by Paul Lucas
THE SHATTERED SKY
By Paul Lucas
Copyright 2012 Paul Lucas
Cover Art By Paul Lucas
MAPS
THE KNOWN NATIONS
THE KN'S ZONE OF EXPLORATION
PART ONE
THE SECRET OF THE SHARDS
ONE
On Old Earth during the Twentieth Century, the first crude efforts were organized to search for signs of extra-terrestial life. Among the scientists consulted for the project was noted physicist Freeman Dyson.
Among his other contributions, Dyson made an unusual proposal. He argued that one way to detect advanced alien civilizations would be to search for gigantic shells they would construct around their home stars.
The idea sounded radical, but his reasoning was sound. As a civilization advances, its energy needs increase at an exponential rate. Facing energy crisis after energy crisis, these hypothetical aliens would turn to the most powerful and enduring energy source available to them, their sun, and try to tap one hundred percent of its energy output. Dyson figured that the easiest way to do so was to disassemble their home system of planets and use the material to build a loose gigantic shell around the star, completely intercepting all of its light and heat.
Such a Dyson Sphere, if one were ever found, would have one other startling application. If one built the sphere as a single, unified artifact with a radius roughly equivalent to that of Earth’s orbit, the inner surface would receive just the right amount of sunlight needed to support life. Line the surface with soil and water and pressurize it with the right combination of gasses, and you have an artificial life-supporting environment of staggering proportions, one with a potentially habitable surface area roughly equivalent to a billion Earth-sized planets.
Little did anyone at the time know it, but Dr. Dyson’s fanciful proposal to find little green men would alter the destiny of humanity and its daughter races for all time.
--From The Path To The Eden Sphere by Gabriella Herbert, published 542, Borelean Greater Press, Borelea
* * *
Males!
Why did they always think the winds of the world were propelled by their pompous boasting?
I turned my back on Cloud and stalked away, snapping my wings loudly so there was no mistaking my irritation. "Leave me alone!"
Cloud chased after me, grabbing at my arm. “Do not ignore me, Gossamyr!”
I yanked my limb away. “I would not, if you did not act like such a child!”
He ran around ahead of me, blocking my forward motion with arms and wing membranes spread wide. His gray eyes smoldered. I stopped, planted my tool-fingers on my hips, and concentrated on looking anywhere but at him.
A dozen wingspans away stood the vast silver-black metal walls of the Tower, curving away into the distance on either side of us like a sheer, impossibly-high metal cliff. We were only a quarter of the way around its base, over a thousand paces away from the Great Entrance where our people made their homes. In the opposite direction, one could barely make out the cultivated rows of trees that made up our expansive orchards. The spot half way between was rarely used regularly, and made an ideal location for the privacy I needed to practice my spirit-callings. That is, until Cloud decided that his wants were more important than my training.
The only other person within sight was Rainfall, who in the distance was stretching a Dhaki hide with wooden tanning pegs on the short scrub grass. She stared openly at us, almost hidden by the immense curve of the Tower’s base.
Realizing I had seen her, she quickly redoubled her strokes with the bone scraper, pretending very hard not to have noticed anything. Wonderful. No doubt Cloud and I would be a popular topic of conversation around many hearth fires this evening.
Far above us, the faintly-visible silhouettes of youngsters playing high on the winds could barely be seen. I turned my eyes away. The memories of my own time in the sky were still too recent and painful.
Cloud lowered his arms and folded his wings. “Gossamyr, I do not understand why you act this way. I did not ask you to do anything scandalous! I just wanted you to go for a walk with me tomorrow after first meal.”
His shoulders slumped as he cast his eyes downward, his ears hugging his scalp. “I would not have expected you to compromise yourself in any way, if that is what you are upset about.”
I rolled my eyes. “Cloud, please. I do not care about that. I have been more-or-less ‘compromised’ several times already.”
His jaw slackened.
“Why are you so surprised?” I added hastily. “I hope you still do not think of me as one of your playmates. The skies are denied to us. We are adults now. Everyone our age ‘experiments.’ You know that.”
He pulled himself up straight, fur bristling. I had to admit that he could look impressive when he wanted to, as one of the tallest males in our tribe. “I do not do such things, at least not since I became Chief Hunter. The youngest such in a generation! And you should not, either, as you are Windrider’s apprentice. You will be Shaman someday. You should hold yourself to a higher standard. You must be better than the common members of our tribe.”
“Better than the others? Like you?”
He puffed his chest in pride. “Like me, yes.”
I groaned in exasperation, stepping around him and continuing on my way.
He caught up to me a few heartbeats later, walking beside me stride for stride. “But, Gossamyr, I still do not understand! If you were willing to do things like--like that with other males, why will you not even go for a walk with me? We used to play together all the time when we flew on the winds.”
Anger flared. “Because those other males understood that it was only for fun, a one-time thing! But with you, Cloud, everything is so serious and one-sided! You have practically boasted to every one in the community that you and I will be Mates! Strange, you never consulted me on that. Will I not be given a choice?”
