Reanimated_Terminal Misery

by Jon State

  “Yes, friends. Yearn to learn my lyrics?” the bird intoned merrily as it hopped their way.

  “You can…talk?” Sammis said, frowning.

  "Now you know, so you can bestow, converse we may all?" The Mockingbird's mouth moved as if mocking them.

  “How is this possible?” Mirra asked.

  “Mother utters it so, so we may all, converse as one,” it said as it ruffled its feathers.

  “This is wonderful. Praise Mother,” Mirra said, earning her a quizzical glance from Sammis.

  “Less so, when a predator, speaks from his maw,” the mockingbird said, bobbing its head.

  “Oh! I see your point,” Mirra said, scrunching her face.

  “Assist I may, if you lay, your befuddlement, my way.”

  Mirra and Sammis exchanged baffled looks.

  “We’re trying to find food and shelter. I mean, we have tents, but nothing permanent.” Sammis thought the creatures head bobbing meant it didn’t understand. “You know, food to eat and something over our heads.” He gestured with his hands to clarify the point.

  The bird paused and seemed to sniff the air. "Mother says to give, for this may hasten your stay." The marvelous bird spread its wings and glided to the shore, retrieving the two golf sized balls and returning, it hovered above them for a moment. "Have these as gifts. To others, it will be bliss."

  Mirra and Sammis caught the balls, immediately noticing the hard texture.

  “They’re hard as rocks, yet very light. Give me yours,” he said, taking Mirra’s ball, then he struck them together. The orbs were undamaged by the impact.

  "You use and snuggle away from the refuse, that the day, brings your way." the bird said, floating to the ground.

  “You mentioned Mother. Do you know her?” Mirra asked, setting aside the discovery of the hardened clay

  “Wise provider of life. Look around to every sound. Look to the sky and ask why. You will find her in due time.

  “Thank you, friend. Will we see you again?” Mirra said.

  “Pray I do, along the bamboo, possibly both of you,” it said as it spun around and flew away.

  "You said a dream told you to come here and this is why?" Sammis said holding up the two balls.

  “You mean we can use the mud to make things, like tools, perhaps even furniture?” Mirra guessed, shrugging, before returning her gaze to where the bird had disappeared.

  “Think bigger. Look.” He smashed the rocks together once more. “See? Not even a dent. This stuff is as strong as cement—hell, stronger. We can use it to build structures,” he said, his face brightening.

  Mirra’s did, too, as she pondered what just happened. “The mockingbird said Mother wanted us to know about the clay. She brought us here." She took a ball from Sammis smiling.

  “I’m inclined to believe so, and she did it through you,” he said, kissing her forehead. “All because you dared to believe, honey. And you’ve made me a believer, too.” He caressed Mirra’s curly hair.

  “And now you have another reason to believe.” She held up the orb in front of his eyes.

  “You’re right. Let’s see what our scientists and engineers can make of this stuff." Sammis took the other ball Mirra held and stuffed them into his pocket.

  “I’m starting to think the only way people will believe in Mother is if she materializes right before them,” Mirra said.

  “They’ll say it’s a sophisticated hologram.”

  Mirra nodded reluctantly. “Some things never change.”

  Chapter 39

  Conundrum

  New York Territory, USC

  June 10, 4067

  “Do you think that planting the seeds on our land will make the plants stay here?” Dr. Spencer said.

  “I don’t see why not. Mother gave us the land. Perhaps the plants will honor that.” Malica shrugged.

  “You have a point. I’m surprised Mirra didn’t suggest it. She is our resident Mother expert.”

  “She’s under a lot of pressure. Despite what Mother has given us, many refuse to believe. I’ve seen quite a few people shunning her,” Malica said while examining the oblong seeds the doctor had been scanning.

  “We still have plenty naysayers—some still seem etched in stone during our meetings, some call what’s happened, a series of coincidences or just pure dumb luck. They seem to think their objections concerning the supernatural will bring back Old Earth logic." The doctor sniffed in disdain, as he began placing seeds on a petri-dish.

