Hello
I must apologize to those of you who have been kindly reading my serial story "Things to Come". I have not come out with a new chapter in quite some time. Sorry.
"Things to Come" is officially on hiatus. I have been concentrating my efforts on 1) the care of my young son and 2) the development of the comic strip, "Metropolis". (Side Note: CTV has signed on as a sponsor for the Richmond Children's Arts Festival. With any luck, you can see Metropolis hanging in the background of some CTV Vancouver news item.)
I do intend to continue, and yes complete, the story. I hope that when I do you will return and continue to enjoy reading it.
Until then, please enjoy the comic strip.
I thank you for your kind support.
Joao
Showing posts with label Things To Come. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Things To Come. Show all posts
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Things to Come - Part 14 - A Hymn For Liebowoh
Liebowoh was a Papa. A Papa was a lemming that had, despite the odds, lived to a very old age. If you became a Papa, you weren't one for very long. Old lemmings were easy prey for a predator. The Papas had two duties. The first was conducting the moonly tail counts. The moonly tails counts were far from accurate. They really didn't involve counting either.
Liebowoh made his way to the centre of the herdlet and asked: "Anyone missing?"
"I don't think so." someone replied.
The old lemming moved on.
So the moonly tail counts were far from accurate. Nor were they exhaustive. Some herdlets would see many moons before they were counted.
Being a Papa was position of respect. They could wander the herd as they wished; they were not required to stay with a herdlets. They would share stories with the young lemmings or gather with the other Papas to share the very same stories.
Liebowoh was a Papa of notoriety as he was also a Knoght. It was not unheard of, but very few Knoghts lived long enough to become Papas.
"The Knoghts sure are small and thin these days." Liebowoh often thought. Which was true, but not more so than any other member of the herd. Food was scarce. Every lemming was smaller and thinner these days.
Liebowoh missed being a Knoght. It offered him a release for his secret shame. Liebowoh liked to be alone. He had long ago stopped thinking himself a deviant. His weird desire only put himself at risk and didn't seem to affect the herd in any negative way.
He was able to keep his secret his whole life. He had a perfect pretence. As a Knoght, he offered to perform outward patrols by himself.
"Could be dangerous! No sense in all of us going. If I'm not back in a little while, count on a predator being close by." he would say.
This added to his reputation of being a brave and selfless Knoght. No one ever guessed that he did so solely to have time alone.
Liebowoh had not had the chance to go off since they made him a Papa. He volunteered to remain a Knoght, but the other Papas insisted.
"You've served your time, Liebowoh." they said. "It's time for you to take your place with us and let younger lemmings serve."
Liebowoh was at the herd rim the first time he saw Loganoh. He did not know his name but he knew about the young lemming that had been banished. Loganoh was walking outward. Liebowoh felt a pang of envy.
"Lucky son of a rat!" he thought.
Liebowoh sighed deeply and tried not to think about it. Someday soon, it won't matter anymore. The Great Run will begin and all of our troubles will be over.
As mentioned before, the Papas had two duties. The second was that the Papas were the secret keepers of the herd. They alone knew the truth of the Great Run... Or so they thought.
Liebowoh made his way to the centre of the herdlet and asked: "Anyone missing?"
"I don't think so." someone replied.
The old lemming moved on.
So the moonly tail counts were far from accurate. Nor were they exhaustive. Some herdlets would see many moons before they were counted.
Being a Papa was position of respect. They could wander the herd as they wished; they were not required to stay with a herdlets. They would share stories with the young lemmings or gather with the other Papas to share the very same stories.
Liebowoh was a Papa of notoriety as he was also a Knoght. It was not unheard of, but very few Knoghts lived long enough to become Papas.
"The Knoghts sure are small and thin these days." Liebowoh often thought. Which was true, but not more so than any other member of the herd. Food was scarce. Every lemming was smaller and thinner these days.
Liebowoh missed being a Knoght. It offered him a release for his secret shame. Liebowoh liked to be alone. He had long ago stopped thinking himself a deviant. His weird desire only put himself at risk and didn't seem to affect the herd in any negative way.
He was able to keep his secret his whole life. He had a perfect pretence. As a Knoght, he offered to perform outward patrols by himself.
"Could be dangerous! No sense in all of us going. If I'm not back in a little while, count on a predator being close by." he would say.
This added to his reputation of being a brave and selfless Knoght. No one ever guessed that he did so solely to have time alone.
Liebowoh had not had the chance to go off since they made him a Papa. He volunteered to remain a Knoght, but the other Papas insisted.
"You've served your time, Liebowoh." they said. "It's time for you to take your place with us and let younger lemmings serve."
Liebowoh was at the herd rim the first time he saw Loganoh. He did not know his name but he knew about the young lemming that had been banished. Loganoh was walking outward. Liebowoh felt a pang of envy.
"Lucky son of a rat!" he thought.
Liebowoh sighed deeply and tried not to think about it. Someday soon, it won't matter anymore. The Great Run will begin and all of our troubles will be over.
As mentioned before, the Papas had two duties. The second was that the Papas were the secret keepers of the herd. They alone knew the truth of the Great Run... Or so they thought.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Things to Come – Part 13 – Big Mother is Watching You
At first, Loganoh thought the voice was a dream. Except for the occasional Knoght with a gruff command, no one had spoken to him since he had been banished. He looked up and realized that a female was actually talking to him. Loganoh assumed the worst.
"I'm only on the herd rim. I'm allowed to be here."
"I know you are." she smiled at Loganoh. She was a very old female.
"I know you." he said. "You were at my trial."
"Yes, I was. Do you know my name?" she asked. Loganoh shook his head. "It's Dicrostonyxo."
"Dic... Dirco..."
"Yes. It is a very old name. Call me Nyxo. Come walk with me, Loganoh."
Loganoh was shocked to see Nyxo saunter outward. Mamas seldom strayed from the herd core let alone away from the herd. Loganoh scampered after her.
"Is this whelp troubling you, ma'am?" huffed a Knoght. A trio was just returning from an outward patrol.
"No, I'm fine. I'm just teaching this one the finer points of banishment. You can carry on." she said.
"We encountered no predators out this way. But I can't say that will remain the case, ma'am. We will escort you." The Knoght and his two counterparts took positions in front of the Mama.
Nyxo looked up into the air and then said, "There are no predators around. I won't need your escort. Continue your duties, Knoghts."
The Knoghts
stopped and exchanged concerned glances.
"Are you
deaf?" asked Nyxo, twitching her whiskers.
"No Ma'am." And the three Knoghts were gone.
Loganoh was puzzled. How could a lemming know whether there were predators or not? He looked up and all he could see was a gull. This Mama was powerful. And she knew things; things that Loganoh didn't understand. Could she possibly have the answers Loganoh sought? This would have to be handled delicately. Questioning Mamas was not polite. He had hoped that she would begin a conversation, but Nyxo did not speak for some time. They were well out of sight of the herd now. Loganoh was becoming discouraged. He decided to throw caution to the wind. He was already banished. How could it get any worse?
"Please, ma'am. Can you tell me what Herd Crime is?"
Nyxo hummed with amusement. "It's a crime against the Herd."
Loganoh had heard this too often. "I understand that part. I just don't know what it is I've done. I can't see my family or my herdlet anymore. No one has spoken to me for I don't know how many moons. And nobody can tell me what I did."
"That's not entirely true is it? You know what you did. You just don't know what you did wrong." She replied.
"The Great Run." gasped Loganoh. "Miriao thought I was talking about the Great Run. What is it? Why is it bad to talk about it?"
Nyxo looked up at the gull again. She looked disappointed and sighed.
"We don’t have enough time. There’s a predator close by. Let’s head back to the herd." she said as she turned herd-ward.
Loganoh's heart leapt and he looked up expecting to see an owl. He only saw another gull. Or was it the same gull?
"Do you like being alone, Loganoh?" Nyxo asked.
Loganoh did not know how to respond to the question. Admitting it would be tantamount to admitting you were a deviant. But lying to a Mama was always a bad choice. Could she already know? Was the question some kind of test?
