trembles were getting stronger, closer it seemed with each rumble in the marrain. They were in dangerous territory and they all knew it, fear was encroaching faster they hope could keep it at bay. They needed to move on and away from the immediate area into safer territory, away from the constant threat of destruction that these tremors suggested.
They looked at each other in mute silence. They were late. The squeeze would be worried.
“We’d better get a move on.” Dorian said as much to himself as to Sulara.
As they arrived in the feeding cavern, a palpable sense of relief could be felt at their return and they wasted no time before settling into position amongst their friends in the squeeze.
With their thick leathery outer layers it was difficult for sound to carry well when the whole population was grouped together. However, if they placed their heads together, the sound of a voice was trapped by the outer layer helmeting their heads, causing it to reverberate and therefore induce a similar vibration in the outer layer of an adjacent head. The voice could be heard clearly by the recipient and the induced vibration passed on to the next and so on. Thus if all of them had their heads touching against at least two others, a single voice could carry to the whole audience, a simple but effective solution to communication within the group. When small groups of younglings did it, it was known as the squirm, because that’s what they mostly did, but for youngers, olders and oldeners it was known as the squeeze.
Dorian and Sulara settled alongside each other as the whole squeeze quietened down to a hush and then all heads touched in anticipation of an oldener’s voice.
“Welcome to this communal squeeze,” the oldener began, his voice clear in each of their heads, his tone steady and reassuring. “As is custom, I would first like to hear from any of you that have made a discovery since the last squeeze.”
Dorian waited to see if any other voices would cut in. After a decent pause he proffered his name. Maybe it was the excitement, maybe it was the trepidation having recognised the familiar voice of his father but whatever it was the sound that emanated from Dorian was not his name well pronounced as he had anticipated, but his name blurted out in a short staccato stab, quickly followed by a small cough and in a small voice. “Sorry.”
“Younger Dorian,” his father’s voice came to his rescue “what discovery do you have for the squeeze?”
“Oldener Limur we, that is younger Sulara and I, have two discoveries to reveal to the squeeze.” Dorian paused, he had found his voice at last and his confidence was beginning to grow.
“Please continue younger Dorian,” his father encouraged.
“Firstly during our explorations we have discovered a fresh feeding cavern, located not far distant from our present locale.” Dorian paused once more to catch his breath and steady his nerve as a gentle murmur of excitement and approval swept around the squeeze. “And secondly, we have discovered that we are both older.” This statement sent a gentle “ahhh” resonating throughout the head to head of the squeeze.
“Younger Sulara, what have you to say?” Limur gently enquired.
Dorian felt Sulara press her body closer to him as she sought strength and comfort before answering.
“We have indeed discovered that we are older,” She stated simply and clearly.
“Then from this moment forward let us all recognise that Dorian and Sulara are older,” Limur announced. “Dorian and Sulara, I shall find you when we wake after the rest and you will escort me and two others to the new cavern. If there are no further discoveries,” Limur paused in order that any other discoveries could be notified - there where none, “then I shall pass the squeeze over to younger Transmuga for this evening’s reminiscence.”
Transmuga was Sulara’s closest friend. They had both come from the same squeeze in a youngling exchange; both had a distinctive white hue in their outer layer. Perhaps his father thought it appropriate to choose Transmuga for this evening’s history telling; a further acknowledgement of Sulara’s and Dorian’s achievement. But then again, his father had always had a soft spot for Sulara and Transmuga.
Transmuga began her recollection of a section of the histories, her sweetly modulated voice carrying across the squeeze like a lullaby, relaxing the audience into a shared sense of knowledge. Through constant repetition they all knew the histories by heart and silently recited the words along with her. At each squeeze one of them would be selected to retell part of the histories. It reinforced their collective memory so that they would never forget.
According to their histories they had not always had to live this submarranian existence. At some unspecified but very distant time in the past, it is alleged that liquids existed on the surface above the marrain. These liquid pools, it is told, originated very high up above the marrain and periodically fell down to saturate the marrain itself and thus create pools upon the surface. Their ancestors had lived in this environment that abounded with all manner of food stuffs. But later the great dryness had occurred; the liquid had either evaporated or sunk into the depths of the marrain to avoid the heat. Their ancestors had been forced to abandon the surface for the submarranian existence that they now followed.
As the history telling came to an end Transmuga wished them all a good rest. Dorian and Sulara adjusted their position so that their heads disengaged from the rest of the squeeze but remained resting against each other.
“Good rest my older Dorian,” Sulara whispered.
“Good rest my beautifully older Sulara,” Dorian replied.
They nestled into each other with a blissfully happy tiredness and began to rest. It had been a very exciting wake period for them both and next wake they would have the responsibility of escorting a small party of oldeners to their newly discovered cavern. It would be another good wake.
As Dorian drifted into rest, he tried to imagine the future as an older, bringing on younglings, perhaps a squeeze of his own. Dream on, he told himself, one thing at a time; but at this time anything seemed possible.
The next wake seemed to come around too quickly. Dorian felt other bodies moving past him. He snuggled closer into Sulara and touched his head to hers.
“You needn’t think that just because we are now older, we can lie around all wake,” Sulara murmured. “No matter how tempting it is,” she added with a sigh.
“Roger that,” Dorian replied and rolled away with a sigh of his own.
They both made their way to the tunnel entrance that would lead them to the new cavern. Others were milling around and enjoying a wake feed on the algae in the cavern, preparing for the wake period and deciding what to do, where to go and who to join up with. Dorian and Sulara did not bother to feed. They both knew that fresh algae awaited them in the new cavern; they would wake feed on the good stuff.
They did not have to wait long before Dorian’s father and two other oldeners arrived.
“Good wake olders Dorian and Sulara. Please lead us to the cavern that you have discovered.” As always in recent times, Dorian felt slightly embarrassed in his father’s company. The formality of the situation, now that his father was senior oldener in the squeeze, oddly juxtaposed to their former relationship; it left Dorian a little unsure how to proceed.
When he was a youngling his father had been his hero; fearless, confident and always seeming to know what was best. He had spent a great deal of time playing with Dorian, but always the playing had had a practical lesson at heart, preparing Dorian with the basic skills he would need later. But his father was not a selfish man. He spread his good nature and love amongst the other younglings that Dorian played with, including Sulara and Transmuga, for whom he had become somewhat of a surrogate father figure. As youngers, Dorian and his friends had benefited from his father’s experience and common sense. They all greatly benefited from his guidance when their group was under his tutelage. He had been happy then, happy and, Dorian now realised, very much in love with his older partner, Dorian’s mother Cardena.
When his mother was taken by the sickn
ess, his father had changed. He became distant and introverted, shying away from company. Dorian had felt abandoned. He had not only lost his mother, it had seemed, but his entire family and younghood. Then his father had changed again, throwing all of his energies into the good of the squeeze, organising and helping out. It was as if the whole squeeze was his responsibility alone; his new extended family - and Dorian was just one among the many.
Dorian pushed these unhappy thoughts away and focused on the journey, taking care to ensure that they turned at the right junctions, scouting for the trace marks he had left to indicate the way.
He pondered on their submarranian existence. Their life was one continual nomadic journey, moving from one feeding cavern to another as soon as it was discovered. They never completely decimated the algae supply in a cavern unless absolutely necessary. They knew that the more that they left the more would be available at another time for another squeeze or for them if they came that way again. They moved on as soon as they could, before the litter the squeeze produced became overpowering. Netter to eat little and leave just a small mess, rather than decimate and create a cavern that could not be used for generations to come. The system suited them all and each day they would split into various groups and search the
Life on Mars? Page 2