Stone Of Matter

by B L Barkey

  The habitats on the second basement floor were strictly mammalian. All along the roof were light shafts connected to a system of mirrors that directed sunlight from the surface down into the room. This provided plenty of heat for all the animals, and also for the rest of the house as it rose up through the floors.

  Strategic placement of the mirrors scattered light throughout the entire basement, in addition to warmer lights installed on the ceiling. These lights produced ultraviolet rays that simulated the Sun, recreating the wilderness. This heat and sunshine was essential, since mammals were significantly happier in sunlight.

  To the left was another water system, pulling water from an aquifer deep below to keep the tank full. High walls again kept the creatures at bay. Several river otters came bouncing through the water then, perpetually making a game of escaping.

  To the right were open pens, where Bastion kept his livestock for resources. Among the livestock were several egg-laying chickens, two milk-producing cows, cotton-growing sheep, and fleece-sporting alpaca. These creatures provided most of the stink that lifted up into the ground floor.

  Waste for the animals was quickly eliminated with automatic cleaning systems built into the walls, which passed the waste through containers for recycling of nutrients and energy, before disposing of the final waste for nourishing soils in the Gardens.

  All throughout both basement floors traveled countless variations of well-behaved cats and dogs. Each steered clear of the larger animals, while hiding in easily accessible crevices. It seemed impossible that as many as thirty of these creatures could roam the basement floors without trouble.

  Yet somehow, they managed. Not only that, but their roaming brought entertainment to the animals confined to habitats, where it seemed even the coldest creatures enjoyed friendly visits.

  Rarely did the cats or dogs cause mischief, which spoke more of Bastion than themselves. Bastion had a way with animals. Within his care, animals of all species seemed to want to behave. As it had to be, lest they break free in stampedeous chaos.

  Even smaller animals were isolated from the world. Ferrets, hedgehogs, and sugar-gliders alike sacked out in their pouches until the moon rose again. The warm-blooded animals were much more relatable to Ammon. They produced warmth in body and intelligence that calmed any weary soul. These were all amazing animals, cared for and loved by their swift steward.

  In addition to caring for the animals, there was another artform at play. All of the different pumps, water filters, food sources, and light fixtures required enormous amounts of energy. It seemed to Ammon that it would be impossible to acquire that energy every day.

  By implementing feats of both ancient and modern engineering, he had integrated his own powerhouse. The Leviticum had helped him at the start, though at this point, Bastion had created his own devices, which often proved much more efficient.

  It had all expanded rapidly over the years. Ammon could remember when these two floors were actually one small basement room, with two small tanks holding a turtle and some hermit crabs. Bastion had loved caring for animals ever since he was young. His father was out traveling the world, caring for other animals much larger than his little hermit crabs. Caring for the animals seemed to create a bond between him and his father.

  It also kept him occupied, distracting his mind from the negative thoughts of abandonment and fear that often plagued him. The Leviticum recognized his talents and adversities early on. They had aided in the excavation for the Vivarium, while also replacing his roof with their best solar panels, along with a generator that stored excess energy. They had even given the Vivarium its name.

  Needless to say, Bastion had more than enough energy to care for the creatures. He then returned the favor, taking his mechanical and bestial experiences back to the ARC for renovations. The arrangement worked well for all. It was one of those rare instances where one and one made three. All won, and then some.

  “Look,” said Bastion, pointing towards the black and white bear in the corner. Surrounding the bear was a forest of tall green shafts, ribbed every foot with pale rings. Surrounding the plants was a thick wall crafted from the trunks of many thick trees.

  A window peered into the habitat, though this bear seemed a gentle giant.

  “How is Panda doing?” asked Ammon, not sure what the excitement was about.

  Bastion’s father had visited several months back, for the first time in over seven years. He stayed for one night, just long enough to drop off Panda and hug his son. Another couple of months after this, the bear had shown signs of pregnancy. And as Ammon looked now, he realized why Bastion was wearing a smug grin.

  Lying before him was the result of the pregnancy. Two little bear cubs lied within their mother’s lap, their eyes still closed to the world. They smelled like freshly baked bread.

  “When did she have them?!” Ammon squealed. “And why the freak didn’t you tell me!”

  Bastion laughed, “Because I wanted to see you freak out! And let me say, you are not disappointing.”

  Ammon had run up to the gate and was already inside, crouched low whilst maintaining a safe distance from the mother. He wasn’t sure how it would react with him so close.

  “You’re safe as long as she can feel you are relaxed. So maybe quit sweating so much.”

  This was a joke. Bastion knew how hot it was downstairs.

  “Bastion, how cool man! Did you see much of the actual birth?”

  “Not really,” Bastion said. “I came down for the last hour or so on Twosday. The first was already halfway out. I have pictures on a glisc if you’d like to see…”

  “No thanks,” Ammon said with a laugh. “I’d rather not.”

