Amaranthine Historica

by O. Lemniscate

  “Oooph, what’s the point?” Pharaona lamented. “In any case, the Soothsayers Code of Conduct & Professional Standards forbids my direct intervention. Tis carved in stone: ‘Though all the world's a stage, and all men and women merely players, no scene may be changed by the seers and the sayers’”.[2]

  *****

  And now I, the Amaranthine historian, I say unto you—“Tis true without lying, Pharaona may neither reveal nor conceal—she may only speak in riddles and signs”. Thankfully she’s well-practised. Avant-garde riddles are a long tradition amongst the Sphinx family.

  CHAPTER 2 - The Other World... Astellaria’s D-Day...

  Astellaria was created from the explosion of a star, infinitely smaller than the sun. Born less than 4 million years ago and only 4.4 light years away from Earth, over her short lifespan she received uncountable wishes from myriads of galaxies. Some were quite spectacular! She never forgot this one: “I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight. Grant NOT the wishes of humans, for they are forever wishing evil against one another”.

  This made Astellaria very curious about humans.

  Thus, a few days before D-Day she decided to steer her way towards Luna, who as we all know, is the real name of Earth’s whopping lantern. Astellaria had the best of intentions—to make humans more skilful at wish-making. “Also,” she thought, “who knows? Luna is not fully switched on all the time. She may hire me as her assistant, and if I’m really good, I might even get promoted.”

  Of course, Astellaria had no idea how dangerous this venture could be for her, and perhaps even for the whole universe!

  Little by little, light minute by light minute, this inquisitive and ambitious little star manoeuvred her way in order to get closer to Earth.

  The nearer she got, the more visible she became and of course this resulted in her becoming everybody’s favourite wishing star.

  All seemed to be going well.

  However, things are rarely as they seem—

  In fact, her inevitable explosion would have occurred much earlier, had earthlings known how to wish concisely and precisely. Despite the fact that Astellaria had been warned—and was, therefore, wary about human wishes—never did the actual unfolding events ever cross her mind.

  She discovered the hard way, that most humans know little or nothing about this very complex process. They wait aimlessly for a shooting star, here and there. Then, quite unprepared at the crucial moment, they swiftly shoot up a heap of scrambled, whimsical and meaningless burbles.

  And so, on that one night of the scarlet supermoon, just as Astellaria was straining to hear faint fragments of what sounded like a wish of capital importance: “Shreeeeee Fwoosh... if that Shreeeeee gets on the same orbit Fwoosh... radiation will scorch the surface... Shreeeeee Fwoosh Thwipp,” a woman’s voice calmly and coldly responded, “Then, let it be so! ‘Gateway Shell’ space station will blast Fwoosh to smithereens. We can’t take any risks... Thwipp!”

  Connection lost. Resounding silence.

  Bang! Wham! Shazam! Deadly thunder!

  And so it was!

  That faintly heard titanic wish, burst Astellaria into shimmering specks of dust.

  Luna, startled and horrified, bolted to the rescue throwing an electromagnetic light-field net around Astellaria to stop her from dispersing infinitely into nowhere.

  “Are you sure you want to descend to Earth?” Luna said, trying to dissuade Astellaria from her new perilous plan. “Earth is interesting, but you know, you can’t—”

  Astellaria, still shaken and stumbling over her own jittery words, hastened to interrupt: “Oh I think I’m in humongous trouble now... You-Know-Who is so mad, He’s spitting out super-colossal solar flares... I’ve already been fired from my other galaxy... This time Mr Big Bang will stick me in the Blackest Hole of all Eternity... I’ll be known as the Jinx star of all time... Remember Denebola? Oh what misfortune, what disgrace! Nobody will wish on me ever again!”

  Luna was sympathetic to Astellaria’s pleas and plight, but also anxious about the fury of Big Bang... the One & Only Hot Stuff... the Eternal Mind & Fire.

  “Please help me hide, please!” she implored.

  “Even amongst the Humans? We’ll both be breaking the Law and you know what that—”

  “I’m sure I can fix it... Just give me a chance!”

