The Shattered Sky

by Paul Lucas

  I suddenly felt very self-conscious under his casual gaze, like I had not felt since the humans first came into our lives. I was all at once very aware of how dusty I was from our long hike, how my leggings were worn and frayed, and how I had not brushed my fur in over a day. "Of--of course," I hastily answered him.

  On the long walk back to the Tower, I hung to the rear, studying the humans intently, Louis and Rumiko especially. I observed closely how Rumiko acted around her mate-to-be, how everything from how she talked and gestured to how she dressed. I suddenly yearned for Lerner to pay attention to me the way Louis did to Rumiko.

  If my life before had been complicated, it was nothing compared to what was to come.

  * * *

  Deep in the night I awoke with a start, a scream choked to silence by fear-spasmed muscles. The nightmare still lapped at my mind. A thousand, thousand hideous bugs, the blackest and hairiest ones imaginable, emerged from every egress in the room and engulfed me, crawling all over my exposed body as they slowly began burrowing into my flesh.

  I shivered uncontrollably when I realized that, in a sense, it wasn't a dream at all.

  NINE

  The Great Cataclysm is the central mystery in our lives. Five thousand years ago humanity and its daughter races were the undisputed masters of the most colossal artifact ever created, the Eden Sphere. They would have seemed god-like to us, commanding technologies beyond our comprehension at a whim through their connection to the Nanotech Matrix.

  Then, over the course of several brief hours or days, something shattered the Sphere and destroyed their civilization.

  It is a common misconception, perpetuated by a sensationalist media, that the disaster could have fully occurred in a few seconds. The most popular scenario for the cataclysm is a massive impact from space, say from a rogue moon or planet. The shockwaves from the impact would have traveled around the Sphere at incredible speed, maybe as much as Mach 100. But even at that speed, it would have taken days for the destructive shockwaves to travel the hundreds of millions of kilometers from one end of the Sphere to the other. This creates a truly horrific image, as trillions of sentient beings on thousands of doomed Habitats would have watched their deaths undulate ever-so-slowly across the surface of the Sphere toward them.

  Some contend that the Sphere was designed to shatter. But this does not explain why so many habitats spread throughout the breadth of the Sphere died during the Cataclysm. This supports the second most popular theory of the disaster, that of a massive, incredibly destructive Sphere-wide war, with the shattering of the Sphere as the last, most hideous act of violence.

  Other, less credible, theories for the Great Cataclysm include everything from a massive solar eruption to space-time anomalies to alien invasions.

  But whatever its cause, the Great Cataclysm’s aftermath is even more puzzling. While it is no surprise that a great many of the survivors were thrown back into the stone age, surely this could not have been a universal condition. With all the resources available to the Builders, and given the number of habitat Shards estimated to have survived the Cataclysm, it seems reasonable to assume that at least some factions of the Builders would have survived with all of their technology and knowledge intact.

  But where are they? In our exploration of space following the discovery of the Spaceport twenty-eight years ago, we have seen no evidence of anyone ever trying to repair the Sphere or re-establish communication among the surviving Shards. In fact, except for poorly-organized Cephalopod scavengers, we have encountered no culture with a technology greater than our own.

  That I find truly terrifying. For what force in the universe could make the likes of the Builders utterly disappear?

  --from Legends of the Builders: A Critical Analysis, by Dr. Vrolet Matthias, published 543, PandoraNet Media, Kylea.

  * * *

  "They have an enemy, I think."

  I started and glanced behind me. Windrider settled beside me on the Tower ledge. It was one of the lower ones, only seven or eight wing spans above the ground. It looked out over the main entrance gates and the gigantic cleared field beyond.

  Below, Flier, Cloud, Azure, and a number of the other prominent citizens of our community parlayed with a small band of nomads passing through the area. They numbered about twenty, baseline humans all, as were most of the nomads we dealt with. I could smell them from here; they rarely bathed and wore cured hides they never washed. One prominent warrior was showing signs of a facial cancer, pustules running down one cheek. He could be no more than twenty or twenty five, and would probably not last another five. Did his people know nothing of basic hygiene or healing magic?

  Before we had come into contact with Lerner's people, I had thought all humans were like that, primitive and ignorant. Lerner has told me not to think in such a way, to accept their customs and ways as merely different, not inferior, but I could not help myself. They smelled.

  Lerner’s presence made quite an impact on the nomads. Their chieftain was willing to trade away some of his best hides and stone tools if Lerner would mate with his daughter, for just one night, to produce a child. Never mind that the Chief’s daughter had barely entered puberty. Lerner’s stunned expression and stumbling refusal was priceless to watch.

  But such was the way with small nomad tribes. They had so few members that they had to jump at any chance to infuse their numbers with new blood. And Lerner, who was obviously very healthy and old enough to prove to them he had what it took to survive, was a worthy stud. The chieftain even got to the point of offering his wife to Lerner as payment for siring some grandchildren. The chieftain’s wife clopped her mate solidly on the head with a water gourd in thanks for that.

  Of course Lerner refused again, his face flushing bright red. His society was far different; they had millions of people, or so I was told, back in the Known Nations. They could pick and choose any mate they wanted.

