Ordinary World, Extraordinary People
Posted: Mon Jul 15, 2019 12:34 pm
GENERATION ONE © John H. Evans, April - July 2019
1. Lawless Highway
(A desert area outside Neosiak City, Phlentch)
The shiny little vbotriq spread a light coating of resin over itself and then slowly rolled in the dust, picking up a dull green-brown coating that helped with camouflage. It wasn’t concerned with the noises and vibrations all around. Its sole concern was its prey, the zengerloj behind the small pebbles. This was what Kneyo needed: a mini-drama to distract him from his predicament. He watched from above, breathing very quietly so as not to disturb the scene. The vbotriq advanced stealthily on the zengerloj, using the cover of the pebbles. The small quarry didn’t react and continued eating tiny plants from a crevice. A few stones and arrows flew overhead but they were irrelevant to this miniature scene. Kneyo wished that he could have a drink but he had to lie still, mainly to avoid attack but also to observe the hunting vbotriq. It crept forward, millimetre by millimetre. Kneyo willed it on. However, he could feel boredom growing. He wanted greater action, yet he was thwarted by circumstance. His mind wandered and he imagined that he was watching a grander, more exciting hunt. If the vbotriq and zengerloj were larger, they couldn’t exist on this world. (It would be physically impossible due to mechanical constraints on their bodies, such as breathing rates and muscle strength.) They’d have to be on another planet in an exotic part of the galaxy. There’d be six moons and fourteen comets in the sky. Animals would breathe argon dioxide and excrete glowing strands of gelatinous polymer. He’d need a star ship to reach that place and watch the hunt. Once he had a star ship, he’d be set for life! However, no one around here had the slightest clue how to build one.
“How the hell are we going to find them?” said a bandit as she wandered nearer, bow in hand. “This place is like a maze.” She cast her eye over the debris-strewn ground. There was nothing but rubbish, undergrowth and dirt.
“Either we find some or we get punished back home,” said another bandit. “You don’t want punishment. Keep searching.” Kneyo felt fairly safe in his hiding place, inside the hulk of an old, abandoned machine called a tape-net splicer. As the first bandit had said, this unofficial dumping ground was a maze. There were many pieces of junk, both large and small. The vegetation was fairly thick and also there were numerous, irregular rock formations scattered about. It was very difficult to walk through the area. The gang of female bandits cursed their luck as they slipped and tripped, combing the vicinity for hidden travellers to rob. Kneyo lay still and watched the smaller hunt. The vbotriq was very close now. Another few millimetres and it reached striking distance. At that point, something triggered in the zengerloj. The prey had a hidden trick: it opened flaps on its rear and instantly resembled a vbotriq. Also, it emitted a strong scent and pumped out some orange jelly from an opening under its abdomen. The hunter paused and reassessed the situation. The jelly seemed very inviting. Silently, it stepped out from behind a pebble and started sucking up the jelly. The zengerloj didn’t flee: it continued eating. When the vbotriq had finished its meal, it crept up to the zengerloj and gingerly attempted to mate. It had been fooled by the zengerloj’s display. The mating was successful, although no offspring would result. Upon completion, the vbotriq dismounted and stood still. The zengerloj took its chance and wandered off, escaping the jaws of the sated predator. When it reached a safe distance, it folded up its disguise and kept moving away from danger. Kneyo was amazed, having never seen a zengerloj use deception before.
“Damn, I just stood in a fresh turd!” complained a bandit as she stumbled between bushes, rocks and rusty appliances.
“I just missed one!” said another bandit. “There must be someone around here, curling them off.”
“I have to scrape my shoe,” said the first bandit. “Give me a minute.” Moments later, there was a call from a larger animal. The bandits were immediately interested, hoping to catch it for dinner. Kneyo watched from his hiding place in the shell of a large outdated tape-net splicer. The animal was very close to him. He could hear its footsteps. Why were they dragging? The next moment, a scruffy man shuffled past. He let out a low, coarse groan. He was the source of the animal noises. Why was he imitating a beast? Whatever the reason, he was going to attract the bandits. Kneyo covered himself with an empty trash bag and hoped that they wouldn’t see him. He didn’t want to lose his gear and perhaps his life to these nasty women.
“You, stop right there!” said a bow-wielding bandit. “What the hell are you doing? Where’s the ingivat?”
“Oh, I...er...I’m sure I don’t know!” said the scruffy man, surrendering to the archer. “Is there an ingivat around here? I didn’t see one.”
“He must’ve been calling like an ingivat,” said another bandit. “He’s trying to lure one to him. Maybe he wants to kill it and eat it. Drop your weapon, man.”
“I have no weapon, my lovely,” said the man with a placating smile. “I’m out here scavenging. There’s plenty to take, as you can see.”
“Hmm, so you’re a scavenger,” said a third bandit. “Where’s your bag, then? You should have found a few things by now.”
“I left it back there,” said the man unconvincingly, pointing behind him. “It’s easier to drop it off and pick it up later. Could I please go on with my little treasure hunt?” The third bandit examined him carefully. She noticed that his face and neck were flushed purple and yellow, which was a sign of arousal.
“So you want to go after your treasure?” she queried. “What’s wrong with the treasures in front of you?”
“Umm, th-they’re...armed and d-dangerous,” stammered the man. “I wouldn’t dare. I mainly stick to ingivats. They’re easier to control. I’ve used them for several years.”
“Well, now we’ll use you,” said the third bandit. “You’re coming with us, bestialist. Some of us need male attention. I hope you can rise to the occasion!” She gestured for him to go with them.
“That shouldn’t be a problem!” said the man, smiling and thankful for his good fortune. The three bandits led him away. He didn’t realise that he’d been enslaved.
“Oh God, I stood in another one!” shrieked the first bandit. “I hope these aren’t yours, dude!” She did her best to wipe off the dirt as they took the man to a cleaner location. This was Kneyo’s chance. He left the tape-net splicer carcass and scuttled across to where his friends had hidden. He found them lying under a heap of mouldy, discarded clothing behind a boulder and a clump of spiky bushes.
“They’ve gone!” he whispered urgently. “Let’s go before more come this way!” Ftanji and Sbeaz arose, glanced around and went with Kneyo. Clutching their light luggage, they jogged quietly away from the ambush area. After half a kilometre, they hid in the shade behind a derelict building. They ate a few snacks and drank their remaining water. Sbeaz pulled out a map and they planned an emergency route to Neosiak City.
“We were so close!” said Ftanji. “Another twenty minutes and we would’ve been there! Those awful women have taken our transport.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it!” said Sbeaz. “Things are getting really bad when bandits hijack a megavan so close to NC. No one stopped to help. No one fetched the cops. I’m sure a few people got abducted.”
“They definitely took that ingivat lover,” said Kneyo. “He thought he was going to get some from the bandits but I wouldn’t bet on it.”
“I say we head South West, through that wood,” said Sbeaz, pointing away from the main road. “We should be able to skirt the bandits and use back lanes to enter NC.”
“When we’re there, we can tell the cops about the bandits,” said Ftanji. “I really miss the good old days when we could just call it in.”
“Goddamn interference plague!” swore Kneyo. “It screwed our telecoms so bad but we still kept our gadgets, like nostalgic fools. When will it end?! Life was so much easier with signal!”
“Stop complaining,” said Ftanji. “Life’s easier now, in a way: it’s more basic and primal. It’s us against them, so it’s simple. Let’s go. First, we should head for that big rock.” The three friends loped off again, hoping to use cover and reach the city by an alternate route. They didn’t know why they were going there but it certainly felt very important.
2. Transcending Realities
(Another desert area outside Neosiak City)
“Why can I see so much?” asked Stohv as he stood in a desolate area of scrub. “Thousands of people are converging on Neosiak City and I can already see most of them. How can that be, with our confounded interference plague? It shouldn’t be possible! Don’t just sit there: answer me this riddle!” He stared at his meagre, lifeless audience as he sweated in the evening heat. Droplets tickled down his skin. The five watchers were totally impassive. All they did was rust, peel and accumulate dust. Stohv’s vision flickered like a stroboscope but they sat useless in the dirt. They were five machines that were slowly returning to the earth. Most impressive was the space capsule, with its tough exterior seared by furnace-like burns. Next to that was a boat, a car, an aeroplane without wings and a small tunnel boring platform. Together, they made an abysmal assembly of uncommunicative wrecks but they were better than a group of critical people. Wrecks wouldn’t try to lock him up but neither would they offer any opinions.
“Forget it, I’ll just have to get through this on my own, as usual,” said Stohv, sitting on the floor. “I can do it but I have to remember the basics like eating, drinking, breathing and so forth.” He closed his eyes and re-engaged with the ridiculous reality shifts occurring in his brain.
“When will you come home to bed?” asked his mother seventeen years ago.
“Erm...” he tried to reply.
