them in the water whereupon they floated around the rafts, bumping into each other and gradually congregating around the mound.

The elders encouraged the children to take an orb each. Razhi approached the water’s edge and took an orb, looking at it in wonder and confusion. He’d never been allowed to touch the one his father had. It was supposed to carry all the knowledge of the past, though he had only seen it do a few things, like illuminating dark places and activating the raft.

When all the children had collected their orbs, Hanl, who was still standing on her pedestal, placed her orb on a metal trapdoor by her feet, and she opened it. She beckoned the children to enter into it.

Razhi didn’t have much time before he went down, so he tried to look for his mother. But for all he searched, he just couldn’t see her. It wasn’t until he’d reached the top that he saw his mother near the back of rafts, a look of encouragement on her face, and her hand held up in a final farewell.

Razhi felt comforted and held his hand up in response, heartened that his mother’s love went with him.

A child behind him was crying, scared of what was happening, of where they were going.

Razhi tried to comfort him. “Don’t worry, we’re doing this for the future,” and he held out his orb to emphasize his point.

It seemed to grow just a bit brighter, and the other child smiled, taking heart, wiping away his tears and looking at the trapdoor with a new resolve.

Then it was Razhi’s turn to enter the trapdoor. Hanl touched him on his shoulder and closed her eyes briefly in a wordless blessing, before releasing him and helping him lower himself down the hole to descend the ladder.

It was dark at first down the hole – so dark that he could barely see the rungs of the ladder. But little by little the cramped tunnel seemed to get lighter and lighter. The tunnel ended, and Razhi found himself on the floor of a big chamber, the walls of which were glowing just like the orbs that all the children were holding. Uzh came down right behind him. They were all gathered there, waiting to see what would happen next, watching as more children entered the chamber.

“What do we do now, Uzh?” asked Razhi.

Uzh just shrugged and looked around. “Looks like no one else has any idea either.”

As Razhi looked around again, he noticed something that he hadn’t noticed before: the floor was covered with glowing lines. It was as if they had just appeared, because he couldn’t remember being there before.

As the last child came down and the trapdoor closed, Razhi and Uzh were examining the lines at their feet, wondering what they could be for. Then they shared a knowing look, realising the exact same thing – they lowered their orbs down onto the floor which started moving of their own volition. The two followed their orbs, moving children out of their way. The children just stared at them, confused by what they were doing, though some followed their example, putting their orbs on the floor to follow them along the lines.

The orbs disappeared into tunnels around the chamber, and the children, following their orbs, started disappearing down them. Razhi found that he was separated from Uzhi as they went down different tunnels. They weren’t dark tunnel, but were likewise illuminated like the chamber they had come from. Razhi heard lots of little feet shuffling behind him.

After a while, the tunnel widened out into a long chamber filled with rows of large, pale white oval pods. Razhi’s own orb stopped at the foot of one pod, and a hole appeared in it, inviting Razhi to enter.

He froze, feeling a lot of trepidation. Apart from Hanl’s speech, nothing had been explained to him, and he still had no idea why he was there or what he should do. The children that were behind him began lining up in front of the other pods, all frozen in uncertainty.

The orbs began glowing stronger, and from them were projected the faces of their parents, floating in front of the pods.

Razhi looked at his mother’s face in front of him, wearing the same encouraging expression that Razhi had seen before lowering himself down the trapdoor.

“Come,” the face said.

Razhi felt comforted again, regaining the courage and certainty about what he was doing and why he was doing it. He looked around at the other children; some were still looking unsure, but a lot more seemed happy to be there.

He called to them, “Everything’s going to be okay – we’re doing this for the future, for our future. Let’s go meet it!”

Many nodded their heads, and they all stepped into their pods, which then sealed behind them. There they would stay for a long time, like seeds in the ground. Razhi didn’t know how long. He looked into his pod and stepped into it, to await the time the world was ready for him and his kind to awaken and recreate the world.

Planet Harvest

The Great Disk hovered over another dying planet, scanning its atmosphere, terrain and seas. Rich resources, animal, vegetable and mineral, were there for the reaping, but the star was growing bigger and bigger, hotter and hotter. For millennia, the planet’s biosphere had been keeping the atmosphere just right to keep it hospitable. At the beginning, the atmosphere had trapped the heat from the star within it. Then, as the star got stronger, the biosphere adapted, keeping the temperature at a constant.  Now the limit was being reached, and any sudden changes could be fatal – just one big eruption and the whole system could collapse.

The time was near, according to predictions on the Great Disc’s computer. It wouldn’t stand another big shock. Living planets were protected from exploitation by galactic law, with all mineral and biological resources left intact. But once they lived out their natural lifetimes, these laws no longer applied, and licensed harvest ships could come to collect valuable resources that were no longer ‘in use’.

Captain was briefing her team about this next mission. She looked at each one again. There was Sid, a Gawbbl. He was a veteran scout, deft at cartography and navigating different terrains. Then there was Ashen, also a Gawbbl, an experienced tactician that coordinated the drones in different formations. Scars of initiation showed through their hairy features and all over their long ears – tattoos even covered their pointed fangs. Then there was Sharhin, new out of the academy. She would be working with the scanners, checking on the internal state of the drones as well as what materials and organisms there were as they flew over the planet’s surface. Her scaly face looked inattentive, her large eyes drooping slightly, but that was just a feature of all Karbbn females when listening attentively. Captain knew she was listening and keeping her sight perfect for the work ahead.

Captain looked awfully like a Gawbbl, but with broader features, lighter hair, bigger teeth and a shaggier mane around her neck. She was a Kellen with many years’ experience of harvesting – and this would be her last one before she retired to her home planet Keln. It would be a bitter sweet celebration for her, but she knew that even if she and her team didn’t harvest the Memory, the hunt for it would be worth it. The many beautiful worlds she had seen was reward enough!

