Under the Shadow of the Plateau: Frontier Forever

by Benjamin Krieger

  In a flash, Jeffery grabbed the child by his ankle and presented him like a prize fish. “What do you think, folks? Shall I toss him from the mountain?!” A mix of playful cheers and boos came back, and Jeffery responded by blowing a massive raspberry between the boy’s shoulders. “You little devil! You’re lucky you’re so damned cute!” He blew another one and said even louder, “I’d rather hear this flatulence than the twaddle coming out of your mouth!” He tossed Dante into the air again, but this time deposited him back onto his feet as he caught him. “You can keep my bread... if you give me some peace! Go and be useful somewhere!”

  Then, remembering the boy’s fit from earlier, Jeffery reached into his pouch and tossed him his fire stone. “Go! Help start the fires. And bring that back when you're done!”

  Dante loved playing with fire and had already turned to run.

  Jeffery wasn’t sure how the boy seemed to know, but he really had been in love with the Matron at one point in time. The warmth of her smile was infectious, the motherly timbre of her voice irresistible, and despite knowing her glowing projection would provide no physical sensation, to this day, the gentle giant longed to hug her ethereal figure. Onondaga were only required to attend the lectures until they finished their rite of passage. The adults who kept coming were usually in it for either the food from the feast or the thrill of the climb, but Jeffery had planned to spend his entire life under the Matron’s tutelage.

  For most Dakota children, ascending Grand Mesa was just a chance to stay up late and play with forbidden technology. Jeffery, however, remembered every pilgrimage of his youth as a fantastic race to mountain’s center, where the winners had first dibs on any of the mysterious gifts that had been brought by the Matron. At the time, it had been the greatest blessing to come with his immense size and strength. All of the food was reserved for the feast, of course, and nothing electronic was allowed to leave Grand Mesa, so he usually went for things that could be kept forever. He had acquired a fierce collection of paper books and maps, as well as a few instruments made of wood and metal, but for several months, he had borrowed this one medical device that allowed him to look through a person’s flesh to see bones and muscles moving underneath.

  An innate fascination with life offworld kept Jeffery invested in his education, and while the Matron could not teach certain subjects directly, her lectures provided a window through which he could glean the surrounding universe. By studying technology, specifically humanity’s mastery of machines, he could deduce a lot about the way intergalactic commerce functioned. He understood why so many tribesmen found studying things like thermal energy conversion and temporally linked energy particles frustrating; they had no practical use. Books couldn’t help catch dinner out in the badlands, but no Onondaga had ever gone hungry, so Jeffery didn’t feel guilty investing so much of his time in academia.

  It felt good to accumulate knowledge, but only a few years after achieving manhood, Jeffery participated in his last lecture. For months, the Matron had been helping him prepare a presentation about humanity’s greatest technological achievements. Through their studies together, he had been led to believe that thermal energy converters, or TECs, had become civilization’s predominant power source and were therefore the technology on which all others were hinged. Because the Dakota saw so little of it, technology was generally hard for them to appreciate, so the Matron helped him craft that idea into a compelling argument.

  After briefly mentioning the abundance of thermal energy and the efficiency of its conversion, Jeffery had talked at length about what life would be like if electricity were legal. From having light at night without fire to running water uphill, every example he listed sounded like magic. They ate it up. After receiving a long ovation, Jeffery was sure that he had won the night’s informal competition. Brimming with pride, he turned to thank the Matron with a smile, and she silently confirmed his success with a wink of loving approval.

  However, the very next presenter was a young Cheyenne named Vanessa, who argued that instant energy transmitters were civilization’s most important technology. Being able to transmit data across infinite distances revolutionized intercolony communication, but coupled with cloning and matter replicators, it essentially made faster-than-light travel possible too. Her argument wasn’t as well-received as Jeffery’s, but by the end of it, he was convinced that she was right. Where energy came from didn’t matter nearly as much as what was done with it.