“What time frame do we have on the Great Event this year in NC?” asked a city planner downtown.
“Three hours after nightfall,” said Stohv, answering his mother. “My head’s in such a spin. Time screeches by so fast these days. Sometimes it goes backwards or round and round.”
“When it happens, I’ll be able to tell my kids I wasn’t there but I still felt a tingling in my cleeb-arns!” said an enthusiastic old woman in the near future. He could tell because there was a marked calendar on the wall behind her.
“I shouldn’t be seeing this,” thought Stohv. “I mean the near future, not her cleeb-arns. They’re well kept, though.” He was tired of this nonsense. He lay on the floor and tried to blot it out but he couldn’t do so completely. Unexplained visions continued pouring through his mind. There was only so much he could take. He lay back on the dusty soil and quickly dozed off.
“I don’t like this, Gyhuly,” said Zmekolevv as the group of raiders approached Stohv. “I’m getting a strange vibe from that man and this place too.”
“You’re always getting stupid vibes!” said the leader Gyhuly. “Let’s collect scrap once in a while, for God’s sake!”
“He’s right, Gyhuly,” said Kohnphid. “I haven’t felt right about this area for the last hour. We should try somewhere else.”
“It won’t matter if we take some good pieces and then vamoose,” said Thiglak. “These hunks of junk are worn out and obsolete. No one will object.”
“What if he wakes up?” asked Kohnphid.
“It’s four against one,” said Gyhuly. “What can he do?!” The raiders went closer and examined the vehicles. Quickly, they identified components that could be detached and removed. They pulled tools from their pockets and began to unscrew the choice pieces. Gyhuly was about to lift off a curved section of aeroplane frame when the scene changed abruptly. He found himself throttling the unconscious man, who was now awake.
“It doesn’t matter what you do,” rasped the man as his air was choked off. “Things will...work out...the same.” Gyhuly was shocked at his sudden transposition. He stopped strangling the man and withdrew his hands. He pulled himself back to an upright kneeling position.
“Zmekolevv, you were right!” he called out. “We should take what we have and get out of here.” He got off the man and stood up. Looking around, he saw Zmekolevv standing nearby with a large piece of aluminium in his arms. At the same time, he saw Zmekolevv lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood. Ten metres away, Kohnphid was walking away with a chunk of steel. She was also visible in the opposite direction, struggling on the floor with an unseen adversary. Thiglak appeared twice too, the first time standing with a painted metal panel and the second time backing away from a bizarre metal monster.
“Do you see it?” asked the man as he sat up and rubbed his neck. “Are you experiencing my fractured view of the world? It’s horrible, isn’t it?! I wish that my nightmare would end. You should get out of here, my friend. Take your crew with you. I’m bad news to be around. I might have to top myself soon, to end the pain. At least I have plenty of metal and glass to cut my wrists.” He put his head in his hands and cried softly. Meanwhile, the metal monster had killed the second version of Thiglak and now turned toward Gyhuly. He saw it, screamed in terror and ran for his life. The first versions of Zmekolevv, Kohnphid and Thiglak dropped their booty and followed him as fast as they could. They all sprinted across country. Just then, people started appearing from nowhere. There were hundreds or possibly thousands of them. The four raiders had to dodge several before stopping. It wasn’t a good idea to sprint when so many people were popping out of thin air.
“Don’t...go over there!” wheezed Gyhuly, trying to warn people. “Monster, killers: too dangerous!”
“We’ll be fine; don’t worry about it!” said a woman walking by. “The world’s changing for the better. You’ll see, when you’re ready.” She kept walking and gradually faded away, as did the others.
“They’re disappearing again,” said Thiglak. “Let’s keep moving.”
“You can go wherever you want,” said a voice next to Gyhuly. “We’ll be seeing each other again before too long. Look, I already have a version of you, Gyhuly!” The original Gyhuly turned and came face to face with himself, except that his doppelganger had some metal components attached to his body.
“My name’s Stohv, by the way,” said Stohv, who was standing next to Gyhuly’s double. “Slowly, things are coming into focus. I can control this one now. This seems to be part of my destiny. I use machines to do all kinds of things. I don’t know how it works but it’s powerful and effective!” He used his influence to make the second Gyhuly smile and wave.
“We’re sorry, man!” said the original Gyhuly, backing away. “We won’t bother you anymore!” He turned and ran once again, followed by his three friends.
“That’s fine,” said Stohv. “The way I see it, I’m going to be bothering you more than vice versa.” He smiled but then he had further visions of the past and future. Some of them were tragic. Once more, he was plunged into gloom and despondency. Alternate realities continued to flutter all around him.
3. Cherished Memories
(Early life at home in the western suburbs of Neosiak City)
One day, back in Stohv’s boyhood, he was young and warm and secure and cosy. His life was fixed and set fair. He built up his toy blocks, gear wheels, shafts, bands and tyres. He could make many vehicles, conventional or eccentric. His father Dahuva watched, very pleased. Presently, Stohv brought him his latest creation. It was called ‘Swamp Crawler Four’ and it had the biggest tyres available. Stohv didn’t realise that the vehicle’s configuration was flawed. Such large tyres required a stronger engine block to drive them. That wasn’t a problem. Stohv would learn the correct methods soon enough. Dahuva hugged his son so eagerly, he thought that he’d burst. Stohv’s eyes widened as he felt a torrent of irresistible love energy engulf him. It seemed utterly endless. It opened his mind and heart to the ebb and flow of the infinite cosmos. He lost track of time. In fact, the hug only lasted half a minute but it seemed to go on and on, as much as he cared to imagine. After that unexpected window into the omni-realms, Dahuva pulled back but still clasped Stohv’s shoulders in his hands.
“My most precious boy, I want you to have the best, most fulfilling life possible,” he said. “Would you promise me that you’ll do your best to make the most of your life? The sky’s the limit! No, in fact you should experience a thousand skies! A million! A billion!”
“A trillion! A zillion!” continued young Stohv. “A trillion zillion! What’s bigger than that?”
“A googol!” said Dahuva. “A googolplex! You should stop after a googolplex and ninety two. That’s enough for a Jubusday. Have your supper and then go back to it the next day!”
“Dad, you’re being ridiculous!” said Stohv. “I might be able to see a googolplex and ninety skies in one Jubusday but a googolplex and ninety two is too many. I’d have to be God or something!” Dahuva looked into the distance for a moment, thinking profound thoughts.
“You’re right,” he said, looking back into Stohv’s eyes. “You’d need divine power to go the distance. We’ll have to work on that. If we keep living excellently, we’ll find a way. I’m sure your mother will help us.”
“Crazy Daddy!” said Stohv. “I can’t be God. Anyway, before all that sky hopping, I’ll need more blocks. When can we go and buy some? I want to build a giant, über, mega truck with seventeen horns and an animal launcher.”
“Well, I’m not sure,” said Dahuva. “It all depends...” As he spoke, Stohv reached around into his father’s back pocket. There was a mysterious crackle of electricity and Stohv pulled a wad of cash from the pocket.
“Hey, you can’t use that!” complained Dahuva. “That’s my gloating money, for showing off around town. How will I gloat without it?” Stohv tutted and shook his head as he peeled off some bills.
“You’ll have to pad out your wad with blank paper,” said Stohv. “I need blocks and you can’t refuse me. You love me too much.”
“True and you’ll need the practice,” said Dahuva. “You don’t yet know all the things I have planned for you. It’s going to be the wildest time that you could possibly imagine!” Stohv gulped: he could tell that his father really meant it.
“Don’t sweat,” said Dahuva. “You have all the time in the world: a googolplex worlds, in fact. You’ll be fine! Now, I’ll show you how to build the coolest machines. Give me your spare blocks.”
“You might be the greatest Dad but you’re not as cool as me,” said Stohv. “Give it up, old man!” Dahuva laughed and began demonstrating his amazing construction skills.
In the present, the memory of that day still burned bright in Stohv’s memory. His father was diminished now, weaker and more fragile. However, Stohv knew that the power was only sleeping within him. The right trigger could bring it back, quicker than lightning. He didn’t want to disturb him, though. Physically, old Dad wasn’t up to much anymore. Essentially, Stohv was alone now but he coped well like that.
4. Lawlessness Goes Both Ways
(A third desert area outside Neosiak City)
Every few seconds, the scene changed. The visions all seemed clear and authentic. Sometimes, animals appeared. Most of them were familiar but a few were unknown prehistoric types, with arrangements of horns, tentacles and mouth-trunks never seen before by modern folk. One or two seemed overloaded with such adornments, which could be construed as either horrific or comic. At least she didn’t have to look at them too long. For the most part, she saw landscapes. Parades of ordinary views were interspersed with flashes of brilliant beauty. Now and then, primitive people appeared at random. Mainly, they were hunting and gathering in the distance. At least three were kneeling right in front of her, apparently in prayer. They looked thin and care-worn. As time went on, a smattering of modern people were revealed. The last one was definitely in the future. She could tell because the woman was levitating a few metres above the ground. Unlike anyone else, this woman seemed aware of the viewer and waved at her briefly. She hardly smiled and her gaze was disturbing.
