And Dust You Shall Eat
As the Ovule fell away from the Seedship, Aden was presented with what was certainly the most spectacular sight of his short existence. He possessed very few experiences at this point and the embedded memories had not yet taken root, yet there was something awe inspiring about the vision of this new world that hung in space before him, the penumbra of its star striking out from the planet's rim with a glorious brilliance.
He turned his head to face Evelyn webbed into her couch alongside his own, his eyes tracing the path of a tear and the resultant streak across her right cheek.
"It's so bright!" she gasped.
He reached out to take her hand in his own, surprised at how naturally the urge to do so had arisen within him, "It's our home," he said, attempting to reassure her.
The membrane that extended out from beneath the viewing panel before them began to pulse with a warm orange glow and the dark veins that were woven through it and all about them responded with a resonating throb.
"It's time," Aden announced unnecessarily, as they reached out their hands to grasp the membranous console and link their minds. Together they would make the decision as to where they would descend. It would be a choice based on only limited information and through their conditioning they held a certain disregard for the possible consequences. They were but one seed of many. Some would succeed whilst others would fail.
The various landmasses spread out before them had each been named and these were displayed for their information. Aden felt his mind being tugged, presumably by Evelyn, towards the one place that they knew they were to avoid - the red-tagged island designated as 'Apple', named for its approximate shape.
Although he deferred naturally towards his partner and future mate - after all, she was fourth generation to his third, he asserted himself and insistantly dragged their attention away from the island and focussed it instead upon a nearby archipelago labelled 'Haven'.
She glanced at him, failing to mask the feelings of guilt that he was picking up on through their mutual connection, "I was just looking...".
"I know," once more he sought to assure her of his support, "but look there, Haven feels right for us, don't you agree?"
She smiled warmly, causing his own aprehensions to melt away, "Yes, it looks wonderful."
* * *
Aden sat, sweat soaked and satisfied, upon the stack of carefully cut timber with which he would construct their first shelter. He looked across the expanse of golden sand to where she stood in the frothing surf, the fronds she had collected clutched to her chest, her attention seemingly fixed upon the horizon and the distant cliffs of that island, the Apple.
He was concerned by this for reasons he could not define, but he brushed the feeling aside, instead rising to make his way to where the Ovule lay nestled amongst the higher dunes, in the shadows of the front line of vegetation. It would suckle them for more than a hundred days should they need it, yet he was firm in his resolve to quickly establish their self-sufficience.
Later, having taken sustenance from the Ovule's nipples, they lay together within their half built structure, glad of the warm and gentle breeze that blew in from the sea.
"We must search for fresh water in the morning," he stated.
"Of course," she answered, "we can traverse the coast, perhaps in seperate directions, to save time."
He lay silently for a short while, that same insistent doubt nagging at him still, before replying, "yes, that's a good idea."
* * *
He came upon the stream mid-morning and, having filled the water pouch, headed back with a spring in his step, pleased with himself and eager to share his discovery with Evelyn.
An hour later, having clambered over the rocky outcropping that led back to their landing site, he called out her name, expecting that she would have returned before him. There was a wrongness here however, something amiss that he did not instantly identify. As realisation dawned upon him he was overcome with disbelief. He found himself pacing back and forth across the space which the Ovule had previously occupied. It was, most certainly, gone, and with it, surely, Evelyn had gone also.
Knowing not what else he could do, he slumped to the sand and sat there, waiting.
* * *
He was woken a little before dawn by the sounds of a craft landing close by. He pushed himself up hurriedly, full of questions. It was indeed an Ovule, but it was not their Ovule, he knew so instinctively.
Its aperture was open and a softly glowing amber light enticed him from within.
* * *
The landscape of the moon was a stark contrast to what they had so recently experienced upon the world that now hung in the sky above them. It was mostly barren, only the hardiest of plants clinging to the jagged rocks in a meagre existence that spoke volumes about what now lay before them.
"I am sorry," Evelyn said once more.
"I know," he spoke resignedly into the thin dry air, "I just don't understand why."
"I was inquisitive," she replied, "there was just something about the place, something that I could not resist."
"The fact that it was forbidden, maybe?" he censured himself for his sharpness.
"More than that, I believe."
"Then tell me, please. What was it that you found there, upon this Apple? For what have you surrendered our life together there?" he gestured to the blue-green world that had reached its apogee.
"There was..." she began, "a township. There were many dwellings. They were ancient," she turned to face him, "yet amongst them lay the remains of its inhabitants."
"Human?"
She nodded. Aden pondered over the information, "so we were not the first there."
"They failed, Aden. There were many hundreds of them, but it appeared that none survived," she paused. "Some of the bodies were entagled together, almost like lovers, yet..."
"Yet what?"
"It was as if they had destroyed each other."
"What!" he was stunned, "killed each other? Humans killing humans? You're wrong, surely!"
"I know only what I saw."