Loganoh looked at Nyxo and saw that she was smiling at him.
"Yes. I like it too." she said. "But the herd doesn't like to see such behavior in a Mama, so I don't get to enjoy it as often as I'd like."
Loganoh couldn't believe his ears. Could it be that there were others like him?
"Maybe I should get banished too?" Nyxo laughed.
"No Ma'am." And the three Knoghts were gone.
Loganoh was puzzled. How could a lemming know whether there were predators or not? He looked up and all he could see was a gull. This Mama was powerful. And she knew things; things that Loganoh didn't understand. Could she possibly have the answers Loganoh sought? This would have to be handled delicately. Questioning Mamas was not polite. He had hoped that she would begin a conversation, but Nyxo did not speak for some time. They were well out of sight of the herd now. Loganoh was becoming discouraged. He decided to throw caution to the wind. He was already banished. How could it get any worse?
"Please, ma'am. Can you tell me what Herd Crime is?"
Nyxo hummed with amusement. "It's a crime against the Herd."
Loganoh had heard this too often. "I understand that part. I just don't know what it is I've done. I can't see my family or my herdlet anymore. No one has spoken to me for I don't know how many moons. And nobody can tell me what I did."
"That's not entirely true is it? You know what you did. You just don't know what you did wrong." She replied.
"The Great Run." gasped Loganoh. "Miriao thought I was talking about the Great Run. What is it? Why is it bad to talk about it?"
Nyxo looked up at the gull again. She looked disappointed and sighed.
"We don’t have enough time. There’s a predator close by. Let’s head back to the herd." she said as she turned herd-ward.
Loganoh's heart leapt and he looked up expecting to see an owl. He only saw another gull. Or was it the same gull?
"Do you like being alone, Loganoh?" Nyxo asked.
Loganoh did not know how to respond to the question. Admitting it would be tantamount to admitting you were a deviant. But lying to a Mama was always a bad choice. Could she already know? Was the question some kind of test?
Loganoh looked at Nyxo and saw that she was smiling at him.
"Yes. I like it too." she said. "But the herd doesn't like to see such behavior in a Mama, so I don't get to enjoy it as often as I'd like."
Loganoh couldn't believe his ears. Could it be that there were others like him?
"Maybe I should get banished too?" Nyxo laughed.
Monday, February 6, 2012
A Juicy Rationalization
I’m a big fan of “Watership
Down” by Richard Adams. I first saw it
on TV when I was a kid. Get it. Watch it.
All the voices are done by these really great old UK actors.
Then I discovered it was actually a book. I remember thinking: “How could a book about bunnies be that big?” This was not a children's story. At least, not entirely a children's story.
What I found most fascinating about the story was the society Adams created. You get a totally compelling bunny society and culture that, for the most part, does not defy what the average person observes of bunnies. Maybe bunnies really can’t count higher than five. Maybe some bunnies have the gift of precognition. How would we know different? Pretty cool thought, at any rate.
I was also really fond of "Silverwing" by Kenneth Oppel. The idea of echo chambers storing bat history was cool. If bats developed a "technology" that would totally be it. Wouldn't it? I mean, really, that was so cool. "Silverwing" takes Adams idea one step further; an animal society, culture and technology.
Since reading "Watership Down", I always wanted to write my own animal Sci-Fi story. Then I discovered lemmings. I don’t remember how or where. What I found most striking about them was the phenomenon that lemmings, for some debatably unknown reason, committed mass suicide by jumping off a cliff into the sea. Some thought it happened naturally because the lemming population reached critical mass. Others thought it was part of some primordial urge to migrate to the sunken continent of Atlantis. Atlantis! Really! I’m not foolin’. It seemed the perfect fodder for a story because it also fed my desire for apocalypse science-fiction (Blood Music, Childhood’s End, A Canticle for Leibowitz, etc.).
Then disaster struck my young writer’s mind. I learned that lemmings don’t actually commit mass suicide. It was a wild and ill-conceived notion. How could I write a story about lemmings based on a myth? Adams would turn over in his grave. So would Oppel if he was dead. I shelved the idea for a very long time.
Then I started to toy with the idea of basing my story on lemming myth and not lemming fact. I've read a lot of early pulp sci-fi. Some of which was written based on some pretty dubious science. Why not? I decided to go for it.
Recently I saw the movie "The Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole" (I should mention that I only saw the movie and didn't read the book.) In the story, owls were forging metal weapons and helmets. It was a pretty neat story, but forging metal weapons? It wasn’t like “Watership Down” or “Silverwing” at all. It wasn't owl technology. It was human technology used by owls. In my mind, the story crossed some line. Since then, I’ve felt less conflicted about writing a story based on lemming myths.
So that’s what my “Things to Come” is all about. It is an apocalypse story based on lemming myths we once thought were reality.
That’s my juicy rationalization for the year.
I hope you’re enjoying the story.
Then I discovered it was actually a book. I remember thinking: “How could a book about bunnies be that big?” This was not a children's story. At least, not entirely a children's story.
What I found most fascinating about the story was the society Adams created. You get a totally compelling bunny society and culture that, for the most part, does not defy what the average person observes of bunnies. Maybe bunnies really can’t count higher than five. Maybe some bunnies have the gift of precognition. How would we know different? Pretty cool thought, at any rate.
I was also really fond of "Silverwing" by Kenneth Oppel. The idea of echo chambers storing bat history was cool. If bats developed a "technology" that would totally be it. Wouldn't it? I mean, really, that was so cool. "Silverwing" takes Adams idea one step further; an animal society, culture and technology.
Since reading "Watership Down", I always wanted to write my own animal Sci-Fi story. Then I discovered lemmings. I don’t remember how or where. What I found most striking about them was the phenomenon that lemmings, for some debatably unknown reason, committed mass suicide by jumping off a cliff into the sea. Some thought it happened naturally because the lemming population reached critical mass. Others thought it was part of some primordial urge to migrate to the sunken continent of Atlantis. Atlantis! Really! I’m not foolin’. It seemed the perfect fodder for a story because it also fed my desire for apocalypse science-fiction (Blood Music, Childhood’s End, A Canticle for Leibowitz, etc.).
Then disaster struck my young writer’s mind. I learned that lemmings don’t actually commit mass suicide. It was a wild and ill-conceived notion. How could I write a story about lemmings based on a myth? Adams would turn over in his grave. So would Oppel if he was dead. I shelved the idea for a very long time.
Then I started to toy with the idea of basing my story on lemming myth and not lemming fact. I've read a lot of early pulp sci-fi. Some of which was written based on some pretty dubious science. Why not? I decided to go for it.
Recently I saw the movie "The Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole" (I should mention that I only saw the movie and didn't read the book.) In the story, owls were forging metal weapons and helmets. It was a pretty neat story, but forging metal weapons? It wasn’t like “Watership Down” or “Silverwing” at all. It wasn't owl technology. It was human technology used by owls. In my mind, the story crossed some line. Since then, I’ve felt less conflicted about writing a story based on lemming myths.
So that’s what my “Things to Come” is all about. It is an apocalypse story based on lemming myths we once thought were reality.
That’s my juicy rationalization for the year.
I hope you’re enjoying the story.
PS: I really love
saying the word bunnies.
Joao
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Things to Come - Part 12 - Perched upon a bust of Pallas
Arvico had not
seen her brother for many moons. Her
mother refused to speak of Loganoh. Many
lemmings in the herdlet refused to admit that he had ever existed. This did not prevent Arvico from reminding
them all on numerous occasions.
One day her mother relented. She explained that Loganoh had been banished. Arvico couldn't understand why this made her mother so sad. Loganoh was now allowed to be alone as much as he wanted. "That sort of thing would make Loganoh happy." she thought.
Since then Arvico ventured out regularly to search for Loganoh. Just because he wanted to be alone didn't mean he wouldn't want some company, she reasoned. Today was the first time she had found anyone.
"Hello." said Arvico to the gull. "I thought that was you."