“Please, is anybody there?!” asked Riztanzi. “Someone’s drugged me. I can’t see reality right now.”
“That’s absurd,” said her friend Duronkest. “We’ve been watching for hours. No one’s drugged you.”
“It could be a micro-dart or a slow-acting drug,” suggested Olpur, another friend. “I’ve been reading about them in my magazines.”
“Dah! No one would bother using those on us!” snorted third friend Viboniu. “We’re low-level bandits. No one’s tracking us, as long as we’re mobile and agile. Stay where you are for now, Riztanzi. The visions should stop soon. Remember, the same thing happened to Zirenquom a few days ago.”
“I’m scared, Vib!” said Riztanzi. “There are people watching me in my visions. They see me and try to talk to me. I can’t understand their languages. Either they’re too old-fashioned or they’re foreigners. Five of them have definitely been Hecinax.”
“Have patience, Riz,” said Duronkest. “We’re living in strange times. We knew there’d be some risks when we agreed to rob the pilgrims-without-a-cause.”
“I didn’t count on being shown a massive picture show from the last million years!” said Riztanzi. “This is much worse than drugs. Everything’s in high-definition and completely out of my control. My brain’s been overrun! I should get out of here. I’m totally out of my depth. Could someone please drive me home? I can’t stand this for much longer!” There was obvious panic in her tone of voice. She rose and groped around for the exit. Olpur stepped forward and pushed her back into her seat.
“Stay there,” she warned. “It’s not safe to move you around while your perceptions are so compromised. We’re going to make sure you get through this alive and well.”
“Oh God, there are more future people!” said Riztanzi, physically recoiling from something only she could see. “They’re sticking something into me! They’re doing some kind of measurement! Damn, it’s making me feel dizzy!”
“That’s new,” said Viboniu. “The vision people are actively probing Riz. Maybe we should leave this area after all. I don’t want to lose her for the sake of some plunder. Hang in there, Riz.”
“They’ve gone now but here comes someone else,” said Riztanzi. “He’s only watching me but the feeling is...indescribable. I’ll try but...aaahhh!...what the hell?...a thousand years compressed into a moment...more and more years...he’s making me feel time...deep time...geological...no, it’s not normal!...can’t adapt...can’t breathe...I’m a forest and a valley and the sky...”
“You have to breathe, to get through this!” warned Viboniu. “Come on, in and out, in and out, work that diaphragm!” Riztanzi managed to do it, although she was being bombarded with alien sensations.
“Make him stop!” she cried in desperation. “Please stop! It’s impossible; I can’t do it!” She clung to her chair and swung her body rapidly back and forth, as if trying to shake away the experience. Her friends made sure that she didn’t fall on the floor. They were almost as scared as her. Luckily, Riztanzi’s begging brought the experience to an end. The man in her final vision walked away. The scene faded out. Reality returned.
“Thank God, I can see again!” said Riztanzi, standing up carefully and smiling. “Can I at least open the door for some fresh air?” Her friends allowed her to go a few metres outside the derelict shack that was their temporary home. It was a huge relief to regain her normal senses. The shock of experiencing deep time and being fully in tune with nature still resonated through her mind. [Inhale...exhale...repeat...focus...maintain rhythm...bathe lungs in precious air.] Her shock abated gradually. As it did so, she heard approaching footsteps. Clothes rustled, grunts and coughs became distinct, murmuring voices grew: a crowd was coming. They were on the other side of the shack and closing steadily.
“We’ve got company!” said Riztanzi, stepping into the doorway to make sure her warning was heard.
“Damn right!” said a man on her right. “You’re in our way and we’re going to flatten you!” It was too late to escape. The crowd had already reached her. The man pushed her to the ground, just outside the shack. Other people came forward with heavy pieces of debris. Riztanzi was covered with a large sheet of fabric that someone flung onto her. Before she could crawl free, various bricks, blocks and beams were dumped on the sheet. She was pinned down and mostly buried. Simultaneously, the crowd pressed forward together and made the shack collapse. Viboniu, Olpur and Duronkest were trapped underneath as further waste was piled on them.
“Trash is gathered and burnt!” announced a man. “Old wrecks are consumed to make way for shiny new things.” There were many approving words spoken and then Riztanzi heard the crowd moving on as flammable garbage was ignited. The area was covered with it. The flames began to crackle and the smell of smoke became apparent. The four bandits had been ambushed in their own hideout. They knew that their lives were in immediate peril. They strove to push away the debris, piece by piece. However, they’d all received minor injuries and slight concussions. Also, they weren’t strong enough for a quick escape. The fire could easily kill them before they got loose. They began to panic and wail. Maybe some of their friends would hear and come to help. That wasn’t very likely because everyone else was out robbing, stealing and scavenging. They wouldn’t be back until evening. As she vainly attempted to push a concrete post off her legs, Riztanzi thought about the crowd. She’d only seen them for a few moments. Most of them had been wearing backpacks, as if they’d hiked across country to be here. She believed that they were all ‘pilgrims’ like the ones she’d been robbing recently. It was very worrying that their numbers had increased so much and that they’d become more aggressive. Also, it was still a mystery why they were coming to the city. Was it some new ‘insanity plague’, as the print media had speculated? Grimly, Riztanzi continued straining her muscles against the weights laid upon her. She was starting to realise that her position was hopeless without assistance. Duronkest, Olpur and Viboniu were having no luck getting free as paper and cloth blazed around them. Wood fragments were catching light. Thicker sticks and boards were smouldering. Logs, frames and support beams would follow soon. What options were left? The metaphysical...
“You look like you could use a second chance.”
Drawn into drizzle, mingling with the mizzle.
“They don’t think you’re worth it but they’re not fully enlightened.”
Dampening the desert, dousing the danger.
“I can’t ignore four damsels in distress. You’re too useful.”
Snuffing the sparks, inhibiting the inferno.
“Heave ho, structural elements. Lift and throw, pick and toss.”
Wafting out the smoke, twirling the steam.
“Keeping you alive makes me feel likewise!”
Atoms reposition, wounds repair.
“You understand that you’re not safe here, living like this.”
A new spirit has arisen from the elements, from the æther.
“It’d be much better if you joined my movement.”
He’s a man right now but he’s not truly gendered.
“I’m saving your lives. You owe me something.”
He’s not making typical male demands.
“You’re criminals but you understand blood bargains.”
It’s seduction but on a much deeper level.
“If we unite, we’ll be infinitely stronger.”
Falling into nature.
“I bet you wish you’d tidied up now!”
Those serene moments from fond memory, rising to engulf.
“Control your environment, control your destiny.”
Never saw this coming.
“Messy and selfish, you hoes need schooling.”
Lord, is this Your Will?
“What a tangle! Let’s pull off this rebel rag.”
The blinds come off. He’s right there. As I feared. As I hoped.
“Time to stand up and face the world again!”
He leans forward, takes my hand. His grip is warm, like stone in the spring sunshine. He’s in no hurry, breezing along on a gentle day. I rise with little effort. My clothing is scuffed and dirty but my body has healed miraculously. He holds me close for a moment. Our breath mixes and recirculates. His air enters me. It’s more than air. It awakens me to a different world of extraordinary possibilities. I sense further, faster, for longer.
“My friends!” said Riztanzi, returning to something like normal consciousness. “The fire’s going out but they’re still caught under the shack.” She and the stranger worked methodically to free the three other bandits. Luckily, there were no ‘pilgrims’ around. They’d all gone on to Neosiak City, searching for God knew what. Riztanzi could hardly believe that a supernatural man had abruptly entered her life. Was it connected to the ‘pilgrimage’ enigma? That was very possible but the presence of the man soothed her fears. He radiated calm acceptance like the sun radiated power. When Duronkest, Viboniu and Olpur were released, they sat up and stared at the man. They were entranced by his aura.
“Such an attentive audience,” said the man. “Will you join me?” The three women were confused. How could they not join him when they were under his spell? Did he want some sort of validation? Olpur crawled over on all fours, knelt before him and touched the top of his trousers. Perhaps he needed release.
“Should I...?” she enquired.
“There’s no need,” said the man. “My aims are, shall we say, more spiritual. I’m sure you knew that as soon as I arrived.”
“So what should we do, if anything?” asked Olpur.
“We’ll go to the city centre and join the pilgrims,” said the man. “We’re going to form a new kind of society, vastly superior to what you have now.”
“Won’t they try to kill us again?” queried Duronkest.
“Not with me and my people around,” said the man. “We can tame the mortals.”