"What you were not meant to see, you mean," he looked about him, at the bleakness that stretched to the far horizon, "and here is our punishment. To eke out our survival, if we can, whilst gazing forever upon what could have been."
He turned his head to face Evelyn webbed into her couch alongside his own, his eyes tracing the path of a tear and the resultant streak across her right cheek.
"It's so bright!" she gasped.
He reached out to take her hand in his own, surprised at how naturally the urge to do so had arisen within him, "It's our home," he said, attempting to reassure her.
The membrane that extended out from beneath the viewing panel before them began to pulse with a warm orange glow and the dark veins that were woven through it and all about them responded with a resonating throb.
"It's time," Aden announced unnecessarily, as they reached out their hands to grasp the membranous console and link their minds. Together they would make the decision as to where they would descend. It would be a choice based on only limited information and through their conditioning they held a certain disregard for the possible consequences. They were but one seed of many. Some would succeed whilst others would fail.
The various landmasses spread out before them had each been named and these were displayed for their information. Aden felt his mind being tugged, presumably by Evelyn, towards the one place that they knew they were to avoid - the red-tagged island designated as 'Apple', named for its approximate shape.
Although he deferred naturally towards his partner and future mate - after all, she was fourth generation to his third, he asserted himself and insistantly dragged their attention away from the island and focussed it instead upon a nearby archipelago labelled 'Haven'.
She glanced at him, failing to mask the feelings of guilt that he was picking up on through their mutual connection, "I was just looking...".
"I know," once more he sought to assure her of his support, "but look there, Haven feels right for us, don't you agree?"
She smiled warmly, causing his own aprehensions to melt away, "Yes, it looks wonderful."
* * *
Aden sat, sweat soaked and satisfied, upon the stack of carefully cut timber with which he would construct their first shelter. He looked across the expanse of golden sand to where she stood in the frothing surf, the fronds she had collected clutched to her chest, her attention seemingly fixed upon the horizon and the distant cliffs of that island, the Apple.
He was concerned by this for reasons he could not define, but he brushed the feeling aside, instead rising to make his way to where the Ovule lay nestled amongst the higher dunes, in the shadows of the front line of vegetation. It would suckle them for more than a hundred days should they need it, yet he was firm in his resolve to quickly establish their self-sufficience.
Later, having taken sustenance from the Ovule's nipples, they lay together within their half built structure, glad of the warm and gentle breeze that blew in from the sea.
"We must search for fresh water in the morning," he stated.
"Of course," she answered, "we can traverse the coast, perhaps in seperate directions, to save time."
He lay silently for a short while, that same insistent doubt nagging at him still, before replying, "yes, that's a good idea."
* * *
He came upon the stream mid-morning and, having filled the water pouch, headed back with a spring in his step, pleased with himself and eager to share his discovery with Evelyn.
An hour later, having clambered over the rocky outcropping that led back to their landing site, he called out her name, expecting that she would have returned before him. There was a wrongness here however, something amiss that he did not instantly identify. As realisation dawned upon him he was overcome with disbelief. He found himself pacing back and forth across the space which the Ovule had previously occupied. It was, most certainly, gone, and with it, surely, Evelyn had gone also.
Knowing not what else he could do, he slumped to the sand and sat there, waiting.
* * *
He was woken a little before dawn by the sounds of a craft landing close by. He pushed himself up hurriedly, full of questions. It was indeed an Ovule, but it was not their Ovule, he knew so instinctively.
Its aperture was open and a softly glowing amber light enticed him from within.
* * *
The landscape of the moon was a stark contrast to what they had so recently experienced upon the world that now hung in the sky above them. It was mostly barren, only the hardiest of plants clinging to the jagged rocks in a meagre existence that spoke volumes about what now lay before them.
"I am sorry," Evelyn said once more.
"I know," he spoke resignedly into the thin dry air, "I just don't understand why."
"I was inquisitive," she replied, "there was just something about the place, something that I could not resist."
"The fact that it was forbidden, maybe?" he censured himself for his sharpness.
"More than that, I believe."
"Then tell me, please. What was it that you found there, upon this Apple? For what have you surrendered our life together there?" he gestured to the blue-green world that had reached its apogee.
"There was..." she began, "a township. There were many dwellings. They were ancient," she turned to face him, "yet amongst them lay the remains of its inhabitants."
"Human?"
She nodded. Aden pondered over the information, "so we were not the first there."
"They failed, Aden. There were many hundreds of them, but it appeared that none survived," she paused. "Some of the bodies were entagled together, almost like lovers, yet..."
"Yet what?"
"It was as if they had destroyed each other."
"What!" he was stunned, "killed each other? Humans killing humans? You're wrong, surely!"
"I know only what I saw."
"What you were not meant to see, you mean," he looked about him, at the bleakness that stretched to the far horizon, "and here is our punishment. To eke out our survival, if we can, whilst gazing forever upon what could have been."