by Stephan Wul
FANTASTIC PLANET
STEPHAN WUL ISBN 978-1-902197-31-9 Published 2010 by Creation Oneiros www.creationbooks.com All world rights reserved Translation by Anthony Georges Whyte Copyright © Creation Oneiros 2010 Design by Atavistic Images
This book is supported by the French Ministry of Foreign Affairs, as part of the Burgess programme run by the Cultural Department of the French Embassy in London. (www.frenchbooknews.com)
PART ONE
1
Quietly, the Traag went near the window overlooking the nature room. Smiling, he watched his daughter playing. She was a small and pretty Traag girl, with big red eyes, a narrow nasal slit, a mobile mouth and, on either side of her smooth skull, two eardrums so fine they appeared translucent.
She was running on the lawn, tumbling and rolling towards the pool crying out in joy. She dived below the water as deep as possible to take enough of a run up to surge out like a rocket and reach the diving board, gripping it with the tips of her fingers. The third time around, she missed the diving board and had to spread her arms’ membranes in order to glide down onto the grass. She stood still for a while, thinking of a new game. At only three metres tall, she was slight for a seven year old.
Her father entered the nature room and walked towards her. He took her by the hand, still smiling. She raised her head towards him.
‘I promised you a surprise’, said the Traag.
She remained motionless for a while, and then, her red eyes lit up with joy as she gripped her father’s hand with her twenty small fingers and shrieked:
‘The neighbour’s Om had her little one!’
‘She had two’, said the Traag. ‘That’s quite rare. We will pick the best looking one for you. Or rather, you will choose it yourself.’
She pulled on her father’s arm, stamping her feet.
‘Hurry, Father, take me to see them!’
‘You must get dressed first,’ said the Traag pointing at the tunic abandoned on the lawn.
Hurriedly she put on the thin garment and ran ahead of her father. One after the other, they crossed the mound separating them from the house next door.
‘Hurry Father!’ said the Traag child stretching up to try and touch the entry phone, a simple shiny plate fastened on the door.
‘You’re too short; don’t get all worked up,’ said the Traag as he touched it with his hand.
The neighbour’s face appeared on the plate and said:
‘Here you are Praw, I see you brought Tiwa.’
‘And how impatient she is!’ smiled Praw through his wide oral slit.
The door opened; Faoz was waiting for them at the entrance to the nature room. He politely unfolded his membranes, stretching his arms.
‘Happiness onto you, Praw.’
‘Happiness onto you Faoz’, replied Tiwa’s father.
Slipping beneath the neighbour’s legs, the little girl was already running on the lawn. Her father called her back, half benevolent, half severe.
‘Tiwa! You’ve not saluted.’
Tiwa rapidly unfolded a membrane.
‘Happiness…’ she said. ‘Oh! Neighbour Faoz, where are they? Where are the little Oms?’
With his big red eye, Faoz looked at Praw knowingly.
‘This way,’ he said crossing the room.
They passed through several doors and entered a small omhouse where a mild animal smell was floating around despite the immaculate cleanliness.
Stretched on a cushion, a female Om was breastfeeding her two offspring. She was holding them tight in her folded arms and they were sucking greedily on her teats.
Tiwa leant forward to get a closer look at them.
‘Oh!’ she said, ‘they don’t have any hairs on their head!’
‘For Oms, we say hair and not hairs,’ explained Praw. ‘They are newly born, and their hair will grow later on.’
She looked at the mother’s long blond hair.
‘Will they have golden hair like their mummy?’
‘Certainly,’ said Faoz, ‘the father was also of golden blood.’
‘They are of pure race?’ asked Praw surprised.
‘You know Tiwa, this is quite a present you’re getting from neighbour Faoz!’
‘Not at all, I am pleased for Tiwa! Which one would you like, Tiwa?’
The little girl held out her hand.
‘Can I touch them?’
‘Be careful, the mother might bite. Let me do it.’
Faoz unfolded his membrane and caressed the Om’s blond hair. She growled a little, from the back of her throat.
‘Come, come,’ said her master calming her down. ‘Be good, Softina. I don’t want to harm them in any way. I will give them back to you right away… Do you understand?’
He took the twins and said:
‘She is intelligent and affectionate, but having babies always makes them a little snappy. It’s instinctive!’
He placed the baby in Tiwa’s hand. It was twisting like a small frog, shaking its minute clenched fists. A drop of milk was running from its toothless, howling mouth.
‘It’s so cute!’ admired Tiwa.
Begging, the female Om was in turn getting hold of her master’s legs and Tiwa’s, saying over and over: ‘Baby! Baby!’
The Traag caressed its head with his free hand.
‘Yes, my Softina, we will return them to you, behave now!’
‘They’re both the same’, said Tiwa cradling the baby in her hand. ‘I choose this one; can I take it straightaway?’
Her father protested.
‘No, it is still too young; you can take it in a few
days when it will be able to walk.’
The young Traag seemed disappointed. Her red eyes dulled.
‘But you can come to see it before then,’ said the neighbour taking the baby from her.