The Memory – if Captain’s team didn’t know about it before, they knew about it now. Many planets that had been harvested contained within them a secret trove of information about the planet’s history and also the resources that could be found on it. It was a great honour to find it, but an even greater honour to share the riches of what it contained.

“Any doubts or questions?” Captain asked.

Each of her team members shook their heads. They’d actually gone over this several times and were just anxious to get out and do it. They left their meeting chamber and set off for their designated control room from where they would direct their drones. They passed several other teams, likewise heading to their control rooms. A few nodded in Captain’s direction, honouring possibly the greatest veteran on the Great Disk right now. She was respected so much that even the other captains called her Captain.

There was one team about to enter their control room – Captain paused midstride upon seeing them but then carried on as though she hadn’t seen them. Sharhin looked quizzically at Ashen, who whispered carefully, “It’s Axler, Captain’s main rival.”

Sharhin looked at what she thought was Axler, a big monster that seemed too big for a control room. On its chest was a shelf on which an angry little fuzzball sat.

“Cute pet,” said Sharhin almost a little too loud.

Ashen looked shocked and furiously shook her head. Sharhin soon found out why – the little fuzzball perked up and made a rude noise at Captain.

“Hey,” it shouted, “don’t expect any special treatment just because this is your last Harvest.”

“Oh, I won’t, Axler,” responded Captain over her shoulder.

Sharhin realised her mistake just in time – Axler was the fuzzball, not the monster.

Captain continued coolly, “And don’t expect me to go soft on your rooky ass!”

The fuzzball guffawed and went inside the control room with his team. He was no rooky, but compared to Captain, everyone was.

Captain lead her team to their control room, in front of which was a grey leather-skinned verifier, already taking notes as they arrived.

“IDs please,” he said with not an ounce of emotion.

Beginning with Captain, he scanned the eyes and finger prints of each of them.

“You may enter,” he waved them through. “Please do not touch the controls or interfere with any of the systems until the Grand Judge gives the go ahead.”

They all filed in taking their seats with Captain in the middle – Sid to her right, Sharhin to her left, Ashen in front and the verifier discreetly seated behind them. Each of them with their own small screens as well as one big one in front of them all. On the main screen they could see the planet covered with water and some fairly dry bits of land. In the lower left corner there was a counter, giving five minutes to start.

The main screen split in two, one side showing the planet, the other showing the belly of the Great Disk and the portal where all the drones would leave to then go down to the planet. Countdown reached one minute and the portal began opening. Once fully open, the drones were lowered out. There were thousands of them belonging to about five hundred teams. The controls in front of the teams came alive and everyone began checking systems.

“Ten seconds,” the verifier said.

“Good luck, everyone,” said Captain, with an air of relaxed authority.

“Three, two, one, you are ready to begin.”

On screen, thousands of drones went down to the planet to begin their search for Memory.

“I have received our assigned zone,” reported Sid. “We can begin heading in that direction.”

“Check,” confirmed Captain and making adjustments on her controls.

Their drones diverged from the rest in the direction of their assigned zone. At the same moment, another group of drones also diverged.

In theory, the teams couldn’t communicate to each other except through their verifiers, but the lead drone of this team was swerving and twisting, which Captain knew was a signal from another team. She looked over at the verifier, who didn’t seem to be paying much attention.

“Who is it?” Ashen looked at Captain.

“It’s Axler,” she whispered back. “It seems he’s going to the zone right next to ours.”

Captain sent a message back with a few swerves and twists of her own lead drone:

G O O D L U C K

Y O U N E E D I T

CAPTAIN

And so their drones reached the atmosphere and they got a good view of the landscape below them. It was a coastal land filled with hills and mountains, riddled with lots of cave networks, according to the specs.

Sharhin was excited as their drones approached the planet’s surface to find Memory.

“Let’s go win this thing!” she cried.

“It’s not all that important to win,” Captain sighed.

“I don’t understand; isn’t it a competition?”

“Yes,” replied Captain, “but the honour is found more in the sharing of Memory than being the one to find it. Once it has been found and you see it, you’ll understand.”

“But you’ve won so many, Captain.”

“Yes, it’s true, and maybe that’s why I know winning isn’t that important.”

Sharhin returned to her controls, pensive. She had a lot to learn from Captain, but this Harvest was her one and only chance to learn from her.

Captain directed their drones towards a group of hills.

“Sid,” said Captain, “Where best to start?”

“Three degrees to the left,” Sid replied, “I’ve sent you the coordinates.”

Captain looked at the coordinates and the point at which a hill slowly rose from the coast. Sid had also included a suggested route to follow.

“Ashen, what do you suggest?”

“I think alternating formation 2B at medium speed and medium concentration towards that hill should work.”

“I concur,” and so Captain programmed in the course.

She turned to Sharhin, “Anything yet?”

Sharhin looked up, “Nothing yet. A few class D minerals and very basic lifeforms.”

All the information they were gathering had already been collected by Memory, so they had no need to go thoroughly, especially as it was Memory itself they wanted. They just had to find it, it was continuously moving around the planet, so any of the teams might find it.

Once they’d set up basic patterns of scanning and a course, there wasn’t much to do. The technology did most of the work. However, personal eyes could always pick some things out better than impersonal scanners, so it paid not to stray too far from their stations.

Sid took control of one drone, separating it from the rest and started to make a map of the area, making possible routes for scanning. He was also looking at the meteorology, seeing that it was clear for miles around and nothing should interfere with their work for a while. The land they were assigned was all low-lying hills with a few small lakes scattered around. All the vegetation here was a rusty green, adapted to the light of the local star. Upon closer examination, there seemed to be networks of tunnels and caves.