“I’m sure you can,” said Viboniu, her eyes opening to his full potential. “You certainly tamed us. What’s your name, by the way?”
“Call me Uthaim,” said Uthaim. “It’s not my original name but it’s contemporary and appropriate.”
“This region is called Uthaim,” said Duronkest. “You’re connected to it somehow, right?”
“I am this region,” said Uthaim. “I foster life here. However, things are changing. I may have to leave my ancient home soon. Many of us will do likewise.”
“The new society,” said Olpur, standing up. “It’s going to be epic, that’s for sure!”
“I’m glad that we understand each other,” said Uthaim. “I know how anxious you mortals can be. I sense it every day. I always try to calm you down.” He put his arms around Olpur and Riztanzi’s shoulders and walked with them toward NC. Duronkest and Viboniu followed closely behind. They sensed that they wouldn’t need their meagre belongings, so they left them behind. As they walked, the four women revelled in Uthaim’s sensational aura. It was as if they were showering under cool waterfalls, drying on slabs of warm rocks and luxuriating in beds of soft moss. After the rigours and perils of bandit life, this was pure bliss.
5. Museum Psychometry
(Neosiak City Centre)
“He’s coming!” said the scruffy man as he clutched Stohv’s shoulders. “The Great One will unify us, mark my words!”
“I’m sure she will!” said Stohv, trying to break free in a polite manner. “We don’t know where or when, though. If you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment with friends.” Reluctantly, the scruffy man let him go. Stohv had spoken as if he had foreknowledge. The scruffy man was re-evaluating his preconceptions. Perhaps he should be looking out for a woman as well as a man? Stohv went a few steps further.
“Are you ready, brother?” asked a thin faced woman ten metres further on. “The Great One is nearly upon us.”
“Alert me when it comes!” said Stohv, side-stepping with a smile. The earnestness of the pilgrims amused him. He continued dodging between them as he headed for the junction of Shiz and Unyon. The numbers were building up nicely, as he’d anticipated. He used his special influence to dissuade them from interacting with him. At the street corner, he stood against a block wall and watched as people walked by in all directions. His friends hadn’t arrived yet, which was unusual. There was no way of checking on their whereabouts without someone going to search for them. He had to wait and see who would show up. If no one came in an hour, he’d leave and do something else. He’d have to meet his friends another time, in that case. Five minutes later, he noticed a very old man approaching in a powered wheelchair. He was bundled up in a thick coat and hat. The crowds parted to let him through. It was only when he reached Stohv that his identity became apparent.
“Dad, what are you doing out here?” asked Stohv. “You’ll get cold and sick. You might even lose your way and have to be brought home by police!”
“Nonsense!” said Dahuva in his old, quavering voice. “I can come out on little trips like this, no problem.”
“Where are my friends?” asked Stohv, irritated. “We were going to eat, drink and be merry.”
“They’re at home, blissfully unaware of this meeting,” replied Dahuva. “I wanted to show you something in the Fusty-Dusty History Museum. It’s important.”
“I think that I’ve got everything in hand, Dad,” said Stohv, crouching down in front of Dahuva. “The whole transition process is going very well. Sometimes I have swimming-head syndrome but it passes. What more is there to learn?”
“There’s always another perspective,” said Dahuva. “Even now things can surprise you.”
“Alright, let’s get this over with,” said Stohv, commanding Dahuva’s wheelchair to grow mechanical legs. “Show me this thing in the ‘national attic’ and then your odd little energy spurt will have achieved its purpose.” Dahuva smiled as the new legs carried him across the street and up the museum steps. Stohv followed close behind. Already, he was receiving quiet messages from the thousands of artefacts in the ancient collections.
“It’s OK, we don’t have to pay,” said Dahuva to the attendant in the ticket office. “I’m retired and my son isn’t a regular person anymore. He’s rapidly developing into a super-being.” Dahuva’s powers allayed all suspicion and the attendant waved them through. Stohv found himself overwhelmed by psychometric impressions emanating from the exhibits and also the other items in the store rooms above and below. He had to sit on a bench as he struggled to focus. Dahuva was amplifying the information stream, partly to help his son and partly to test him. Stohv wrestled with over a hundred thousand stories, some of which were millions or even billions of years long. To complicate things further, the rocks below the foundations and the structure of the museum itself added their own inputs.
“Coping?” asked Dahuva.
“478b-Three-million-four-hundred-thousand-seven-hundred-and-ninety-eight-years-under-a-layer-of-rough-gneiss-followed-by-six-thousand-five-hundred-and-twenty-nine-years-under-turf-and-forest-then-dug-up-and-shaped-into-sixty-three-oblong-blocks,” replied Stohv, his body under strain due to the mental exertion. “6129h-Carried-for-nineteen-years-four-months-by-a-woman-called-Jaimalet-which-translates-as-droopy-lips-It-did-her-no-good-in-the-end-because-she-died-of-a-multistep-fungus-plague-that-was-transmitted-along-the-food-chain...”
“Stop quoting things and take the gist,” advised Dahuva. “I want you to look for patterns.” Stohv groaned loudly in protest and lay down full length on the bench. Surely this would give him a headache! Laboriously, he tried to boost his brain power with cybernetic implants.
“Twenty nine point one percent of the fossils are misclassified,” said Stohv. “The experts should have a rethink about the taxonomy. Three genera are unrecognised.”
“Keep looking!” said Dahuva.
“Oh come on, I just reclassified the whole collection!” said Stohv peevishly. “Surely that has to mean something!”
“I’m sure it does to someone,” said Dahuva. “It’s not my point, though. Collate your findings and look again.”
“Can’t you just tell me the answer?” complained Stohv.
“I won’t always be available,” said Dahuva. “My days are numbered. You have to work things out for yourself. This is training. Actually, it’s a simple exercise compared to what’s coming.” Stohv said nothing more for a while. He was determined to search until he’d found his father’s bugbear. It probably wasn’t in the rocks and fossils, so he concentrated on the more recent pieces: those related to people in some way. He picked up a simple ceramic saucer from the fuff-clig era, when people were fighting with air cannons that made a ‘fuff-clig’ noise upon loading. The saucer had been touched by several hundred people over the years but had survived unbroken. Some of those people had been keen fighters while others hadn’t. After a while, he noticed that none of those people had actually wanted to kill anyone, even the most enthusiastic battlers.
Putting down the saucer, Stohv walked over to other displays. He was drawn to the dagger of a warrior who’d died three thousand years ago. The dagger and other associated metal pieces were very rusty. They’d only survived because they’d been forged with superior alloys and then kept in dry conditions. He touched the dagger lightly and started to experience its uses. Of course, it had cut many fibres and fabrics. It’d also sliced and stabbed hundreds of meat chunks. At times of danger, it’d been used dozens of times to threaten people. The worst thing was that it’d penetrated the living flesh of thirty four people. Most of them had died subsequently, either through blood loss or infection. Stohv could detect the warrior’s emotions during each of these attacks. He’d seen them all as necessary in some way. Twelve had been clearly self-defence. Five had been to silence witnesses. Six had been to execute prisoners, in order to punish others. Four had been to overcome resistance during raids. Three had been to send a grisly message to others. The final four had been the mercy killings of his wife and two children, followed by his suicide as enemies closed in.
This warrior had been happy in his youth but, when the proper fighting had started, he’d been increasingly miserable. Killing animals had been hard yet killing people had proved to be a major drain on his psyche. He’d been glad to end it all at the age of thirty two. Stohv was starting to see a pattern and make connections. This was why conflicts seemed to fizzle out fairly quickly or degenerate into petty feuds and slanging matches. Killers often boasted of their thirst for blood and lack of remorse but they didn’t really want to kill. Around the corner, Stohv found some sheets of dried skin that had been sewn together three centuries ago. The skin had belonged to four people. Now, it was flaky and very fragile. It couldn’t be touched or else it would fall apart. Stohv peered at it through the glass. Experts agreed that the skins had been sewn together while the four people were still alive. The stitching was even and precise, implying that the people had remained still during the sewing, despite the pain. Also, they hadn’t moved or struggled much after the sewing. They hadn’t tried to get free. They’d stayed like this until they died shortly afterwards. Stohv could sense that these four people had tried to set an example for others. They’d submitted to being stitched together to symbolise their belief that everyone should unite. Their method was extreme and regarded as going too far. They hadn’t been commemorated, so their names were unknown. However, their dedication was very strong. They’d taken poison and left the world together in great joy.
“I understand,” said Stohv. “The people of the world want unification. Old instincts are obsolete. Killing and mistreatment must end. The time is almost upon us.”
“This world is a special one because I made it so,” said Dahuva. “Anyway, my little errand is complete. Now, we should go home for snykk and frubol.” Stohv followed obediently, failing to question why his father wanted food and drink when he had enough mystic power to reshape global society. Dahuva had always overawed him but in a completely benevolent way.
