Warblegrub and the Forbidden Planet, page 7
In an instant, Shmi ventured deep into her memories and saw a child, sitting on her mother’s lap. She felt a terrible sense of loss. There were flames, flashing lights and screaming sirens, but the memory of what followed was buried very deep and Shmi knew that uncovering it might harm Alex. It had, however, been many years since she had encountered a human and she was unable to resist other, less painful memories. Deepest and happiest were the stories Alex’s mother had told her as they passed the long, cold nights together in the cheerless depths of space; stories collected from all over Earth and passed down the generations, many of which Shmi had also heard.
One story in particular was a favourite of them both, and her mother’s voice was as clear in Alex’s memory as if she were present: “The Universe came into existence when two opposing forces were balanced. One was female, the other male, and together they created all the opposites that make up the Universe: light and dark, fire and ice, good and evil, and so on. In the beginning the two opposing forces – Yin and Yang – were bound together inside the Cosmic Egg, but there came a time when their struggle caused the Egg to crack and split and the giant Pangu emerged. He grew and grew, pushing apart the earth and the sky, and lived for thousands of years. When he died, his body formed the world: his bones became rock, his flesh soil, his hair the plants, and the fleas and lice – the parasites that lived off him – became humans....”
“What are you doing?” demanded Alex.
“I’m so sorry!” Shmi apologised, withdrawing immediately. “I’d forgotten humans like privacy.” In the awkward silence, she turned to the she-wolf and the infants again. “Did you know that one of those little twins – Romulus – founded a mighty city and his descendants ruled half the world?”
“What about Remus?”
Shmi frowned. “Romulus killed him.”
Quickly changing the subject, Alex pointed to a life-sized statue of a kneeling man. “He looks like a soldier. Is there something missing from his hands?”
“A crossbow; he was an archer, one of an army of such statues; great companies of infantry and cavalry – even chariots – buried with the mad ruler of another vast empire. When he died, he planned to invade Heaven with his terracotta warriors, to cast down the gods and make himself ruler of all realms!”
“Do you think I’m proud to belong to such an appalling species?”
“It can’t be easy,” Shmi sympathised, “but you are human and unfortunately that does make you part of the problem.”
“The problem?”
“What to do with a species like yours, that refuses to behave sensibly.”
“But we’re not all guilty….”
“Not equally guilty,” Shmi conceded, “but you are all responsible and you will stand or fall together.”
Alex was crestfallen.
“Don’t be too downhearted. You aren’t all bad – look at all these beautiful things you made!”
The lights grew brighter and once again Alex’s heart skipped a beat. The whole collection of artefacts appeared to be works of art and she was stunned by the incredible skill with which they had been wrought.
“I prefer the truly ancient ones,” said Shmi, picking up a small ivory carving of two deer, one following the other. “See, their heads and antlers are thrown back as if they’re swimming.
Alex was indeed astonished at the skill of the ancient craftsman.
“It was made with the most primitive of tools,” Shmi continued, “and it’s as fine as anything else in this collection, almost all of which it predates by millennia.”
“What is this place?” marvelled Alex, looking round.
“My husband’s collection; he calls it the ‘Museum of Mankind’!” Shmi sighed. “And this is just the stuff he hasn’t sorted yet!”
“Where is your husband?”
“He’s trying to save your friends.”
“And what can we do to help?”
Shmi smiled and took Alex’s hand. “Come with me,” she said, and led her through a maze created by statues, display cases and mounds of artefacts.
“It’s incredible,” gasped Alex.
“It takes up a lot of space!”
The next room was a gallery of paintings, all properly displayed and subtly lit. The selection of pictures, however, was bizarre; soft pastel paintings of water lilies hung next to strange blocks of primary colours, and gorgeous landscapes were juxtaposed with abstract portraits of tortured figures. Though Alex would have loved to have lingered among the paintings, Shmi was evidently in a hurry and after several more galleries of artefacts and artwork, a library and a small cinema – with a selection of Warblegrub’s favourite movies on offer – they stopped in front of a plain white door.
“What’s in here?”
“The rest of the Universe,” replied Shmi, and opened the door.
*
Shoals of fish and schools of dolphins and whales fled the sleek black leviathan as it sped over undersea mountains, coral reefs and forests of seaweed. And while the Colonel and the Science Officer steered through the murky depths, the soldiers cramped in the dimly lit crew’s quarters mourned yet more comrades. Sergeant 236 could see that fear had taken hold in everyone; their long-lost home had become a death trap and, though discipline still held, they were close to breaking.
“How’re they doing?” the Colonel asked when she joined him in the Operations Room. But there was little concern in his voice and his eyes remained on the tablet.
She felt a sudden flush of anger. “Scared!”
He looked up sharply. “Is anyone losing it?”
“‘Losing it’?”
“Is anyone cracking?”
236 was speechless.
“Well?”
Keeping her anger in check, she shook her head.
“Make sure they know the penalty for failing to do their duty!” the Colonel reminded her sternly.