The gull recognized Arvico and walked away.
"Who was that lemming I saw you with?" she asked, hurrying to the gull's side.
The gull froze in mid-step, balancing on one foot.
"Am... Am talking with no lemmings but you."
"Yes you were. I saw you just now." Arvico walked around the gull and examined his single-legged stance. "That's why I came over here. I saw you talking with a lemming and I thought it might be my brother. But then I started to think it wasn't you, because you don't seem to like lemmings. So why would you be talking to one? That's what I wondered. But then I caught your smell on the wind and I said 'That's him all right'. That's when I asked myself why you were talking to my brother? But I'm pretty sure it wasn't him, because he walked away and my brother doesn't walk away from me until after he's talked to me. How can you do that for so long?"
"Am doing something?" asked the gull, relieved that the subject had changed.
"That! Stand on one leg! I've seen birds do it before but never from up close like this." Arvico defied the gull's smell and made a closer examination. "I could try all day and I would never be able to do that."
The gull resumed walking. "Rat, being you finding your brother and being you leaving me."
"I'm not a rat. You can call me Arvico. That's my name. What's yours?" she asked.
The gull stopped in his tracks once again, but he paid close attention to stand on both feet. He tilted his head and squarely fixed his left eye on Arvico.
"Am never asked this before... Being lemmings named?" he asked.
"Of course. Isn't everyone?"
The gull became very irritated. "Am no! Am gull. Am not named! Being no gull named."
Gulls have a very individualistic society. They are solitary creatures. The only thing that will make gulls flock together is the presence of food. But even then there is no sense of community. The only words spoken between gulls are claims of ownership over food. Gulls never formed a system of names because there is never any need to address another gull.
"That's strange. How do you call your friends?"
The gull was clearly agitated now.
"Being gulls no friends! Being named... Bah. Being named useless! Am "me". Being all others "you". Being only "me". Being no "us". Being no friends. Being all gulls greedy. Being all gulls selfish. Being all gulls together but being all gulls alone. Am always alone. Am having no friends."
The gull started to walk away. He unfurled his wings in preparation for flight.
"Why are you so mad?" Arvico asked.
"Am leaving. Am wanting alone." huffed the gull.
"No you don't." said Arvico firmly. "I know what wanting to be alone looks like. My brother does it all the time. And you don't like him at all. I don't think you want to be alone."
"Feh!" chocked the gull. "Being you leaving, little ra... Am leaving, little lemming."
The gull broke into a run and flapped his wings. He rose into the air.
"Wait! Do you want a name? I could make one for you!"
Not far off, an old female lemming watched as the gull left Arvico. "She saw me, but not well enough to know me." she thought. She knew Arvico though. Loganoh's sister has come looking for him. She wondered how this might affect her plans for the banished lemming.
One day her mother relented. She explained that Loganoh had been banished. Arvico couldn't understand why this made her mother so sad. Loganoh was now allowed to be alone as much as he wanted. "That sort of thing would make Loganoh happy." she thought.
Since then Arvico ventured out regularly to search for Loganoh. Just because he wanted to be alone didn't mean he wouldn't want some company, she reasoned. Today was the first time she had found anyone.
"Hello." said Arvico to the gull. "I thought that was you."
The gull recognized Arvico and walked away.
"Who was that lemming I saw you with?" she asked, hurrying to the gull's side.
The gull froze in mid-step, balancing on one foot.
"Am... Am talking with no lemmings but you."
"Yes you were. I saw you just now." Arvico walked around the gull and examined his single-legged stance. "That's why I came over here. I saw you talking with a lemming and I thought it might be my brother. But then I started to think it wasn't you, because you don't seem to like lemmings. So why would you be talking to one? That's what I wondered. But then I caught your smell on the wind and I said 'That's him all right'. That's when I asked myself why you were talking to my brother? But I'm pretty sure it wasn't him, because he walked away and my brother doesn't walk away from me until after he's talked to me. How can you do that for so long?"
"Am doing something?" asked the gull, relieved that the subject had changed.
"That! Stand on one leg! I've seen birds do it before but never from up close like this." Arvico defied the gull's smell and made a closer examination. "I could try all day and I would never be able to do that."
The gull resumed walking. "Rat, being you finding your brother and being you leaving me."
"I'm not a rat. You can call me Arvico. That's my name. What's yours?" she asked.
The gull stopped in his tracks once again, but he paid close attention to stand on both feet. He tilted his head and squarely fixed his left eye on Arvico.
"Am never asked this before... Being lemmings named?" he asked.
"Of course. Isn't everyone?"
The gull became very irritated. "Am no! Am gull. Am not named! Being no gull named."
Gulls have a very individualistic society. They are solitary creatures. The only thing that will make gulls flock together is the presence of food. But even then there is no sense of community. The only words spoken between gulls are claims of ownership over food. Gulls never formed a system of names because there is never any need to address another gull.
"That's strange. How do you call your friends?"
The gull was clearly agitated now.
"Being gulls no friends! Being named... Bah. Being named useless! Am "me". Being all others "you". Being only "me". Being no "us". Being no friends. Being all gulls greedy. Being all gulls selfish. Being all gulls together but being all gulls alone. Am always alone. Am having no friends."
The gull started to walk away. He unfurled his wings in preparation for flight.
"Why are you so mad?" Arvico asked.
"Am leaving. Am wanting alone." huffed the gull.
"No you don't." said Arvico firmly. "I know what wanting to be alone looks like. My brother does it all the time. And you don't like him at all. I don't think you want to be alone."
"Feh!" chocked the gull. "Being you leaving, little ra... Am leaving, little lemming."
The gull broke into a run and flapped his wings. He rose into the air.
"Wait! Do you want a name? I could make one for you!"
Not far off, an old female lemming watched as the gull left Arvico. "She saw me, but not well enough to know me." she thought. She knew Arvico though. Loganoh's sister has come looking for him. She wondered how this might affect her plans for the banished lemming.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Things to Come – Part 11 – The Punishment for Herd Crime
Fransoh and Woundwoh were Knoghts with E Company. No one knew what the "E" originally represented. The founder of the band, and anyone he trusted with the information, had died long ago. Woundwoh believed the E stood for Excellent. As in: 1) E Company is an excellent company and 2) being in E Company means you are in excellent company. That is what he told anyone who asked.
They were on an out-ward patrol and the herd rim was no longer in sight. That’s why Fransoh was shocked, and a little delighted, to see a lone lemming heading herd-ward. It was Loganoh.
“Here’s a rare sight. A stray ready for bite!”
“At ease, Fransoh!” ordered Woundwoh. “Don’t you know who that is?” Woundwoh searched his memory. “I can’t remember his name, but he’s the one that’s been banished. He can roam out-ward when he likes.”
“Banished? What did he do?”
“Herd Crime.”
“What’s that?”
“Right. I keep forgetting how green you are? Herd Crime is... a crime against the herd.”
Fransoh had never heard of Herd Crime, and the explanation failed to enlighten, but he did not push the point to avoid further accusations of being green.
“Hey you!” yelled Fransoh. “Did you see any predators out there?”
Woundwoh sighed heavily.
“What?”
“If he had seen a predator, he wouldn't be here to ask about it.” explained Woundwoh
They continued out-ward. Loganoh passed in silence.
“Woundwoh… sir?”
“What is it?”
“I’m curious about a question...”
“Ask it, but keep your eyes open. We’re out here for a reason.”
“What does banishment mean exactly?” asked Fransoh.
“It means that the lemming is no longer allowed anywhere herd-ward passed the rim. But they don’t have to stay at the rim. They can wander out-ward as much or as often as they like.”
“Wow.” exclaimed Fransoh. “That’s bad. What happens if his herdlet goes herd-ward?”
Woundwoh shook his head. “The banished are not allowed near their herdlet. Even if the herdlet is on herd rim, they have to move along so that they are never with their herdlet again.” Woundwoh suddenly thought of a good example to cite: “Just like us.”
