Eetoo
by Robby Charters
Smashwords Edition
© 2007 by robby charters
Also by Robby Charters:
Pepe
The Zondon
The Story of Saint Catrick
The Eurasian
Visit Robby on Facebook
www.RobbyCharters.co.uk
E-book design and cover art by Robby's E-book Formatting
www.Robbys-eBook-Formatting.co.uk
Dedication:
To my dear father (may he rest in peace).
One of the last things he did was to go over this manuscript, making notes of the spelling and usage errors.
He also could speak Karen, the language of the tribal group on which I based the Fa-tzi-zhi, the tribe to which Eetoo belonged.
Part 1 -- The Shepherd
1
nights are dark on Kalodzu-Famta; there is no moon
not an orbiting body to light the planet at night
nor to interrupt the menagerie of stars
the galaxy thus visible in unobscured glory
the shepherd boy sits beneath a tree
on a rise on the edge of a grove he rests
surrounded by grass plains, no living soul but the sheep
half a day's journey from any human dwelling, he sits alone
the sheep, one by one, go off to sleep
alone in the quietness of night, his young eyes scan the sky
This is the third time I've seen a light moving about in the sky.
The first time, Uncle Zhue Paw told me it was only a shooting star. I thought it went too slow for that, but I figured maybe he was right and it was my mind playing tricks on me. Then I saw it again a week ago -- definitely too slow.
Now I'm positive it wasn't. Shooting stars don't stop and go back the way they came. But they'd probably say I was lying. They already say that knowing how to read the ancient writing makes my head too cloudy.
Oh well, it's not bothering the sheep anyway. And they're probably right. Lights in the sky don't do anything to people anyway, especially this far from the village, so telling them would only make more trouble for me.
I might tell Venerable Too Dha, though. He's different from the others. He takes me seriously, probably because he can read, and knows it isn't bad for you. Uncle Zhue Paw would only scold me for being so dreamy from too much reading.
Anyway, I'd better get to sleep. It'll be a long walk back to the village tomorrow. The sheep have settled down anyway.
There's that light again, and now it's coming from that direction. Wouldn't it be something if that were a ship -- like what our fathers arrived on?
* * *
Heptosh scanned the surface once more, this time at an altitude from which he could make out individual features. The all-around viewer, aided by the infrared sensor, showed the nocturnal landscape. The grassland, the few clumps of forest here and there, looked dryer than Heptosh's home planet, but well suited to keeping sheep. His activity shouldn't raise any undue alarm from the inhabitants on this side of the mountain divide. They'd mistake him for a shooting star.
Here and there, he could pick out a shepherd minding his sheep, or a caravan camped out for the night -- harmless, but it wouldn't be good to interrupt their peaceful existence by suddenly appearing to them out of the sky.
It was those on the other side that worried him. They were a more advanced civilisation -- or, at least they used to be.
If they were as they used to be, they'd present no problem. The Kalodzu and the Toki human populations had enjoyed many happy interactions.
Then, they reported some sort of struggle. The Kalodzu had sent out a warning not to enter their solar system until they had got their problem sorted out. They also said something about seven transport shiploads of refugees. It wasn't clear exactly what the trouble was, but the refugees would explain it. So the sector council issued a restriction, and waited. Then they went silent. No refugees ever appeared. That all happened twelve years ago, as humans still counted time.
Now, the restriction had expired -- still, the silence, so Heptosh was on a scouting mission.
So far, he determined that on the Famtizhi half of the planet, civilisation carried on as it always had. Heptosh had spent the last several weeks making observations of life on the ground -- nothing to worry about here.
But, over the divide? He had detected no satellite surveillance, no reconnaissance ships -- the Kalodzu hadn't been in the habit of maintaining a close watch, but who was in control now?
Whoever it was, at least hadn't begun to guard the airspace. Perhaps that was good.
But perhaps it meant bionics. Bionics would follow the habits of their human hosts, and therefore maintain the same level of surveillance.
There were no signs of bionics on this side of the divide. He would cross over and examine the ground on the Kalodzu side -- carefully.
A mountainous isthmus separated the Famtizhi land mass from the Kalodzu continent. Nestled in a valley in that isthmus, was the city of Kalodzu, where he would find the space port. The mountains were quite impassable for land travel, except for a tunnel through a mountain from the Famtizhi area into the city, which was only approachable from the rest of Kalodzuland via the subterranean portion of the city. The same mountain range lined the North coast of the Famtizhi land mass, surrounded the city, and then went along the South coast of Kalodzuland. Therefore, access by sea was also all but impossible.
Heptosh began flying at a low level across Famtizhi territory towards the mountain range. His intention was to creep over in stealth mode below the range of their scanners.
The line of cliffs topping the mountain range loomed ahead of him, running in a straight line as far as his eyes could see. A millennia of erosion had rendered them more natural looking, otherwise, the straightness of the formation was the hallmark of its human design. Everything on these artificial planets, the mountain ranges, the coastlines, even the caves under the ground, were done in straight lines.