“It won’t come to that!”
He caught the tone in her voice. “See that it doesn’t!”
Equally worried, 395 felt the Colonel’s eyes boring into him and was fortunate that the current program finished running just then.
“Nuclear weapons armed and guidance systems functioning; all systems are under our control, Sir.”
“Whose control?”
“Your control, Sir.”
“Good! Now let’s take a look at our destination.”
“The satellite sent us pictures of the region before we dived,” said 395. He displayed an image of the archipelago, focusing on a large crescent-shaped island that was part of a ring of islands around an almost perfect circle of sea. “It’s an old volcano,” he explained. “The eruption must’ve been massive, as you can see from the remains of the caldera.”
“Caldera?”
“The crater. This whole circle of sea in the centre is the flooded crater.”
The Sergeant whistled. “It’s gigantic!”
“Now look at this.” He traced a faint plume of smoke rising in the middle of the bay. When he enlarged the picture, they saw a new volcano venting smoke and gas.
“A chip off the old block!” observed the Colonel wryly.
395 laughed awkwardly and enlarged the image of the deep-space transmitter on the summit of the main island. “Structure seems intact.”
The Sergeant sighed with relief. “Then we can call for help!”
“You mean summon reinforcements!” the Colonel reminded her.
She apologized and saluted smartly, which seemed to satisfy him.
“Take us deeper, S.O.,” he ordered. “Maximum speed – let’s see what this tub can do.”
As the submarine dived deeper, 395 and the Sergeant steadied themselves against the consoles while the Colonel held on to one of the periscopes. The Sergeant’s anxiety mounted as the vessel began to creak and groan alarmingly.
“It’s just water pressure on the hull,” explained 395.
“Then it’s normal?”
He grinned. “I hope so.”
At last the submarine levelled out and, with the drone of its engines carrying far through the ocean where no such sound had been heard for decades, the metal leviathan sped on.
Chapter Twelve
Alex looked round for some point of reference but all she could see were stars. She looked up – there were stars. She looked down – there were stars. She began to panic, her breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps.
Shmi squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry, I’m with you!”
“What’s happening?”
“Nothing dangerous; I’ve things to do, that’s all.”
“Where are we?”
“Anywhere I need to be.”
Alex was incredulous. “Are you and Warblegrub… gods?”
“I suppose you might call us that – many used to – but I’ve never liked the term; makes you humans think we’re responsible for you!”
Alex looked terrified.
“Just relax dear,” Shmi advised her, “you’re perfectly safe. Whatever I am or am not, the Universe places a great deal of trust in me.”
Reassured by Shmi’s gentle hand on her arm, Alex began to breathe more easily. She was starting to relax when Shmi turned her round. An enormous planet was spinning towards them at colossal speed and before she could cry out, they plunged into its atmosphere. When she stopped gasping and spluttering, she found herself flying through a purple sky streaked with clouds of blue and turquoise.
“How come I’m breathing here – and in space too?”
“I’m not as tightly bound by the physical laws that govern the Universe as you are,” Shmi explained. “I go where I’m needed and at the moment you’re under my protection.”
Alex realised this was the closest she was likely to get to a satisfactory explanation and was soon revelling in the experience of flying without an aircraft. She let go of Shmi’s hand and soared like a bird over the turquoise clouds, climbing ever higher until she saw a rash of stars across a deep purple sky.
“We’re here to find some friends,” said Shmi, shepherding her down to the glassy surface of a bright green ocean.
They flew back and forth until Shmi saw a little cluster of bubbles rising nearby. As they circled the disturbance, the bubbles came in a rush, a rainbow erupted and a jellysquid leapt shimmering into the air. It wrapped its tentacles around Shmi, blazed with colour and emitted a strange humming noise, musical and enchanting.
All around them the surface of the ocean began to bubble and boil, and, to Alex’s astonishment, dozens upon dozens of jellysquids launched themselves into the sky. The first broke contact with Shmi and followed the others, and they soared away into the clouds. As Shmi and Alex left the planet behind, they saw the beautiful orb of swirling purple, green and blue go spinning on into space, propelling jellysquids on their own interstellar journey.
“We encountered one of them guarding the planet….” Alex began then remembered its destruction with embarrassment. “What are they?”
“Forgive me,” Shmi apologized, “but the need to name everything is a very human habit. Call them whatever you like. They’re particularly useful when cleaning up after you humans, absorbing much of the negativity you create.”
“Negativity?”
“Physical pollution isn’t our only problem; there’s also the pain and suffering you inflicted.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your wretched species’ history has been very violent, and all that cruelty left its own mark on your planet and its other inhabitants.” Shmi could see that Alex was struggling with the idea. “Just enjoy the sights dear,” she advised, patting her on the head.
Travelling faster than any spacecraft, they passed countless stars, roaming comets, a nebula where stars were born and a kaleidoscope of extraordinary galaxies. Overwhelmed by the beauty of an immense spiral system sailing past, its hub blazing with a million suns, Alex burst into tears.