‘Yes,’ said her father, ‘a few days will go fast. I also need time at home to fit out an omhouse.’
Tiwa pointed at the cushion where the Om mother was attending to her babies ensuring they had not suffered from the Traags.
‘Will there be a cushion like this one in our omhouse?’
‘Of course.’
‘And a feeding dish like that?’
‘Well yes!’
She was jumping on the spot, flapping her axillary membranes. She began to sing:
‘A little Om! A little Om!’
Then, suddenly more serious:
‘They’re my favourite animal!’
The two Traags smiled.
‘And why is that?’
‘Because they can talk, and they can even swim if you teach them.’
‘Yes, but not very well… Now let’s leave our neighbour in peace.’
He turned towards Faoz, unfolding his membranes.
‘Thank you, Faoz. Happiness onto you!’
‘Happiness,’ said Faoz showing them to the door.
‘Don’t thank me, it is nothing really.’
He stroked Tiwa’s smooth head.
‘Happiness, little girl. See you soon!’
‘Happiness onto you, neighbour Faoz.’
She crossed the mound skipping happily behind her father. She was overjoyed: in a few days the little Oms will be able to walk and she will have one of her own. It is true that a single day in the large Ygam planet was equivalent to forty five days on the small planet called Earth, a faraway world from where the Oms originated.
2
When Tiwa’s little Om was big enough to walk on its own, it was separated from its mother. Neighbour Faoz demanded that this separation be gradual, as he was good and liked animals.
He started by entrusting the little one to Tiwa for only one hour a day, then two, and so on… That way, the mother and
her offspring got used to being apart, little by little. At first, the mother moaned endlessly every time her son left for the neighbouring house. She then began to transfer her affection onto her other child.
When the little Om was away permanently, in the specially fitted out omhouse, the mother bore only vague regrets with no particular resolve. Still, for several days she moaned occasionally without really knowing why.
Once Tiwa was certain her little Om would not be taken from her again, she said:
‘This time, he really is mine! What will I call him?’
‘The Om mother’s name is Softina’, advised her father, ‘call him Softy.’
Tiwa looked at the young creature as it was pulling up a fistful of grass in the nature room. It was squatting on its small plump legs, clenching its fists in the grass with a blissful look on its face and throwing green clumps in the swimming pool, whilst letting out loud and
exultant shrieks of laughter.
‘Softy doesn’t suit him,’ said the Traag child. ‘Look how strong he is!’
‘He must be stopped,’ said Praw. ‘The little devil is going to wreck the nature room.’
He raised his arms, deployed his membranes and sent wind towards the little Om, saying:
‘Boo! Will you stop that, little devil!’
‘No Father’, said Tiwa, ‘you’re scaring him. He doesn’t know what he’s doing; he’s only a young animal!’
Yet the creature did not seem scared at all. Aping the Traag, it was shaking its little arms and shouting in turn:
‘Boo! LidP devil, boo!’
The father and daughter burst out laughing. The Traag took two steps towards the Om and grabbed it by one of its legs. He twirled it in his hand and took it to the omhouse ignoring Tiwa’s protests.
‘He’s got to sleep a little’, he said closing the omhouse’s door, ‘he’s been up to enough mischief for now, he needs to rest.’
To divert his daughter’s displeasure, he added:
‘What name will you give him in the end? He already has nice hair, just like his mother. Call him Goldie.’
The little girl pulled a face as her father gently ushered her to the nature room.
‘Too many Oms are called Goldie because of their hair’, she said.
At that moment, two little fists could be heard in the distance banging against the omhouse door and a shrill voice was shouting:
‘Boo! Lidl devil!’
The two Traags laughed again.
‘He’s a real terror!’ exclaimed the father.
The little girl stopped laughing at once.
‘Father’, she said, ‘I will call him Terror.’
Praw said with surprise:
‘But that’s not an Om name!’
‘It doesn’t matter, Father, I think it suits him. For short I will say Terr!’
Praw smiled.
‘As you wish, Tiwa, it is your Om after all.’
‘I’ll write his name on a collar, I… Oh father! He still doesn’t have a collar!’
‘We will buy one.’
Tiwa stamped her feet.
‘Now, Father, right now. Take me to buy a collar for Terr!’
A green eyed Traag entered the nature room. Praw turned towards her.
‘Did you hear that Wami? She wants me to buy a collar for the Om.’
Tiwa now pleaded with her in turn.
‘Mother, will you? Will you let me go with Father to buy a collar for Terr?’
‘Terr?’ said Tiwa’s mother. ‘Who’s Terr?’
‘It’s the name I’ve given to my little Om.’
The Traag snapped her membranes with severity.
‘All I hear is talk of this Om!’ she said. ‘Since it’s been here everything is going wrong. I bet you haven’t done any learning today?’
Tiwa gave a downcast glance at the instruction headsets hanging from the wall.
‘No Mother’, she said in a low voice, screwing up her red eyes.
The Traag approached her and gently wrapped her membranes around her shoulders. She said in a softer tone:
‘That’s alright, Tiwa, I excuse you once more from instruction this morning.’
She turned towards Praw.