His ship hovered in a cleft that had been eroded between two giant stones forming the mountain range, providing him a vantage point. From there, he looked.
2
greenness, large rocks, a winding stream betwixt vertical rock cliffs
the sound of a waterfall echoes from deep within
a fence encloses the mouth of the canyon
approach to the grass within is through a gate
outside lies what once was a market
old stalls and stone tables tell of bygone days
They say Fa-tzi-zhi, used to trade here with the Kalodzu. It must have been exciting with so many people about selling things. I would have been two years old when it all stopped, so I don't remember any of it.
The sheep will be safe fenced inside the canyon until I come back with more food. I won't stay in the village very long. I never do. Ever since Ni Gwah got sucked down the whirlpool, Venerable Too Dha is the only close friend I have.
I'll visit him, and tell him about the lights in the sky.
I wonder if it was the lights last night that prompted that dream?
It was the same as I've had before. I'm with someone in a dark cave, holding a light. We find these golden plates that were buried in the wall. The first time I dreamed it was when Paw and Maw were still alive, and Venerable Too Dha hadn't started teaching me to read yet. I must have been six years old. After that I started reading the writings, and I read where it says there are golden tablets hidden somewhere that will complete our knowledge, and it will be someone's job to fetch them. Later, I had the dream again, when I knew it was about those golden tablets. After I told Venerable Too Dha the dream, he got all quiet. He still mentions it sometimes. I'm sure he doesn't take it seriously,
I'll as
k Venerable Too Dha to let me read the tablets again. I've read them so many times already, I wish there were more to read -- maybe if someone found the golden ones.
* * *
Heptosh wasn't sure who introduced Bionic Replication to his native planet of Nefzed. He was only old enough at the time to know it was the in-thing for the rich and leisurely. Several renowned playwrights, minstrels and storytellers had taken an implant. So had a few senators' wives and other setters of the latest fashions.
They placed it under the skin either in the forehead or in the wrist. It was a chip containing microscopic bionic self-reproducing cells, programmed to replace their neighbouring cells until the whole limb, and eventually, one's whole body became bionic. When the process was complete, there was the bionic humanoid, perfect in every way, with super strength, super intelligence (so they said), absorbing all its energy from sunlight, thus not needing organic food to keep it alive. In fact, with proper maintenance, it would go on living forever.
For all the advantages that were publicised, there appeared a sinister downside.
Heptosh's father, a university professor named Dr. Nashtep, was one of the first to have major doubts regarding the process. Heptosh had accompanied his father as a pupil and remembered the discussions they had. One of his friends, a doctor, while closely observing the human psyche during the last stages of the transformation, noted what he was sure indicated the death of the human personality that originally animated the body. Others of their friends, including other professors, doctors, art and literary critics, had also noticed disturbing changes in the personality before and after. They became convinced that the human soul did not survived a complete bionic transformation. The bionic humanoid was no more than a non-sentient artificial intelligence storing the memory that used to belong to the soul.
What was left was a good representation of a human personality, enough to fool many. Playwrights and storytellers continued producing stories, sometimes more furiously than ever. However, as time went by, and the demand grew for new types of plots or literary styles, only non-bionic human artists were able to adapt. Bionics couldn't keep up with new trends.
Only certain ones noticed this. The masses only continued following the works of their favourites as long as they were popular. The fact that they were bionic only seemed to enhance their image. They never wondered, as the critics did, why they went from liking an old artist to a newly bionic one. If anything, society put that much more pressure on the more creative to accept a bionic implant. Refusal, in some cases, put artists on a blacklist.
Those who had undergone a complete transformation, the Total Bionics, insisted that everything was fine. They voiced strong opinions that they were the better for it, and did their utmost to influence yet more people to become host to a bionic cell. As their numbers grew, the dissenting voices became more and more marginalised. The Total Bionics continued to gain political clout, and before long, there was discussion about making a bionic implant mandatory for all citizens of Nefzed.
Because of the increasingly frequent food shortages, the idea of a body that didn't require food, gained all the more appeal. The working classes and the unemployed masses rallied for the legislation, which would mean they would get their implant for free. Farmers weren't as enthusiastic -- it would mean less demand for farm products -- but even they began to accept it as inevitable.
Dr. Nashtep and his circle of professionals formed the core of the dissenting party. They spoke out as loudly as they could, but there were backlashes. Mr. Takanen, a social commentator who had become a close friend, made a final impassioned plea that was heard planet-wide. Then he was soundly discredited, caricatured as a crackpot, and banished from the media. Heptosh, himself, vividly remembered the taunts by former playmates, the ostracism, the betrayals by ones he loved; and at the same time, the fear for the future -- his own and of humanity. Would he finally be forced to take an implant? Would his soul die at such a young age? Would this mean the extinction of the human race?