“Of course it is your choice. It is just that there is a good chance the position of Chieftain will one day fall to me, as Chief Hunter. Such a thing has happened a few times before, and many in the community have already expressed their support. Even some of the Elders, like Azure! And since you will inherit the position of Shaman, it seems only natural that we would Mate.”
“Cloud, there is no tradition saying that the Chieftain must Mate with the Shaman.”
“But look how well it worked for Flier and Windrider. Besides, many of our group have already begun pairing off. Your choices are narrowing, unless you want to wait for someone much younger to come of age.” His lips pursed. “My brother Brightwind has quite a crush on you, I understand.”
Brightwind was barely ten years old and still playing on the winds. I shot Cloud a dirty look.
He smirked. “That is the way of things, Gossamyr. People come of age in clusters, usually sticking with the people they played with in the sky. Our group has, what, about twenty members? Over half are female. Are you going to be one of the odd ones out, Gossamyr? Are you going to wait until you are thirty-four to finally Mate, like Windblossom? That’s about twice your age.” He paused. “You should know I already had a few offers.”
“I know.” Since Cloud had won his title on the last Great Hunt that was no surprise. “Sunwing has made no secret of her intent to court you. She is much prettier than me. A good choice for you.”
He shrugged. “Sunwing is nice, but I do not want her. I want you.”
I shook my head. “I want a Mate, but I swear to the Spirits it will not be you, Cloud.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw his fur stiffen. A deep furrow ran over his brow as he tried to hide his hurt. “Who, then?” He hissed. “Is someone else courting you?”
“Not seriously, which
is just as well. Most of my other choices are little better.” I thought back to the two males I had “experimented” with in the last few months. They were typical of the rest of the bachelor males. Ripplefur seemed to expect his Mate to be a second mother and constantly clean up after him. But he was not as bad as Clearsky, who expressed interest in me solely in anticipation of my eventually becoming Shaman and the prestige such a position would bring to my future family.
“You will have to choose sooner or later,” Cloud grumped.
I stopped and spun abruptly toward him, angrily sweeping my arms to my side. My wing membranes kicked up a small cloud of dust from the loose soil surrounding the Tower. “And that is makes me so mad! How many Matings among our people are just arrangements of convenience? Mating is supposed to be about love, about two spirits joining! But many, many times I have seen one female or another pair off with a male who is simply the least objectionable, and she ends up being miserable the rest of her life. I do not want that to happen to me!”
Before he could reply I turned away from him. “Now, if you insist on not going away, I need you to be quiet. I am going to practice my spirit-callings. That is why I came here in the first place.”
A vicious retort hung on his lips, but he thought better of it and closed his mouth. He sat down with his back on the silvery-black wall of the Tower, brooding quietly.
I made of show of preparing myself, stretching my hands and tool-fingers, ruffling my wing-fingers to make sure my wings were properly folded, closing my eyes as I entered my meditative state. One needed an orderly mind to call the spirits.
My breath and heartbeat slowed. Muscles slackened as tension drained away.
My fingers traced paths through the air as I began a soft, wafting chant. Most believed that these movements in and of themselves called the spirits, but in truth they were only mnemonic devices, gestures and words that help Shamans align thoughts into the precise patterns needed to make the spirits obey.
I brought my hands together, my open tool-fingers forming a shallow cup. Slowly, unhurriedly, a bluish shimmer grew between my palms, eventually expanding into a small, bright, globe of light bobbing ever so gently above my open hands.
Summoning such a minor spirit was one of the most basic callings Windrider had taught me, but it also was the one I most enjoyed creating. It was so pretty.
I glanced sideways at Cloud, pleased to see him clearly impressed.
I scowled. Why should I care if I impressed him?
A near-deafening roar ripped overhead, breaking my concentration. The blue globe popped out of existence like a water bubble.
The roar grew overwhelming, vibrating the ground under our feet. My hands shot over my ears, which were already hugging my skull.
I glanced up to see a dark bulbous thing scream past the top of the Tower, then zoom into the distance. It was shaped like a fat ovoid in front, tapering into a long, thin, rigid tail in back. Above it were what I could only assume to be its wings, whirring about themselves at an insane speed. Strangest of all was how it gleamed, like the metal of our Tower. How could such a strange thing ever fly?
A similar creature had been spotted several years ago. It had circled the Tower several times before disappearing over the mountains in the far distance. Though frightening, no one had given much thought to the incident, especially since the creature had never returned. Our world was filled with a great many strange animals. What was one more?
But why had this flying metal creature come back now, after all this time? Or was this a different creature, perhaps following the same migratory path as the other one?
A flurry of shadows crossed the sun. I blinked into the sky to see a gaggle of youngsters descend toward us and nearly crashing into each other in excitement as they landed.
“This is not the time for silly sky-games!” Cloud barked at them.
“But, but, Cloud, Gossamyr!" stammered Wingstroke, the eldest, barely thirteen. "That whirling thing that flew by--it’s not alone! The other one its with must be some kind of monster!"
I saw the look of naked panic all of them shared and instantly knew this was no game. "What are you talking about?"