  “Well, the upside is that Bang lost interest in them a long time ago. Creator backlash syndrome. Remember when Homer Simpson said, I've come to hate my own creation. Now I know how God feels?”

  “Bang might not even bother?” Astellaria whimpered hopefully.

  Luna nodded. “After all, who knows what really caused both explosions? Maybe it was you, maybe it was them, maybe something else or... maybe all of the above!”

  “Both explosions? I only had one and look at me—” said Astellaria.

  “What about the Amaranthine explosion? No time to explain now... Alright, I’ll do my best, but remember... if Hot Stuff finds you, you don’t know me, you never met me... OK?”

  “It’s a deal!” Astellaria sighed with relief.

  Luna then hurried to tell little Miss Jinx as much as she could about the new world she was about to descend upon; about all that she, the Earth’s lustrous night satellite, had observed through her own wise but somewhat romantic eyes.

  Astellaria, bleak and frantic, was way too distracted to grasp it all. She was still trying to deal with her own radical transformation. What would become of her? No, she wasn’t quite ready for her ‘new’ life in a ‘new’ world, but nothing could stop the force pulling her down.

  “Don’t forget to balance your dispersion and rotation measures! Stay under the radar! No wish-granting!” Luna echoed, as Astellaria was fading into the distance. “Oh, and remember to be focused and disciplined! Your cousin Pharaona is rather peculiar you know... She won’t put up with—” and the rest was bleary.

  “What?” Astellaria thought to herself as she flashed through space with the shape and speed of a tiny sputnik, “I have a cousin on Earth?”

  “Try to land in the Great Desert dear... It’s her favourite hangout!”

  Astellaria was now sparked with curiosity to discover Earth... and her ‘peculiar’ cousin.

  Sad to leave, but excited about her new destination, Astellaria twinkled her last goodbyes to the ‘other’ world.

  CHAPTER 3 - Paradise Lost

  When the dust settled and the survivors emerged from the Amaranthine bunker, they were shell-shocked by the sight of piled stones and crushed bones. The stench was unbearable. Noxious clouds hovered persistently, resisting even the most powerful winds coming from the ocean wind turbines. Death had undone so many!

  “I will show you fear in a handful of dust,” said Olfus woefully dazed and spouting strange phrases: “My eyes fail me, I am neither living nor dead, and I know nothing[3]—”

  “What’s he talking about?” Dorion whispered.

  “Yeah, he’s lost it!” Eleni retorted.

  “T.S. Eliot?Poet? Ever heard of him?” Georgia jumped in impetuously and shushed them.

  “So this is our new world,” said Olfus with a trembling heart. The audience looked like Halloween pumpkin heads, their void eyes pinned onto what had become a decaying graveyard, their speech paralysed.

  “We, the best scientists and only survivors on this planet, have a great weight on our shoulders. Darkstorm and her team have put together the best radiochemical procedures to analyse the debris. As we all know, each type of weapon has a distinct fingerprint. We will find out what and who caused the explosion. And I can assure you that those responsible, will be punished!”

  Here, Olfus snuck in a deliberate long pause for dramatic effect. No one dared interrupt.

  And off he went again: “Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends. Even in the face of the impossible difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the Amarantis dream. I have a dream that
one day Amarantis will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed. I have a dream today!”

  Another pause, another dramatic effect.

  “This inferno must be the last! The Earth stands on the brink of mass extinction—and the deadly sin is ours! As guardians of the future, we must at all cost ensure the survival of humanity. We will continue to wear our second-skin suits until our environment—”

  Victor jumped up like an eager paparazzo. “Are we certain that we are the only survivors?”

  There was much agitation.

  “Please settle down... We’ll have question time at the end. As you know, our Life Ark Reserve Vault, LARV, has stocks of the best genetic material. We have enough technical and other resources to rebuild a new world, a better world. Amarantis Subsistence Inc. will cover all our food and water needs, under the joint direction of Dorion Technon and Eleni Makinti—”

  “Dorion, aka “PURE Fun-Guy!” Eleni cried out in a loud, cheerful voice disturbing the undeniably suffocating funereal atmosphere. Those around her tried to choke their laughter. After all, laughing is a serious matter.