1. Lawless Highway
(A desert area outside Neosiak City, Phlentch)
The shiny little vbotriq spread a light coating of resin over itself and then slowly rolled in the dust, picking up a dull green-brown coating that helped with camouflage. It wasn’t concerned with the noises and vibrations all around. Its sole concern was its prey, the zengerloj behind the small pebbles. This was what Kneyo needed: a mini-drama to distract him from his predicament. He watched from above, breathing very quietly so as not to disturb the scene. The vbotriq advanced stealthily on the zengerloj, using the cover of the pebbles. The small quarry didn’t react and continued eating tiny plants from a crevice. A few stones and arrows flew overhead but they were irrelevant to this miniature scene. Kneyo wished that he could have a drink but he had to lie still, mainly to avoid attack but also to observe the hunting vbotriq. It crept forward, millimetre by millimetre. Kneyo willed it on. However, he could feel boredom growing. He wanted greater action, yet he was thwarted by circumstance. His mind wandered and he imagined that he was watching a grander, more exciting hunt. If the vbotriq and zengerloj were larger, they couldn’t exist on this world. (It would be physically impossible due to mechanical constraints on their bodies, such as breathing rates and muscle strength.) They’d have to be on another planet in an exotic part of the galaxy. There’d be six moons and fourteen comets in the sky. Animals would breathe argon dioxide and excrete glowing strands of gelatinous polymer. He’d need a star ship to reach that place and watch the hunt. Once he had a star ship, he’d be set for life! However, no one around here had the slightest clue how to build one.
“How the hell are we going to find them?” said a bandit as she wandered nearer, bow in hand. “This place is like a maze.” She cast her eye over the debris-strewn ground. There was nothing but rubbish, undergrowth and dirt.
“Either we find some or we get punished back home,” said another bandit. “You don’t want punishment. Keep searching.” Kneyo felt fairly safe in his hiding place, inside the hulk of an old, abandoned machine called a tape-net splicer. As the first bandit had said, this unofficial dumping ground was a maze. There were many pieces of junk, both large and small. The vegetation was fairly thick and also there were numerous, irregular rock formations scattered about. It was very difficult to walk through the area. The gang of female bandits cursed their luck as they slipped and tripped, combing the vicinity for hidden travellers to rob. Kneyo lay still and watched the smaller hunt. The vbotriq was very close now. Another few millimetres and it reached striking distance. At that point, something triggered in the zengerloj. The prey had a hidden trick: it opened flaps on its rear and instantly resembled a vbotriq. Also, it emitted a strong scent and pumped out some orange jelly from an opening under its abdomen. The hunter paused and reassessed the situation. The jelly seemed very inviting. Silently, it stepped out from behind a pebble and started sucking up the jelly. The zengerloj didn’t flee: it continued eating. When the vbotriq had finished its meal, it crept up to the zengerloj and gingerly attempted to mate. It had been fooled by the zengerloj’s display. The mating was successful, although no offspring would result. Upon completion, the vbotriq dismounted and stood still. The zengerloj took its chance and wandered off, escaping the jaws of the sated predator. When it reached a safe distance, it folded up its disguise and kept moving away from danger. Kneyo was amazed, having never seen a zengerloj use deception before.
“Damn, I just stood in a fresh turd!” complained a bandit as she stumbled between bushes, rocks and rusty appliances.
“I just missed one!” said another bandit. “There must be someone around here, curling them off.”
“I have to scrape my shoe,” said the first bandit. “Give me a minute.” Moments later, there was a call from a larger animal. The bandits were immediately interested, hoping to catch it for dinner. Kneyo watched from his hiding place in the shell of a large outdated tape-net splicer. The animal was very close to him. He could hear its footsteps. Why were they dragging? The next moment, a scruffy man shuffled past. He let out a low, coarse groan. He was the source of the animal noises. Why was he imitating a beast? Whatever the reason, he was going to attract the bandits. Kneyo covered himself with an empty trash bag and hoped that they wouldn’t see him. He didn’t want to lose his gear and perhaps his life to these nasty women.
“You, stop right there!” said a bow-wielding bandit. “What the hell are you doing? Where’s the ingivat?”
“Oh, I...er...I’m sure I don’t know!” said the scruffy man, surrendering to the archer. “Is there an ingivat around here? I didn’t see one.”
“He must’ve been calling like an ingivat,” said another bandit. “He’s trying to lure one to him. Maybe he wants to kill it and eat it. Drop your weapon, man.”
“I have no weapon, my lovely,” said the man with a placating smile. “I’m out here scavenging. There’s plenty to take, as you can see.”
“Hmm, so you’re a scavenger,” said a third bandit. “Where’s your bag, then? You should have found a few things by now.”
“I left it back there,” said the man unconvincingly, pointing behind him. “It’s easier to drop it off and pick it up later. Could I please go on with my little treasure hunt?” The third bandit examined him carefully. She noticed that his face and neck were flushed purple and yellow, which was a sign of arousal.
“So you want to go after your treasure?” she queried. “What’s wrong with the treasures in front of you?”
“Umm, th-they’re...armed and d-dangerous,” stammered the man. “I wouldn’t dare. I mainly stick to ingivats. They’re easier to control. I’ve used them for several years.”
“Well, now we’ll use you,” said the third bandit. “You’re coming with us, bestialist. Some of us need male attention. I hope you can rise to the occasion!” She gestured for him to go with them.
“That shouldn’t be a problem!” said the man, smiling and thankful for his good fortune. The three bandits led him away. He didn’t realise that he’d been enslaved.
“Oh God, I stood in another one!” shrieked the first bandit. “I hope these aren’t yours, dude!” She did her best to wipe off the dirt as they took the man to a cleaner location. This was Kneyo’s chance. He left the tape-net splicer carcass and scuttled across to where his friends had hidden. He found them lying under a heap of mouldy, discarded clothing behind a boulder and a clump of spiky bushes.
“They’ve gone!” he whispered urgently. “Let’s go before more come this way!” Ftanji and Sbeaz arose, glanced around and went with Kneyo. Clutching their light luggage, they jogged quietly away from the ambush area. After half a kilometre, they hid in the shade behind a derelict building. They ate a few snacks and drank their remaining water. Sbeaz pulled out a map and they planned an emergency route to Neosiak City.
“We were so close!” said Ftanji. “Another twenty minutes and we would’ve been there! Those awful women have taken our transport.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it!” said Sbeaz. “Things are getting really bad when bandits hijack a megavan so close to NC. No one stopped to help. No one fetched the cops. I’m sure a few people got abducted.”
“They definitely took that ingivat lover,” said Kneyo. “He thought he was going to get some from the bandits but I wouldn’t bet on it.”
“I say we head South West, through that wood,” said Sbeaz, pointing away from the main road. “We should be able to skirt the bandits and use back lanes to enter NC.”
“When we’re there, we can tell the cops about the bandits,” said Ftanji. “I really miss the good old days when we could just call it in.”
“Goddamn interference plague!” swore Kneyo. “It screwed our telecoms so bad but we still kept our gadgets, like nostalgic fools. When will it end?! Life was so much easier with signal!”
“Stop complaining,” said Ftanji. “Life’s easier now, in a way: it’s more basic and primal. It’s us against them, so it’s simple. Let’s go. First, we should head for that big rock.” The three friends loped off again, hoping to use cover and reach the city by an alternate route. They didn’t know why they were going there but it certainly felt very important.
2. Transcending Realities
(Another desert area outside Neosiak City)
“Why can I see so much?” asked Stohv as he stood in a desolate area of scrub. “Thousands of people are converging on Neosiak City and I can already see most of them. How can that be, with our confounded interference plague? It shouldn’t be possible! Don’t just sit there: answer me this riddle!” He stared at his meagre, lifeless audience as he sweated in the evening heat. Droplets tickled down his skin. The five watchers were totally impassive. All they did was rust, peel and accumulate dust. Stohv’s vision flickered like a stroboscope but they sat useless in the dirt. They were five machines that were slowly returning to the earth. Most impressive was the space capsule, with its tough exterior seared by furnace-like burns. Next to that was a boat, a car, an aeroplane without wings and a small tunnel boring platform. Together, they made an abysmal assembly of uncommunicative wrecks but they were better than a group of critical people. Wrecks wouldn’t try to lock him up but neither would they offer any opinions.
“Forget it, I’ll just have to get through this on my own, as usual,” said Stohv, sitting on the floor. “I can do it but I have to remember the basics like eating, drinking, breathing and so forth.” He closed his eyes and re-engaged with the ridiculous reality shifts occurring in his brain.
“When will you come home to bed?” asked his mother seventeen years ago.
“Erm...” he tried to reply.
“What time frame do we have on the Great Event this year in NC?” asked a city planner downtown.