“Heplum!” Sid whispered, but not quietly enough.

“Report, Sid,” ordered Captain.

“We’re in a class 13CF landscape. This is going to take a while.”

Captain shrugged, “We’ll do a surface scan, then you can move onto a more detailed scan beneath the surface. We have time.”

Sid doubted it, but didn’t want to say this out loud, so he carried on mapping hoping the tunnels weren’t too complicated. He turned the drone towards the coast and scanned there, finding yet more possible tunnel openings. He marked them on the map to be investigated later. Just then, he caught sight of a group of drones in Axler’s scan zone and froze, watching them. He was deliberating whether to call their attention and tell them about the tunnels in case they had the same. There was plenty of rivalry between teams, but also a sense of comradeship and cooperation. Unfortunately, behind him, the verifier cleared his throat.

“Move on please. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that interaction with other teams is illegal.”

Sid nodded and carried on with his mapping. It probably didn’t matter; Axler had probably already discovered how difficult it was.

They spent several days like this, mapping and scanning. The weather was mostly kind to them, though one day of storms made them shelter their drones somewhere safe. And Sid cracked the shell of a drone, meaning he had to wait half a day for it to be replaced.

Most of it was tedious. Sharhin complained and Captain told her to hold her tongue. Everyone understood Sharhin, they’d all been there, but to hear that every day didn’t help morale.

—————————————————————————————————-

It happened one day that the whole team had gone for a bit of respite, leaving Sharhin alone, checking on the internal systems of the drones. She was testing their external scanners when something appeared on a scanner.

She watched the signal move away from her drones and into a cave near the sea, near Axler’s territory. Without thinking, she went to Sid’s control station and used his drone to follow the signal. The drone entered the cave, which was filled with water, and immediately the signal returned. It seemed to be hovering just outside the range of the drone’s lights, and then it carried on moving further into the cave. It wasn’t long before Sharhin noticed that the drone had crossed the border into Axler’s territory. She wasn’t bothered though. The entrance to the cave was in Captain’s territory, and she doubted anyone would mind her taking a quick peak. And anyway, she wanted to see what she was following.

The tunnel opened out into a chamber with the entrance to another tunnel on the other side, which is where the signal went. She followed it even faster, trying to catch up with it, and then the signal disappeared. She stopped where she thought it was but could only scan the area visually. All she saw were the walls of a sandy and smooth tunnel. One thing did catch her eye – on one side of the tunnel was a bump where it shouldn’t have been.

On Sid’s drone there was a harpoon with a magnetic lock, designed to hold onto Memory. Sharhin carefully aimed it at the camouflaged bulge. At that moment, the bump tried to move quickly, but Sharhin’s trigger finger was quicker.

A metal egg shape shot passed Sid’s drone, back down the tunnel they had come from, dragging the drone with it. Sharhin tried to maintain control but the egg was stronger.

Just then, Captain came in, “Sharhin! What are you doing?”

Sid and Ashen were right behind her.

Captain, didn’t wait for an answer; she ordered everyone to their stations straight away. Sid shoved Sharhin aside and quickly recovered his drone from bouncing around on the walls of the tunnel. With preternatural speed, he adjusted the movements of his drone to follow Memory.

The verifier walked in with food stains around his face, “What’s going on?”

“Recovery of Memory in progress,” Captain replied.

“Where?” he demanded.

Captain paused to check her maps, “A hundred metres outside our zone in Axler’s.”

The verifier let out a disgusted snort before approaching his own station.

Captain directed her drones as quickly as possible to the cave’s entrance.

“Almost in position to capture Memory,” said Captain.

“Almost at the exit,” responded Sid.

There was a bang on the door.

“What was that?!” Sharhin asked.

“That was Axler,” said Ashen.

“Seriously, that little critter?

Ashen frowned at Sharhin.

“He is a captain, not a critter. And the thump was actually his bodyguard.”

For a moment, Sharhin looked visibly shaken.

“Stop chatting,” ordered Captain, “we’re almost there. Sid?”

“Yes, Captain, almost there,” Sid confirmed.

On one screen, Sid’s drone clung on to Memory. On another screen, the rest of the drones reached the cave entrance.

“Ashen, formation A.”

“On it!”

The drones formed a circle around the cave entrance as close as they could hover. Captain then pressed a button and strands of thread shot from each drone to the others to form a net.

Within seconds Memory shot out of the cave into the net. It rose to the sky, pulling all the drones with it. It took a lot of concentration and willpower to get them under control, but Captain managed it, making it look easier than it was. Once she had done that, she set them on a course for the Great Disk.

She then got up, walked to the door and opened it. At once she was hit by a tirade of insults and expletives. Axler stood on the shelf on his bodyguard’s chest.

“You have broken a Cardinal Rule! You trespassed on my territory. What the Heplum were you thinking?”

“First,” began Captain calmly, “we did indeed find it in your territory, but, I think you’ll find, if you check with the verifier, that the cave system only opens in our territory and so is ours. The other thing, the capture was done in our territory. We have broken no rules.”

The verifier nodded his head in confirmation.

Axler huffed and puffed, not quite able to accept it, but Captain had an idea.

“Since this is my last Harvest, you can have the privilege of joining me and my team to watch the Hatching.”

At this, Axler’s mood changed slightly.

“I suppose I could join you, and be accompanied by my team?”

“We’ll make the space,” Captain nodded.

She closed the door on Axler and went back to her chair to watch the ascent.

“I’m sorry,” said Sharhin, “That was my fault.”

Captain turned her head and looked sternly at Sharhin.

“Yes, it was, and I’ve just saved your skin.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Then Ashen and Sid started laughing, and Captain’s face broke into a huge grin.

“But you have made this the most memorable Harvest ever: a good first Harvest for you and good last Harvest for me.”

