Tales of the Last Bard
Charles Delaney
Copyright 2012 by Charles Delaney
Smashwords Edition
Prologue
The following is fan fiction based on William Hope Hodgson's book "The Night Land". Had the book been written today it would be cutting edge fiction with some of the concepts put forth. That it was written a century ago makes it even more amazing. H.P. Lovecraft considered it to be the best piece of macabre fiction ever written and I would heartily agree. If you've not read the book it can be found free on line. I would recommend chapter 2 as the best sampler: http://fiction.eserver.org/novels/nightland/chap02.html Fair warning, the writing style is as horrid as the story itself is fascinating. It's because of that that so many fans of the book will write their own variants, I guess we're trying to save the concept from the author's style. This collection represents some of my efforts along those lines. They are placed in "chronological order", progressing from the time of the Traveling Cities to that of the Great Redoubt. I will offer one disclaimer here. The last stories, beginning with “No Women, Ever!” have descriptions of the horrid deaths that await those who would venture into the Night Land. These things were only implied in the original book by the author. If you do not care to read of such things by all means omit these from your reading. That is why I have placed them last. But to all readers who embarks on this journey into the Night Land, I raise my Diskos to you!
Table of Contents
Road's End
Stepping Stones, Parts I, II, and III
West into Darkness
Progeny, The Challenge
Progeny, Point of No Return
Perspectives
The Ecology of the Night Land
Climate in the West Valley
No Women, ever!
The Fall of the Lesser Redoubt I
The Fall of the Lesser Redoubt II
The Fall of the Lesser Redoubt III
Road's End
The time was drawing near. The time of the Gathering at Road's End. The Long Dark, when the lands froze, was over. As was the Bright Torrent, that followed the slow return of the sun into the sky, which replenished the Delving's underground cisterns. Waters that would be desperately needed as the sun crept higher and the Burning Time began. But now the searing sun was sinking towards the horizon. Already the eastern side of the mountains were in shadow. Soon the clouds of the Dark Torrent would come to soak the parched earth and allow a brief time of planting and harvest. Too brief to sustain the Delving alone. Left to that sparse husbandry it would cease to be. But after the Torrent passed would come the great City along the Road. There would be a Gathering and each would provide what was lacking in the other. Once an accord was reached...
It began at the time of the first Road Builders, when the mighty Cities were made as well. It was when the Earth's rotation slowed enough to warrant humankind leaving it's shelters to forever chase the light of the waning sun. Thus began the mighty work on the Cities. Before them went the Road Builders, who laid the great rails the Cities would ride upon. It was planned that, as the great Cities set out, that they would catch up to the Road Builders as they completed their final constructions that would join the globe girdling Road in and endless loop. Then they would rejoin their their brethren in the Cities so all shared in the benefits of this great work. Along many Roads this happened. But not all...
Envoy Kirce looked out at the approaching clouds of the Torrent, it's distant rumbles of thunder adding to her growing foreboding. This Gathering she would be Chief Envoy for the Delving with the City. She did not feel equal to the responsibility. Were this an average Gathering she would not be concerned overly. But, it was not. The world they knew was changing and because of that the City would not like what had to be said. If they did not listen all could be in great peril. They must listen. They must!...
When the mighty City began to roll ponderously along the new Road all the stress monitors read nominal. Scouts riding far ahead reported the Road without flaw or variance that night compromise the endless Journey. Thus they continued, comforted by the knowledge of the Road Builders' skill. All seemed well until a line of mountains loomed ahead and the scouts reported the Road ended at their feet. The mountains had proven a greater barrier than expected. Too high to be surmounted, and a tunnel of the dimensions required for the City to pass through was beyond even the Road Builders, this left removing the mountain as the only solution. Thus the Road stopped there until this mighty toil could be completed. Longer still after that it would be to extend the Road so that the Journey could be renewed. During this time the population built shelter in the very mountains that thwarted them. Ores were discovered and mined to speed the labors. Finally the Journey could recommence, but not all chose to rejoin it. Some chose to remain in the shelters, feeling this a safer place than the Journey. Some chose to maintain the pass created so the Journey would not be interrupted again. Yet other chose to mine the ores for what the City would need as it passed on it's next cycle along the Journey. Thus began the Delving and the Gatherings.
