Chapter 2.
Two Cities
From “Stellar Graffiti”, Copyright 2001 Richard Allan Olson
Indeed, life had been quite simple for the young civilization of
Archia for a very long time. Living off the land was easy, natural
predation wasn’t much of a concern, and so these bright little arboreal mammals
spent most of their time just building things; rope bridges, bamboo platforms
high in trees, and so forth. They gave very little concern to philosophical
matters. All such questions were ultimately answered by the Creator
himself, whose celestial castle dominated the sky each and every evening.
For a very long time, this was the Archian way.
Then, about two generations ago, an event occurred.
The Archians were openly, and benevolently, visited by a group of space faring
explorers. Instantly, there was great misunderstanding and culture
shock. The Archians, quite naturally, jumped to the conclusion that
these beings were “divine delegates” sent down to them by the Creator himself.
It took a very long time to establish a rudimentary communication. Towards
this end, the newcomers had insisted on having the Archians teach them THEIR
language. It did seem to be the easier way to go; after at time, the
more intelligent extraterrestrials were able to grasp ways in
which to express to the Archians the place from whence they came, and the
reasons for their coming.
But both the Archians, and the Saurians, as the explorers
called themselves, each had many questions to ask of one another. The
situation presented many great, mutual mysteries that needed addressing.
And to that day, most Archians stubbornly agreed; many very important questions
remained unanswered to ANY degree of satisfaction. (It WAS quite disappointing,
after all, to believe for so long they were conversing with emissaries from
the Creator himself, only to one day learn that the Saurians had as many
questions to ask as they did, and were not, in fact, who they were originally
suspected to be.)
The Archians didn’t seem to mind the odd comings and goings
of the Saurians. They were harmless enough. They’d set up launch
pads for flying vehicles, but these were in out of the way locations.
Their behavior was very discreet. And the bottom line, always, was;
if the Creator had any objection to what these beings were doing, the Creator
would certainly intervene. So, for the better part, there was peace
and cooperation between the two peoples.
The Saurian was reptilian, standing three times taller than the
average Archian. Very advanced, both biologically and scientifically,
they were galactic neighbors, from a relatively close star. They had
spent much time traveling at nearly the speed of light to reach Archia; more
specifically, the derelict monument. The edifice had called out to
Saurians. They’d picked up several unique signals, on entirely different
frequencies. Putting the information together revealed a beacon, of
a kind, complete with coordinates. An “eco-ship”
was built. The journey would be so long, it would be the sixth generation
that finally brought the ship to the source of the beacon. But to a
race as scientifically obsessed as they, the trip was simply a matter of
obligation. The Saurians knew of the impending collapse of the Universe,
and had for ages. It profoundly disturbed them. “Why?”, many
a Saurian philosopher had pondered, “Why does a benevolent, omniscient power
create a universe, only to mark it for certain extinction? Why is such the
case?” The journey to the derelict was really just a pitiful, final
gesture of hope. Even if anything was learned, there’d be no time left
to communicate any information back to the homeworld.
The huge eco-ship of the Saurians maintained a fixed position
above a particular region of the sprawling monument. The ship looked
like an egg, or a melon, made irregular with oblong domes adorning the surface.
The bridge was a dark, semi-circular strip cut into the broad front of the
ship. The present day commander of the Saurian delegation, Finn, was
a tall and lanky old lizard. Most of the time he wore a sour scowl
on his wrinkled, green muzzle. He stood before a large, panoramic viewing
screen, gazing out over thousands of square miles of the derelict far below.
Two of his officers stood with him.
“One lifetime isn’t enough.” he lamented. “At this
rate, we would need a thousand times a thousand lifetimes to even begin
to unlock the mysteries of this vast, impossible enigma.” Finn’s officers
solemnly voiced their agreement. “As it is,” Finn continued, “we’ve
only scratched the surface. But that is of small consequence now,
for soon, all that we know will be…”
Failing to find a pedestrian way to finish the sentence,
Finn turned to another officer seated before a bank of instruments and monitors.
“Status!” he demanded. The officer reluctantly rose to his feet and
replied, “Galaxy EMC-251 has disappeared into its event horizon, Sir.