The youngster stabbed a wing-finger up into the sky in the direction the metal-beast had flown, unfolding the breadth of his leathery wing for emphasis. I followed the gesture. There, very far away, the now-tiny figure of the whirling-winged creature approached an obscure floating dot. From the blackness of its shadow it appeared solid, not wispy like a cloud. As I watched the dot grew almost imperceptibly larger. It was coming in our direction. At such a pace it would arrive at the Tower in a few hours at most.
“How far?" I asked.
“We do not know!" cried Windfeather, a female just past ten years old. "We think it might be twenty Tower-heights away!"
The Tower stretched up over a thousand times the breadth of my own full wingspan. To be visible at twenty time that distance, the object had to be enormous. The youngsters were no doubt exaggerating, but from the sky the youngsters would be better able to observe it from other angles than we soil-bound adults.
But what except the clouds could be so huge and still fly? Even the Sky Wisps, those big tentacled scavengers with their bloated sacks of smelly gas, would be invisible at this distance.
Could it be the Sky Spirit? Was he returning to the Tower, his original home, after all this time?
I tried to think of alternative explanations, but none came.
I swallowed into a suddenly dry throat and could not think of a single thing to say.
Cloud, however, did not hesitate. As Chief Hunter, he was used to action. “Children," he said quietly but urgently, “Tell Flier and Windrider of this right away. Fly, so you can find them faster, and bring them so they may see. Now go, quickly!"
They bobbed their heads furiously and ran as they spread their wings, catching the wind as it carried their slight frames aloft. Wingstroke, the last aloft, had to struggle the hardest because of his growing body. Soon, he would be too heavy to fly. I felt a pang of sympathy for what he would lose all too soon.
I hugged myself, exchanging a brief, worried glance with Cloud. He sucked heavily on his lower lip, naked anxiety in his eyes. He, too, must have suspected what I did. Our earlier bickering was instantly forgotten. Our petty feelings paled to insignificance next to the possible coming of the Sky-Spirit.
I turned back to the distant black dot. A chill rolled down the length of my spine, spiking my fur to the very tuft of my short tail, as one thought rolled over and over again in my mind.
I never thought I would be alive to see Judgement Day.
TWO
Myotan, Physiology: Myotans are a sentient transhuman race based primarily on a homo sapiens genetic template mixed with DNA taken from the bats of old Earth, primarily the Little Brown Bat of North America, or myotis lucifugus. Hence the derivation of their race-name, Myotan.
Myotans tend toward slight builds, with males averaging 160 centimeters in height and the females 152 centimeters. They average about 32 kg of mass per meter of height, compared to 42 kg/m for humans.
Myotans are omnivorous and have slightly higher metabolisms than humans.
Myotans possess a thin layer of fur over most of their bodies, ranging in coloration from yellow to rusty brown to gray to pure black. In some individuals, splotches of contrasting color can be found around the feet, hands, and ears. Most have human-like head hair.
The feet of a Myotan are three-toed and semi-prehensile, terminating in thick toe claws designed for gripping various perches. A small tuft of a vestigial webbed tail can be found just above their buttocks.
Myotan faces are a striking blend of human and bat. Their heads are slightly angular, with a small muzzle and a large, human-proportioned skull to hold enhanced brain capacity. Their most outstanding facial feature are their large, intelligent eyes, which are one and a half times larger proportionally than human eyes to provide enhanced night vision. Their ears are large, tri
angular, and mobile, for sensitive directional hearing. Myotans do not possess the sonar capabilities of their non-sentient ancestors, but their superior night vision and hearing serve them almost as well in darkened conditions.
Their most prominent body features are their wings. The last two fingers on each hand (corresponding to the ring and pinky fingers on humans) extend a meter or more beyond the hands, which along with a flexible protrusion originating from the elbow provides a stable framework to anchor the sweeping wing membrane. The wing membrane is anchored along the bones of the arm, down the side of the rib cage and terminates at the hip. The membrane is tough but supple, feeling like thin, soft leather to the touch.
This wing arrangement leaves two fingers and a thumb free for tool manipulation. When using tools a Myotan will sweep his wing fingers back, tucked against the palm and running along the underside of the fore-arm. The wing membrane is designed to fold in such a manner that it is easily kept out of the way in this position, allowing a wide range of arm movements.
Myotans have typical wingspans of 1.5 to 4 times their height. This ratio shrinks as they age, with youngsters having much higher wing-to-body-mass ratios than adults.The rest of their bodies are very humanocentric in design, including many of a baseline human’s musculature, sensory organ arrangement, and secondary sexual characteristics.
See Also: Myotans, Life Cycle; Myotans, Psychology; Myotans, Culture; Myotans, Contact History; Artifact Site X12.
--excerpted from A Basic Guide to the Outlands, 543 “What the $%@*#! is That Thing?” edition, Haggerty Press, Borelea.
* * *
The Sky-Spirit was master of the clouds and Mate to the Sun, come to judge the worthiness of our people, his children. As was foretold generations ago, when our ancestors first settled in the Tower.