  “Malica, Spence,” Ben said as he entered the lab and came around the field table. “Last night’s storm hit us hard. We had a few bruises and a torn tent, and that was a mild storm compared to the one that hit us during our stay in the caves. Could you fathom a tropical storm, hurricane, or a tornado?” He shook his head.

  “I had the men double rope and stake all the tents. I sent you a text,” Dr. Spencer said.

  "I got it, but I had to settle a dispute—seems some in our group think they should not do manual labor because it’s a blue collar’s job. I had to insist, at least until we repair the damaged tent and clear the debris left by the storm,” Ben said.

  "Having a Ph.D. doesn't guaranty maturity, huh?" Malica smiled.

  “Sure doesn’t,” Dr. Spencer said, switching the prickly seed he was scanning to one smooth and round.

  “We have twelve fruit trees. Any idea how to get more?” Ben said, changing the subject. The lines on his face had become pronounced under the hot sun.

  Dr. Spencer looked at Malica. “We have some ideas.”

  “Knock, knock!” came a familiar voice.

  “Come in, Sammis,” Malica said.

  Sammis and Mirra entered, holding hands. They whispered something to each other in a quick firing sequence.

  “Okay,” Mirra said, louder than she had intended. She looked up at the trio, and her face softened. She squared herself as if about to say, surprise! But then she looked at Sammis and squeezed his hand. Nodding, she said, “I found this.” She took one of the orbs from Sammis’s hand, barely able to contain her excitement.

  “It was in the water’s shore. It’s mud until you mold it, then it becomes very, very hard." Sammis placed the other orb in Dr. Spencer's hand, who examined it.

  Mirra placed the one she held in Malica’s hand.

  “It’s very light,” Malica noticed, evaluating the orb with her hand.

  “Hard, too,” Dr. Spencer said.

  “Try breaking it,” Sammis said, smiling mischievously.

  Dr. Spencer asked Ben to hand him a shiny hammer that hung beside other stainless surgical tools. Dr. Spencer hit it lightly at first, and then he increased the intensity, his curiosity peaking. When he failed to put a dent in the substance, he said, "Amazing! You say this was mud?" Dr. Spencer asked, furrowing his brow.

  “Yes, and the stuff covers the riverbank on both sides, too,” Sammis said.

  “How did you come across such a find?” Ben asked, seizing the ball as if it would disappear from Dr. Spencer’s hand.

  “Well, we—” Sammis started.

  "I dreamt about it, and a Mockingbird gave it to us—a talking mockingbird as big as a crow.”

  The silence dragged a second longer than it should have.

  “What she means is—”

  “Are you my puppeteer, Sammis? I can speak on my behalf, thank you very much,” She said glaring at him. "I didn't realize the vision had come true until we were at the riverfront. We originally set out looking for building blocks, like the ones I saw in my dream. In my dream, a bird did sing to me. I don't want to sound like I'm trying to convince you because the Mockingbird did speak to both of us," Mirra said, pointing at Sammis and then back at herself. “At first, we were speechless. Imagine, us speaking to a sentient bird.

  “A talking bird!” Ben nearly choked on the words.

  "We were too transfixed to record it, but I swear the bird spoke—only, it had a sing-song tone to it. It gave us the rock orbs, which it had rolled up
from the clay on the riverbank," Sammis said, not holding anything back now. I told Mirra to keep this part of what happened out—at least, until the substance the bird gave us proved useful. I mean, for all we know it will crumble when under pressure, moisture, or the sun’s constant heat,” Sammis said, not wanting to meet Mirra’s icy glare.

  “Did it speak clearly?” Dr. Spencer asked.

  Mirra glanced at Sammis. "It was in rhymes, but we understood what it meant," he confirmed and tried to smile at Mirra.

  Malica noticed the scowl forming on Ben’s face. “I believe you, Dreamer-Mirra. Too bad I missed it,” she said, with an encouraging nod.

  "You're the shrink here, Malica. Are you going to encourage them to tell the people animals can speak?” Ben said, releasing a cloud of spittle.