The velocity between EMC-251 and the Pycclaisia Hole has now been accelerated
to a degree of…” The officer looked down at his monitor for the exact
figure, but Finn said, “Never mind. I’m sure its close to our calculation.”
The bridge fell silent. Captain Finn spent a minute pacing back and
forth across the deck, brooding, while the numerous officers went back to
attending their stations.
Finally, Finn stopped and abruptly announced, “As of right
now, except for those of you needed to maintain the Orient’s primary functions,
the rest of you are all relieved of your posts. The probe crews will
be recalled. Once everyone is back aboard, you’ll all be free to do
as you please. There is just one matter that needs attending.
I would like to personally address the Archian Council and finally tell them
everything. I know this isn’t necessary, but I feel that, for their
hospitality and cooperation over the years, we owe them that. I wish
this to take place tomorrow at noon. And for this formality, I will
request, but not obligate, a few individuals to volunteer as ambassadors.
I think the Council will find the news much more… palatable that way.”
Finn paused and looked around the bridge. “That is all.” he said.
In almost perfect unison, everyone exclaimed, “Here, Sir!”
The slightest of smiles broke Finn’s muzzle. “I really
only need three or four of you.” he said. “But, thank you, all.”
Unsuspected by the reptilian crew of the starship “Orient”,
two small mammals happened to be eavesdropping from behind a ventilation
screen near the ceiling, within an air duct so narrow, only an Archian could
manage to move around inside.
“Do you really understand what they’re saying?” whispered
Paji.
The companion, Milo, put his hand over Paji’s mouth, his
eyes pleading for silence, and nodded. He drew Paji very close and
whispered into his ear, “Must get back to lander now. Right now.
Let’s go.” The pair moved off, back down the shaft in the direction
from which they’d come.
Once Milo felt they were out of earshot, he said, “Something’s
going on… something they’ve never mentioned before… something really big…”
Paji waited for more, and finally said, “And that ’something’
is what?”
“I don’t know… for sure, at least. But it’s big enough,
the Green One himself wants to address the Council about it. That sort
of thing doesn’t happen very often.” Shortly, the air duct ended at
another screen. Milo carefully removed the panel, and the pair looked
down upon a cavernous docking bay. Several disc shaped vehicles floated
in circular slips that appeared to be wide open windows to space. Milo
looked around and saw no lander teams or technicians. “We’ve got to
catch the next lander back home, as soon as it leaves.” he said. “Assuming
our ‘perfect hiding place’ is still as perfect…”
Meanwhile, on the tiny blue moon below, Luna sat at the end
of a long pier in the sea, waiting. There were about a dozen others
standing along the dock, some fishing with slender poles, some were children
playing. Luna passed the time cavorting with her newfound companion,
the Aquatoo, but she kept a strict and regular watch on a specific little
island, out a ways, just down the shore. It was less than an island,
really; just a big flat rock out in the ocean. Still, Luna glanced
at it often, impatiently.
“Oh, no you don’t!” said Luna as the Aquatoo tried to climb
the railing. “We’ve been in the water several times, now, and we keep
forgetting: we don’t LIKE salt water because WE are a freshwater species.
We cannot DRINK this water. We cough and get sick when we TRY to drink
this water. Must we learn this unpleasant lesson yet another time?”
The sun was low in the west. Luna had been waiting
all afternoon. She sat at the end of the pier, idly dangling her legs
over the edge. The Aquatoo was asleep on her lap. An elderly
woman stood fishing off the side of the dock, not far away. She’d been
there much of the afternoon, occasionally smiling at the girl and her pet.
A little later, the woman reeled in her line, set down her pole, and went
over to the end of the pier to sit with Luna. “That’s an unusual animal
you have there,” she remarked of the Aquatoo.
“I know!” replied the girl with enthusiasm. “I found
him only this morning, just this side of the gorge! And he is indeed
very unusual, even in his home range. Which he is very far from.
This is what makes him even MORE unusual. You see, …” Luna then
started into a very detailed and impassioned description of the life of
the Aquatoo. The elderly woman listened with interest for quite some
time, but then suddenly interrupted, and asked, “Waiting for someone, are
you, dear?”
Luna replied, “Eh, yes. A boy friend said we were to
meet here. But I’ve been waiting all day!”