‘Take her to buy the collar, Praw, if it pleases her that much.’
‘That was indeed my intention’, said the father, ‘but she must promise me to start her instruction as soon as we return.’
Tiwa promised everything that was asked of her and dragged her father towards the door.
They crossed the mound and, in order to go faster, unfolded their membranes and glided along the ground.
From his terrace, neighbour Faoz saw them leave.
‘How’s the little Om?’ he asked.
‘Very well’, replied Tiwa, ‘we’re off to buy him a collar.’
The father and daughter got into the sphere and closed the cover. It took off and flew towards the town; tower blocks could be seen on the horizon.
‘Father, where will we find the collar?’ asked Tiwa.
‘In Block 12A there’s a large omhouse display. There, one can find everything needed to keep Oms. That’s where I got the equipment for our omhouse.’
Within a few minutes they had reached the city gates and left the sphere to take the mobile alley leading to the A blocks. Through tunnels and over bridges, they crossed other districts before getting to the town centre where the crowd was much denser and the spheres of the warders and technicians appeared like large soap bubbles suspended in mid-air. They left Alley 3 and let themselves be transported by Alley A until Block 12.Once in the Block 12 atrium, they went up ten floors and Tiwa became filled with wonder.
A large corridor was lined on one side by shop windows where Oms of all races were displayed. Some were blond like Terr. Others had dark skin and curly hair. Some males had a mane of hair which started between their eyes and ears and, circling the mouth, ended on the chin.
Further away, glass cages were lined up where one could see dogs, lions from Mars, birds from Ygam and all sorts of other animals from the universe. But Tiwa only had eyes for the Oms, this race of small monkeys from Earth.
Tiwa’s selective interest for these animals was not particularly original for a young Traag girl. An Om was by far the most prized companion on Ygam. Was there not a saying which went: “Oms are Traags’ best friends”? Besides it was in front of the Oms’ cages the larger crowds were gathered.
Praw let his daughter entertain herself for a while looking at the shop windows, before taking her along saying:
‘Time is short. Don’t forget you must do your instruction when we get back home. Come and choose a collar for your little Om.’
They entered a showroom where all sorts of things for animals were displayed. A salesman introduced himself and presented different models of collars. Tiwa picked a large blue one.
She did however worry about its size, saying:
‘This will never fit my little Om.’
But the salesman reassured her by pointing at a small switch which could be pressed to shorten or lengthen the collar. He also suggested a magnetic leash, a simple bracelet that could easily be slipped on one’s wrist and set up with the collar to prevent the Om from going more than six millistadia away.
Praw asked for the items to be packed and left the block with a very happy Tiwa.
Half an hour later they were back home. Tiwa rushed to the omhouse, placed the collar around Terr’s neck and the bracelet on her own wrist. Then, keeping her promise, she went to sit on the lawn of the nature room and put on her instruction headset, as the little Om fell asleep on her lap lulled by her caresses.
‘…Elementary school, the headset hummed gently, ‘info 10. This info will be about ygamography. Please close your eyes.’
Tiwa closed her eyes and a very precise mental picture arose in her head. An orb was rotating slowly, a sphere divided up in irregular red and green smears.
‘Our last info dealt with the genesis of Ygam’s s
eas and continents. Next is the distribution of these on Ygam’s surface as rearranged intentionally by the Traags. Ygam’s continents number six: Four artificial ones and two natural ones. The latter were not altered by the Traags. They have kept the shape given to them by chance and are used as a reservation for inferior species.’
‘The four continents retouched by the Traags have a triangular equilateral shape and are of equal size. Two are situated at the same distance from each other in hemisphere A, the other two at equal distance from each other in hemisphere B. Their tips point towards the poles, while their bases face the equator.’
‘The natural continents are situated on the equator, but as far away as possible from the adjusted continents, that is to say…’
The little Om, in a pleasant dream, could see a multicoloured sphere spin around. He could hear words, though he did not understand them and could not even have pronounced them correctly.
As the Traag’s hand was resting on his head, the bracelet was very close to the collar. Thanks to a very simple phenomenon, which no one had thought about, Terr could hear and see in his sleep everything his young mistress perceived through her headset.
The voices and images were falling into his subconscious like seeds into virgin earth.
3
Terr got used to sleeping on Tiwa’s lap whenever she was doing her instruction. At first her parents prevented her from it, fearing that their daughter be distracted by the small animal’s presence. But they soon noted they were wrong.
Indeed, when Tiwa was deprived of the little Om she shortened her instruction hours to go and play with him sooner. In fact her inferior friend’s company incited her to keep the headset on longer. In the end Praw and Wami actually recommended she took the little Om with her to ease her daily learning chore.
One day, as Terr had already grown somewhat, Praw heard a noise in the omhouse where he had locked him up for a few hours. He got near and heard the animal humming a strange song with even stranger words:
‘Klud city is continent South A’s largest town, Torm the largest in the North A continent, nent, nent… The Traag’s original element is water; in the past, Traags could not breathe in air… air… air! Nowadays they are amphibious thanks to the mutations created by the scientist Zarek, Zarek, rek, rek!…’