Fransoh stopped in his tracks. Confusion showed plainly on his face.
“What are you chewing on now?”
Fransoh never considered himself very bright. He grappled with his thoughts a moment, then attempted to convey them.
“So the banished can’t venture herd-ward. They can only stay at the rim.”
“Yes.”
“And they can’t join their herdlet anymore either, even if the herdlet is on the rim.”
“Right again.”
“And no lemming can leave the herd, unless they are banished. Then they can leave for as long as they like?”
“Plainly stated.” Woundwoh confirmed.
“Well, then I don’t understand?” Fransoh was completely exasperated.
“What? It sounds to me you understand banishment perfectly.”
“But how is banishment any different from being a Knoght?”
Woundwoh was flummoxed. How could anyone confuse the two concepts? “Explain yourself.”
“The day we became Knoghts was the last day we saw our herdlets. We’re not even allowed to visit them. We guard the rim. Except for the few in the herd core that guard the Parliament of Mamas, Knoghts never go herd-ward. And our patrols take us out-ward on a regular schedule!”
Woundwoh often thought that the younger generation of Knoghts lacked discipline. It takes a steady, clear mind to be a good Knoght. But you couldn't teach that to a young Knoght with a bite on the haunches.
“Knoghts protect the herd. The banished are criminals. The difference seems plain enough to me.” retorted Woundwoh confidently.
Fransoh stopped and turned to his officer. “I still don’t understand. We do exactly the same things as the banished. The only difference I see is in the name.”
“No. That’s not right. They… You don’t… It’s nothing like that! It’s not the same.”
Words failed Woundwoh. He bit Fransoh on the haunches. Fransoh yelped in shock.
“Do you know how long I’ve been a Knoght! Longer than you and longer than most! I thought you had a lot of promise young Fransoh, but now I’m not so sure.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I made a mistake.”
“I’ve never heard such insubordination.” growled Woundwoh.
“It won’t happen again, sir.”
“See it doesn’t!”
They finished the patrol in silence. Fransoh would never mention the subject again, though he would continue to think about it often: “The Knoghts and the banished don’t seem very different at all.”
Loganoh would reach the same conclusion later that same day.
They were on an out-ward patrol and the herd rim was no longer in sight. That’s why Fransoh was shocked, and a little delighted, to see a lone lemming heading herd-ward. It was Loganoh.
“Here’s a rare sight. A stray ready for bite!”
“At ease, Fransoh!” ordered Woundwoh. “Don’t you know who that is?” Woundwoh searched his memory. “I can’t remember his name, but he’s the one that’s been banished. He can roam out-ward when he likes.”
“Banished? What did he do?”
“Herd Crime.”
“What’s that?”
“Right. I keep forgetting how green you are? Herd Crime is... a crime against the herd.”
Fransoh had never heard of Herd Crime, and the explanation failed to enlighten, but he did not push the point to avoid further accusations of being green.
“Hey you!” yelled Fransoh. “Did you see any predators out there?”
Woundwoh sighed heavily.
“What?”
“If he had seen a predator, he wouldn't be here to ask about it.” explained Woundwoh
They continued out-ward. Loganoh passed in silence.
“Woundwoh… sir?”
“What is it?”
“I’m curious about a question...”
“Ask it, but keep your eyes open. We’re out here for a reason.”
“What does banishment mean exactly?” asked Fransoh.
“It means that the lemming is no longer allowed anywhere herd-ward passed the rim. But they don’t have to stay at the rim. They can wander out-ward as much or as often as they like.”
“Wow.” exclaimed Fransoh. “That’s bad. What happens if his herdlet goes herd-ward?”
Woundwoh shook his head. “The banished are not allowed near their herdlet. Even if the herdlet is on herd rim, they have to move along so that they are never with their herdlet again.” Woundwoh suddenly thought of a good example to cite: “Just like us.”
Fransoh stopped in his tracks. Confusion showed plainly on his face.
“What are you chewing on now?”
Fransoh never considered himself very bright. He grappled with his thoughts a moment, then attempted to convey them.
“So the banished can’t venture herd-ward. They can only stay at the rim.”
“Yes.”
“And they can’t join their herdlet anymore either, even if the herdlet is on the rim.”
“Right again.”
“And no lemming can leave the herd, unless they are banished. Then they can leave for as long as they like?”
“Plainly stated.” Woundwoh confirmed.
“Well, then I don’t understand?” Fransoh was completely exasperated.
“What? It sounds to me you understand banishment perfectly.”
“But how is banishment any different from being a Knoght?”
Woundwoh was flummoxed. How could anyone confuse the two concepts? “Explain yourself.”
“The day we became Knoghts was the last day we saw our herdlets. We’re not even allowed to visit them. We guard the rim. Except for the few in the herd core that guard the Parliament of Mamas, Knoghts never go herd-ward. And our patrols take us out-ward on a regular schedule!”
Woundwoh often thought that the younger generation of Knoghts lacked discipline. It takes a steady, clear mind to be a good Knoght. But you couldn't teach that to a young Knoght with a bite on the haunches.
“Knoghts protect the herd. The banished are criminals. The difference seems plain enough to me.” retorted Woundwoh confidently.
Fransoh stopped and turned to his officer. “I still don’t understand. We do exactly the same things as the banished. The only difference I see is in the name.”
“No. That’s not right. They… You don’t… It’s nothing like that! It’s not the same.”
Words failed Woundwoh. He bit Fransoh on the haunches. Fransoh yelped in shock.
“Do you know how long I’ve been a Knoght! Longer than you and longer than most! I thought you had a lot of promise young Fransoh, but now I’m not so sure.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I made a mistake.”
“I’ve never heard such insubordination.” growled Woundwoh.
“It won’t happen again, sir.”
“See it doesn’t!”
They finished the patrol in silence. Fransoh would never mention the subject again, though he would continue to think about it often: “The Knoghts and the banished don’t seem very different at all.”
Loganoh would reach the same conclusion later that same day.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Things to Come – Part 10 – The Trial of L.
The Parliament of Mamas huddled closely together to speak; as they always did. Occasionally they would, each in turn, raise a head to peer at Loganoh.
The sun had set in the time Loganoh had been waiting. It was impossible for him to hear the Mamas’ whispers. The droning of the herd numbed his ears. It gave an oddly quiet quality to the evening here in the herd core.
The safest part of the herd was always the herd core and that is why the Parliament of Mamas always met there. In the herd core, you were certain to hear of a predator before seeing it. At the herd rim, you didn't see or hear the predator until it was too late.
Two Knoghts flanked Loganoh. He recognized them as members of the Roughnecks.
"What's going on?" asked Loganoh.
"You're standing before the Parliament of Mamas." said the Knoght.
"I know that, but why?"
"I don't know. I thought you did."
"They didn't tell me anything."
"Well, what did you do?"
"Do? Do what? My herdlet Mama just brought me here. She didn't say anything. I didn't do anything."
"Well, you must have done something."
"Why's that?" Loganoh sneared.
"Because you're standing before the Parliament of Mamas."
Loganoh started to worry. He longed to see a friendly face. "Hey. Do you know Washoh. He's from my herdlet. He's in the Roughnecks."
"Not anymore." replied the Knoght.
"What?"
"Washoh was eaten in that last fox attack." The Knoght noticed Loganoh's disappointment. "He was a good Knoght. Very brave. He was always the first to head off the predators. Very brave indeed."
His mind drifted back to the day Washoh was dubbed a Knoght. Strange. That was the day Cricetida, Washoh’s mother, cried so bitterly. It wasn't long after that when she disappeared and Miriao became his herdlet mama. No one knew what became of Cricetida, but she was probably dead. There were not too many other options. A missing lemming was a dead lemming. It was probably better this way. If Cricetida cried when Washoh became a Knoght, her heart would have broken to hear he was now dead.
Three of the mamas stepped out of the group and toward Loganoh. Miriao was one of them. Muroidea, who the oldest mama known, was the second. The third was a mama Loganoh did not know by name.