Morga was the Negotiator for the City. He looked over the reports with their projections and frowned. they were hardly encouraging. Production from the Delving had dropped steadily over the last several cycles. With the recent renovations to the primary drive trains their stockpiles were becoming critically low. Should a major repair be needed, or the Road needed maintained, the Journey could be threatened and the City with it. Morga looked at the approaching mountains and, still frowning, made up his mind. The Delvers must be made to understand. They must!...
With the arrival of the City, grinding to a halt in the pass, the Gathering began. Delvers swarmed from their underground shelters to set up shops of well made trade goods of unmatched quality that City artisans could not equal. These shops nestled under the massive chassis of the City, where Delvers were most at ease. The City dwellers, for their part, set their shops in the open air and slanting rays of the retreating sun. Here they were most comfortable and best showed the bright colors of their cunning art that was lacking within the Delving.
Between these areas a festival zone existed where swarthy City dwellers in bright flowing costumes mixed freely with pale Delvers in more somber dress. The novelty of each to the other brought much gaiety, flirtations, and furtive trysts. Such indiscretions were overlooked during the Gatherings, for any children born of them would augment a limited gene pool.
But not all was festive, much work had to be done in a short time. Work crews swarmed over the drive trains of the City doing maintainence that would have been far harder during the Journey. Broken and worn equipment was unloaded for Delver forges and shops to repair and recycle. Raw materials from Delver mines were brought out to replaced them. But the items of greatest importance, foodstuffs from the City and finished parts from the Delving, were held in reserve. those items were the province of the Envoys and Negotiators to decide on. There too the mood was not festive...
Kirce was not impressed with the Negotiator. Too tall and slight of build to be a Delver, he also wore his hair long in the vain City fashion, who preferred letting it blow in the perpetual wind of the Journey. For his part Morga saw a typical Delver in the Envoy. Short, stocky, and hair close cropped in the spartan Delver style. Their meeting place was under the mighty City's bulk but open to the air and sun's rays. A place where neither would feel uncomfortable or overly advantaged. Thus, mindful of the short time they had, deliberations began...
Morga: "Our stockpiles are nearly depleted. You must increase production lest the City be placed at risk. Which would equally threaten the Delving since we are linked."
Kirce: "We cannot increase our production, our stockpiles are barely sufficient for our projected needs. Needs that include the City's, though you will likely doubt it, in what now must be broached."
Morga: "If this need takes supplies from the City and it's Journey, I will doubt indeed. What need could override the continuance of the Journey?"
Kirce: "It's ending."
Morga: "How?! With the Delving's aid there is no section of the City we cannot repair or replace as we Journey. Even the Road's maintainence is not beyond our capabilities. Now you would withdraw that aid to the ruin of us all! Why?!"
Kirce: "Because things are changing. There is now more to consider than the Journey. And we do not withdraw our aid, we extend more than ever before!"
Morga: "By starving us?"
Kirce: "Fool! You only see the Journey. You forget your Journey rides on the labors of my ancestors, the Road Builders! It continues still by our labors today. When the pass was created through these mountains it caused tectonic stresses to form. Stresses that, left unchecked, will destroy the Road and collapse the pass. Thus we continue our labors on your behalf, even in the freezing Long Dark and blazing Burning Time, long after you leave again on your Journey."
Morga: "You speak of what every child knows. On this you base your excuses?"
Kirce: "Twice fool!! Yes! For every one of our children know you must constantly monitor those stresses and look too for trends you can predict. Those predictions point to the threat we are preparing for."
Morga: "Just what is the nature of this 'threat' you fear so?"
Kirce: "First I would ask whether you have experienced undue tectonic activity over this last cycle?"
Morga: "Indeed! That is why our stockpiles are so low and you must increase production to compensate!"
Kirce: "Those problems will only become worse if our predictions prove accurate."
Morga: "Then it is all the more critical to increase production."
Kirce: You do not understand. We have been monitoring tectonic forces throughout the planet's crust. They are building towards some end we can not even measure the magnitude of with accuracy. All we know with surety is the cataclysm to come will be like no other that has come before. We must be prepared for that time. It is predicted it will happen during the next cycle. When it comes we will have the means to deal with it. If we yet live.