“Three hours after nightfall,” said Stohv, answering his mother. “My head’s in such a spin. Time screeches by so fast these days. Sometimes it goes backwards or round and round.”
“When it happens, I’ll be able to tell my kids I wasn’t there but I still felt a tingling in my cleeb-arns!” said an enthusiastic old woman in the near future. He could tell because there was a marked calendar on the wall behind her.
“I shouldn’t be seeing this,” thought Stohv. “I mean the near future, not her cleeb-arns. They’re well kept, though.” He was tired of this nonsense. He lay on the floor and tried to blot it out but he couldn’t do so completely. Unexplained visions continued pouring through his mind. There was only so much he could take. He lay back on the dusty soil and quickly dozed off.
“I don’t like this, Gyhuly,” said Zmekolevv as the group of raiders approached Stohv. “I’m getting a strange vibe from that man and this place too.”
“You’re always getting stupid vibes!” said the leader Gyhuly. “Let’s collect scrap once in a while, for God’s sake!”
“He’s right, Gyhuly,” said Kohnphid. “I haven’t felt right about this area for the last hour. We should try somewhere else.”
“It won’t matter if we take some good pieces and then vamoose,” said Thiglak. “These hunks of junk are worn out and obsolete. No one will object.”
“What if he wakes up?” asked Kohnphid.
“It’s four against one,” said Gyhuly. “What can he do?!” The raiders went closer and examined the vehicles. Quickly, they identified components that could be detached and removed. They pulled tools from their pockets and began to unscrew the choice pieces. Gyhuly was about to lift off a curved section of aeroplane frame when the scene changed abruptly. He found himself throttling the unconscious man, who was now awake.
“It doesn’t matter what you do,” rasped the man as his air was choked off. “Things will...work out...the same.” Gyhuly was shocked at his sudden transposition. He stopped strangling the man and withdrew his hands. He pulled himself back to an upright kneeling position.
“Zmekolevv, you were right!” he called out. “We should take what we have and get out of here.” He got off the man and stood up. Looking around, he saw Zmekolevv standing nearby with a large piece of aluminium in his arms. At the same time, he saw Zmekolevv lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood. Ten metres away, Kohnphid was walking away with a chunk of steel. She was also visible in the opposite direction, struggling on the floor with an unseen adversary. Thiglak appeared twice too, the first time standing with a painted metal panel and the second time backing away from a bizarre metal monster.
“Do you see it?” asked the man as he sat up and rubbed his neck. “Are you experiencing my fractured view of the world? It’s horrible, isn’t it?! I wish that my nightmare would end. You should get out of here, my friend. Take your crew with you. I’m bad news to be around. I might have to top myself soon, to end the pain. At least I have plenty of metal and glass to cut my wrists.” He put his head in his hands and cried softly. Meanwhile, the metal monster had killed the second version of Thiglak and now turned toward Gyhuly. He saw it, screamed in terror and ran for his life. The first versions of Zmekolevv, Kohnphid and Thiglak dropped their booty and followed him as fast as they could. They all sprinted across country. Just then, people started appearing from nowhere. There were hundreds or possibly thousands of them. The four raiders had to dodge several before stopping. It wasn’t a good idea to sprint when so many people were popping out of thin air.
“Don’t...go over there!” wheezed Gyhuly, trying to warn people. “Monster, killers: too dangerous!”
“We’ll be fine; don’t worry about it!” said a woman walking by. “The world’s changing for the better. You’ll see, when you’re ready.” She kept walking and gradually faded away, as did the others.
“They’re disappearing again,” said Thiglak. “Let’s keep moving.”
“You can go wherever you want,” said a voice next to Gyhuly. “We’ll be seeing each other again before too long. Look, I already have a version of you, Gyhuly!” The original Gyhuly turned and came face to face with himself, except that his doppelganger had some metal components attached to his body.
“My name’s Stohv, by the way,” said Stohv, who was standing next to Gyhuly’s double. “Slowly, things are coming into focus. I can control this one now. This seems to be part of my destiny. I use machines to do all kinds of things. I don’t know how it works but it’s powerful and effective!” He used his influence to make the second Gyhuly smile and wave.
“We’re sorry, man!” said the original Gyhuly, backing away. “We won’t bother you anymore!” He turned and ran once again, followed by his three friends.
“That’s fine,” said Stohv. “The way I see it, I’m going to be bothering you more than vice versa.” He smiled but then he had further visions of the past and future. Some of them were tragic. Once more, he was plunged into gloom and despondency. Alternate realities continued to flutter all around him.
3. Cherished Memories
(Early life at home in the western suburbs of Neosiak City)
One day, back in Stohv’s boyhood, he was young and warm and secure and cosy. His life was fixed and set fair. He built up his toy blocks, gear wheels, shafts, bands and tyres. He could make many vehicles, conventional or eccentric. His father Dahuva watched, very pleased. Presently, Stohv brought him his latest creation. It was called ‘Swamp Crawler Four’ and it had the biggest tyres available. Stohv didn’t realise that the vehicle’s configuration was flawed. Such large tyres required a stronger engine block to drive them. That wasn’t a problem. Stohv would learn the correct methods soon enough. Dahuva hugged his son so eagerly, he thought that he’d burst. Stohv’s eyes widened as he felt a torrent of irresistible love energy engulf him. It seemed utterly endless. It opened his mind and heart to the ebb and flow of the infinite cosmos. He lost track of time. In fact, the hug only lasted half a minute but it seemed to go on and on, as much as he cared to imagine. After that unexpected window into the omni-realms, Dahuva pulled back but still clasped Stohv’s shoulders in his hands.
“My most precious boy, I want you to have the best, most fulfilling life possible,” he said. “Would you promise me that you’ll do your best to make the most of your life? The sky’s the limit! No, in fact you should experience a thousand skies! A million! A billion!”
“A trillion! A zillion!” continued young Stohv. “A trillion zillion! What’s bigger than that?”
“A googol!” said Dahuva. “A googolplex! You should stop after a googolplex and ninety two. That’s enough for a Jubusday. Have your supper and then go back to it the next day!”
“Dad, you’re being ridiculous!” said Stohv. “I might be able to see a googolplex and ninety skies in one Jubusday but a googolplex and ninety two is too many. I’d have to be God or something!” Dahuva looked into the distance for a moment, thinking profound thoughts.
“You’re right,” he said, looking back into Stohv’s eyes. “You’d need divine power to go the distance. We’ll have to work on that. If we keep living excellently, we’ll find a way. I’m sure your mother will help us.”
“Crazy Daddy!” said Stohv. “I can’t be God. Anyway, before all that sky hopping, I’ll need more blocks. When can we go and buy some? I want to build a giant, über, mega truck with seventeen horns and an animal launcher.”
“Well, I’m not sure,” said Dahuva. “It all depends...” As he spoke, Stohv reached around into his father’s back pocket. There was a mysterious crackle of electricity and Stohv pulled a wad of cash from the pocket.
“Hey, you can’t use that!” complained Dahuva. “That’s my gloating money, for showing off around town. How will I gloat without it?” Stohv tutted and shook his head as he peeled off some bills.
“You’ll have to pad out your wad with blank paper,” said Stohv. “I need blocks and you can’t refuse me. You love me too much.”
“True and you’ll need the practice,” said Dahuva. “You don’t yet know all the things I have planned for you. It’s going to be the wildest time that you could possibly imagine!” Stohv gulped: he could tell that his father really meant it.
“Don’t sweat,” said Dahuva. “You have all the time in the world: a googolplex worlds, in fact. You’ll be fine! Now, I’ll show you how to build the coolest machines. Give me your spare blocks.”
“You might be the greatest Dad but you’re not as cool as me,” said Stohv. “Give it up, old man!” Dahuva laughed and began demonstrating his amazing construction skills.
In the present, the memory of that day still burned bright in Stohv’s memory. His father was diminished now, weaker and more fragile. However, Stohv knew that the power was only sleeping within him. The right trigger could bring it back, quicker than lightning. He didn’t want to disturb him, though. Physically, old Dad wasn’t up to much anymore. Essentially, Stohv was alone now but he coped well like that.
4. Lawlessness Goes Both Ways
(A third desert area outside Neosiak City)
Every few seconds, the scene changed. The visions all seemed clear and authentic. Sometimes, animals appeared. Most of them were familiar but a few were unknown prehistoric types, with arrangements of horns, tentacles and mouth-trunks never seen before by modern folk. One or two seemed overloaded with such adornments, which could be construed as either horrific or comic. At least she didn’t have to look at them too long. For the most part, she saw landscapes. Parades of ordinary views were interspersed with flashes of brilliant beauty. Now and then, primitive people appeared at random. Mainly, they were hunting and gathering in the distance. At least three were kneeling right in front of her, apparently in prayer. They looked thin and care-worn. As time went on, a smattering of modern people were revealed. The last one was definitely in the future. She could tell because the woman was levitating a few metres above the ground. Unlike anyone else, this woman seemed aware of the viewer and waved at her briefly. She hardly smiled and her gaze was disturbing.
