Reanimated_Terminal Misery

by Jon State

  “You said you trusted me and my dreams. Well, last night I had a repeated dream that we were on the beach. A couple, anyway, she thought. You and I with nothing but delicious, seductive food, the like I have never seen. It was the best dream ever…or at least, as of late.” She decided not to reveal how vague the vision had been. “I say we ask Mother to grant us passage and we proceed with trust,” she said, sliding some dry leaves away from her eyes, in order to read the answer in his features.

  “So, we trust Mother?” He sighed.

  “Yes, I trust her completely.”

  Sammis glared at the barren plateau with unbelieving eyes. “Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you, Dreamer.”

  Mirra lowered her head and prayed, “Mother, please guide us well. We are here on a peaceful mission and mean your children no harm. We want to be your friends and live quietly among you. Please listen to my words. Thank you,” she whispered.

  The costumes fooled most vegetation and animals, but how would they work in a place devoid of vegetation, Sammis thought.

  Mirra peeked through the light cloth and scanned the sky. Perhaps this was some flying creature’s hunting ground. Birds of prey used pasture grounds to pounce on exposed prey. Here, flying predators were monsters capable of snatching a human off the field as if they were a mere mouse.

  At first, Sammis feared the worst was to come, but they walked unhindered for nearly five minutes, easing his tension a bit. Then he saw a large object in the distance. They approached what he took at first to be a tree with a very dense crown. It became more evident with every step. "Over there." Sammis gestured.

  “I see it. It looks like an enormous flower.” To her surprise, as they neared, the plant's actual size became evident. The stem and flower easily measured three-yards in height and was orchid-like with a band spectrum so diverse it seemed to shift in colors like a kaleidoscope.

  The mesmerizing plant swayed like any other plant, but its awesomeness made Sammis and Mirra exchange daunting expressions. Mirra wondered if Sammis’s assessment to return to base was correct. Mirra’s mind told her to backpedal.

  Sammis’s pace quickened. Urgency curbed his apprehension. His body tingled with the need to stand before this majestic specimen. He smiled and quickened his pace.

  Mirra swelled with primordial fear. She acted on it and came to a full stop. “Sammis! What are you doing? You’re in danger! Stop! This is a trap—stop!” She ran forward and tugged at his arm, but he tore away, determined and deranged. He continued towards the enticing plant. She sensed motion and turned to the flower. The orchid-like monster flower lowered and ghoulishly spread her petals wide, revealing a dew covered center with crimson-waving hairs reaching for him. Mirra screamed at Sammis but to no avail. She yanked him back with all her strength, but two of the wily, crimson hair-like appendages urged him onward toward the blossom and away from her grasp. Mirra searched her mind for solutions and watched helplessly as he disappeared into the flower. The petals closing around him like a multilayered hatch.

  Mirra fell to her knees wailing. Don’t give up. Do something! She retrieved her steel bolt as she came to her feet, and circled the plant expecting to hear Sammis’s screams at any moment. She raised her weapon, ready to stab the stem. Tears blurred her target. She was only a few yards away when the plant’s roots wrapped around her like a tourniquet, stopping her in mid-step with their vice-like grip, nearly suffocating her. She felt her breath punched from her lungs when the ground hit her. “Uh!” She knew the eels were next…but nothing happened. She wrestled for breath. Mirra prayed. Unsure if this being they’d prayed to earlier even cared about them at all. “Please, Mother!” She wondered if death’s finality tugged the words from her mouth.

  The detestable roots continued crushing her. Exhausted, she stopped struggling. So this is how it ends, she reflected as her vision darkened. A peaceful sensation settled over her. Sleep called to her. Strangely, despite her plight, she realized that the eels had not started to feast—but how could that be? Her cheek pressed hard against the bare soil.

  As if registering her surrender, the tentacles softened around her and retracted as quickly as they had attacked, leaving her panting and coughing, but unharmed. A single tear for Sammis slid off her check onto the thirsty soil. She lay sprawled and coughing, as vulnerable as she’d ever felt. She heaved and cried until she thought she could stand. As she did, the petals started withdrawing on their own, revealing a much-live Sammis.