Morga: "If I am twice the fool then you are thrice so! You've rubbed your eyes in dirt for so long you think us as blind as you. Just as you feel the pulse of the earth, we feel the air. The geomagnetic forces of this world that we use to aid in driving the City. These earth currents are now fluctuating. The pattern suggests a reversal of polarity and might likewise mean a shift in the planetary core that drives it. We have been upgrading in preparation for this, but we need to replenish our stockpiles for all eventualities.
Kirce: If what you say is true the situation is more critical than we thought. The world has never spun so slowly and a core shift could have unforeseen results. It is good that you have done upgrades, for it is all the more imperative we maintain our plans now..."
The deliberations did not go well. Neither felt the other had granted enough of needed supplies. Both felt bitterness over the anticipated shortages. But time bore on and the approaching darkness forced each to accept what was. The great City began to rumble again on it's Journey, leaving the Delving and darkness in it's wake. Life returned to it's normal patterns. For a time.
When the first shock wave came no one in the Delving saw it. During the ebon time of the Long Night on one looked out into the starless night. But, had they, they would have seen the approaching faery fire that marked the wavefront. What was seen was the results. Landslides, cave ins, flooded tunnels from ruptured waterlines, fires, and countless deaths. Shocks continued to roll through the ruins for a seeming eternity. When they finally did subside the survivors could barely say they were that. Slowly they sifted through the rubble and began to rebuild. The Long Dark wore on. And on. And yet on. Long after the sun should have returned and the Bright Torrent should have begun the Stygian dark continued.
Then came the great City. It came from the west, opposite it's normal direction from the east. This was such an unbelievable occurrence that all stopped to stare. The City lights slowly moved closer and it could be seen that many of it's towers were missing and sparks and smoke came from some of the great wheels that carried it along. It groaned to a halt where the landslides covered the Road and choked the pass. The meeting between the Envoy and Negotiator was far different than the prior one.
Kirce and Morga regarded each other. She had lost and arm and walked with a limp. He was burned on the side of his face and his mane of hair was gone. Kirce was the first to speak:
"We lived."
"Yes. Shall we continue to?"...
Some time later the pair met again
"...So you have found a stable zone?"
In response Kirce produced a geo-metric map and pointed to a convergence of esoteric symbols. "Here. It was near the epicenter and thus released the most tectonic stress. Calculations suggest it could remain stable indefinitely."
Morga peered at the map, then produced one of his own. It's symbols too had a convergence point. Overlaid on each other the maps showed the two convergences were in the same area. "These are our measures of the earth currents show a concentration coinciding with your stable zone. The Road runs very near the region. Since we must eventually leave here I suggest we investigate"...
The meeting was short and the decisions swift. Excavations began in earnest. Stockpiles were unearthed. Workshops brought back on line. The City's damage was repaired or replaced. Structures were stripped to the most spartan conditions. All surviving supplies were loaded cavernous shells of other buildings. When the City finally rolled away the Delvers left with it, for there would be no returning. Eventually the sun crept over the horizon to hang sullen in the sky. Eventually they came to the edge of a great rift at the calculated epicenter. There the Road ended, collapsed into the rift's depths. Measures were taken and it was found that the Earth's rotation had stopped completely, the sun would hang eternally in the sky. A planting was attempted but the soil was barren and would not sustain life. Measures of the rift showed it held warmth, water, and sunlight. Though reeking with sulfurous fumes it offered the best chance for life. Pilings were driven into the rift's rim as a new Road was begun. One that would take the City down into the rift's cloud shrouded depths. This Journey would take many lifetimes to complete. When it was, the Road and the Journey upon it would end utterly. They would finally be Home.
* * * * * * *
Stepping Stones – I
Author's note: This story is broken into 3 separate parts purposely because it deals with 3 points in the main character's life. It also sets forth a reason for the branching of humanity into those of the Redoubt and those that became known as Ab-humans.