Then Captain looked wistful, “I’m happy to have had you three on my team – honoured, in fact! I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

She looked at the screen as the team of drones left the atmosphere, feeling the triumph of her last Harvest.

Sid got up, walked over to Sharhin and said to her, “You made us proud.”

“I learnt from the best!” she stood up and hugged him, then went over to Captain and Ashen, hugging them too.

The drones were almost at the space station and a voice spoke over the loudspeaker.

“Fifteen minutes until the drones arrive. The hatching of Memory will commence in twenty.”

“Let’s get going, team,” cried Captain.

They all filed out and down the hallway, passing the other teams that were congratulating them all the way.

Some whispered to each other.

“Is that her?”

“Did she do it, first Harvest?”

“She must be an amazing pilot.”

“Well, she did work with Captain. What do you expect?”

Captain’s team were halted by Axler and his team. As always, Axler stood on the shelf on his bodyguard’s chest, and behind them were a Gawbbl, like Sid and Ashen, and two other aliens that Sharhin had never seen before. One was tall and thin like an insect, the other was a bit fish-like.

“You forget about us?” accused Axler.

“Not at all,” Captain said coolly and calmly, “we wanted to make sure you went with us.”

Axler looked surprised, though tried not to show it.

“Please, follow us,” said Captain.

They all carried on down the long corridor and finally reached a big door on their left. Captain approached it, taking out a key card from her jacket pocket and passing it in front of the door. It opened and the two teams entered a circular room, around which they could all just fit. In the centre of the floor was a round trapdoor surrounding by a barrier made of bars.

The moment of the Hatching had come – they would receive first-hand the reward they had earnt: a record of all the riches that could be found on the planet below.

The tension was building, and even the calmest of them couldn’t quite keep from fidgeting. But soon the trapdoor opened itself and up through it came Memory. It levitated right up to the ceiling and projected a hologram just below it for the teams to see.

It was another alien Sharhin had never seen before. It was a bit like her, but it had no scales and smaller eyes. It wore a dark read robe with a hood that barely covered the little bit of hair stubble growing on top of its head.

“That’s one strange alien,” said Sharhin.

One of Axler’s team tutted at her disrespect.

Axler himself started to explain, “It’s an alien from the other side of the galaxy. They almost destroyed their home planet, but our civilisation prevented that. We saved them and gave them another planet to colonise under strict supervision. You can sometimes find them amongst the colonies. Not too bright, but they’re willing to learn.”

The hologram then began to talk, reading off a list of all the minerals to be found, how much and where. Greedy eyes were popping out of skulls. A whole natural history was described as Memory went through the different geological and ecological ages. At one point it described a species that reached their own Stone Age, but they never got further than that before going extinct.

The planet was now at tipping point – the star had grown bigger and hotter, and the planet could no longer adapt its atmosphere to the change, and so any sudden shock could kill the biosphere off. Small pockets of subterranean life still existed, and these had to be protected, but ecosystems on the planet’s surface were in terminal decline.

The hologram described the last of the biggest mineral deposits and then faded away.

Sharhin stared into the now empty space, her expression one of awe.

“Captain, you were right, the honour is in the sharing. So many people need the gifts of this planet. How can we not?”

“So it’s not just the winning that’s important?” Captain asked.

Sharhin’s face broke into a big grin.

“No!”

A figure appeared from the door and strode in amongst the two teams – it was the Great Judge.

“Congratulations to you all. This has been a very good Harvest. I must ask you, what you would do with all this wealth?”

Captain straightened herself up, preparing to give the prescribed answer.

“I would keep it for myself, but it is too much for one person. And I would share it amongst my team,” she looked pointedly at Axler to include him, “but we are still too few. I ask a small portion of this wealth, but that the rest should be spread amongst the stars for the peoples that live there.”

“Very well,” began the judge, “it is odd that with so much wealth you would keep only a small amount for yourself, but it is a noble thing you have decided. The honour falls to you to name the planet. What would it be?”

“I would name it Sharhin,” replied Captain, “for the person that first found Memory.”

Everyone in the room nodded their approval, leaving Sharhin a little more than humbled.

The judge then left and everyone else began to leave, except for Captain and Axler, who remained behind to talk.

Sid slapped Sharhin on the back, “You’re a planet, now! I haven’t even managed that.”

“Nor me,” said Ashen, giving Sharhin a big hug.

Both Gawbbls looked at her proudly, their tattooed grins making them looking quite savage.

Then Sharhin looked quizzical, “So what happens to our team? Do we get a new leader?”

“No,” Ashen shook her head sadly, “our team will be disbanded. We’ll have to find other teams. That should be easy for you – your name is legend!”

The door of the chamber behind them opened and out came Captain and Axler. Captain walked in silence to her team, hugged each one of them and stood back to talk to them. Axler jumped back on the shelf on his bodyguard’s chest.

“Ashen, Sid, Sharhin, thank you all for making my team a success, right up to the last Harvest,” she fixed each one with her gaze, then left without any explanation.

Without missing a beat, Axler jumped from his platform to Sharhin’s shoulder, startling her.

“Hey, Sharhin, I hear you’re free to join another team. Wanna join mine?”

Sharhin wasn’t sure. She looked at Ashen and Sid for a little help, but they just raised their eyebrows and shrugged their shoulders. It was up to her.

She’d heard Axler was tyrannical and had had problems with past team members, but at the same time his success rate was high and a lot of harvesters gained experience with.

Sharhin looked up, then down, then she turned her head to Axler.

“Yes, I think I will.”

She had nothing to lose and whole worlds to gain.

Dissolving Utopia

People all over the planet Tarva were celebrating in the streets, celebrating centuries of peace and the abundant life all could enjoy. It was, quite literally, a utopia at the height of its life. It could just go on forever.