“Please, is anybody there?!” asked Riztanzi. “Someone’s drugged me. I can’t see reality right now.”
“That’s absurd,” said her friend Duronkest. “We’ve been watching for hours. No one’s drugged you.”
“It could be a micro-dart or a slow-acting drug,” suggested Olpur, another friend. “I’ve been reading about them in my magazines.”
“Dah! No one would bother using those on us!” snorted third friend Viboniu. “We’re low-level bandits. No one’s tracking us, as long as we’re mobile and agile. Stay where you are for now, Riztanzi. The visions should stop soon. Remember, the same thing happened to Zirenquom a few days ago.”
“I’m scared, Vib!” said Riztanzi. “There are people watching me in my visions. They see me and try to talk to me. I can’t understand their languages. Either they’re too old-fashioned or they’re foreigners. Five of them have definitely been Hecinax.”
“Have patience, Riz,” said Duronkest. “We’re living in strange times. We knew there’d be some risks when we agreed to rob the pilgrims-without-a-cause.”
“I didn’t count on being shown a massive picture show from the last million years!” said Riztanzi. “This is much worse than drugs. Everything’s in high-definition and completely out of my control. My brain’s been overrun! I should get out of here. I’m totally out of my depth. Could someone please drive me home? I can’t stand this for much longer!” There was obvious panic in her tone of voice. She rose and groped around for the exit. Olpur stepped forward and pushed her back into her seat.
“Stay there,” she warned. “It’s not safe to move you around while your perceptions are so compromised. We’re going to make sure you get through this alive and well.”
“Oh God, there are more future people!” said Riztanzi, physically recoiling from something only she could see. “They’re sticking something into me! They’re doing some kind of measurement! Damn, it’s making me feel dizzy!”
“That’s new,” said Viboniu. “The vision people are actively probing Riz. Maybe we should leave this area after all. I don’t want to lose her for the sake of some plunder. Hang in there, Riz.”
“They’ve gone now but here comes someone else,” said Riztanzi. “He’s only watching me but the feeling is...indescribable. I’ll try but...aaahhh!...what the hell?...a thousand years compressed into a moment...more and more years...he’s making me feel time...deep time...geological...no, it’s not normal!...can’t adapt...can’t breathe...I’m a forest and a valley and the sky...”
“You have to breathe, to get through this!” warned Viboniu. “Come on, in and out, in and out, work that diaphragm!” Riztanzi managed to do it, although she was being bombarded with alien sensations.
“Make him stop!” she cried in desperation. “Please stop! It’s impossible; I can’t do it!” She clung to her chair and swung her body rapidly back and forth, as if trying to shake away the experience. Her friends made sure that she didn’t fall on the floor. They were almost as scared as her. Luckily, Riztanzi’s begging brought the experience to an end. The man in her final vision walked away. The scene faded out. Reality returned.
“Thank God, I can see again!” said Riztanzi, standing up carefully and smiling. “Can I at least open the door for some fresh air?” Her friends allowed her to go a few metres outside the derelict shack that was their temporary home. It was a huge relief to regain her normal senses. The shock of experiencing deep time and being fully in tune with nature still resonated through her mind. [Inhale...exhale...repeat...focus...maintain rhythm...bathe lungs in precious air.] Her shock abated gradually. As it did so, she heard approaching footsteps. Clothes rustled, grunts and coughs became distinct, murmuring voices grew: a crowd was coming. They were on the other side of the shack and closing steadily.
“We’ve got company!” said Riztanzi, stepping into the doorway to make sure her warning was heard.
“Damn right!” said a man on her right. “You’re in our way and we’re going to flatten you!” It was too late to escape. The crowd had already reached her. The man pushed her to the ground, just outside the shack. Other people came forward with heavy pieces of debris. Riztanzi was covered with a large sheet of fabric that someone flung onto her. Before she could crawl free, various bricks, blocks and beams were dumped on the sheet. She was pinned down and mostly buried. Simultaneously, the crowd pressed forward together and made the shack collapse. Viboniu, Olpur and Duronkest were trapped underneath as further waste was piled on them.
“Trash is gathered and burnt!” announced a man. “Old wrecks are consumed to make way for shiny new things.” There were many approving words spoken and then Riztanzi heard the crowd moving on as flammable garbage was ignited. The area was covered with it. The flames began to crackle and the smell of smoke became apparent. The four bandits had been ambushed in their own hideout. They knew that their lives were in immediate peril. They strove to push away the debris, piece by piece. However, they’d all received minor injuries and slight concussions. Also, they weren’t strong enough for a quick escape. The fire could easily kill them before they got loose. They began to panic and wail. Maybe some of their friends would hear and come to help. That wasn’t very likely because everyone else was out robbing, stealing and scavenging. They wouldn’t be back until evening. As she vainly attempted to push a concrete post off her legs, Riztanzi thought about the crowd. She’d only seen them for a few moments. Most of them had been wearing backpacks, as if they’d hiked across country to be here. She believed that they were all ‘pilgrims’ like the ones she’d been robbing recently. It was very worrying that their numbers had increased so much and that they’d become more aggressive. Also, it was still a mystery why they were coming to the city. Was it some new ‘insanity plague’, as the print media had speculated? Grimly, Riztanzi continued straining her muscles against the weights laid upon her. She was starting to realise that her position was hopeless without assistance. Duronkest, Olpur and Viboniu were having no luck getting free as paper and cloth blazed around them. Wood fragments were catching light. Thicker sticks and boards were smouldering. Logs, frames and support beams would follow soon. What options were left? The metaphysical...
“You look like you could use a second chance.”
Drawn into drizzle, mingling with the mizzle.
“They don’t think you’re worth it but they’re not fully enlightened.”
Dampening the desert, dousing the danger.
“I can’t ignore four damsels in distress. You’re too useful.”
Snuffing the sparks, inhibiting the inferno.
“Heave ho, structural elements. Lift and throw, pick and toss.”
Wafting out the smoke, twirling the steam.
“Keeping you alive makes me feel likewise!”
Atoms reposition, wounds repair.
“You understand that you’re not safe here, living like this.”
A new spirit has arisen from the elements, from the æther.
“It’d be much better if you joined my movement.”
He’s a man right now but he’s not truly gendered.
“I’m saving your lives. You owe me something.”
He’s not making typical male demands.
“You’re criminals but you understand blood bargains.”
It’s seduction but on a much deeper level.
“If we unite, we’ll be infinitely stronger.”
Falling into nature.
“I bet you wish you’d tidied up now!”
Those serene moments from fond memory, rising to engulf.
“Control your environment, control your destiny.”
Never saw this coming.
“Messy and selfish, you hoes need schooling.”
Lord, is this Your Will?
“What a tangle! Let’s pull off this rebel rag.”
The blinds come off. He’s right there. As I feared. As I hoped.
“Time to stand up and face the world again!”
He leans forward, takes my hand. His grip is warm, like stone in the spring sunshine. He’s in no hurry, breezing along on a gentle day. I rise with little effort. My clothing is scuffed and dirty but my body has healed miraculously. He holds me close for a moment. Our breath mixes and recirculates. His air enters me. It’s more than air. It awakens me to a different world of extraordinary possibilities. I sense further, faster, for longer.
“My friends!” said Riztanzi, returning to something like normal consciousness. “The fire’s going out but they’re still caught under the shack.” She and the stranger worked methodically to free the three other bandits. Luckily, there were no ‘pilgrims’ around. They’d all gone on to Neosiak City, searching for God knew what. Riztanzi could hardly believe that a supernatural man had abruptly entered her life. Was it connected to the ‘pilgrimage’ enigma? That was very possible but the presence of the man soothed her fears. He radiated calm acceptance like the sun radiated power. When Duronkest, Viboniu and Olpur were released, they sat up and stared at the man. They were entranced by his aura.
“Such an attentive audience,” said the man. “Will you join me?” The three women were confused. How could they not join him when they were under his spell? Did he want some sort of validation? Olpur crawled over on all fours, knelt before him and touched the top of his trousers. Perhaps he needed release.
“Should I...?” she enquired.
“There’s no need,” said the man. “My aims are, shall we say, more spiritual. I’m sure you knew that as soon as I arrived.”
“So what should we do, if anything?” asked Olpur.
“We’ll go to the city centre and join the pilgrims,” said the man. “We’re going to form a new kind of society, vastly superior to what you have now.”
“Won’t they try to kill us again?” queried Duronkest.
“Not with me and my people around,” said the man. “We can tame the mortals.”