There is no way to describe the cataclysm that formed the Valley that was the final home to Mankind. We have no scale that let's the mind encompass the raw power involved in causing the skin of the world to tear open for 2000 miles and leave a wound 100 miles deep. The greatest of our weapons, that can lay waste to entire cities and regions are beyond us to grasp, and even they are magnitudes beneath that event which forged the Valley. Almost to the point of insignificance when compared. The rift formed as the earth was rent apart. Into that gap flowed super heated molten rock from below. Fumes and vapor vented in geysers that reached almost to the heavens. The planet shrieked it's pain and agony in a sound that could slay any close enough to hear it. And yet, within this megalithic moment that superseded anything that came before, the world granted a final chance to those who struggled to survive. Yes, the liquid rock that flowed across the Valley floor would turn any coming near it to ash. Yes, the sulfurous vapors would choke the life from all in moments of taking the first breath of it. But eventually the molten rocked cooled and solidified. Eventually the vapors condensed and the air became less caustic. And the last of mankind came upon this place and chose to descend into the depths, to leave the dying surface of the world behind and attempt to seek refuge in the depths below. This was no casual decision for it would take countless generations to complete the decent. It wasn't merely the lowering down of a few things. It was an entire species and all that would sustain it that needed to come along. Also the decent was perilous. Each move down the rock face had to be planed out in advance to be sure the habitats would be supported and not crash down to destruction. The vapors and mists needed constant monitoring to map out the progression and extrapolate the eventual composition. Eugenicists needed this information to check for advantageous traits in the gene pool that needed to be spread throughout the population to assure racial survival. Whole generations lived and died never knowing anything but their en-capsuled lives in carefully controlled environs. Eventually though came the time when the Valley floor came into view. Then came the time of the greatest challenge. To leave the habitats and their controlled existences and attempt to deal with the wild Valley on it's terms, not Mankind's....
The landscape at it's most benign was utterly desolate. Black basalt, twisted, broken, and warped, was the whole of the Valley floor. It soaked up the rays of the waning sun that hung perpetually in the sky and spat back an oppressive heat that would make the harshest deserts of an earlier time seem mild and temperate in comparison. All was heat shimmers and mirages. Well, perhaps not all. Into this hellish land appears a dot. It wavers on the horizon and seems just one more false image amongst them all. But this one endures. It continues to move closer rather than remaining at an illusive distant. Eventually the dot grows larger as it draws near, it begins to take a shape. The shape becomes a figure, a person, striding along at a carefully measured pace. The pace designed to cover the blistering ground with the least effort, with the least expenditure of effort that would cause too much sweating and loss of vital moisture. The figure continues on without pause or change of gait. The figure is covered not unlike a contemporary desert dweller, for form follows function and similar conditions require similar solutions. When the figure finally pauses for the need of rest it unpacks a unique item not from those past desert dwellers' times. A folding cot that would keep the figure cooler for being above the searing ground. A part of the cot is also a shade placed to the sunward side. Part to shield the figure from the unrelenting light of the sun, part to shield from the constant hot wind that blows from the direction of the sun. The figure moves ever to the west. Eventually the figure comes to a place where the valley wall are recessed and a large area is shadowed from the constant sun. The figure moves towards the shadowed place. Once into the shadowed zone the figure moves past the foundations of what will come structures to house the populations still clinging to the side of the great Valley. Those numbers could be seen hanging above, their habitats glowing bright in the gloom were the figure to pay that any attention. The figure doesn't, instead it continues to move further into the darkness. Within that huge nitch of darkness the rock is cooler than beyond. The air cools within the nitch and blows down and outwards because of it, The figure's clothes that shielded in from the vicious heat now protects it from the cold wind. But the figure now uncovers it's face to breath in the chill air gladly. The face is finely featured and attractive, a feminine face. The woman continues on until she comes to a grouping of structures. She moves to them and enters one. She is home.
Sharna's home was spartan, same as everyone else that had left the Habitats that still hung in the gloom above, but compared to the harshness of the Valley floor it was luxury to revel in. And she did while half dozing, pressed against her husband laying beside her. It was so much more pleasant than the meeting where she gave her report to her superior....
"Was there anything to report from your eastern march?"
"Yes. With the supplies from the way stations we established I was able to make it three marches further than any other Scout yet. It payed off because I found another recessed zone like here, though smaller. Most importantly there is water to be found. Like here the cooler rocks allows condensation to form and pool below. It would not be hard to establish a new colony there when the time comes. The meteorological information gather is also of interest. There was a lessening in the winds and evidence of dust dunes. In all it seems to point to the theorized windless zone where the hot air rises to circulate back west."
"At any other time that might be good news. However the Council has opted to discontinue most of the Scout activities until we are better established here, as it is seen as a waste of resources and personal needed for that."