Or could it?

Korba looked once more at his notes – he was to give a speech before the World Council, that itself would be broadcast planetwide to all three tarvan races. This news could radically change everything for the tarvans – just because the world was a utopia, it didn’t mean that the challenges had disappeared; they had just discovered ways to deal with them in creative ways. And once again, they would have their creativity tested.

Korba sat in the hallway with his colleagues, Tsheiba the historian and Kex the geologist – each one a chief in their respective field, except Korba. Katxa the chief of astronomy was too old to travel, so her chief assistant Korba had to go to represent her.  They were to present their case before the World Council, a small group that represented the interests of the entire planet. The Council was mostly nominal, with little need to exercise its power, though the power it could wield if necessary was great. It would occasionally convene when a planetary problem arose, such as now. The three experts had come to make their case as three harbingers of doom.

Korba then stood for the seventh time to begin pacing the hallway again. Tsheiba, trying not to show her nervousness, snapped at Korba.

“Sit down!”

“I can’t, the waiting is too much!”

“Sit down!”

Before he could do that the usher, a short, slim and blue-skinned teilan, like Korba, came out, “The Council will see you now.”

In that instant Korba froze, and it took some encouragement from the usher to move.

The Council Hall was a medium-sized room, with a crescent table for nine people, three chairs for a representative of each of the Tarvan races. Behind it there was a long window looking out onto the city of Gorbon. Before the table, in the centre of the room, were placed three chairs, in which the three experts were expected to sit down. Kex and Tsheiba did so straight away, used to this place and its protocols. Korba did so hesitantly.

They waited just a few seconds, the longest few seconds in Korba’s young life, then the Council entered. First came the three teilan representatives, the most populous race on Tarva. Following them came the three taller kemphan representatives, three bulky figures covered with sandy coloured scales, though slightly darker and older than the geologist Kex. Next came the three zadican representatives, pale, tall and lithe, and hardly visible under their flowing robes.  There were few of them on Tarva – Korba had rarely seen any, and never this close.

Whilst the other council members sat, one teilan remained standing, and commenced speaking.

“The Council has read the report and we are in agreement over the findings, but we would request an explanation on the issue from yourselves, for our benefit and that of all tarvans.”

But the explanation isn’t half as interesting as the events leading up to it, so let us begin there…

 

It was four months ago to the day when Korba noticed the signal coming from the moon whilst observing a cluster of stars. At first he thought it was a glitch interfering with the radio telescope, but technicians soon discovered the source of the signal and found complex patterns within in it, which could only be understood as code. Then an odd thing happened – another signal responded from within Tarva back to the moon, and it continued, a regular interchange of signals between the planet and its moon. Korba called the chief astronomer, Katxa.

“What do we do, Katxa?”

She thought for a moment and with a flick of her wrist a screen on the wall lit up showing the face of a kemphan. It was Kex, head of geology.

“Katxa, my old friend, what may I do for you?”

“Kex, no time for pleasantries, I’m sending you some coordinates. A signal is being sent from the moon and back. There appears to be some code within it.”

Kex looked away from his monitor a moment at something off-screen and furrowed his great eyebrows.

“That is very odd, extremely. This is the site of a protein pool that has drained itself. I was just arranging to send teams down to investigate.”

“Drained?”

Kex nodded his head gravely. Nothing like this had happened, ever. And if it happened to other protein pools? Vast swathes of Tarva’s population would starve – the protein pools were what fed kemphans, teilans and zadicans alike.

Katxa took a deep breath, “Kex, I leave you to your work. We’ll carry on here and get back to you when we’ve found something significant.”

Kex nodded again and the screen went blank.

Turning to Korba, Katxa said, “Contact Tsheiba, we may need her expertise.”

Korba was confused, why they should contact the head of tarvan history – surely dusty old tomes would have nothing to say on this matter. And he voiced it.

“She has a vast archive in which we may find clues, Korba! Just get on it.”

Meanwhile, the astronomers’ own teams were getting on cracking the code, but with little to go on they couldn’t get far. Not until Tsheiba came back with some clues.

“Katxa, we’re getting a call from Tsheiba.”

A moment later her face appeared on the video screen.

“We have found a mountain of material on codes – I’ll forward those to you now. Also, I have found a curious passage about what appears to be the protein pools. Have a look.”

When sustenance dries up, an entrance be revealed.

Armed with key, make bold steps, and to the centre you must march.

Key in place, start the process, and watch Tarva unfold into space.

Katxa thanked Tsheiba and called Kex to show him the passage.

“Most curious!” exclaimed Kex, “Yes, there is a small tunnel in the drained pool. We have investigated it, and at the end there is a door of some kind leading to a very small room with lots of buttons. Seems to be an elevator of some kind. We haven’t done anything yet, we need more confirmation of what it is.”

Kex’s image disappeared from the screen and there was a palpable tension in the room. They were really getting somewhere, except for the “key” mentioned in Tsheiba’s passage. What was it? Where was it? What on Tarva did it look like?!

And then an exciting thing happened. Korba was watching on his screen the signal going between Tarva and its moon, and then watched as another signal was being sent directly to their position! And a small gasp went up from Katxa. Korba turned and saw, to his surprise, a glow coming from Katxa’s broach, which was a sign of her office as head astronomer. It was a piece of jewellery that had been handed down to each head astronomer from time immemorial.

“It’s never done that before,” she whispered.

Korba instantly stood up and, taking a small, handheld device, scanned the broach, which bleeped in confirmation.

“This is it! This is the key! We must get it down to Kex.”

“No, Korba, you must go yourself. Do the action yourself!”

 

Back in the World Council’s chamber, the representatives listened to the evidence. When all had been said, a Teilan stood up.