At first, it looked as though all the dissidents could do now was to ponder this question and wait for it to happen, or perhaps go into hiding. A limited number were exploring other avenues.
One of these included space travel. At first, that sounded like a pipe dream. Even though most of the population was aware that space travel existed, it wasn't an option that most thought likely. They knew that humanity wasn't birthed on Nefzed. Humans had to come from somewhere, and this presupposed space travel.
Dr. Nashtep was the expert in history, so he knew that space travel was a reality, only to be rediscovered. Once in Nefzed's history, a major portion of the population had to be shifted to a new planet. That was a long time ago, in the days of the ancient Nephteshi Interstellar Empire. Then, they had the capacity to build mini planets out of black holes. But that technology disappeared with the collapse of the great empire. Their only legacy: hundreds of artificial planets scattered throughout the galaxy, all populated to capacity. No one was building new planets any more.
But perhaps an empty planet wasn't necessary -- there weren't really that many dissidents. Where there any friendly planets out there that could take just a few more? They began to look at the options. Dr. Nashtep's brother-in-law Nagasha, an engineer, spearheaded in this operation.
They had to be discreet, as some of the powers-that-be were opposed to anyone seeking to leave. However, some of them were able to obtain the information that was available.
Another of their number, Mr. Vashkanen, had been a bureaucrat in the planetary government, and had opted to take retirement before his refusal to take an implant became an issue. Though bureaucrats and academics had always been at odds, it was his concern about bionic replication that brought him into their circle. Having once been high up in the government, he knew things that historians, like Dr. Nashtep, didn't. One of these was the fact that since the collapse of the Nephteshi empire, interplanetary travel throughout the galaxy was now regulated by the sector councils -- most representing species other than human.
The council for their part of the galaxy, the Ziern Sector, was primarily composed of Groki, a species that did everything in their power to discourage human space travel. They had an extensive knowledge of history, and some had even lived long enough to personally remember the Nephteshi empire -- that it had been a thorn in the side of all non-human species. The more they learned of the Ziern sector council, the more it became obvious that the Groki were supportive of mandatory bionic implants for humans. Other planets in the sector were in the same position as they.
This had never been a concern for most Nefzedis, as no one but government people had ever though it necessary to do any space travel. The government, knowing the perils, had always suppressed any ideas that would lead to people venturing to try. Mr. Vashkanen knew all about that, and in his career days, was party to it.
But this was a new day, with new dangers. Now, with Mr. Vashkanen's help, Nagasha's people were able to find some unused ships powered by logical relocators, the records of which had long faded from the inventory books of the planet's bureaucrats. These kinds of ships could simply relocate somewhere outside of the sector without being detected. They also gained access to a galactic map, which showed other sectors of the galaxy. Nagasha with a crew of four went off in search of a friendly planet. Though they travelled hundreds of light years, they kept in touch via twin particle communicators.
Tok, though administered by non-humans, offered the best prospect. The governors of that planet were a non-Groki species that tended to show sympathy toward humans. There was already a human community living there quite happily, an Akkadi speaking tribe. The governors, when they heard of the Nefzedi plight, extended them an invitation to relocate a portion of their human population there. Other planets in that sector were also found, with their help, and they sent giant ships to help with the move.
The exodus went on discreetly and took the bionic population by surprise. All non-bionic humans who wished to m
ove, gathered in a predetermined location. They communicated their coordinates to the Toki ships that were waiting in the upper atmosphere. They landed in stealth mode, brought them all on board and sped them across the galaxy to their new home.
That was a long time ago, when Heptosh was young. Most of the elders, including his father, Dr. Nashtep, his Uncle Nagasha and others were dead. Only Mr. Takanen was left of that group, having lived to an extraordinarily old age. Heptosh, himself, wasn't a young man anymore, though he remembered all of this as though it were yesterday.
Now, the original home planet of the Nefzedi was wholly inhabited by Total Bionics. No humans were left. Nefzedi humans were all living in the Noofrishi sector of the Galaxy. Their Toki hosts allowed them to administer their own affairs and they had relative freedom of travel within the sector in which they lived.
Now, perched in the cleft of the cliff overlooking Kalodzu City, he wondered. Did the same fate befall Kalodzu-land?
3
simple dwellings, the colour of the yellow brown earth
from which they are made
further on, yellow brown paths slope up the side of the mountain range
also yellow brown, except where interrupted by patches of green
near by, small children run, their naked skin matching the yellow brown earth
both through dirtiness and natural colour
their elders finish their chores, chat and enjoy the evening
as for the smells...
I can smell stew cooking behind Tee Maw's house. I hope someone has enough food left from their family meal for me. Uncle Zhue Paw usually has some but he always makes me wait until everyone else has eaten. Venerable Too Dha usually eats by himself, so he might have something.
Oh, no! Here comes that brat, Nyu.
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