Friday, September 28, 2012

Voices From The Planetside

"The moon keeps getting smaller every time I see it."

"Beats me, I no longer look at the moon," Aenepada said before returning to the tome he was reading.


"What's the use of looking when the sky is already flooded with lights?"

"You mean the floating cities?" Mamud sighed. "I sometimes envy those sky dwellers. The great mother said they used to live among us, but now..."

"Now what?"

"I doubt if they still know we exist." 

"I wonder how it feels like living there?" Aenepada stoked the fire pit before returning beside his companion. The wind blows, and came with it, the arctic chill which the ground dwellers have grown to live with.

"This cold spell used to take breaks, but now it goes on, like forever..."

"What do you mean?" It's Mamud's turn to put wood on to the fire pit.

"Winter comes and goes and the land returns to its verdant state. I remember growing vegetables under the sun."

"I don't believe you."

Mamud was too young to remember. He grew up seeing the lake frozen, and their fiber glass hut covered in thick blanket of snow. Sometimes, the hazy sun would appear, for very brief moments before it too disappears behind the wisps. The sun chasers, as Mamud's generation is called knew only of the moon and its faint glow. 

But most of them, including Aenepada have grown weary of the silvery orb. Instead, they fix their eyes to the passing floating cities and wish to become their inhabitants too.

But no one has ever become one. 

The young men, in their time of communion waited until the moon disappears on the horizon. The older one may have spent the night sleeping under the blanket of city lights, while his dreamy companion, curled beside him desired the stars. What they didn't know is that across the barren world, ground dwellers like them are dying out. Whispers tell of entire tribes suddenly disappearing, but village chieftains and town leaders dismiss this as lore.

After all, no longer do they speak to one another.

Meanwhile, beyond the floating cities and far out of the planet's orbit, the runaway moon begins to crumble. Entire landmasses sink beneath the surface. It cracks open, revealing an ancient machine only the eldest of the ground dwellers knew from their legends.

The massive artifact lays there motionless. Against the backdrop of stars and now without the moon to illuminate the heavens, Mamud and those on the planetside who still bother to look could catch it drifting aimlessly in space.