"Why should they do that?! We know next to nothing about this place! If those fools would leave the Habitats they would know that, instead they cower there while we labor to recreate their prisons to scurry into once done!"
"I said most, not all, of the Scout activities. The attempts to reach the North Wall are suspended, and with good reason. We cannot afford to lose even one person from the gene pool. Crossing the Valley has cost us several lives and was the reason for the Council's decisions. The habitable zone you found would not have changed that decision, it is too far away to exploit at this time, which is why the eastern explorations are also curtailed. The only reason the western exploration have not also been stopped is they were just getting started and the Council was convinced we should have at least some knowledge of that direction."
"Am I to be one of the remaining Scouts? Or am I to be removed?"
"Were it my decision, yes, you would have been removed. But you are our best Scout and the eugenics Council insists you remain."
"You don't approve of my being a woman in what you see as a man's position."
"No, I do not.
It's not chauvinism, but pragmatism, that makes my decision. It is
your sex's unique nature that provides the stability to our society.
If we can't afford to lose a male Scout we can not afford all the
more to lose you."
"So I should know my place and
remain there. No, such servitude also squanders precious resources in
the abilities unused, and that 'stability' is no longer of use in the
new world we now have before us. It will require new patterns yet to
be discovered. It will be this Scout that will seek them."
"You are stubborn Sharna, more than I wager your husband can tolerate more often than not. But Scout you will remain and you can leave on the next western march when you are ready. The western station is setting supply caches all should be ready when you reach it."
"Then I will set out after I rest one march."
....Sharna continued to doze for a few more moments but soon it was obvious that her body was rousing. When she tried to rise but her husband held her back from the attempt. "Stay" was all he said.
"We've had this discussion before."
"You don't have to go."
"I don't have to, you are right. I want to."
"You know the eugenicists have granted us the offer of a child."
"Then it's all the more important that I go."
"So you can run from this talk yet again? I do not understand why you resist a family."
"I do not resist, I labor for that future. You understand, but refuse to acknowledge it. My child will be born to a larger world than this one, not before."
"What if the world you seek never comes?"
"I will address that when I must. There is time yet before that comes."
"Your patience then is more than mine."
"If you are so impatient to breed then go to the eugenicists! They will find a compatible woman for your needs!"
Sharna stormed out of their home and set her feet to begin her newest march.....
Although mankind had machines that aided in it's mobility a Scout always walked. A machine can fail under the harsh conditions in the Valley, stranding those who had depended on it. Better the machine that was the body for, though seemingly frail, when trained it could continue to function long after metal and crystal ceased. It would take Sharna 2 marches to reach the western Scout station, such was the size of the shadowed region where mankind was making it's toehold. Sharna settled into her practiced pace even though she didn't need to conserve herself there. She, without thinking, kept aware of her body and it's condition as she walked along. Her eyes took in all that was about, noting landmarks and terrain. She could see the Habitats above in the gloom, shining with their lights from where they yet clung to the wall of the mighty Valley. Most of mankind remained there, awaiting the success (or failure) of the vanguard that Sharna was apart of. Only then would the others make their way down. Sharna thought little of those above, she had been quite pleased to escape from those cramp places and breath air that wasn't processed into a bland sterility. Instead she looked upon the Lake far to the left. It was formed from countless rivulets that formed as the hot air of the sunlit Valley found the cool rocks of the shadowed walls and any moisture it carried condensed to eventually drip into that lake. She could see the the beginnings of one of the viaducts that would become the canal system that brought those waters to the farmlands. Those farms she could see to her right in the terminator region where the sun's light grew stronger the further out from the shadowing valley walls. It was near those farms that Sharna ended her march with the workmen of the canals. Such people she preferred. Though earthy and sometimes brusque they shared her fascination with the Valley and were willing to test themselves against it. Each blow of their picks into the hard rock rang with a victory they intended to make manifest even when they were ignorant of the greater scope of things. As could be the case with such men, being earthy, there were a few that offered more hospitality than she desired, but she declined them all. It was not that any societal rule prevented that, for casual matings were not discouraged by those inclined, for it helped mix the traits through the race. Also not when the eugenicists might "encourage" such a casual mating for racial health even within established couples. No, rather she was on a March and that took all of her being.