  “I believe them. They would never make something like this up,” Dr. Spencer said. “After what we’ve experienced in New Earth, how could I not? Though, I would add a note of caution.” He turned to Mirra and Sammis. "Let's keep the talking bird out, at least for now. Some people are still terrified, enough so that Malica has had her hands full. If they were to find out the creatures around us are intelligent…” Dr. Spencer shook his head, “…I don't know how they would take it. But for speculation's sake, I imagine some would take it well and others, not so much. What do you think Malica?" Dr. Spencer said.

  Ben took the orb from Dr. Spencer's hand so quickly that it made the doctor flinch. Dr. Spencer plucked it back and began scraping the sphere with a metallic file, but he could not scratch the surface.

  “Yes, I do agree. My list of patients suffering from anxiety grows larger by the day. Some are very fragile,” Malica said, shaking her head. "Many are in denial, and that leads to other conditions.

  “I agree,” Sammis said, noticing Mirra’s stern look. "We will tell them soon, or perhaps they will find out more subtly," he said, wanting to reach out to her, but her expression only made him massage his clammy palms.

  “Very well, but I will tell them I saw it in a dream—the substance, that is,” Mirra responded, her tone softening. “But let me add this—when will it be time? Time for everyone to see that we are in a world where anything is possible. We are the skeptics. We see, hear, and feel what this world is, but we refuse to believe it’s possible. I don’t understand. There is way too much evidence already. We have to start accepting our surroundings, sooner than later.”

  Malica sighed. "I agree with you, but many of these people feel more comfortable with what they know, and unfortunately they need more time."

  “Look, once we have permanent shelters people will feel safer, and then we can talk about intelligent creatures,” Ben said.

  Everyone nodded as he glanced at them.

  "Now that we've agreed how long until you can analyze the stuff?" Ben said as Malica handed Dr. Spencer her sphere.

  “Depends. I’ll let you know when I have something conclusive. Ben, Mathew’s working on my AID’s program, can you send for Private Johnson. I promised to start training him,” Dr. Spenser said.

  "You think it wise? I mean, we need to discover the hard mud's properties ASAP," Ben said, raising his bushy eyebrows.

  “Six arms and three brains, which include Charlie 4, will work more efficiently. Losing Frank left us with only two physicians, one being myself. In the meantime, I’ll start analyzing these. Charlie can give us some preliminary results.” He noticed that no one moved. “I’ll keep everyone posted,” Dr. Spencer said.

  Malica brushed his sleeve and started out.

  Ben grunted and left hurriedly, without another word.

  “And the snake has slithered away,” Mirra said, no one contradicted her.

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

  Ben hesitated by a weathered blue tent, innocently surveying his surroundings. The sign above the door read Delegate Deliberation Room. Inside, nine delegates sat in the gloom. A single candle made the tents folds shimmer. Ben took a seat at the center.

  “We need to move our plans ahead of schedule,” Ben said, his voice grave.

  “Why? Have more dreams come true?” a woman in a raspy voice said.

  “Worse. A talking bird.” He heard a few chuckles and gasps. "I'm serious." He leaned across the table, eying each person in the dim light, noticing their response. "My reaction was the same. We need to isolate our people from the insanity that surrounds us. People, this is much worse than a plaque. We need to show the people we can protect them. I will call for a vote, and each person here knows how to coax the other delegates on how to vote, correct?"

  They nodded in unison, like puppets.

  “Unfortunately, we will have to include Dr. Spencer and Dr. Malica on the ballot. They are popular among the working class, and it would be very suspicious if we excluded them as candidates," Ben said.

  "Ben, they have a limited following, and you have our full confidence," a man clad in black said.

  "They are poor contenders for chair representative, but I fear they will be on the council either way," Ruby said, her eyes reflecting the dancing flame.

  "We will have the majority and, in the end, that's what matters. Soon we will have a twelve member council, and we can vote on isolating our people from this savage world. I fear they will overlook our last voting session because we did not have a true appointed Council," Ben said. He had started to care less about what Dr. Spencer and Malaca thought of him. The people trusted him, and that was the only thing that mattered.