"The Parliament of Mamas will now render a verdict." announced Muroidea.
"Verdict?" yelped Loganoh.
"In the trial of Loganoh of Mirao's herdlet..."
"Trial?" He shouted.
"The accused will remain silent.”
"But I haven't said anything at all yet!"
"Nor will you. This is a trial not a debate!"
“But I haven’t done…”
“Knoghts! Bite him!”
Loganoh nearly jumped his height when his saw the Knoght on his left charge him. He evaded the Knoght’s teeth. The Knoght that stood at his right, however, bit him squarely in the haunches.
“Yaa!” Loganoh squealed. He cowered low to the ground. Two more Knoghts approached and surrounded him. They waited for Muroidea’s next command. Her face was locked on Loganoh, tempting him to make another sound. He would have continued to protest had he not looked at the third mama. She gave Loganoh soft eyes. She blinked slowly and tilted her head. There was something in her look that made Loganoh think that things would be all right.
“In the trial of Loganoh of Mirao's herdlet, the accused has been found guilty of Herd Crime.” stated Muroidea.
Herd Crime, thought Loganoh. He had never heard the word before in his entire life.
The sun had set in the time Loganoh had been waiting. It was impossible for him to hear the Mamas’ whispers. The droning of the herd numbed his ears. It gave an oddly quiet quality to the evening here in the herd core.
The safest part of the herd was always the herd core and that is why the Parliament of Mamas always met there. In the herd core, you were certain to hear of a predator before seeing it. At the herd rim, you didn't see or hear the predator until it was too late.
Two Knoghts flanked Loganoh. He recognized them as members of the Roughnecks.
"What's going on?" asked Loganoh.
"You're standing before the Parliament of Mamas." said the Knoght.
"I know that, but why?"
"I don't know. I thought you did."
"They didn't tell me anything."
"Well, what did you do?"
"Do? Do what? My herdlet Mama just brought me here. She didn't say anything. I didn't do anything."
"Well, you must have done something."
"Why's that?" Loganoh sneared.
"Because you're standing before the Parliament of Mamas."
Loganoh started to worry. He longed to see a friendly face. "Hey. Do you know Washoh. He's from my herdlet. He's in the Roughnecks."
"Not anymore." replied the Knoght.
"What?"
"Washoh was eaten in that last fox attack." The Knoght noticed Loganoh's disappointment. "He was a good Knoght. Very brave. He was always the first to head off the predators. Very brave indeed."
His mind drifted back to the day Washoh was dubbed a Knoght. Strange. That was the day Cricetida, Washoh’s mother, cried so bitterly. It wasn't long after that when she disappeared and Miriao became his herdlet mama. No one knew what became of Cricetida, but she was probably dead. There were not too many other options. A missing lemming was a dead lemming. It was probably better this way. If Cricetida cried when Washoh became a Knoght, her heart would have broken to hear he was now dead.
Three of the mamas stepped out of the group and toward Loganoh. Miriao was one of them. Muroidea, who the oldest mama known, was the second. The third was a mama Loganoh did not know by name.
"The Parliament of Mamas will now render a verdict." announced Muroidea.
"Verdict?" yelped Loganoh.
"In the trial of Loganoh of Mirao's herdlet..."
"Trial?" He shouted.
"The accused will remain silent.”
"But I haven't said anything at all yet!"
"Nor will you. This is a trial not a debate!"
“But I haven’t done…”
“Knoghts! Bite him!”
Loganoh nearly jumped his height when his saw the Knoght on his left charge him. He evaded the Knoght’s teeth. The Knoght that stood at his right, however, bit him squarely in the haunches.
“Yaa!” Loganoh squealed. He cowered low to the ground. Two more Knoghts approached and surrounded him. They waited for Muroidea’s next command. Her face was locked on Loganoh, tempting him to make another sound. He would have continued to protest had he not looked at the third mama. She gave Loganoh soft eyes. She blinked slowly and tilted her head. There was something in her look that made Loganoh think that things would be all right.
“In the trial of Loganoh of Mirao's herdlet, the accused has been found guilty of Herd Crime.” stated Muroidea.
Herd Crime, thought Loganoh. He had never heard the word before in his entire life.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Things to Come – Part 9 – Reecoh’s Roughnecks
This is a story of Loganoh’s youth… which, in actuality, was only a few months ago.
The entire herdlet had gathered. The Parliament of Mamas had come for a special ceremony. They were here to bestow the title of Knoght to one of Loganoh’s herdlet. Washoh was chosen to join a band of Knoghts known as Reecoh’s Roughnecks. To be dubbed a Knoght was an honour, especially since the Roughnecks were a band of some renown.
The Roughnecks needed a new member as Reecoh had fallen prey to an owl. Truth be told; the band wasn’t named after the recently departed Reecoh. He just happened to share the same name. Currently, the captain of the Roughnecks was a lemming named Xandroh. The name of the band never changed with the name of a new captain. That would be far too confusing as captains changed in almost perfect step with each predator that the herd encountered. Xandroh was famous because he once survived an attack on the herd by a young fox. It was a claim that very few lemmings could make, and not for very long.
The Knoghts had a tough job. They were the herd rim guard. They rushed toward the foxes and stouts while other lemmings ran away. They also kept the herd safe from itself. Whatever that meant… But being a Knoght did have its rewards. Knoghts received more food. Even in times when food was scarce, the Knoghts were always fed if not fed well.
To be a Knoght was source of pride not only for the lemming but for the herdlet that mothered him. Loganoh looked around. His herdmates were filled with joy and awe, except one. Cricetida, Washoh’s mother, was stifling despondent tears. Everyone congratulated her, in a rushed manner, on her son’s achievement and politely ignored the weeping. This was truly perplexing to Loganoh because Cricetida was a herdlet Mama, and therefore, with the Parliament of Mamas. Why was she crying, thought Loganoh, didn’t the Mamas choose to dub Washoh? Was anyone else questioning this? It did not seem so.
The ceremony ended in the usual manner. Washoh was given food to have his first meal as a Knoght. Loganoh’s stomach jumped at the sight of the food. He hadn’t yet eaten that day. It was a meager amount of food, but it was all for Washoh, and that didn’t seem fair. Especially considering that Washoh was still a very healthy weight. But that was probably why he was chosen to become a Knoght. All the Knoghts were the biggest of the lemmings, and usually bullies to boot. Loganoh’s mood soured.
“But what good does all that food do them?” Loganoh whispered to his mother. He was no longer able to contain his discontent. “How does being fat make them better Knoghts? It certainly doesn’t make them faster.”
His mother tried to hush him. He didn’t want to make a scene at the ceremony, but the situation seemed cruel. So many lemmings were going without, but not the Knoghts. Never the Knoghts!
“No.” he resisted. “How does fattening the rim guard serve to protect the rest of the herd?”
“Enough Loganoh!” His mother snapped at his ears. “How many times would you have been eaten if the Knoghts weren’t here to fend off the claws, beaks and teeth? The things you say! Did I raise you to be so rude? What if someone had heard you?” And with that she marched Loganoh away from the celebration.
Loganoh didn’t mind. He was in no mood to watch Washoh eat.
No one noticed Loganoh leave. No one noticed his outburst, except Cricetida. No one noticed that she had started to cry more bitterly.
The entire herdlet had gathered. The Parliament of Mamas had come for a special ceremony. They were here to bestow the title of Knoght to one of Loganoh’s herdlet. Washoh was chosen to join a band of Knoghts known as Reecoh’s Roughnecks. To be dubbed a Knoght was an honour, especially since the Roughnecks were a band of some renown.
The Roughnecks needed a new member as Reecoh had fallen prey to an owl. Truth be told; the band wasn’t named after the recently departed Reecoh. He just happened to share the same name. Currently, the captain of the Roughnecks was a lemming named Xandroh. The name of the band never changed with the name of a new captain. That would be far too confusing as captains changed in almost perfect step with each predator that the herd encountered. Xandroh was famous because he once survived an attack on the herd by a young fox. It was a claim that very few lemmings could make, and not for very long.