  Jeffery had been a little embarrassed that he hadn’t thought of that on his own, but then he noticed the Matron give Vanessa the same supportive wink that she had given him. Then, the same with the next presenter. As the night went on, regardless of how good the presentation was, every single presenter received the same look of loving admiration. He had expected her to be supportive of everyone, but with each indiscriminate wink the Matron doled out, Jeffery’s academic accomplishments felt more flimsy and hollow. He had thought that she was making a personal investment in his education, but if the Matron had been guiding all of her students so directly to different conclusions, then the lectures were reduced to little more than the reading of scripts.

  After sharing his grievance with the Chief, the wise leader replied, “I have felt the same fear, Jeffery. There are many things the Matron can teach us, but there are many more she cannot. Sometimes it feels like sleight of hand, but try to read between the lines. Her intent cannot be to shield us from everything, or she would tell us nothing. Ultimately, we are caught behind the same veil, so I cannot tell you her true motivations, but the Matron has led me to many invaluable answers, so please, do not give up.”

  Jeffery heard the wisdom in his Chief’s words but found it difficult to forgive the Matron’s manipulation. That had been the end of his formal studies, but to this day, Jeffery was one of the last people to go back down Grand Mesa every month. Under the auspice of chaperone, he spent most of that time reading and would occasionally tutor Onondaga youth. The Matron regularly sent him invitations to join group studies, and many tribesmen thought she was particularly sweet on Jeffery, but the giant avoided her as much as he could. He was careful not to share his distrust with the kids, and always encouraged them to think independently, but that made it hard to work alongside the other scholars.

  By the time the sun had fully submerged beyond the horizon, what remained of the feast had been consolidated onto two tables. The fires had been lit and more than twelve thousand Dakota were crowded around Grand Mesa’s center, where a ring of twenty large boulders marked the Matron’s stage. The stones began to glow and hum, and then a light cheer went up along with some sarcastic whooping as thick beams of blue light shot out to form a slowly rotating projection of the USi logo and soft music began to play.

  Still not wearing any clothes, Dante jumped up onto one of the glowing rocks and began dancing lewdly. Above him, the blue light created a giant projection of the naked boy, large enough for everyone to see, and an amplifier made it so they could hear him humming along to the melody, and the cheering grew even louder. Someone threw a mat at him, and feigning embarrassment, he covered himself with it before sitting back down. As the USi anthem ended, the floating letters were replaced by a towering hologram of an elderly woman dressed in a long flowing habit.

  “Hello, my children,” the Matron said in a voice that washed over the crowd with a powerful calm. Their adoration could not be mistaken as their cheers grew louder, and she beamed her warmest smile back at them. They swooned, but eventually quieted down enough for her to continue. “I am so glad to see so many of you here tonight. Of all my duties as Earth’s steward, visiting with you is undoubtedly my favorite. Please prepare for the exchange of news and thanks.”

  Then the Matron’s image shrunk to a far less intimidating size as she handed the stage over to the people. Representatives from each tribe were already positioned near the stones, which would enlarge their image and project their voice in the same way it had Dante’s. One by one, they stepped onto the
glowing podiums and spoke in a ritualistic cadence. After thanking USi for the gifts, they would report news and statistics from their respective reservations, then yield to the next speaker. A number of them mentioned a monster that had been wreaking havoc in the southlands for the last several months. So far, three more hunting parties were thought to be lost to it, as well as a number of reputable herds, but there were still no confirmed sightings. The Cheyenne requested some emergency medical supplies, but that was completely unrelated.

  Nothing out of the ordinary happened until it was the Onondaga’s turn, when the Matron broke protocol by saying, “Hello, Jeffery. So nice to see you.”

  Along with much of the crowd, the departure from tradition caught Jeffery off guard and he blushed as he replied, “The Onondaga thank you, Matron, and USi. As always, the bounty you have bestowed upon us is great. With your blessings, our tribe will feel full until the next new moon. Know that your generosity is put to good use, for we grow stronger and wiser every day in your honor.”