Sharna's 2nd march was through a flat lowland area not yet being developed and so she made good time to the station. She mused over the marking of time with "marches", for there was no objective way that mankind knew anymore beyond the ones arbitrarily set. Even before mankind began it's Descent into the Valley it had only known constant light for time beyond memory. That time when the slow yet turning earth completed a day in a year's time. Mankind would ever follow the the sun and the life it granted. The words "day" and "year" had already lost all meaning. Sharna had read of such things in the most ancient archives but her mind would not grasp such a time as they described. It was not that she could not imagine such past wonders, it was that they were past and she was in the present. A present who's possibilities she found far more intriguing.
After resting at the Scout station Sharna began her first march into the Valley's light and heat. It would take until her 2nd march to reach the supply cache established in another shadowed nitch in the Valley wall. Though too small to be useful for anything else it would provide a much needed relief in what could be a very long march otherwise. Though Sharna had adequate supplies she spent the time setting her pace for maximum efficiency. She was going west instead of east this time. The sun shone down into her eyes and the constant hot wind blew at her, resisting her forward progress. It required a subtle change to her gait, to use only the effort needed and no more. In a place where even a slight extra expenditure meant an extra drop of sweat, sweat that was moisture needed for survival, one needed to be ever mindful. As with the Lake behind, formed from mere drops, such things added up for the unwary.
At the cache there were 2 other Scouts. There was to be 3 but it was explained that the 3rd had gone ahead to find a likely spot for the next way station. Of him the others had no knowledge, save that he was overdue to return. Sharna knew that Scout well. An impetuous youth eager for the adventure. While she could appreciate his spirit Sharna had to wonder if perhaps this time that enthusiasm had cost him dearly. There was nothing to be done about it though, save to press on and perhaps find out what had happened. After resting and re-supply Sharna stepped back into the light, heat, and wind on her next march.
Sharna continued for 3 marches without incident or clue as to the lost Scout. This was of some concern as she managed to cover more ground than most Scouts during a march, there should be some clue by now. She judged there were enough supplies for another march before having to turn back, with perhaps another half march to be stretched from them if there was cause. The Valley walls she noted had turned slightly inward here. Not enough to provide shade from the constant sun, but enough to block the view of the lands beyond. It was for this reason that the western exploration had initially been curtailed. Sharna was walking into the Unknown. Though that thrilled her it made no change to her pace or distract her from the discipline of the march. Towards the end of that final march the walls of the Valley turned outwards again and Sharna could see the vistas beyond. What was there amazed her into immobility.
Here the Valley flared out wider. Far beyond Sharna could see the end to the Valley. Or would if it was not hidden in shadows for the wall blocked the sun's light in the utter west. Not just shadow blocked the view, there seemed to be a mist near the terminator of this shadowed area. "Clouds" was the ancient word from the archives. And there was something more, the hint of something within the silvered mirages on the land. A hint of color, green in hue. What it might be she could not guess. She decided to complete this march and to take the half march in an attempt to get as close as she could to identify what she had discovered. If the other Scout had gotten this far he would have done similar, perhaps she would finally find him as well.
Towards the end of the half march Sharna stood on a rise in the land that gave her a better view of things. Yes, there did seem to be these "clouds" near the end of the Valley. The green hue remained an elusive hint from here. But amongst the shimmering mirages Sharna spotted something new. It seemed a mirage but something alerted her that it wasn't quite right. What it was she could not tell from there but it was close enough she could reach it before having to turn back. Sharna set out down the other side of the rise towards the "mirage". What she found was a wonder beyond the others espied so far. WATER! It was a fitful brackish trickle that wormed through the land, but it was water! Water where there should be none. Now Sharna knew where the other Scout had gone if he had reached here, he would have continued to follow this stream to it's source. Sharna felt the same tug at this discovery but held back. The other Scout had not returned, that was warning enough against that foolishness. No, she would turn back as planned and return re-supplied to continue this exploration, this discovery would wait for that. And it was hers to make by the traditions the Scouts maintained amongst themselves. But for now, home and report this wonder...