The Knoghts had a tough job. They were the herd rim guard. They rushed toward the foxes and stouts while other lemmings ran away. They also kept the herd safe from itself. Whatever that meant… But being a Knoght did have its rewards. Knoghts received more food. Even in times when food was scarce, the Knoghts were always fed if not fed well.
To be a Knoght was source of pride not only for the lemming but for the herdlet that mothered him. Loganoh looked around. His herdmates were filled with joy and awe, except one. Cricetida, Washoh’s mother, was stifling despondent tears. Everyone congratulated her, in a rushed manner, on her son’s achievement and politely ignored the weeping. This was truly perplexing to Loganoh because Cricetida was a herdlet Mama, and therefore, with the Parliament of Mamas. Why was she crying, thought Loganoh, didn’t the Mamas choose to dub Washoh? Was anyone else questioning this? It did not seem so.
The ceremony ended in the usual manner. Washoh was given food to have his first meal as a Knoght. Loganoh’s stomach jumped at the sight of the food. He hadn’t yet eaten that day. It was a meager amount of food, but it was all for Washoh, and that didn’t seem fair. Especially considering that Washoh was still a very healthy weight. But that was probably why he was chosen to become a Knoght. All the Knoghts were the biggest of the lemmings, and usually bullies to boot. Loganoh’s mood soured.
“But what good does all that food do them?” Loganoh whispered to his mother. He was no longer able to contain his discontent. “How does being fat make them better Knoghts? It certainly doesn’t make them faster.”
His mother tried to hush him. He didn’t want to make a scene at the ceremony, but the situation seemed cruel. So many lemmings were going without, but not the Knoghts. Never the Knoghts!
“No.” he resisted. “How does fattening the rim guard serve to protect the rest of the herd?”
“Enough Loganoh!” His mother snapped at his ears. “How many times would you have been eaten if the Knoghts weren’t here to fend off the claws, beaks and teeth? The things you say! Did I raise you to be so rude? What if someone had heard you?” And with that she marched Loganoh away from the celebration.
Loganoh didn’t mind. He was in no mood to watch Washoh eat.
No one noticed Loganoh leave. No one noticed his outburst, except Cricetida. No one noticed that she had started to cry more bitterly.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Things to Come – Part 8 – The Furious Mr. Fox
Loganoh suddenly realized that Arvico was no longer at his haunches. He could no longer tell if he was running outward or herd-ward. Lemmings were running wildly in all directions. But he kept running, despite his overwhelming fear that he might be heading straight toward another fox.
Arvico, however, knew exactly where a fox was. She was so close to the fox that it seemed to fill the entire horizon. A giant paw smacked the earth in front of her. The fox was playing with the lemmings. It would grab a lemming in its tooth-full mouth and toss it into the air. Some of these lemmings survived and continued to run dazed, confused and possibly bleeding. Other more unfortunate lemmings would die instantly in the fox’s mouth as it shook them furiously. It was one of the latter that landed almost on top of Arvico.
The poor lemming; Arvico didn’t know him. That was not uncommon in a herd of hundreds. The bloody and broken body of the lemming was nearly segmented by the fox’s teeth. She looked up at the fox. It pranced about, almost playfully, as it continued to kill and main lemmings.
Suddenly, a flurry of grey and white feathers appeared, followed by a horrible smell. A gull landed nearly on top of the fox’s head. The fox leapt backwards startled by the smelly bird’s noisy arrival.
“Being you eating me! Being you eating me!” screeched the gull.
The fox bobbed its head and paced a half circle around the gull. It tried to approach the fox, but the bird’s short legs could not match the fox’s for speed on the ground. The gull continued to scream with its wings spread and raised. In light of the strange behaviour, the fox decided to err on the side of caution and walked off.
“Ech! Feh! Being you doing what? Being you going?” The gull seemed shocked and confused. “Being you coward! Being you not fox smart! Ech! Being you rabbit scared! Being you fish stupid! Feh! Feh!”
Arvico instantly recognized the gull.
“Hey! I know you. I remember your smell. How did you do that? How did you scare off the fox? Maybe it was your smell? Thanks for getting rid of the fox. I’ve met other gulls and birds, not many though. They don’t smell bad like you. Have you done that to foxes before? You’d think that smell would come off with all the time you gulls spend in the water.” she said.
The gull stared at Arvico motionless. It should be understood that gulls are seldom motionless; it is against their nature. So the fact that Arvico was able to capture the bird’s concentration thusly should speak to its extraordinary state of bitterness and confusion.
“Am liking you not, little rat.” it hissed.
“Well that’s just rude.” she replied.
The gull walked away shaking its head. It was so vexed, he forgot that he knew how to fly.
Things had settled with Loganoh as well. He stopped running, though many others had not. He had not seen a fox. Had they gone?
“Loganoh!”
He turned startled, but quickly realized there was nothing to fear. A fox wouldn’t call his name. It was Miriao, his Herdlet Mama. She came running to him.
“Loganoh. Come speak with me.” she said.
“Yes Ma’am”
“I want you to come with me. Do you know why?”
Loganoh shook his head.
“Speak when you’re spoken to, pup.”
“No, Ma’am. I don’t know why.” He blurted out the words louder than intended.
“We need to talk about that conversation you had with your sister. About the Great Run. Follow me. Keep close.”
“But we weren’t talking about that, Ma’am. I hardly know anything about those rumors.” He said defensively.
“That may be the case,” said Miriao. “But the Parliament of Mamas will want to hear what you do know.”
Arvico, however, knew exactly where a fox was. She was so close to the fox that it seemed to fill the entire horizon. A giant paw smacked the earth in front of her. The fox was playing with the lemmings. It would grab a lemming in its tooth-full mouth and toss it into the air. Some of these lemmings survived and continued to run dazed, confused and possibly bleeding. Other more unfortunate lemmings would die instantly in the fox’s mouth as it shook them furiously. It was one of the latter that landed almost on top of Arvico.
The poor lemming; Arvico didn’t know him. That was not uncommon in a herd of hundreds. The bloody and broken body of the lemming was nearly segmented by the fox’s teeth. She looked up at the fox. It pranced about, almost playfully, as it continued to kill and main lemmings.
Suddenly, a flurry of grey and white feathers appeared, followed by a horrible smell. A gull landed nearly on top of the fox’s head. The fox leapt backwards startled by the smelly bird’s noisy arrival.
“Being you eating me! Being you eating me!” screeched the gull.
The fox bobbed its head and paced a half circle around the gull. It tried to approach the fox, but the bird’s short legs could not match the fox’s for speed on the ground. The gull continued to scream with its wings spread and raised. In light of the strange behaviour, the fox decided to err on the side of caution and walked off.
“Ech! Feh! Being you doing what? Being you going?” The gull seemed shocked and confused. “Being you coward! Being you not fox smart! Ech! Being you rabbit scared! Being you fish stupid! Feh! Feh!”
Arvico instantly recognized the gull.
“Hey! I know you. I remember your smell. How did you do that? How did you scare off the fox? Maybe it was your smell? Thanks for getting rid of the fox. I’ve met other gulls and birds, not many though. They don’t smell bad like you. Have you done that to foxes before? You’d think that smell would come off with all the time you gulls spend in the water.” she said.
The gull stared at Arvico motionless. It should be understood that gulls are seldom motionless; it is against their nature. So the fact that Arvico was able to capture the bird’s concentration thusly should speak to its extraordinary state of bitterness and confusion.
“Am liking you not, little rat.” it hissed.
“Well that’s just rude.” she replied.
The gull walked away shaking its head. It was so vexed, he forgot that he knew how to fly.
Things had settled with Loganoh as well. He stopped running, though many others had not. He had not seen a fox. Had they gone?
“Loganoh!”
He turned startled, but quickly realized there was nothing to fear. A fox wouldn’t call his name. It was Miriao, his Herdlet Mama. She came running to him.
“Loganoh. Come speak with me.” she said.
“Yes Ma’am”
“I want you to come with me. Do you know why?”