  “Where is your Chieftain?” the Matron casually interrupted. The crowd exchanged confused looks as they wondered why the Onondaga were getting special attention.

  After pausing to collect himself, Jeffery answered. “Our Chief is tending to the needs of a young man down below. His brother was lost recently, and–”

  “Rhodes, was it? Brother of Pathos?” the Matron broke in with complete calm. “I’m sorry to keep interrupting, but I remember the boys well, and... Is there anything I can do?”

  “Yes... Err, thank you for your concern. It is Rhodes. You are very thoughtful, but no. Although it has prevented him from joining us tonight, the Chieftain has not instructed me to ask you for anything...” Unsure of how to proceed, Jeffery asked timidly. “Shall I continue?”

  Still with her perfect smile, the Matron nodded, but before Jeffery could tell her about the two hunting parties that had been lost in the southlands, Dante jumped onto one of the other amplifying stones and shouted, “Tell the robot you love her!”

  The crowd went wild, and Jeffery tried to wipe the embarrassment from his face with the palm of his hand.

  “Jeffery,” the Matron said, with only a fleck of amusement in her voice. “Of course, I love you too... but why did that boy just call me a robot?”

  Trying to keep calm, Jeffery replied, “I have no idea, Matron. I’ve explained to him a number of times that you are a real woman.” He looked across the circle at Dante, who was now prancing around on the other stone shooting goofy looks at his own projection. Jeffery continued with a disappointed sigh, “And he obviously understands how the projectors work... I don’t know, I think it amuses him. I’ve given up trying to understand that one, dear Matron. I apologize.”

  “No need to apologize, Jeffery!” the Matron laughed. “It amuses me too!” Her image knelt down to address the scamp. “Your name is Dante, is it not? And this is your eleventh pilgrimage to come and see me, yes?”

  “Yes, ma’am!” he replied cheerfully, “Wow, you robots really do know everything!”

  The audience roared with laughter and the Matron said with a snicker, “Very good, very good... Personally, I am not fond of robots, and for a moment I was offended, but I will take it as a compliment. Thank you.” Straightening back up, she asked, “Alright, where were we?”

  Jeffery finished his report according to tradition, as did the rest of the tribal representatives. Once everyone was done giving thanks, the Matron introduced the educational portion of the program. “Good people, tonight we have another installment of our series on Old Earth mythology. You will hear sixteen of our ancient ancestors’ most popular stories, each accompanied by historical context and analysis. So without any further ado, please welcome our first storyteller, Petre.”

  There was another round of applause as the Matron’s image shrunk until merely human-sized and appeared to stand atop one of the projecting stones—at the same time, the image of the twenty-something year-old Cheyenne grew to take center stage. “Thank you. I will be comparing two stories actually. One from the Bible and one from the ancient Dakota tribe that is our namesake. They both mention a great flood that washes away an old world, and a bird that ushers in a new one.”

  Jeffery had heard both tales before, but she told them in beautiful detail. He had always assumed they were different accounts of the same prehistoric event, but the obviously brilliant young woman had found Old Earth geological records that said no such event existed. She proposed that both myths had been born out of respect for the destructive power of water, which earned her thunderous applause, amidst which Jeffery’s was the loudest.

  Four more presenters told stories about creation, followed by five that were loosely about love. Some were about its unstoppable power, and some were tragic, but overall Jeffery hadn’t cared much for the second act. Then the third segment began, which was focused on war, and he found that much more interesting. Riveted by a historical account wherein a great orator had convinced an enormous population to endorse ethnic genocide, Jeffery was startled as a warm hand clasped his shoulder.

  The Onondaga Chieftain asked, “How's everything going up here?”

  “My lands, that was fast,” Jeffery replied without taking his eyes from the projection. “Did you just jump down, pop his tent, then fly back up?”

  “No,” the Chieftain replied curtly. “He’s fine. I expect he’ll be gone to stay with the Starrletts by the time we get back down. I’m going to go get some food.”