It took time to set the supply caches that allowed a Scout reach the turning of the Valley walls fully supplied, but once that was done Sharna was ready for the first march unto the unknown. As with the first time here she registered there was also a change in the wind. It blew just as strongly but it did not seem quite as heated. She would take readings when she completed the march for rest. Finding the stream again Sharna began to follow it towards it's source. The only change to the march was her stopping periodically to soak her clothing in the stream. Though not fit to drink it could yet provide cooling "sweat" to prolong her own precious supply of such. She was not the only one to do that, the land did it as well. By the end of that march the stream had grown larger and seemed less brackish. The heat of the land was causing the stream to evaporate as it moved along. It was luck that Sharna had found it when she did, too far in the other direction and it would have disappeared completely and been missed.
The end of the next march brought Sharna to the edge of a small lake, more a pond than anything else. Here another wonder met her eyes. In the delta of volcanic silt of where the stream that fed the lake she saw something green. It was a plant! Stunted and twisted it yet lived wild in a blasted land. It was the first plant that Sharna had ever seen outside of a hydroponic greenhouse. Now she knew what the fleeting colored mirage was, it was life! Life that had not waited for mankind to transplant it here. It had come of it's own accord and in it's own way. Sharna did not touch the plant but rather left it where it was, for she felt a kindred spirit with it. Something that refuses to be limited to what is thought proper or accepted. Before Sharna began her next march she replenished her water supply from the lake, having judged it safe to do so, and noted it's wild taste that the distilled version she was carrying lacked. With that the march began.
The march brought Sharna close enough to the shadowed end of the Valley start making out details. She also noted the air was becoming more temperate as she drew closer which also caused fewer mirages to confound her sight. Ahead was a line of mountains that poked out of the shadows into the light above. Huge basalt blocks that had been tossed about in the violent formation of the Valley. Such Sharna had seen before in various places. What was new was that within the shadowed flanks there were clouds that even from here there could be seen the occasional flicker of lightening. Here, as where mankind was beginning it's start, the hot airs were meeting with cool stone and causing it to condense any moisture it carried. But the scale of it here was such that these storms could easily engulf mankind's little nitch in the walls. She also noted that the green color within the heat shimmers was much less fitful, so they must be close enough to perhaps reach. It was then that Sharna made a decision as she was to begin what should have been her final march forward. Between the ample supply of water that the stream, now more a river, provided and the cooler temperatures she decided to abandon the discipline of the march and set off on a ground covering trot that would take her further than any march she'd ever been on yet.
As she moved along on the march Sharna noted the here and there other plants would but growing, singly and in clumps by the river, and the these clumps were growing more frequent as she moved along. Finally a gnarled tree was seen, the vanguard of it's kind. By the end of that march Sharna had reached a small woodland and she breathed in the perfume of living things that was in the wind that hissed through the branches. Here she took plant samples as evidence of what she had discovered, for otherwise few would believe her fantastic story. Nor would she blame them if they doubted, she hardly believed it herself as she stood amongst it. She longed to continue to explore but the discipline of the march yet remained and she had reached the limit of her exploration and needed to report back. But she knew she would return. When she did she would bring others with her, for she intended to not just return but to stay. She wondered if the missing Scout had come here and decided to stay. She hoped so and that she would find him at that future returning and learn of his discoveries. For now though, it was time for returning to make her report.
Perhaps too it was time for a child as well. When she returned....
Stepping Stones - II
Sharna was supervising her crew in preparation for torching the farm fields. She mused that it was fortunate that they had come upon the western plant life when she did so long ago. That was because it was of a genus similar to what had existed on the surface of the world during the time of the great mobile cities that chased the sun across the slow turning earth. They had adapted well to that time. The winds that blew from the dark into the light took their seeds into that life-giving warmth to grow quickly in the too soon waning light as the sun sunk below the horizon. There they stayed in the frozen dark until the sun rose again and brought a long searing heat that sucked any moisture from them and set their desiccated bodies to blaze. The ash that formed was rich and fertile in ways the long forgotten farmers from Man's dawn used to enrich their fields. When the sun began to set again the seeds from their descendants would blow onto that ash and grow to begin the cycle again. Since conditions in the Valley, with it's constant winds, were similar the plant life had initially thrived. But the world no longer turned. The seeds that blew could not return to the fertile lands their ancestors created for them. Had not mankind come upon the plants they would have marched out into the withering heat of the stark Valley and eventually died out completely. Sharna and the rest provided the missing link that closed the loop again. They set nets to catch the windblown seeds. They set fire to the depleted fields to afterward sow the captured seeds upon. It was a symbiotic relationship that benefited all.