  “Yes, PURE Fun-Guy,” Olfus sniggered. “So, as I was saying, Dorion and Eleni will use our artificial regeneration systems to grow artificial plants and meats. They will rebuild what must be rebuilt and repair what must be repaired. Our current rations should last for another 15 years... if we’re careful and if—”

  “But a lot of our hi-tech has been compromised... and we have to reassess our energy resources,” said Georgia timidly.

  “Yes, and we’re having some difficulty with quantum communications satellites. But let’s concentrate on the positive. We still have enough of our previously robust infrastructure and our Bions are in good working order. Our explosion-proof glass pyramids in O-Zones 7 & 8 can be used as greenhouses, at least until we find better solutions. Conan bacteria and other extremophiles have cleared up a lot of the pollution. We were already using Conan for DNA repair and—”

  Eleni jumped in again to point out Dorion’s contribution to the Fukushima radiation clean-up. “Dorion should be in charge of environmental restoration! He’s the Master of Disaster!”

  Olfus cringed at this repetitive eulogising of the PURE maverick. “He certainly is... the Master of Disaster!” he murmured sarcastically. In Olfus’ cloak-and-dagger world, “Eco-Dork” was always mastering disasters against him; rivalling him, tilting at windmills and chasing rainbows. “Fun-Guy my foot!” he rumbled with repressed disdain. Under the Freaud government, Dorion competed fiercely for funding—and the fungi always won! Olfus’ worst defeat came from Dorion’s ‘Elixir-of-Life’ shroom. After that, Olfus’ Aeonios was doomed! PURE sweet Dorion turned out to be a sinister Snow White; no poison apple here, just poison mushrooms!

  “Well, at least we don’t have to worry about the economic crisis anymore,” Victor’s warped humour sparked disapproving glances.

  “Untimely comment Ferrett!” Olfus snapped. “In any case, eugenic revolution has been and remains our first priority. That’s what we stand for here at PURE—the best life forms, and of course, by saying that, I stress best human life forms. Let’s keep calm! Please!”

  Olfus paused, commanding total silence.

  The crowd obeyed.

  He picked up where he left off. “Now, we all know we have tremendous obstacles ahead of us, but let us be realistic and dream the impossible dream... let us reach the unreachable star![4] There is no margin for error. The process must be fast and fastidious. Deviations will not be tolerated!

  In terms of both genetic and economic optimisation, the Euman livestock programme has been given priority. Genetically resistant to our new denatured Nature, Eumans can be farmed quickly and with quick operability. They must conform to the Quality Assurance Manual, which lists the following criteria:

  All Eumans must be programmed only with skills, memories, emotions and imagination necessary for their Class.

  Class A - HEALTH CARE: e.g., Medical Roboticists, Bioinformaticians, Stem Cell Researchers.

  Class B – SECURITY: e.g., Cyber Security Specialists.

  Class C – CONSTRUCTION: e.g., Galactic Architects, Zero Energy Home Architects.

  Class D – ENERGY & TRANSPORTATION: e.g., Energy Engineers

  Class E – EDUCATION & STATISTICS: e.g., Teachers, Forecasters, Data brokers.

  Class F – LABOURERS e.g., factory workers.

  Any Euman with the slightest non-conformity or other imperfection must be recycled immediately”.

  At this point, the infamous ‘Work sets you free’[5] neon sign that spanned the main gate of the ARC switched on, flashing like the Sweet Dreams Casino sign did once.

  Victor was quietly squirming.

  “Yes, I’m sure ‘recycling’ will be done with a minimum of fuss,” he thought as he remembered a long-ago hush-hush conversation with Darkstorm: “...in strict confidence, Olfus is in seventh heaven; now that the “blah blah moralists” as he calls them, are out of the way. We’ll have to keep a careful watch.”

  Olfus rounded up his speech with great pomp: “And now I leave you with the words of our late President, Charles Freaud: ‘I would say to all of you who are here: We shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to the end!’”