“Ha! Men.” laughed the old woman.
“Oh, no, Milo is really very nice. And bright.
It’s not like him to stand me up like this. I know he would’ve been
here by now, if at all possible. Which means, something must be detaining
him. Truth is, I’m a little worried. When he made this date,
he was so excited about… something… I don’t know what. He wouldn’t say.
He just told me to meet him here. I’m sure it was today. But
I’ve waited so long…” Luna exhaled. She looked around, and
again, out at the flat rock islet.
The woman placed a firm hand on Luna’s shoulder and said,
“Trust in the Creator, dear. If He is watching over your friend, his
passage will be safe, and you will soon be together once again. Patience,
dear. Your friend will come.”
Suddenly there came a faint sound, like the roar of a violent
storm, as heard from a great distance. The two women looked up to the
sky and saw a tiny silver spot against the deep azure of the gathering twilight.
The object could be seen falling very rapidly, and the roar became louder.
For almost a full minute, it appeared as if the circular thing intended
to keep right on falling and plunge into the sea. But as it got very
near the ground, the disc’s descent slowed to a standstill in the space
of about two seconds, and the roaring of the plummeting mass turned into
a gentle, controlled hum. The ship then positioned itself over the
flat rocky island that Luna had been watching all afternoon.
The old woman tilted her head towards Luna and asked, “Your
friend isn’t the tall, green type, is he, by chance?”
Luna was too bewildered to see the intended humor in the
remark. “Why,” she thought, “would Milo have me meet him here, at
a Saurian landing pad?”
The woman went on to say, “My own mother was about your age
when the Green Ones first came down from the sky. Once everyone learned
they were not from the Creator, she never cared for them, never trusted them…
in fact, she died a very old woman, still heading annual Council meetings
to object to the very allowing of their presence here. Yes, ma’am,
she wouldn’t give a Saurian the time of day.”
“Nowadays, who cares?” the girl replied. “They mean
us no harm. They’re just explorers from another world. They think
differently, that’s all.”
“I agree with you, dear. But it is what they do, in
fact, THINK, that has posed a troubling dilemma for some of us. The
Green Ones do not believe in the Creator, at least, not the way we do.
They speak of the home of the Father as if it were an ancient world, a huge
city of mere mortal origin, built by a long vanished people. This stands
in contradiction to the very heart of our beliefs.”
“So what?” said Luna. “Let the Green Ones believe they have
three tails. At least they make no attempt to force us to think as
they do. And for that, I am grateful.”
The woman chuckled. “That’s what I tried telling my
mother, for so many years. The sad truth is that the Saurians are indeed
clever. They know things to be true that we cannot begin to comprehend.
This gives them credibility. They have proven to us, for example,
that our notion of heavenly movement was incorrect. It is our world,
with the Father, that moves around the sun. We had always believed
our world to be the center of motion.”
Luna laughed. “A trivial detail, at best. You
see, the Saurians place so much importance upon learning HOW this works,
and WHY that works the way it does. In their obsession with questioning,
they miss the simple answer. Do not ask how or why a blossom grows.
The experience of the blossom itself is the answer to all those questions.”
During this time, the hovering disc had touched down on the
island landing pad. A section of the ship’s undercarriage had been
lowered, and a team of about half a dozen Saurians was busied with the assembly
of a transport platform.
“Yeah,” said Luna, “my friend Milo is a dissident of sorts,
himself. Not that he objects to the Saurians, mind you. Quite
the contrary. Milo is also one who likes to ask questions. ‘How?’
this, and ‘Why?’ that… Do you know, he’s spent most of his life
secretly teaching himself the spoken language of the Green Ones? Milo
is quite fluent in Saurianese. He argues that, SOMEONE needed
to learn their tongue, if only to make sure they didn’t have some sinister,
hidden agenda.”
At that time, the group of Saurians was on its way to the
mainland, riding across the water on the transport device; an anti-gravity
platform which silently hovered in mid air, just above the crests of the
waves. Luna and the woman watched as the Saurian group arrived at the
mainland, stepped onto the shore, and proceeded to march up the beach.
“They always look so serious,” said the old woman, “as if
the world were about to come to an end. Well, this day is quickly coming
to its end… I’d best be on my way, dear.” She began to collect her
fishing gear. “I’m here most days. Let me know how your friend
fares, will you, child?”