  He shook his head, bewildered, examining his surroundings, as if for the first time, oblivious as to where he stood.

  Mirra ran to him, pulling him away from the petals. She quickly examined him. In his hands, he held a cantaloupe-sized fruit crisscrossed with bite marks. Yellow goo covered his face. "Are you feeling okay?" she said incredulously. By the look on his face, she half-expected he'd disgorge.

  "Yes. What happened?" Sammis said, surveying the fruit.

  Mirra paused, staring at the ground, then at the fruit, and back to the plant, who had recovered to her original position. The swirling colors dazzled her. She gave him the Fruit? Mirra brushed the tears from her wide eyes. “I think I understand. The plant released some kind of pheromone which persuaded you to enter into its yawning petals so that it could disseminate its offspring inside you.” She used her finger to wipe some slime from his cheek. She rubbed the mucus with her forefinger and thumb. She eyed Sammis, who sourly wiped at the goo on his face. "I gather this substance is possibly an activator or pollen. Those tiny objects in the fruit where you bit could be the eggs, which incubate in the host's warm digestive system." She swallowed distastefully and noticed that Sammis’s face had turned a chalky white. "I'm sure it's harmless, but, I'd rather you not eat this. Imagine if this plant intended for you to incubate and also feed the young." This speculation urged them to move away from the cunning plant as if the thing had overheard them.

  Sammis groped his stomach and regurgitated hard, the force sending him forward. The thick, yellow muck channeled into small pools across the bare soil.

  Mirra stepped back from the sight, feeling a bit sick herself.

  Sammis opened his tear crusted eyes, only to force another bile stream. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Yuck! Wait a minute! Are you telling me that I was swallowed by that immense flower and…it fornicated inside me, then released me to be consumed by its progeny?” This notion forced him to regurgitate some more. The yellow slime spewed from his gaping mouth, like a pressurized hose. The color in his face turning a bright crimson.

  Mirra shrugged. “Not necessarily. Perhaps nature was supposed to take its course. Hence, you need not worry. Plus, you didn't consume all the fruit. I'll save some slime and fruit and have it tested, okay?"

  “Yeah, but why can’t I remember going in there?” He glared over his shoulder at the innocent looking plant.

  "The pheromone may be laced with dopamine or any naturally occurring alkaloid morphine. What's important right now is our mission. I found out the hard way that there are no parasites here, despite the clearing's vast size. Plus we haven't run into any unusual problems, save for our beautiful, but forceful friend. We need to tell the others before any local residents decide to stake a claim to our find. I think we still have time to walk the clearing to be sure it’s safe.”

  "I'd rather get my insides checked if you don't mind,” Sammis said, as he spit to one side. His face contorted at the thought of being impregnated by a vegetable. “So much for my love of plants.”

  “We won’t linger on our way back. Plus, it’ll take more than a few hours for those seeds to germinate.”

  “Yes, dear, but have you noticed that we’re not in Kansas anymore? Some rules don’t apply here as they did on Old Earth.”

  Mirra smiled. Her hazel eyes gleaming with joy. "I'm so happy you're okay, but, I knew when we came out here we had a duty greater than ourselves, and I believed in the vision, which clearly showed no mortal danger. Look at our little community an
d how it's faltering, weakening. We need this land." She reached for his hands. “Only for a few minutes.”

  He squeezed both her hands, still sensing the sticky slime across his head, feeling defiled, “Okay, but I’ll need some more leaves when we head back. Mine are all sticky and bunched up,” he said, plucking some off.

  “She peered into the distance and perceived a small hillock. We’ll meet up there.” She pointed.

  “Sure, as long as I don’t have another creature impregnate me.”

  “No, that’s my job.” She grinned, ready to kiss him, but pulled back when she came close to the yellow stuff around his mouth and instead blew him a kiss.