“I’m sure you can,” said Viboniu, her eyes opening to his full potential. “You certainly tamed us. What’s your name, by the way?”
“Call me Uthaim,” said Uthaim. “It’s not my original name but it’s contemporary and appropriate.”
“This region is called Uthaim,” said Duronkest. “You’re connected to it somehow, right?”
“I am this region,” said Uthaim. “I foster life here. However, things are changing. I may have to leave my ancient home soon. Many of us will do likewise.”
“The new society,” said Olpur, standing up. “It’s going to be epic, that’s for sure!”
“I’m glad that we understand each other,” said Uthaim. “I know how anxious you mortals can be. I sense it every day. I always try to calm you down.” He put his arms around Olpur and Riztanzi’s shoulders and walked with them toward NC. Duronkest and Viboniu followed closely behind. They sensed that they wouldn’t need their meagre belongings, so they left them behind. As they walked, the four women revelled in Uthaim’s sensational aura. It was as if they were showering under cool waterfalls, drying on slabs of warm rocks and luxuriating in beds of soft moss. After the rigours and perils of bandit life, this was pure bliss.
5. Museum Psychometry
(Neosiak City Centre)
“He’s coming!” said the scruffy man as he clutched Stohv’s shoulders. “The Great One will unify us, mark my words!”
“I’m sure she will!” said Stohv, trying to break free in a polite manner. “We don’t know where or when, though. If you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment with friends.” Reluctantly, the scruffy man let him go. Stohv had spoken as if he had foreknowledge. The scruffy man was re-evaluating his preconceptions. Perhaps he should be looking out for a woman as well as a man? Stohv went a few steps further.
“Are you ready, brother?” asked a thin faced woman ten metres further on. “The Great One is nearly upon us.”
“Alert me when it comes!” said Stohv, side-stepping with a smile. The earnestness of the pilgrims amused him. He continued dodging between them as he headed for the junction of Shiz and Unyon. The numbers were building up nicely, as he’d anticipated. He used his special influence to dissuade them from interacting with him. At the street corner, he stood against a block wall and watched as people walked by in all directions. His friends hadn’t arrived yet, which was unusual. There was no way of checking on their whereabouts without someone going to search for them. He had to wait and see who would show up. If no one came in an hour, he’d leave and do something else. He’d have to meet his friends another time, in that case. Five minutes later, he noticed a very old man approaching in a powered wheelchair. He was bundled up in a thick coat and hat. The crowds parted to let him through. It was only when he reached Stohv that his identity became apparent.
“Dad, what are you doing out here?” asked Stohv. “You’ll get cold and sick. You might even lose your way and have to be brought home by police!”
“Nonsense!” said Dahuva in his old, quavering voice. “I can come out on little trips like this, no problem.”
“Where are my friends?” asked Stohv, irritated. “We were going to eat, drink and be merry.”
“They’re at home, blissfully unaware of this meeting,” replied Dahuva. “I wanted to show you something in the Fusty-Dusty History Museum. It’s important.”
“I think that I’ve got everything in hand, Dad,” said Stohv, crouching down in front of Dahuva. “The whole transition process is going very well. Sometimes I have swimming-head syndrome but it passes. What more is there to learn?”
“There’s always another perspective,” said Dahuva. “Even now things can surprise you.”
“Alright, let’s get this over with,” said Stohv, commanding Dahuva’s wheelchair to grow mechanical legs. “Show me this thing in the ‘national attic’ and then your odd little energy spurt will have achieved its purpose.” Dahuva smiled as the new legs carried him across the street and up the museum steps. Stohv followed close behind. Already, he was receiving quiet messages from the thousands of artefacts in the ancient collections.
“It’s OK, we don’t have to pay,” said Dahuva to the attendant in the ticket office. “I’m retired and my son isn’t a regular person anymore. He’s rapidly developing into a super-being.” Dahuva’s powers allayed all suspicion and the attendant waved them through. Stohv found himself overwhelmed by psychometric impressions emanating from the exhibits and also the other items in the store rooms above and below. He had to sit on a bench as he struggled to focus. Dahuva was amplifying the information stream, partly to help his son and partly to test him. Stohv wrestled with over a hundred thousand stories, some of which were millions or even billions of years long. To complicate things further, the rocks below the foundations and the structure of the museum itself added their own inputs.
“Coping?” asked Dahuva.
“478b-Three-million-four-hundred-thousand-seven-hundred-and-ninety-eight-years-under-a-layer-of-rough-gneiss-followed-by-six-thousand-five-hundred-and-twenty-nine-years-under-turf-and-forest-then-dug-up-and-shaped-into-sixty-three-oblong-blocks,” replied Stohv, his body under strain due to the mental exertion. “6129h-Carried-for-nineteen-years-four-months-by-a-woman-called-Jaimalet-which-translates-as-droopy-lips-It-did-her-no-good-in-the-end-because-she-died-of-a-multistep-fungus-plague-that-was-transmitted-along-the-food-chain...”
“Stop quoting things and take the gist,” advised Dahuva. “I want you to look for patterns.” Stohv groaned loudly in protest and lay down full length on the bench. Surely this would give him a headache! Laboriously, he tried to boost his brain power with cybernetic implants.
“Twenty nine point one percent of the fossils are misclassified,” said Stohv. “The experts should have a rethink about the taxonomy. Three genera are unrecognised.”
“Keep looking!” said Dahuva.
“Oh come on, I just reclassified the whole collection!” said Stohv peevishly. “Surely that has to mean something!”
“I’m sure it does to someone,” said Dahuva. “It’s not my point, though. Collate your findings and look again.”
“Can’t you just tell me the answer?” complained Stohv.
“I won’t always be available,” said Dahuva. “My days are numbered. You have to work things out for yourself. This is training. Actually, it’s a simple exercise compared to what’s coming.” Stohv said nothing more for a while. He was determined to search until he’d found his father’s bugbear. It probably wasn’t in the rocks and fossils, so he concentrated on the more recent pieces: those related to people in some way. He picked up a simple ceramic saucer from the fuff-clig era, when people were fighting with air cannons that made a ‘fuff-clig’ noise upon loading. The saucer had been touched by several hundred people over the years but had survived unbroken. Some of those people had been keen fighters while others hadn’t. After a while, he noticed that none of those people had actually wanted to kill anyone, even the most enthusiastic battlers.
Putting down the saucer, Stohv walked over to other displays. He was drawn to the dagger of a warrior who’d died three thousand years ago. The dagger and other associated metal pieces were very rusty. They’d only survived because they’d been forged with superior alloys and then kept in dry conditions. He touched the dagger lightly and started to experience its uses. Of course, it had cut many fibres and fabrics. It’d also sliced and stabbed hundreds of meat chunks. At times of danger, it’d been used dozens of times to threaten people. The worst thing was that it’d penetrated the living flesh of thirty four people. Most of them had died subsequently, either through blood loss or infection. Stohv could detect the warrior’s emotions during each of these attacks. He’d seen them all as necessary in some way. Twelve had been clearly self-defence. Five had been to silence witnesses. Six had been to execute prisoners, in order to punish others. Four had been to overcome resistance during raids. Three had been to send a grisly message to others. The final four had been the mercy killings of his wife and two children, followed by his suicide as enemies closed in.
This warrior had been happy in his youth but, when the proper fighting had started, he’d been increasingly miserable. Killing animals had been hard yet killing people had proved to be a major drain on his psyche. He’d been glad to end it all at the age of thirty two. Stohv was starting to see a pattern and make connections. This was why conflicts seemed to fizzle out fairly quickly or degenerate into petty feuds and slanging matches. Killers often boasted of their thirst for blood and lack of remorse but they didn’t really want to kill. Around the corner, Stohv found some sheets of dried skin that had been sewn together three centuries ago. The skin had belonged to four people. Now, it was flaky and very fragile. It couldn’t be touched or else it would fall apart. Stohv peered at it through the glass. Experts agreed that the skins had been sewn together while the four people were still alive. The stitching was even and precise, implying that the people had remained still during the sewing, despite the pain. Also, they hadn’t moved or struggled much after the sewing. They hadn’t tried to get free. They’d stayed like this until they died shortly afterwards. Stohv could sense that these four people had tried to set an example for others. They’d submitted to being stitched together to symbolise their belief that everyone should unite. Their method was extreme and regarded as going too far. They hadn’t been commemorated, so their names were unknown. However, their dedication was very strong. They’d taken poison and left the world together in great joy.
“I understand,” said Stohv. “The people of the world want unification. Old instincts are obsolete. Killing and mistreatment must end. The time is almost upon us.”
“This world is a special one because I made it so,” said Dahuva. “Anyway, my little errand is complete. Now, we should go home for snykk and frubol.” Stohv followed obediently, failing to question why his father wanted food and drink when he had enough mystic power to reshape global society. Dahuva had always overawed him but in a completely benevolent way.