  Bastion smiled. “Thought not. Anyways, believe me. It was difficult keeping the secret from you. And yet, that look on your face makes it all worth it!” He laughed aloud once more.

  Ammon approached Panda. Then, slow and gentle, he caressed the tiny foot of the cub. “Has she named them yet?” Ammon asked sarcastically. Despite this, Bastion answered with all the seriousness in the world.

  “She’s stuck between her two favorite names. One is Koala, and the other is Polar.”

  “Hmm. And did you tell her both names are different kinds of bears?” Ammon asked.

  “Yeah, actually. And she said she doesn’t know what ‘panda bears’ are, but despite the confusion, she still wants me to approve of the names. So I told her those were both great names, but I also had different ones in mind. And thus the names Ying and Yang came to be.”

  One of the cubs was indeed predominantly black, with white eye patches surrounding its bamboo-colored irises. The other was the exact opposite, with a mostly white body and black eye patch. They were adorable, and quite huge.

  “They look just like…” Ammon started.

  “The Leviticum, I know,” Bastion said. “The contrast seems to bring color of its own. Not to mention their shifting eyes.”

  Bastion cleared his throat then, notifying Ammon that he should probably step back.

  “Ying is female, Yang is male,” he clarified, patting Ammon on the back.

  They watched the babies for a while longer, then left the pen locked behind them as they exited. Ammon helped Bastion feed more of the mammals before heading back upstairs to begin his adventure.

  “Have a good time up in those mounts,” Bastion called, “and don’t get careless.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come along?”

  “Yeah, I’m sure. Zeal is coming over in an hour and we are going to continue showing him how to care for the aquariums on B1. He is a promising boy with a sure talent for animal care. You should see how well they respond to him.”

  “You should see how well they respond to you,” Ammon said, emphasizing his final word.

  Bastion smirked and continued cleaning the glass habitats. With that, Ammon ran up the stairs, washed his hands, and exited the Vivarium.

  II

  It was a time for climbing. Th
e morning was still brisk, though growing warmer. Dew was gone from the glass blades of green. Life crept from its burrows one creature at a time, its many voices calling in short staccato.

  Ammon twisted through the gravel trails, descended the stairs on the west side, and passed the waterfall spring as he began to climb. Much of the mountain trail remained the same from his ascent the week before. However, something in his subconscious seemed to remember the location of every colored leaf, every nested bird, every weathered rock.

  Little had shifted, though some things seemed out of place, if even by a hair. These miniscule changes triggered something in his mind, keeping him weary. This was ridiculous, though, and he knew it. Of course the leaves had shifted, the birds had left the nests to eat, and the rocks had moved from further weathering. Still, it was the way of his mind. The Wayothe within him.

  He continued to jog up the slope. It was difficult at first, but his body adapted quickly. After about an hour he paused for rest, taking in the mountain air. He felt he could breathe even deeper than when he had started, though less relief came with each breath. The air was thinner at this higher elevation, meaning it held less oxygen for his muscles. This made his body ache for more.

  Ammon glanced back the way he had come, looking down on all of the structures within Cephas. The Sun was just passed the center of the sky, beginning its long descent to the ocean waves. He looked over South Shore, then combed the sands westward with his gaze before settling on the Bay. The Bay was where nearly every bonfire was held.

  Excitement for the bonfire rose up within him. He figured he would run down the southern trail of Cloud Mountain, which actually diverted where he now stood and headed straight through the trees to the Bay. This trail was unquestionably more dangerous, brandishing steeper inclines and growths from the surrounding vegetation. It would shorten the trip by half, while tripling the risk. It was bound to be treacherous. He couldn’t wait for the challenge.

  He turned and started up again, the burn quickly returning to his thighs and calves. He reminded himself to breathe deep, providing more oxygen to his legs. He would often think of his body as another being. It communicated to him what it required. The burning in his muscles indicated that his legs needed more oxygen.

  By providing it to them, his legs would quit “screaming”, and the pain would dull. Whether this was the real science of it, he was unsure. The idea came to him a couple years before, while climbing this same mountain. The mindset eased his pain.

  Clouds floated in from the west, peaking over the mountain. They showed mild signs of rain, too light a gray to hinder his adventure. He continued up at a steady pace, breathing heavy. It was difficult to describe the joy that began building within his beating heart. Yes, his legs hurt. And yes, he was very happy doing it. Working hard and suffering here also seemed to strength his bond with the land, increasing his love of Cloud Mountain, of Cephas, and even Proelum, with each and every hike.

  I suppose I could always stay here tonight, Ammon thought. He always felt most whole amongst the trees, especially when alone. He loved people, but it was nice to leave it all behind sometimes. Just him and Mother Nature. There was a peaceful feeling to solitude, leaving one to their own thoughts, heightening their clarity to astronomic levels. Which is to say, levels that transcended the mortal realm, reaching as high as universal bodies, or even spiritual worlds, spinning above.