  ************************************

  Mirra couldn't believe how calm everything seemed. She still felt vulnerable in the open ground—so much so that she kept eyeballing the sky. Close to the rendezvous, she came across a dead tree arrangement. It was an ominous site, considering everything throughout New Earth decayed or was consumed so efficiently. Mirra peered at the towering bark-less, ivory trees. She sensed no danger around her.

  Mirra’s inquisitive nature urged her to investigate the outlandish trees, but having experienced the dreadful situation with the luring orchid, she maintained a safe distance. Mirra scanned the grounds, noticing the dead tree line’s symmetric pattern which went on and on in each direction, almost like a protective wall, as if put there to keep something out, or in.

  A noise put her on edge. Mirra leaned in closer to focus her hearing, the elusive sound—distant and vague—stopped, then came again.

  “Come closer,” a melodic voice whispered in the wind.

  “Did I hear…?” Mirra swallowed hard.

  She straightened with a slight jerk when the voice repeated itself.

  “Come closer,” it urged.

  Mirra, instead, eased away, sliding her feet, afraid she’d be tackled at any moment. She began to question whether they should’ve separated—me and my bright ideas.

  "Do not be weary, be steady."

  The nearest tree had a large branch that reached into the sky. Had she seen it move? No, the trees are dead, she concluded. Then she saw the limb reach down. The wind wasn't responsible. "I'm just tired," she reflected. Rest would do me some good right about now, she thought, her face becoming hard. She prepared her feet to turn and rush down the hill.

  "Do not fear my dear. Come closer, Mirra.”

  This time, there had been no doubt. The breeze like voice came in the general direction of the presumed windblown tree limb. Mirra raised her eyebrows, eyes wide. The tree appeared to be dead, yet, absurdly, it spoke. She inhaled, gathering resolve, and decided to answer, but refused to take another step forward. "Are you speaking to me?" she said, feeling a bit foolish, but she assured herself that New Earth's wonders if told to someone back on Old Earth, would sound farfetched.

  "Yes. There is no one else here, dear," it said musingly.

  Mirra hesitated. “I have never encountered a speaking tree before. My apologies.”

  "You are children of the Old World. I mean you well. Do not be frail, listen, listen,” it repeated softly, like the wisp of a breeze through a willow tree.

  “Yes, of course,” Mirra said as questions stirred throughout her astounded mind.

  "I know you from birth, and it hurts. I have watched, chosen you to me, you see. Your tears procured this land for all of yours. This land only to your people belongs, be grateful and not wasteful. Do not be ungrateful to your home. Do not extend your dwelling, unless I grant it. Honor all life and life will honor all that belongs to you, and this is true. I have spoken." The branch, which had waved, returned to its original position as if it had never moved.

  Mirra embraced the words, her body stiff with fear. She wanted to run and tell Sammis—everyone—but feared the tree had more to say. The voice neither belonged to a man or a woman, but music—its melodic tone reminded her of a symphony.

  Mirra's heart leaped, for out of nowhere a primate looking creature appeared on the once waving, dead limb. It had unusually long ears and was covered in black, white, and yellow fur. It stood upright, then purposely bowed in her direction.

  Mirra stared dumbfound. Is it bowing at me? Where did it come from? she thought, then genuflected in return. For the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, she felt hopeful. Her heart felt too big for her chest.

  The furry creature straitened, apparently satisfied with her response, it leaped clear off the limb and sped away as fast as a cheetah, disappearing swiftly among the bordering vegetation.

  Did I just seal a pact with a stripped primate? Mirra marveled. She inhaled the approaching night's chilled air. No more words were spoken. What she had done felt right, despite not fully understanding the implications.

  Moments later an unusually swift breeze caressed her. It filled her nostrils, whispered in her ears, nuzzled at her skin, and managed to move her toward Sammis like a slight push in the right direction. The wind had connected with her very essence and clarified what had occurred between her and Mother. It was so simple, yet meant so much to the remnant human colony. The crafty song spoke directly to her soul.