“Thank you. I will most certainly try.“ The two
held hands for a moment, then the elderly woman left.
Luna sat at the end of the pier, idly dangling her toes in
the water. The Aquatoo lay curled up and fast asleep. The sun
sank low in the west and twilight was again upon the world. Soon the
Monument began to rise in the east, and another eerie, rust-orange evening
was on the horizon.
Luna was just about to fall asleep herself, when suddenly
she heard a splashing commotion just below the end of the pier. She
dropped flat, pulled herself to the edge, and looked over.
“Most sorry for being late,” said Milo, bobbing up and down
in the water, “but we had to wait all day for this lander to even depart
from the mothership…” He coughed a couple of times, and said, “Hang
on.” Then he quickly pulled himself out of the water and climbed up
the framework of the pier.
While Luna was glad to finally see her friend, his reason
for being so very late was not immediately satisfying enough for her, and
she was a little angry as Milo climbed up and stood before her, dripping
wet.
What do you mean, ‘We’?” she chided. “And, what’s a ‘Lander’?”
“It’s a long story,” he said, spitting out some of the sea, “and I’ll
tell you everything. But not here.” Milo looked around.
He noticed the Aquatoo sleeping on the dock bench and impulsively blurted,
“Hey! Is that what I think it is? Wow, boy, I haven’t seen one
of those since…”
But Milo didn’t get to finish his sentence. Luna had
wound up and pushed him off the end of the pier, back into the water.
The girl then folded her arms, shifted her weight to one side, and waited
for him to come back up to the surface. But he didn’t. She realized
he was playing a game on her. So she waited. And she waited.
At length, she said aloud, “Now, what?” There was a tapping on her
shoulder. She rolled her eyes and slowly turned around.
“Luna, I’m sorry.” said Milo. “I got detained.
It was out of my hands.” On his use of the word “detained”, the girl
suddenly remembered her recent brush with the Allidile, how it had forced
her to take refuge in the tree, how it had “detained” her there for quite
a while, as well. She sighed and turned to face him.
“This better be good.” she said, hands on hips, her head
tilted to one side in a gesture of defiance. “I’d sure like to hear
more about the ‘Lander’, and especially the ‘WE’ part of this mysterious
new misadventure of yours, but ONLY if you are willing to follow the code
of proper communication. You know the drill. If I have a question,
you answer it. If I have something to say, you let me say it, without
interrupting. Got it?”
A small victory, thought Milo. He exhaled. “Got
it” He smiled and moved closer to her, very slowly, waiting for an
indication of her acceptance. She resisted, motionless and pouting,
until it was clear that Milo had played the game so that it was her move.
Finally she sighed and put her arms around him, and the pair locked in an
embrace.
“Oh, Milo, what kind of trouble have you gotten yourself
into now?”
“Not here, lover. Let’s go to the shoal…”
“Alright,” she said, “but, uh… I found this Aquatoo, you
see, and uh… before we go, I really should find a safe place of confinement
for him.”
The nearby shoal was an expansive lagoon circled by a coral
reef, where the water was very shallow and warm. Out towards the middle,
Milo and Luna rested on the sandy bottom with just their heads above the
water. A soft tropical breeze stirred small ripples upon the otherwise
glass smooth surface of the water, and carried with it the exotic scent of
the fragrant paradise that was Archia. The lagoon lay stretched out
under the rusty twilight of the Derelict. By this time, the colossal
maze of patchwork architecture had come to fill most of the sky above, except
along the horizons, where the star studded black of night was still visible.
Luna laughed, “It’s no surprise that you and Paji would so
stupidly attempt something like that. But you actually pulled it off!
Boy, I really have to admire you. What an adventure.”
“Far from stupid, we’d been hatching this little plot for
about a year… carefully noting the schedules of the landers, studying the
procedures of the landing crews, and so forth. Of course, we had no
way of knowing WHAT to expect once we were aboard the mothership. We
knew we’d have to improvise, and just hope we weren’t caught. There
was a very close call, at one point.”
“And if you HAD been caught, I wonder?” said Luna, teasingly.