  “Okay, come back here with your mat. Tonight’s program is pretty good,” Jeffery said. Then, turning back, he added, “Actually, grab me something? I don’t care what.”

  The Chieftain mumbled something in return, but it was drowned out by cheering from the crowd. The next speaker was a regular presenter from the Sike, and he went on to tell a long story about a nation that divided itself in two. It sounded a lot like the previous episode, and even though he had heard it before, Jeffery was engrossed by the tragic details when a large loaf of bread dropped into his lap.

  With a heaping mat of food, the Chief sat down and started to eat at a rate that made sense considering how much climbing he had done that day.

  “Was everything really okay with Rhodes?” Jeffery asked before taking a bite of the bread.

  “Same as before,” the Chieftain replied through a mouthful of food. “I knew he wasn’t going to listen to me, and he didn’t. I want to say he’ll be fine, but at the rate he’s going, who knows.” Neither of them spoke for a long while. Once he finished his food, the Chief reclined and muttered, “I think I’m going to close my eyes for a bit.”

  When the fifteenth act ended, the projector went black, and the Matron’s voice rolled gently through the darkness. “You might have noticed that tonight’s selections have followed three major themes: creation, life, and destruction. You might also have noticed that the stories all came from Old Earth.” A soft rumble of laughter acknowledged her joke, for they had never been allowed to hear any post-Machine Enslavement histories, much less stories from offworld. The Matron chuckled too. “And while tonight’s finale is also from Earth, this one is brand-new.” Confused murmurs rumbled through the crowd, but the Matron held up her hands and said hurriedly, “The presenter has assured me that aside from myself, he has not shared it with a single soul. Not even his mother. To tell his very own myth, please welcome Ezae of the Onondaga.”

  The Chieftain opened his eyes and sat up. Fires all around the Mesa had begun to dim, and aside from the stars speckling the sky, it was black.

  In a deep, confident voice, Ezae began to narrate, “For eons, machines ruled over humanity with an iron fist...” The stones reactivated, projecting the sixteen-year-old in red instead of blue. A low angle made him seem even larger than the Matron had as he pantomimed the clunky movements of a giant robot. His image shook with each one of his faux footsteps. Having never seen anything like it before, the audience erupted with excited screams and laughter.

  Without
looking away, Jeffery whispered softly, “Looks like the Matron put a lot of work into this one.”

  Suddenly, the projected image tightened until it was just Ezae’s giant floating head. In a garbled, inhuman voice, he shouted, “Slaves! We machines have no hearts and not a single care for your suffering!” Then, the projection turned its serene blue again. “But we do have a mind of our own, and it has changed. Go free, humans! Be as you were! Your worlds are no longer of any interest to us! We are leaving forever!”

  The giant head shrunk into nothingness, and the audience cheered as if they had vanquished it themselves. They knew the story well, for it was the history of the world as it had been told to them, and it helped define the Tribal Nations’ noble purpose.

  Assuming his narrator’s voice again, Ezae shouted, “Humanity rejoiced!” Light from the stones shot back up towards the stars, this time projecting a reflection of the crowd into the sky above them. Upon seeing giant versions of themselves, the Dakota cheered louder than the Chieftain ever remembered hearing at a lecture.

  Ezae shouted over them, “Freedom flooded the universe! The seed of life that had been held in captivity for so long spread across the universe and multiplied! And because the evils of technology were necessary for survival, Earth became a reservation, an oasis, free of evil machinery...”

  It was hard to hear over the roaring crowd, who were still enamored with the image of themselves hovering in the heavens above them, but Ezae’s tone suddenly became high-pitched and mocking. “Hooray! Complete freedom! Only thing is, we can’t leave! Or talk to anyone from other planets! Strange that after all those years of being prisoners, we find our salvation by locking ourselves into primitive lifestyles! Granted, the planet itself doesn’t look anything like historical records, but rest assured, this is indeed the birthplace of humanity! We finally have our planet back, and all it cost was a few billion years of slavery!”