“We have heard the evidence, as have the world’s citizens. We now turn it over to them to decide whether to keep Tarva as it is or willingly submit ourselves to this process of planetary disintegration. Let the voting commence!”

Wherever the tarvans were, they took up their devices and voted. The results were coming in thick and fast. Within half an hour, sixty percent of the world’s population had voted, and nearly all in favour. Within an hour, nearly all the population had voted, with just a few holding back, as they had further doubts and queries to voice before they decided.

Two hours later, the votes were finally counted and the result was in: an almost unanimous vote in favour, with more abstentions than against.

 

And that is how Korba found himself on his way down a tunnel towards the place deep within Tarva, where the process of Tarva’s deconstruction would begin.

Korba moved down the tunnel carefully, aware that a whole planet was watching his movements. He clutched the key in his hand, as it was he who had the dubious honour of turning it, and taking the biggest gamble in Tarva’s history. Kex followed just behind, and one of Kex’s assistants lead the way.

Korba didn’t understand why it couldn’t have been one of them – after all, it was their natural habitat, and certainly not his. These small, cramped conditions did nothing to instil confidence in him, and he would have run out of there screaming… if two squat and stout kemphans hadn’t been blocking his way.

Lost in these thoughts, Korba didn’t realise that he was suddenly in a small chamber filled with buttons, which made him feel even more claustrophobic with two kemphans crowded in. The door closed.

Kex looked at a chart in his hands, a chart Tsheiba had given him from some of the oldest scrolls in her archive.

“If I’m right, these buttons,” and he seemed randomly press a combination of buttons, “should take us to our destination… deep within the planet.”

Suddenly Korba felt movement and a sinking feeling in his stomach. They were going down! He nearly passed out, but Kex’s assistant kept him from collapsing.

It took a while, and Korba wondered if there was enough air in that small space to breath. Just as he was feeling short of breath, their transport slowed and then stopped. The doors opened and before them was darkness. They carefully stepped forward, not sure where to go.

Kex looked at a machine in his hand, “If what I have here is right, we go straight forward. There is a large protuberance in the middle of this chamber. I’d say we head towards that. Sound fair enough?”

Korba and the assistant nodded in assent and they all walked into that darkness, until they came to a free-standing pillar. On closer inspection, they found a small dent into which the key in Korba’s hand would fit.

 

Korba placed the key in its place in the middle of that dark chamber and was amazed at the foresight of their ancestors. They knew that Tarva couldn’t go on forever. At the point when Tarva was at its strongest, it would then begin to degrade, slowly but surely. There was little choice: do it in a rational and organised way and send its people out into space to create new worlds, or let the planet fall apart and the people with it.

The lifespan of Tarva had already been decided. It wasn’t quite the end for Tarva, but it was the beginning of the end. Everything they had built over the centuries must now be slowly and methodically undone. And the people had willingly decided to do it, almost unanimously.

The key glowed more and then started melting, becoming absorbed into the pillar. All over it, glowing lines appeared, stretching all around that huge chamber, along the floor and up the walls. Korba and his companions were amazed.

The process would take several centuries to complete, but it had been irreversibly begun. The first ship detached itself from the surface of Tarva and went out into the stars. A whole universe before it.

Patterns of Nature

A Zentangle based on natural patterns

When you look around in nature what patterns do you see? There are many to choose from.

Forest Weaving

Golden Shadow

In the fading warmth of an autumn sunset, the shadows themselves glow with promise.

Rain Splash

“Rain Splash”

Another course of EcoArt begins so I’ll share my work here. Beginning the course was Movement. I watched the rain falling, and a continuous stream of water dropped from the roof and was hitting the floor, droplets of water splashing in all directions, leaving the ground soggy. Water is a very powerful example of movement in nature.