Shmi was delighted and turned aside. “If you think that’s amazing you must see this!”
“Have we got time for a detour?”
“Just a quick one,” Shmi replied, and made for a large belt of asteroids orbiting a lone star.
As they drew near, Alex could see many of the asteroids were connected by a web of thick white strands and searched anxiously for the spider.
“There isn’t one,” Shmi laughed. “You’re quite safe,” she assured her and they dived down through the ring of rock and dust.
As they passed close to one of the strands Alex saw faint pulses of light travelling along it.
“Who made the cables?” she asked.
“They’re not cables; it’s a living organism – a single entity – that grows here.”
“Among the asteroids! In space!”
“You humans used to believe life existed only on your world,” Shmi reminded her, “and how wrong you were!”
A series of very bright lights pulsed along the nearest strand and Alex was transfixed as they spread throughout the web. “What are the lights?”
“Thoughts, ideas, images; they’re communicating with each other.”
Alex looked confused. “You just said it’s 'a single entity’!”
Shmi nodded.
“Then you said 'they are'!”
Shmi remembered how difficult it was to explain things to humans. Most other species avoided contact with them, so they had had very little experience of the wider Universe and thought in very simplistic terms – what was singular or plural, what was real or unreal, what was possible or impossible. “It’s both one and many,” Shmi replied, “which is a lesson your species must learn before it’s too late.”
Before Alex could ask another question she put a finger to her lips and silenced her. “This one’s still very young,” she told her in a hushed voice, “barely a million years old.”
A sudden flurry of pulses illuminated the whole web at once and Shmi’s smile was radiant. “To ears that can hear, that’s the most beautiful song in the Universe!”
It took Alex a moment to process this information. “It sings!”
“The frequency’s too high for your ears.”
“But it sings?!”
“Of course, singing and dancing are what life’s about – a song and dance of life and death!”
“And this creature survives in an asteroid field?”
“Life takes root in any nook and cranny it can find!”
Leaving the asteroid belt and its fantastic denizen, they came to a system dense with planets, bathed in the light of a gigantic red sun.
“The star is becoming a supernova,” said Shmi. “This and all the other planets orbiting it are doomed.”
They entered the atmosphere of one of the smaller planets and found it thick with smoke, dust and choking vapours, but Shmi seemed to know where she was going. They flew down into the fumes and Alex glimpsed something ahead of them – a bird, a very big, brightly coloured bird. They followed it deeper into the atmosphere until they saw a strange craft ahead. As they drew near, they saw it was in fact a floating disc on which grew a small copse of trees with huge shady leaves. Several trees had been bent over to form shelters, and red sunlight glinted on the domed force field protecting the settlement from the fierce heat. Glancing round in wonder, Alex saw more such settlements floating among the clouds.
Other birds emerged from the shelters and greeted their returning friend with shrill whistles, clicks and phrases of warbling song. Golden feathered, they had green crests that rose when they bobbed their heads but Alex shuddered at their fearsome, hooked beaks. Then she noticed with amazement that they had human arms and legs.
“What on Earth are they?”
“We’re not on Earth,” Shmi reminded her, “but they’re a gentle, enlightened species; content to fish, sing and soar on the wind.”
Flying on, they came upon a very large disc, still mostly hidden in the clouds. Only when they were circling over the settlement, did Alex realise it was the size of a small city. Most of the trees were bent into shelters but here and there copses had been allowed to grow to their full height and their branches provided perches for many birdpeople.
“Why are they watching the sun?” asked Alex, shading her eyes.
Shmi pointed to a small dot in front of the swollen star. “You see that little planet?”
No sooner had Alex located it than it began to disappear. Vanishing momentarily, it reappeared briefly as a yellow dot before it was swallowed by the expanding star.
“In just a short time, that will happen here. This once beautiful planet will….” Shmi mimed the explosion with her hands.
“How sad!”
“The Universe is a dangerous place; you humans would do well to remember how fragile life is!”
“But why are they watching? Shouldn’t they…I mean shouldn’t we help them?”
“That’s why we’re here,” replied Shmi, a little tersely, “but it’s we who need their help.”
As they passed through the force field, Alex felt only the slightest tingling sensation. They landed beside an enormous thatched dome, encircled by dozens of trees that had grown taller than any others. Inside the dome, they were greeted by a company of birdpeople who, at a minimum of two meters tall, towered over them. They were gathered round a birdwoman with a crest of long feathers, each painted a different colour. She was seated on an elegant wooden throne and Shmi bowed low before her. Alex quickly copied her. The Birdqueen rose and greeted Shmi with a short, sad warbling song and Shmi replied in kind.
“Our beautiful world is dying, old friend!” said the Birdqueen forlornly, and began to weep, tears rolling down her feathery cheeks.
Shmi wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged her, and all the birdpeople wept. Alex stood there, feeling awkward, as their grief poured out, then Shmi let go and the Birdqueen dried her eyes with her wings.