“Slow death by boring lecture, I would imagine.” She playfully splashed
water at him.
“Ok”, Milo said, “now it’s your turn. How was your
trip to the interior?”
“I had a close call or two of my own, thank you very much.
Other than that, the trip was well worth the effort. A small fortune.
Yellow and white nuggets. Gems of many colors. And a bounty of
spice roots and berries. But the real prize of the entire expedition;
six strange Flora Orbs, perfectly matured, of a type I’ve never seen before.
Quite remarkable. I intend to pay a visit to the mentor and see if
he can identify them. If he can’t, I’ve discovered a new species.”
Luna caught herself becoming more excited than she wished to be, so she paused
to put on a more casual demeanor, then added, “I also found an Aquatoo.”
She looked over at Milo, but he was strangely silent.
He was staring up at the looming Derelict, deep in thought, his gaze
intently fixed upon some particular detail in the superstructure. Without
looking away, he drew her closer to him. “At the next high sun,” he
began, “there is going to be a meeting at the Council Chamber. A Saurian
delegation has been assembled to address the Council to disclose some information
which seems to be of great significance. Significant, at least, to
the Green Ones.”
“Any idea what the story is?”
“I’m afraid not. I understand the language quite well,
but when they begin to speak of high technology, or matters of the cosmos,
they begin using words I’ve not yet been able to translate. However,
tomorrow, the Saurian delegation will address the Council and give testimony
to this matter in our own tongue. The meeting will, as usual, take
place behind closed doors, but I know a way inside that doesn’t involve doors.
Are you with me?”
“I don’t know.” she said. “I’m still upset that you
didn’t include me in your little trip to outer space.” She put on a
mock pout.
“Like you’d even care to participate in such a ‘stupid misadventure’.
I’ll tell you what. You want to take these ’orbs’ of yours to the mentor,
to be identified, right? That’s a three day journey by boat, as I’m
sure you know. Planning to go all by yourself, are you? You
know you’d make better time with me along. So, I’m willing to make
this offer: You come with me and hear what the Saurians have to say
to the Council tomorrow, and then afterwards, we’ll take my sail skiff and
strike a course east. What do you say to that?”
Luna thought for a few moments, then sighed. “Does
it really mean that much to you?”
“It does. And let me ask you, do I really mean that
much to YOU, Luna?”
She kissed him. “You do.”
Later, the low edge of the Derelict had begun to sink below
the western horizon, and twilight over the lagoon grew a little darker.
“This is my favorite time of the summer,” Luna said, “when the days are the
longest, and the nights are the brightest.” The next half hour was
spent idly swimming about, splashing and frolicking in the warm shallow water.
Eventually they tired, and crawled onto a sandbar. Soon they both
lay gazing skyward, each absorbed in thought.
Finally, it was Milo that spoke. “Dearest,” he said,
“if you knew that tonight were to be your last night of life, what would
you do with the evening?”
Luna then felt a sudden overpowering, but oddly comforting,
shiver run through her entire being. She’d never experienced anything
like this before. Milo could see she was having some kind of unusual
reaction. “Luna, what is it? Are you feeling alright?”
“Yes,” she replied, uncertainly, “I’m fine. I just
had a very odd feeling come over me when you asked that question.
I had the feeling you’d once asked me that question before… perhaps
many times… perhaps many thousands of times.” She turned to face him.
“But to answer, I feel that each and every night must be regarded AS the last.
For the will of the Father cannot be known, and it might be His will to take
me as I sleep. So I regard every night as my last, and every day as
my first. When the sun rises each new day, it is such a wonderous thing
to realize it has been reliably performing this simple miracle for so long,
since the very first time the Father said, ‘Let there be a day.’. Each
new sunrise is as the very first must have been.”
Milo was lost in her large green eyes. They were each
in a unique, somewhat mesmerized state of mind. “Fascinating perspective,”
said Milo, “but you didn’t really answer the specifics of the question, did
you?”
“You’re right.” she said. “What activity would I engage
in tonight, if tonight were literally my last?”
“That’s correct, teacher.”
Luna rolled over in the sand next to Milo, draped a sensous
leg over his, and kissed him passionately.
At length, Milo said, “Are you hedging the question?”
“No.” she replied. “I’m answering it.”