  ************************************

  Mirra and Sammis could barely contain their enthusiasm on the way back. They made great time, as no creature or vegetation opposed them, confirming Mirra’s story.

  “I didn’t mean to doubt you before, but you have to admit how incredible it sounded—even for this place. This wide-open path has convinced me though," Sammis announced, his gaze fixed on the unobstructed, spacious path ahead.

  Two white, pony-sized felines glared at them from only a few yards away. Sammis began to slow his pace, but Mirra urged him ahead with a slight tug on his hand. He looked at her cloth-leaf strewn face, she was smiling beneath it. The animals sat on their haunches, their white fur glistening in the lazy light. Sammis released the breath he'd unconsciously held as they passed the two majestic creatures. His logic told him the suits had protected them, but logic also said to him that felines were inquisitive creatures. Seeing two dead, walking shrubs had to be a curiosity, but the felines never budged. They looked like two sentinels watching over them, a notion that occurred to him when the cats appeared two more times before they reached the mountain's base.

  ************************************

  Mirra understood the experience as a spiritual one—a whispering tree, an honorable simian, and a breeze that filled her with understanding. Convincing the incredulous group of woman and men who made decisions would prove to be difficult, but at least she had the clearing—or at least she hoped it would still be there when Mathew's drone flew over it. She also had a witness who saw the open expanse, but could not confirm her conversation with the tree, nor had he heard the melody in the wind.

  Mirra’s heart swelled with gratitude because the wonderous clearing would save them from the retched caves. Back on Old Earth, she'd strived to protect endangered species. Now humanity was facing extinction, and she would do all she could to save them, even if it entailed a leap of faith. She had to convince them of the terms which Mother would hold them to. She knew this would prove difficult because she understood her own inquisitive nature. If the land had reacted to past human affront, then it was imperative they change their methods, if only to be accepted by the instinctive land.

  Mirra removed her disguise. Her smile sparkled gold in the fading light when she faced Sammis, who plucked a twig from her unruly hair. "Do you know anything about dogs?" she asked.

  Sammis’s eyes drifted to the mountain they called home, wondering if what she had to say could wait.”

  Mirra took his hands in hers and squeezed them tenderly. “Sammis, this is important. Do you know anything about dogs?”

  “I’ve had one or more all my life. Bruno was my last,” he said. His eyes lingered above Mirra’s head as if seeing his furry friend one more time. “He kept my mother company while I made arrangements to bring her to Manta,” he said, his l
ips tightened against the memories as if holding them back.

  “I’m sorry, Sammis. My point was not to sadden you.”

  "I've gradually begun to let it go, and you have aided me far more than you know," he said, squeezing her hands in return.

  “When you fear a dog, they can sense it. When you respect and honor their nature, they sense it, too. This land—in a much greater scale, of course—can sense our fear, and it mistakenly translates it as aggression and seeks self-preservation. We need to respect her, not fear her.”

  “Her?”

  “The pronoun is of no consequence. The being which cares for this land is nurturing and gave birth to this new ecosystem—hence, Mother.”

  He frowned, mulling over this concept. “The female gender was worshiped for thousands of years back on Old Earth. We lost that and humanity was not the better for it. As for the land’s reaction to us, this explains why the large cats failed to react in our presence. You showed no fear, so they let us pass unharmed.”

  “Humanity will rise once more, but not with our ancestors’ mindset. Let’s tell the others the great news.”

  “How do we convince them? We have no tangible proof.” Sammis noticed her calm expression.

  “We have what we need to convince them—our word. Of course, seeing the open ground from above should help, too."

  Chapter 34

  Abstraction

  Manta, Ecuador, Rosa Mountains

  May 25, 4067

  When she conveyed the story of the alien voice to the three acting council members and delegates, they displayed general incredulity. Mirra expected this, despite all of their strange encounters, her tale did sound inconceivable. A peculiar, wispy voice giving us land seemed pretty crazy indeed, she reasoned as she stared at the rigid faces among the delegates. Thankfully, she did see some persuadable expressions.