Loganoh shook his head.
“Speak when you’re spoken to, pup.”
“No, Ma’am. I don’t know why.” He blurted out the words louder than intended.
“We need to talk about that conversation you had with your sister. About the Great Run. Follow me. Keep close.”
“But we weren’t talking about that, Ma’am. I hardly know anything about those rumors.” He said defensively.
“That may be the case,” said Miriao. “But the Parliament of Mamas will want to hear what you do know.”
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Things to Come – Part 7 – Around the World in 365 Days - (Happy Birthday Sue!)
Loganoh looked at the sun and noted its position. Then he remembered the position of the moon and the Bright Star last night. He looked at his little sister.
“Arvico. You were born today.”
She huffed. “No, I wasn’t. What a silly thing to say. I was born a long time ago.”
“No. That’s not what I mean.” Loganoh twitched his whiskers and tried to formulate his thoughts. The problem is that Lemmings have no concept of a “year”. When your life span is barely 20 months, you don’t bother counting years.
“What I mean is that you were born on a day like this one, many days ago.”
Arvico squinted at him. “You mean, a sunny day?”
“No, not a sunny day. It might have been a sunny day, that’s not what I’m trying to say.” Loganoh sighed.
“Why do you always breathe like that when you talk to me?” asked Arvico. “It’s rude.”
“It’s just something I noticed. When you look at the sun and moon every day, you realize that their positions repeat. This means that the days repeat. I’ve tried to count them, but the number gets to too high and I forget. It’s hard to count days when they only happen one at a time.”
Arvico giggled. “You count days? That’d be like… counting the herd!”
Loganoh had thought exactly that and pondered it often. “Kind of, but not really. Lemmings are born and die every day, so the number keeps changing. But with days, I suspect that their number is always the same. I think.”
“Our…” Arvico’s hold on the concept of tenuous. “Our days are numbered?”
“What are you two talking about?” Loganoh and Arvico looked over and saw Miriao. She was their Herdlet Mama. “What do you know about the Great Run?”
Loganoh froze. The Great Run had always been a herd rumor, and not a very serious one at that. But ever since his starvation induced nightmare, the thought of the Great Run terrified Loganoh.
“We weren’t talking about that, Ma’am.” Arvico said. “Loganoh was just trying to tell me that there are only so many days and that they repeat. Isn’t that fanciful, Ma’am?”
Miriao sighed with relief and then smiled at the young lemmings. “Well now, do you know that they don’t?”
“But it can’t be, Ma’am. It’s silliness. Just like the talk of the Great Run. That’s not a real thing either. Is it, Ma’am?”
Miriao turned abruptly. “You pups go and play.”
Loganoh sensed something in Miriao’s dismissal. “Ma’am? May I speak to you, please?”
“Fox!” the scream pierced the herd. The cry was made by a Knoght; one of the herd rim guards. Other shouts of “Fox” were passed along through the wide herd. When a Knoght shouts a warning, you had best start running in the other direction. Arvico and Loganoh bolted off together. They were still both fairly fit despite the scarcity of food. Running past slower and weaker lemming was like trying to get through maze. Then another shout from a Knoght was heard: “Foxes”! It was every lemming’s duty to pass along the warnings from the herd rim, but panic was now spreading faster.
“Loganoh, what do we do?” Arvico asked anxiously.
“Just keep running! Don’t look back! Stay at my haunches and just keeping running!”
“Arvico. You were born today.”
She huffed. “No, I wasn’t. What a silly thing to say. I was born a long time ago.”
“No. That’s not what I mean.” Loganoh twitched his whiskers and tried to formulate his thoughts. The problem is that Lemmings have no concept of a “year”. When your life span is barely 20 months, you don’t bother counting years.
“What I mean is that you were born on a day like this one, many days ago.”
Arvico squinted at him. “You mean, a sunny day?”
“No, not a sunny day. It might have been a sunny day, that’s not what I’m trying to say.” Loganoh sighed.
“Why do you always breathe like that when you talk to me?” asked Arvico. “It’s rude.”
“It’s just something I noticed. When you look at the sun and moon every day, you realize that their positions repeat. This means that the days repeat. I’ve tried to count them, but the number gets to too high and I forget. It’s hard to count days when they only happen one at a time.”
Arvico giggled. “You count days? That’d be like… counting the herd!”
Loganoh had thought exactly that and pondered it often. “Kind of, but not really. Lemmings are born and die every day, so the number keeps changing. But with days, I suspect that their number is always the same. I think.”
“Our…” Arvico’s hold on the concept of tenuous. “Our days are numbered?”
“What are you two talking about?” Loganoh and Arvico looked over and saw Miriao. She was their Herdlet Mama. “What do you know about the Great Run?”
Loganoh froze. The Great Run had always been a herd rumor, and not a very serious one at that. But ever since his starvation induced nightmare, the thought of the Great Run terrified Loganoh.
“We weren’t talking about that, Ma’am.” Arvico said. “Loganoh was just trying to tell me that there are only so many days and that they repeat. Isn’t that fanciful, Ma’am?”
Miriao sighed with relief and then smiled at the young lemmings. “Well now, do you know that they don’t?”
“But it can’t be, Ma’am. It’s silliness. Just like the talk of the Great Run. That’s not a real thing either. Is it, Ma’am?”
Miriao turned abruptly. “You pups go and play.”
Loganoh sensed something in Miriao’s dismissal. “Ma’am? May I speak to you, please?”
“Fox!” the scream pierced the herd. The cry was made by a Knoght; one of the herd rim guards. Other shouts of “Fox” were passed along through the wide herd. When a Knoght shouts a warning, you had best start running in the other direction. Arvico and Loganoh bolted off together. They were still both fairly fit despite the scarcity of food. Running past slower and weaker lemming was like trying to get through maze. Then another shout from a Knoght was heard: “Foxes”! It was every lemming’s duty to pass along the warnings from the herd rim, but panic was now spreading faster.
“Loganoh, what do we do?” Arvico asked anxiously.
“Just keep running! Don’t look back! Stay at my haunches and just keeping running!”
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Things to Come – Part 6 - A Midsummer Day's Nightmare
Loganoh had not eaten in days. As a result, he spent most of his time sleeping. Today he decided to leave the safety of herdlet and venture back to his favourite spot at the cliffs. This would be the first time since the day he saw the Hwicks throwing lemmings into the ocean.
He hadn’t told anyone about that day. Who would believe him? Why would the Hwicks do it? What purpose would it serve? Why would a lemming watch such a thing? This last question was the one he feared being asked the most. No sane lemming would do such a thing. A sane lemming’s first instinct would be to run away from danger, not to observe it. What kind of a lemming would watch his herdmates be tossed into the sea by those lumbering two-legged Hwicks?
“They’d call me a deviant. They’d be right.” He turned his head side to side to see if anyone heard him. No one was there of course. Loganoh was alone. Lately he feared that he was indeed some sort of deviant. To his mind, his fondness for being alone and his ability to watch gruesome death were proof of it.
Despite his troubled thoughts, the exertion of the walk proved to be too much and Loganoh fell asleep almost instantly upon arriving at the cliffs.
He had nightmare.
It was dark. He could hear a rolling sound, deep like thunder, but much closer. He realized that he was moving. The source of the sound was forcing him forward. The darkness was actually the crush of lemmings all around him. There were so many of them and all running in the same direction. Plainly, it was not just his herdlet but the entire herd. What could make the entire herd run so? He could not see past the lemmings that surrounded him. Where could they possibly be heading?
“What’s going on?” he yelled to the lemming next to him. “What happened?”
The other lemming moved his mouth and made sounds, but he could not hear the words over the hundreds of running lemming feet. Loganoh noticed the expression on the lemmings face. The mouth was smiling, but the eyes were empty. The face scared Loganoh. He noticed that the other lemmings around him all shared the same euphoric yet vacuous expression.