  Perhaps the extra oxygen produced from all the surrounding plants aided in this experience. Though as the elevation grew, the oxygen fell again. So what is the cause of such higher thoughts? Ammon wondered. And thus his mind sought more mysteries of life.

  Then, earthly things struck him once more. The emotions of the last week became almost tangible. His confusions and worries weighed heavy upon his mind, and then upon his body. It was for but a moment, though, before quiet answers from the whispering wood came to slay his doubts and fears. He felt an even greater peace settle on his heaving chest. Nature had given him a clean slate yet again.

  The bonfire was viewed as a reset as well, as it seemed to clear all worries and stress with relaxed companionship, and sugarcane. Even his own sweet, innocent mother believed in the healing powers of the bonfire. Though he enjoyed the celebration, Ammon often avoided the binge eating of copious amounts of sugarcane. He was often alone in this stance. And that was fine.

  There were only a few practices of Cephasonian culture that he preferred to avoid. He just couldn’t see the sense in them. Sometimes he would participate to dodge others’ attention and questioning. For the most part, though, if he wanted to do something differently, then he did it. He took action, rather than breaths.

  Some of them would even mix in the cocoa beans with the sugarcane, heating it up in metal cups over the fire. He had tried it before, and it was certainly delicious to the body and soul. However, the crash afterwards had been quite painful. He had then judged the substance to be a poor crutch for hardship.

  If it wasn’t for the fear of disappointing his friends, Ammon would have slept atop the mountain that night, with the sky as his blanket and the planets humming their ancient tune. His friends would all worry, though, for they knew he had hiked up alone again, which was something all parents warned against.

  The bonfire would be worth it, though. It always was. He was excited to chat and joke around with his peers. There was also a small cliff near the firepit that they would jump from, landing in a deep waterhole near the sand. The height was safe, as it was only twenty feet or so, unless one landed on his or her back or stomach. Bastion had smacked his face on the water last year, and was still convinced he had lost a few memories with the experience.

  When the Sun went down, the energy ramped up. More jumped from the cliff, though it became difficult to see people resurfacing. None had ever died during Ammon’s lifetime, though Mother told stories of one of her friends who had passed out during her jump. She had been left in the water for several minutes, and when she was found and dragged to shore, it was too late to resuscitate her.

  Many of them would strip off all but their undergarments, swimming and splashing the night away. Watching pretty girls undress was something he knew he shouldn’t focus on, or fantasize about. Despite this, he liked it quite a lot, and it never felt wrong in the moment. He suspected the girls liked it too.

  It was always a great time, right up until he saw Sadie joining the late night dip. It would then strike him how wrong it was, to be so exposed before others. He would want to run over and cover her then, while at the same time trying to force his own eyes to look away. Again, it was just the Wayothe within him.

  After a few of these bonfires, Ammon would now remain by the fire after the sunset, drying off from the cliff jumping and free diving, usually clutching a particularly beautiful shell or petrified coral he had found. He would focus on this item, or the licking flames, pushing away the nagging feeling within him to look at Sadie, knowing it would only hurt. He would do this, hoping she would approach again soon so they could walk off into the blue light of the moon and talk about life.

  The beautiful girls, the swimming, the moonlight, the fire, the energy, the friendship… all the Cephasonian younglings came together in these moments, uniting the next generation with common memories. It was great. Yeah, he thought, I’m definitely going to the bonfire.

  Ammon picked up his pace, approaching the clearing of Mirror Lake. A few moments and loose rock stumbles later, he broke from the trees into the open air. The usual habit of jumping into the water sprung into his mind, the thought itself almost excruciating. He ruled it out immediately as he approached a small grass patch, lying on his back.

  He stripped off his sandals and combed his toes through the cool grass. A warm wind brushed by. He sat up and rustled his hair, shaking off the sweat. The day had come and gone. Evening was here.

  Mindlessly, he stood and waltzed to the water. Ripples from the wind kissed the rocks of the shore. He searched for smooth, flattened rocks, collecte
d a few in his left hand, and then flung them out low over the water, watching them skip as they met the wet surface made solid from their spin. He could clearly see the reflection of the moon near the center, occasional disturbances breaking the surface, indicating the three lake fish were out and about.

  He counted the skips each time. Some made it far. Others made only one splash. Finally, he caught one at just the right angle, counting twenty-three skips. A new record, he thought, smiling. He would have to tell Mikael.

  He contemplated skipping the rocks into the center of the moon, then hesitated, not wanting to hurt the lake fish. He then laughed, wondering if anything could really hurt those aquatic goliaths. The rocks were also quite slow by the time they sunk into the water, making them harmless.