  Chapter 40

  Seclusion

  New York Territory, USC

  June 11, 4067

  "Silence, please. Dr. Spencer is ready to address the distinguished delegates," Ben said, gesturing everyone to be silent.

  “Thank you.” Dr. Spencer began disliking Ben's tone during their meetings. He wondered if the man knew how he sounded. Sometimes his words feigned his real intent, at other times they seemed condescending. He had discovered Ben using delusive words to suggest he'd found the substance which everyone considered a wonder—clay harder than steel. Spencer had seen the look in Ben's eyes when he had snatched the orb from him at the med tent. In addition to this, somehow the Mockingbird story leaked but with a different storyline, one that made it seem like a fairytale. Ben denied having anything to do with it, but the doctor knew Ben was responsible because the others claimed to have told no one and he trusted them. He also denied he had anything to do with the rumor concerning a vote for a permanent Council.

  “The substance Mirra discovered has a goethite composition. However, unlike naturally occurring goethite in aquatic snails, this strand comes in a liquid-based form, possibly what keeps the waters channeled along the waterway since even in its wet state it has nearly no weathering. We have to run it through more exhaustive tests, but at this point, as a building material, it is sound.” Chattering ensued and died as the doctor waited. "According to Specialist Johnson, my new aid," he glanced at Johnson, "the substance is greatly abundant and, if scooped from the bed, is replenished by more. Johnson removed large samples, and the holes were covered overnight by more. This tells us the substance is being carried here from an adjacent location. How much we can use will depend on the source. At this time we don't have the resources to trace its origin, though Mathew Kindler tried with Buzz's aid. We're calling the new material goe-f, because it has a ferrite composition. We will take any questions at this time," Dr. Spencer said. He answered a few obvious questions, some he had to pass on because they were absurd or plain selfish.

  When silence finally ensued Ben stood. "Thank you, Dr. Spencer. We will be transporting the goe-f starting tomorrow, and we'll need volunteers to help with the extraction and transport, so please encourage your people to participate. The faster we build our city and defenses, the easier everyone will sleep," Ben said.

  A skeletal, old man wearing Gandhi-like spectacles rose with a raised hand.

  “Do you have something to contribute?” Ben said, smiling.

  "Yes. I was wonderin
g why we can't vote for a permanent Council, which can oversee our future city's needs. I imagine no better time than when we are drawing out the plans for the city," the man said.

  “Does anyone second the motion?” Ben responded.

  "I second the motion," said a middle-aged woman. Her shiny, peppered hair frizzled by the recent rains.

  “Corporal Stevens, can you record the yays and nays please?”

  Hands went up for the vote.

  Ben felt instant relief as he counted the hands to himself.

  “Just four nays, Ben,” the corporal said.

  "At this point, we will choose an electorate team to oversee the election. I see a promising future for us in this land. Strange as it may seem, we will rise to the occasion and possibly expand to other places of New Wrath when the time is right."

  Dr. Spencer, Mirra, Sammis, and Malica glared at Ben.

  Does it start here? Dr. Spencer considered. Is this how power is seized, with noble overtures—for the greater good and all that bullshit that puts dictators where they want to be? I feel so hopeless, he thought slowly rising, his mind racing to find a way to stop Ben from manipulating the delegates, but he had no proof or good ideas. I can’t show the sheep the wolf among them. All sheep want is to graze and shit, and all the while the Sheppard is a wolf.

  “Are you feeling well, Spence,” Malica said, noticing the dark glare he set towards Ben.

  He turned to her, startled, “Yes. I can’t help thinking Ben’s manipulating will get us all killed,” he said, tearing his eyes from the smiling, handshaking Ben.

  “I agree, the man is manipulative, but he is so subtle at it. If we try to expose him, people will rally to his side. In fact, they may think we are trying to sabotage the election,” Malica said.

  “Perhaps you should speak to Lt. Pierce. I think he doesn’t care much for Ben either,” Sammis said.

  "I think I'll just do that. For now, we have to be careful what we say and where. The surveillance system we removed from storage has rice size cameras in a dozen stream loops, per sector. If we need to speak about this, we will have to use specific areas. One of the techs is a friend, and he can give us a schematic.