  The stunned audience looked sceptical, but what could they do? Vote? It was clear that Olfus had already grafted himself into his new Throne. He always found ways to glue himself onto whatever and whoever, ad vitam aeternam. Who was going to overthrow him? The majority of Humans were too young, too broken, too lost. As for Eumans and Bions, they only appeared on stock inventories, not electoral lists. In any case, the Amaranthine Oracle had apparently already anointed him. SkEyeClops officially confirmed this. There was nothing more that could be done.

  And really, what difference would it have made if anyone had objected? Olfus had his quirks but he wasn’t so bad. His CV boasted of numerous feats: 50 patents, numerous prizes from the international scientific community including 5 honorary doctorates and 3 Nobel prizes (for his iPS-cell-based therapy, computational neuroscience and neuroinformatics). His enemies described him as a ruthless power-freak, a Frankenstein on steroids—but the only other scientists that came close to his level of genius were Jane Darkstorm, Eleni Makinti, Georgia Genix and Dorion Technon. The unspoken consensus was that Olfus would rule.

  *****

  And thus I, the Amaranthine historian, say unto you—with Olfus’ self-inauguration, Brave New Amarantis rose from smoke and ashes, fiercely reaching for its vast vanilla skies.

  CHAPTER 4 - Gaslighting

  “Victor we need to lay on the Bernays[6] sauce again,” announced Olfus as he clipped on his health-tracker watch and swirled his wrist under the grey sunlight that timidly trespassed into his private quarters. The laser-etched watch dial bounced off faint reflections of the PURE logo; Wakeful Almond Tree. His stomach sank. Oh, how he missed the light! After the accident, Olfus could no longer bask in the sun. Like it or not, he was forced to switch to vampire hours. “The young are getting restless,” he said, clearing his throat whilst frowning in the mirror.

  Victor was unfazed. “The Young and the Restless had its last season just before D-Day... The Newmans and the Abbotts are finally and irrevocably dead!”

  “This is serious Ferrett. We can’t be too careful,” Olfus blustered, leaking his deep-seated fear of things cocking up. “You’re the Cage Master! Adjust their psycodes, herd them in, gaslight them! Put together a documentary, or better still... a Reality show like Surviving Hell—”

  “Reality is my brand, Boss!” retorted Victor.

  “The mind frames REALITY... and PURE frames the mind!” Olfus cackled as he slipped on the face that he kept in a jar by the door[7]. He closed into the mirror and adjusted all creases and wrinkles. “You of all people know how to best lead them down the long and winding road that leads to your door[8]...”

  “...and straight into my Cage!” Victor bragged unblushingly and then rushed off to carefully selec
t and edit rushes for his 60 Minutes Special Edition: Amarantis: A State of Emergency! He was the star presenter. To make sure that he got the look right, he secretly rummaged through the Time Capsule until he stumbled on All the President's Men, filed under Banned in Amarantis for 100 years. The commentary underneath read like this: “This movie creates and fosters a sense of grievance which is most undesirable in a turbulent political situation. It doesn’t possess one particularly positive quality – of creation, insight, style, language or composition – which can save it as work of art or as contribution to the public welfare. The effect of the book on the public attitude of mind is dangerous in all aspects.”

  “Hmm... food for thought!” Victor snickered quietly.

  Saturday 24th July, the Film Censorship Board sat in the black viewing room, hugging huge boxes of popcorn. Their editing knives were ready to carve out the unpalatable.

  The 60 Minutes stopwatch started ticking and Whoosh, the announcement “I'm Victor Ferrett, here with the Fearless Four”, was followed by the roll call:

  I’m Yasmine Cheung!

  I’m Katya Stiletti!

  I’m Michael Leakey!

  I’m Dan Del’Orion!

  Tonight on 60 Minutes”

  [Clock Ticking Sound].

  Victor opened the show with praise, laudation, and eulogies of Olfus. The interview was sprinkled with fake applause and crowd-cheering sound effects.

  Victor: We welcome Warwick Olfus, President of Amarantis and world-famous scientist with 3 Nobels under his belt.

  [Applause and crowd-cheering sound effect]

  Olfus: Good evening all! I hasten to add that, 10 years ago, I also won the Quadriga Power of Veracity award, for my transparency regarding corruption in scientific research.