The run had brought them to a crest of a hill and for the first time Loganoh could see what lay before them. He was right; it was the entire herd. They covered the earth in front of him. He looked ahead and saw that they were heading for the cliffs. Loganoh choked on his breath as he saw the first lemmings run right off the edge of the cliff without any hesitation.
Loganoh’s legs gave out but the throng kept moving him forward. He tried to dig his paws into the ground but he ended up being pushed into a roll by the other lemmings. He tried desperately to turn around, hoping to climb over the lemmings behind him. It was no use. He couldn’t do anything to slow his pace let alone stop.
He tried to yell a warning, but he couldn’t hear his own voice. All he could hear were the hundreds of lemming paws running on the ground and the growing sound of the sea. Suddenly the ground beneath his feet disappeared. He looked down at his paws and all he could see were lemmings in free fall and the sea far below.
He hadn’t told anyone about that day. Who would believe him? Why would the Hwicks do it? What purpose would it serve? Why would a lemming watch such a thing? This last question was the one he feared being asked the most. No sane lemming would do such a thing. A sane lemming’s first instinct would be to run away from danger, not to observe it. What kind of a lemming would watch his herdmates be tossed into the sea by those lumbering two-legged Hwicks?
“They’d call me a deviant. They’d be right.” He turned his head side to side to see if anyone heard him. No one was there of course. Loganoh was alone. Lately he feared that he was indeed some sort of deviant. To his mind, his fondness for being alone and his ability to watch gruesome death were proof of it.
Despite his troubled thoughts, the exertion of the walk proved to be too much and Loganoh fell asleep almost instantly upon arriving at the cliffs.
He had nightmare.
It was dark. He could hear a rolling sound, deep like thunder, but much closer. He realized that he was moving. The source of the sound was forcing him forward. The darkness was actually the crush of lemmings all around him. There were so many of them and all running in the same direction. Plainly, it was not just his herdlet but the entire herd. What could make the entire herd run so? He could not see past the lemmings that surrounded him. Where could they possibly be heading?
“What’s going on?” he yelled to the lemming next to him. “What happened?”
The other lemming moved his mouth and made sounds, but he could not hear the words over the hundreds of running lemming feet. Loganoh noticed the expression on the lemmings face. The mouth was smiling, but the eyes were empty. The face scared Loganoh. He noticed that the other lemmings around him all shared the same euphoric yet vacuous expression.
The run had brought them to a crest of a hill and for the first time Loganoh could see what lay before them. He was right; it was the entire herd. They covered the earth in front of him. He looked ahead and saw that they were heading for the cliffs. Loganoh choked on his breath as he saw the first lemmings run right off the edge of the cliff without any hesitation.
Loganoh’s legs gave out but the throng kept moving him forward. He tried to dig his paws into the ground but he ended up being pushed into a roll by the other lemmings. He tried desperately to turn around, hoping to climb over the lemmings behind him. It was no use. He couldn’t do anything to slow his pace let alone stop.
He tried to yell a warning, but he couldn’t hear his own voice. All he could hear were the hundreds of lemming paws running on the ground and the growing sound of the sea. Suddenly the ground beneath his feet disappeared. He looked down at his paws and all he could see were lemmings in free fall and the sea far below.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Things to Come – Part 5 – Apocalypse for One
It wasn’t going at all well.
Arvico had decided to take her brother Loganoh’s advice and experience being alone all by herself. This struck her as an absolutely ludicrous thing to do, but she had an adventurous spirit and needed little prompting to try anything at least once. She had only been alone long enough to stray out of sight from the herd and all she had to show for it was a nauseous feeling.
“This is utterly awful.” She thought and wondered how Loganoh could stand it. But she persisted and soon enough she found something to take her mind off her uneasy stomach.
“What is that horrible smell?” Arvico was not one to let her curiosity go unanswered, so she followed the smell despite the fact that it got worse.
She discovered the source. It was a gull. It lay motionless on the ground with one of its wings up in an awkward position. The gull smelled almost like it was dead… but not quite. Arvico approached the gull.
“Being you rat?” said the gull in its thick gull accent. Until it had spoken Arvico had trouble discerning where in the pile of feathers the head was located.
“No.” said Arvico.
“Being you eating me?” asked the gull. Its voice was very frail.
“Ew!” thought Arvico. “No.” she said.
“Being you wanting what?” moaned the gull.
“Are you alright?” Arvico asked.
“Being you eating me not, then being you leaving. Am dying and am wanting dying in quiet and peace. Being you go!” snapped the gull.
“You smell bad, but I don’t think you’re dying. What are you doing?” She rounded the gull to look into his face.
The gull leapt to its feet in a flurry of feathers, dust and stink. Arvico winced and the gust of foul air.
“Being you very rude! Being you bothering why? Being you keeping away predators. Foxes, rats, owls, stoats, skua! Being you here, being they not!” said the gull, his energy and posture greatly improved.
“You should be thankful I found you first. Any of those things might have eaten you alive!”
“Am wanting that! Being you stupid!” The gull heaved his chest.
Arvico paused a moment wondering if she had heard the gull correctly. “But that’s crazy. Why would you want to die? You’re crazy.” She concluded and approached the gull.
The gull hopped backwards, confounded by Arvico’s fearlessness.
“Being you minding matters your own!” The gull stammered.
“And you talk funny too.”
The gull was truly insulted now. “Bah! Ech! Cho! Ga!” Frustration choked the bird.
“I don’t think those were even words.” Said Arvico. “Not even bird words!”
The gull seethed silently and stared at the bold little female lemming. Instead of saying anything further the gull flapped its wings and flew away, leaving Arvico with a fresh gust of his terrible smell. Only after she had recovered, did she realize that she was alone again.
Arvico had decided to take her brother Loganoh’s advice and experience being alone all by herself. This struck her as an absolutely ludicrous thing to do, but she had an adventurous spirit and needed little prompting to try anything at least once. She had only been alone long enough to stray out of sight from the herd and all she had to show for it was a nauseous feeling.
“This is utterly awful.” She thought and wondered how Loganoh could stand it. But she persisted and soon enough she found something to take her mind off her uneasy stomach.
“What is that horrible smell?” Arvico was not one to let her curiosity go unanswered, so she followed the smell despite the fact that it got worse.
She discovered the source. It was a gull. It lay motionless on the ground with one of its wings up in an awkward position. The gull smelled almost like it was dead… but not quite. Arvico approached the gull.
“Being you rat?” said the gull in its thick gull accent. Until it had spoken Arvico had trouble discerning where in the pile of feathers the head was located.
“No.” said Arvico.
“Being you eating me?” asked the gull. Its voice was very frail.
“Ew!” thought Arvico. “No.” she said.
“Being you wanting what?” moaned the gull.
“Are you alright?” Arvico asked.
“Being you eating me not, then being you leaving. Am dying and am wanting dying in quiet and peace. Being you go!” snapped the gull.
“You smell bad, but I don’t think you’re dying. What are you doing?” She rounded the gull to look into his face.
The gull leapt to its feet in a flurry of feathers, dust and stink. Arvico winced and the gust of foul air.
“Being you very rude! Being you bothering why? Being you keeping away predators. Foxes, rats, owls, stoats, skua! Being you here, being they not!” said the gull, his energy and posture greatly improved.
“You should be thankful I found you first. Any of those things might have eaten you alive!”
“Am wanting that! Being you stupid!” The gull heaved his chest.
Arvico paused a moment wondering if she had heard the gull correctly. “But that’s crazy. Why would you want to die? You’re crazy.” She concluded and approached the gull.
The gull hopped backwards, confounded by Arvico’s fearlessness.
“Being you minding matters your own!” The gull stammered.
“And you talk funny too.”
The gull was truly insulted now. “Bah! Ech! Cho! Ga!” Frustration choked the bird.
“I don’t think those were even words.” Said Arvico. “Not even bird words!”
The gull seethed silently and stared at the bold little female lemming. Instead of saying anything further the gull flapped its wings and flew away, leaving Arvico with a fresh gust of his terrible smell. Only after she had recovered, did she realize that she was alone again.
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