The Arena

Latest short story addition to the Tsorbanth series

“The pictures don’t do it justice.”
“No, they don’t at all. It’s huge and just so magnificent!”
The Arena loomed up ahead – its shadow was awe-inspiring to the passengers of the small space shuttle heading towards it. It wasn’t a little stadium, but a huge comet-sized rock hanging now in orbit over the world of Kasnein, where lived the kasna, a feline-like humanoid race.
“Just imagine, it’s going to take days, if not weeks to get to the core. We don’t have enough supplies.”
“Not at all! Remember your training, not everything is as it seems on the Arena. And if it does take that long, the forest will provide.”
Every year the Arena would stop off at a planet. It was Kasnein’s turn this year to host the Arena and take part in the Game, a gruelling challenge where a small group of candidates would have to gain access to the centre of the Arena to find the Eternal Star, where they would be gifted with a substantial supply of energy for their planet.
“They say it has no pilot and just floats in space.”
“Yes, and there are no cities or villages.”
“The ghoots live as animals in the forest and the hallan are said not to need physical sustenance.”
The team shuddered at their names – the beastly ghoots and ethereal hallan were the creatures native to the Arena, sworn to protect it and its treasure, and would provide many traps and challenges for the chosen team.
The leader stood up.
“Get your equipment ready, we’re almost there.”
They started picking up packs and adjusting straps, and they donned their helmets, covering their expressions of worry and determination. Orzz, the leader, was the most confident of them all, it was her job to make decisions, keep the team coordinated and orientated to their destination. Herrun was the most worried, and it was his job to carry the star node that would collect and store the energy they won. Then there was Kren and her brother Jarron, who would act as scouts and guards. They were forbidden to carry weapons in and, like the ghoots, would have to use whatever they could find on the forest floor. Still useless, of course, against the hallan, whose attacks were based on fear, distraction and deception.
The team’s craft set down and the hatch opened onto a rocky plateau. They ran, in formation, across it until they reached a precipice that gave them the full view of the Arena. They saw a huge bowl, surrounded by the wall of stone they stood on and filled with forest, all centred around a great lake. From this lake rose an island, glowing with the promise of the Eternal Star. It was magnificent, it was real and each one felt an excitement building up within them.
But, their senses heightened, they all suddenly turned, feeling something behind them, and standing there stood a pack of ghoots, hairy beasts on two legs bearing a mixture of hooves, horns, claws, fangs and tusks. All were heavily armed with crude clubs, stones axes and spears, and they had a look in their eyes that said they were ready to use them.
One particularly tall and dark one stood forward, and spoke with a surprisingly civilised tone of voice.
“You are most welcome to the Arena – we hope your sojourn here is an interesting one. We will give you one hour of safe time to descend the wall to the forest and make plans – then the hunt is on.”
The ghoots seemed to dematerialise before them, dissolving into the blackness of space behind.
Orzz quickly regained her wits, “Come on then, you heard what it said – down we go, now!”
They found a way that was like a very steep, windy and narrow stairway down the cliff’s face. The kasna were, fortunately, an agile race, so they were soon down, making camp and planning their next move. Orzz had been scanning the landscape, but trees and thick vegetation made it difficult to make out the contours of the landscape. They would have to walk into it fairly blindly and had only the guidance of a compass to tell them where they were. It didn’t point north – there was no North here – but the closer they got to the core, the faster it span. Some mysterious force interfered with most technologies, and so only skill and native wits would have to serve.
Orzz ordered Jarron and Kren off in two different directions to get some idea about routes.
“Get as far as you can and come back in twenty minutes.”
The scouts left, leaving Orzz to think through strategies – all of which were useless in the Arena, but they served to focus the mind – and Herrun to tend to the star node. He took the fist-sized crystal in his hand, turning its glowing form this way and that.
Almost exactly twenty minutes later, Kren arrived. She glanced around the clearing quickly and there was the faint flicker of concern in her eyes.
“Where’s Jarron?”
“Not here. Report first.”
“There’s a clear path ahead that leads to a stream, and seems to go beyond. And Jarron?”
“We wait one more minute and no longer. Our priority is the Eternal Star.”
Orzz was right, Kren knew, but that didn’t make having her brother missing any easier.
One minute went by, but Jarron still did not appear, and so it was they went ahead without him. Kren lead the way and Orzz took up the rear, leaving Herrun protected in the middle. They were given “safe time” but they still kept their wits about them. It would serve them later not to let down their guard now. They reached the stream where there was a ford, with only a couple of minutes left to spare, but when Kren looked around for Orzz, she was nowhere to be seen. Herrun hadn’t noticed either; he just looked at Kren with a lost look in his eyes. He was a technician, and though he’d had some military and survival training, his expertise couldn’t be relied on to get them through this situation – that honour fell to Kren, she was now the leader.
It dawned on her just how strange a situation this was – they’d been given safe time and yet two members of the team had disappeared. The ghoots had lied to them! Following the path wouldn’t be safe, and all rivers here led to the lake, so she decided to go with the flow. The water was deep and flowing, so Kren looked around and found a log. She set it afloat and the two remaining kasna grabbed hold of it, and let the river follow them.
For a while things were quiet, but occasionally they’d hear things moving around in the forest. Sometimes there were ghoot cries that seemed to come closer and then fade away as if they were chasing some other quarry. At one point the noises came so close that the kasna had to propel their craft towards a bank and hide beneath the overhanging vines. A ghoot came and stood right over them, close enough to smell, but its attention was drawn away by something. They waited for a while longer and pushed off, carrying on down the river.

They had been floating quite a while, but Kren had the impression they weren’t getting anywhere.
“Herrun, next time we come across a break in the banks, we’ll swim towards it. I want to see where we are, okay?”
Herrun just grunted in affirmation, too occupied hanging on to the log to give another reply.
Finally they reached a ford, allowing them to get out of the river and look where they were, but what they saw disheartened them. It was the same ford they had started from earlier.
“How can this happen? All rivers lead to the lake, don’t they?” Kren said.
Herrun seemed to have thought it over, “It could be the hallan. They’ve tricked us!”
Kren thought about crossing the ford and carry on down the path, but she was distracted by the smell of wood smoke and food. Neither hallan nor ghoot had need for fire, so it could mean only one thing. Orzz or Jarron were about.
“Herrun, follow me!”
And so they followed her nose in the direction of the smoke until they came to a clearing. In the centre there was a fire, with an animal of the Arena on a spit. She caught the whiff of meat and felt hungry. By the fire sat two figures, Orzz and Jarron, quietly waiting for their food to cook.
They then turned towards her with smiles on their faces, but something didn’t feel right to Kren, their eyes were blank and staring.
“Herrun, Kren, you’re just in time, we were about to eat.”
Herrun ran forward, dropping his bag on the floor, “Oh good, I’m famished and so cold! Make space.”
“Herrun, it’s another trap!”
But he wasn’t listening he was reaching for the meat, and suddenly the two figures of Orzz and Jarron melted and disappeared, along with Herrun. What was left was the clearing and a ring of ghoot surrounding Kren. They began to close in on her.
Suddenly two shadows came from behind and began attacking the ghoot, throwing mud and stones and swinging sticks. It was the distraction Kren needed, she saw the bag containing the all-important star node and she took it up and went through a gap that had opened up in the circle of ghoot.
She would have to finish this mission by herself. Herrun was the engineer that knew about the star node, but they’d all been trained a bit. She ran through the jungle, not bothering about direction, hearing the sounds of battle continue behind her.
She hadn’t been running long when she came across the shore of a lake. Could it be the lake, she thought to herself? It was covered with a thick mist, and she couldn’t see a thing. Nothing could be trusted here, everything could be a trick created by the hallan, and the mist that began to cover everything seemed to confirm this.
A log floated nearby, one that looked remarkably similar to the one she’d used earlier. She had only her instinct and gut feeling to trust, so she stepped towards the log, caught hold of it and floated into the lake. Kren could see nothing, and couldn’t orientate herself, she just kicked her legs and headed away from the shore. The more she went on the colder it seemed, and though the lake was big, it didn’t seem deep, because she’d often feel her legs bumping against solid stone or entangled in weeds. It wasn’t until a stone moved and some weeds grabbed Kren that she thought maybe they weren’t what they seemed after all.
One tendril, from foot to knee, wrapped itself around her and pulled. She grabbed tightly to the log, which was just enough to keep her afloat. More tendrils wrapped themselves around her, and slowly pulled her down log and all. As the tendrils wrapped around her Kreb wrapped herself around the log, using all her strength to stop it from floating back up. Slowly she freed one arm and took her knife from her belt. She hacked at the tendrils, and with each swipe she felt the log move up. With one final swipe the log shot to the surface carrying Kren with it. She took a long gulp of air, and tried to maintain her balance.
Kren looked around, still virtually blind, but then listened carefully, and heard water lapping gently on a shore. She had to get out of the water as quick as possible, so let go of the log and swam in the direction of the sound. Every time something brushed her leg she cut with her knife just to make sure, but it seemed the tendrils hadn’t come back. She was tiring quickly, getting very cold, and afraid of another trick, but she soon came upon solid ground, that really was solid, that rose until it emerged above the waters. Kren was on land, but what land she didn’t know.
She collapsed, not caring for a moment if she was caught, but then she thought of her planet and her people’s hope for energy from the Eternal Star, and of her companions Orzz, Herrun and her brother Jarron, and their sacrifice that allowed her to get here. She stiffly got up and walked inland, and the mist slowly parted, revealing a stony floor and what seemed to be a cliff with a cave in it. She couldn’t believe her eyes, had she finally made it? She warily approached the cave, but neither saw nor heard anything to arouse her suspicions. She entered the darkness, sniffing the stale air, and listening for any movement, but all was silence. Where she walked the walls illuminated her way, showing a corridor lined with doors. But Kren’s attention was on the faint light up ahead.
Finally, Kren came to the end of the corridor and entered a big chamber at the centre of which was a small, natural plinth with a depression in the top, just enough for the star node to fit. She went towards it, took the node out of her backpack and held it over the plinth where it floated and started spinning. As it span it began to glow brightly as the energy channelled up from the Eternal Star began to fill it. So much energy, her people would be able to use it for the development of their society, as a boost for many of their projects, which in turn would improve their lives and lifestyles. Some races glutted themselves on it, using up the energy all in one go, and then regressing to their previous state for another hundred years. Her own people had already drawn up plans to invest their energy in the development of infrastructure, technology and research, with long-term results. But only if their candidates overcame the twin challenges of the hallan and ghoots and achieved what few did.
As the node brightened, Kren noticed a change in the chamber, figures began appearing, as did tables with food. She realised she was surrounded by a feast populated by a variety of alien species, all participants in the Arena’s history.
She even recognised the faces of previous candidates that had attempted and failed the challenge of the Eternal Star, never returning to their home planet. Three faces particularly caught her attention, and her heart froze in surprise, it was her companions! They grinned sheepishly at her and she just ran towards them, wrapping her arms around each of them in turn.
“What’s happening? How did you get here?” she couldn’t understand any of this.
Had she really found the Eternal Star or was it another trick of the hallan?
Kren’s didn’t have to utter a word, her questioning face evoked an answer from Orzz.
“We are in the presence of the ghoot and hallan. This is the Feast, when the inhabitants of the Arena shed their forms of ghoot and hallan and become what they were before. They were all candidates, people that came to the Arena and failed, and for that they must remain here and live as ghoot or hallan, whichever they choose.”
Sadness overtook Kren’s face as she looked at Jarron.
“Does this mean…?”
Jarron grimaced, “Yeah, sis, we’re staying here, as ghoot or hallan.”
Kren and Jarron hugged, knowing this would be the last time they saw each other.
There was still one thing that she didn’t understand, one doubt hanging over it all.
“Jarron, what happened to you right at the beginning, did the ghoots take you?”
“No, they still kept their promise, they didn’t touch me, or Orzz for that matter.”
Kren furrowed her eyebrows, but then she had it, remembering the moment that she was surrounded by ghoots and then they were attacked.
“You’ve been with me all along! It was you and Orzz that attacked the ghoots when I was surrounded, and you’ve been distracting them all this time, drawing them away when they go close to me and Herrun. You and Orzz have been planning this from the beginning! Were you in on it, too, Herrun?”
“I’m ashamed to say that I wasn’t, I didn’t even know about their plan. I was meant to be with you at the end, but the hallan got the better of me. Not the life I imagined for myself, but at least this was we get to see the universe!”
Just then a great mammoth of an alien lofted a drinking horn, “We welcome Orzz, Jarron and Herrun to our fellowship and congratulate Kren on achieving what so few achieve. May the light of the Eternal Star go with her and her planet! Now back to the feast!”
The rest of the celebration was bitter sweet, with beautiful music and delicious fare from the forests of the Arena, and of course the glory of gaining energy for her planet, but it was all to great personal loss. She had known before that she could lose her brother and companions, or even herself, but it still hurt. If each member of her race could feel the same loss, would they allow? Probably, she would, but she’d like to think they would value this sacrifice correctly. The energy of the Eternal Star was a great gift, and was not to be taken for granted.

Time’s March and Flow

It’s a common theme: need more time! Well, why not transform the relentless March of Time (which is a human fiction, anyway) to the Flow of Time (which is natural).

March of Time

 

The Flow of Time, bathed in the elements of nature, leaving the March of Time as just another archeological layer of the past