  That must be nice.

  "What do you mean?" I asked our Shaman as she sat down beside me. "The nomads have an enemy?"

  "No, silly child. Lerner’s people."

  "What makes you say that? Did they tell you so, before they left?" The helistat Venia's Betrayal, carrying Louis and Rumiko, had left just six days before.

  "No, they have not said as much," she confessed. "But their kind and ours are not so different that I can't tell when they're hiding something. There are some subjects they avoid talking about, that they swoop and bank away from when brought up."

  Despite myself, I found I was more than a little annoyed at her intrusion. I had wanted to concentrate on watching the negotiations--or, more honestly, watching Lerner squirm under the nomad chieftain's scrutiny. The very idea of Mating with the chieftain's daughter seemed to honestly embarrass him. If a Myotan nomad tribe were to suddenly show up and beg our bachelor males to mate with their females, I do not know of a single one who would refuse. That's all males my age seemed to think about. Was there some unknown taboo about human mating that I did not know about, that prevented Lerner from doing such a duty? Was it really just that he thought the chief’s daughter too young? Or was it something cultural? How exactly did humans mate, anyway? I knew enough about their bodies to know that physically it would be in a near-identical manner to what Myotans did. Lerner and I would not be so different, after all.

  I had thought about such things a lot, these past few weeks since I had talked with Louis and Rumiko. This was only compounded when Feather confided in me that one of the human crewmembers of the helistat had propositioned her the night before the humans left. She had politely refused, but admitted she had been intrigued by the offer, curious if nothing else.

  But it was a relief of sorts to know I was not the only one who entertained such thoughts.

  I caught Glider looking at me oddly. I thought she must be annoyed at my seeming disinterest in what she had to say. I thought it best to at least pretend to listen. "What do you mean?" I asked at last.

  "Have you ever asked Lerner if
there are others besides his people who are exploring the Shards?"

  I blinked at her, no longer so distracted by the tableau below. "Yes. Back when he first came, on our first trip into the upper levels of the Tower."

  "And what did he say?"

  I pursed my lips, thinking back. "He said he did not know and changed the subject. I had thought it odd at the time, but so much was happening then that I quickly put it from my mind."

  Windrider nodded her wizened head. "I have asked other humans who have come the same question, and they have reacted pretty much the same. And they always act just a bit fearful for that heartbeat they contemplate the question." She brooded under heavy brows. "They are friendly and generous, but they also hide much from us."

  "So you come to me, hoping I would have some insight into this from my time with Lerner?"

  "Of course. Everyone knows you are perhaps the smartest of us when it comes to all the newness the humans bring."

  "Well," I said, "In Lerner's books I have seen pictures of the many terrible wars his people fought against each other. They are not strictly one people, as our tribe is one tribe. There are nine Known Nations, which contain many smaller factions within themselves. Many of these powers, both great and small, have violently opposed each other for generations, until their discovery of something called the Underworld thirty years ago forced them to unite, make peace, and begin exploring." I stopped short at telling Windrider everything. For all her wisdom, there were things she would simply not understand. Even with all my exposure to Lerner and things human, I still had trouble with some concepts. The Underworld existed beneath the world of the sun and sky, a thousand wingspans under our feet. If the Shards were indeed just vast machines, then the Underworld was where all the machinery was located that kept our world running. When Lerner's people discovered an entrance to it, they learned of the true nature of our world, and it shocked them profoundly. "Perhaps this enemy you suspect is a faction of their own people."

  Windrider ruffled her wing membranes. "Perhaps, but I do not think so. I have seen them talk of others of their kind, of other nations that they do not belong to and sometimes resent. They do not use the same type of tones in their talk, the same type of body language. They react akin to the way I see our own children react to strange noises in the woods."

  "Windrider, I can hardly believe that. What could Lerner's people possibly fear? They are so powerful."

  "The ones they call the Builders were more powerful than they."

  "Could it be these Builders they fear so, then? Are they afraid that despite what they think, the Builders may yet exist and be angry at what they do?"

  The Shaman shrugged, slipping into deep thought. "Could be," she said. "But I still think it is something else. The humans sometimes forget that our hearing is better than theirs, and will whisper to themselves when they think we cannot hear. I overheard the captain of the last helistat talk to her second, and she mentioned about checking our culture for traces of manipulation by people she called ‘the Others.’ She spoke the name with just a hint of dread. I then spent the next few hours chanting and re-chanting our history songs, so that their sophontologist could learn of us. Or so they said. But I knew they had an ulterior motive."

  "Did they find anything?"

  "Apparently not. But they are so fearful of this enemy they entertained the possibility that we could be their agents.”

  “That is silly. How could they think such things? They should know by now that we are their friends."

  "Fear makes creatures, even ones as powerful as Lerner's people, do irrational things, Gossamyr. And it is clear to me that they fear whoever these 'Others' are."

  "What can we do about them?"

  The Shaman scratched her muzzle. "Not much, I imagine. We can only watch and listen, and warn our new friends if we see anything that could threaten them."

  I nodded, unsure of how much of what she said I wanted to believe. I turned to watch Lerner, down below, now negotiating for some cured hides, no doubt to give to the next passing helistat crew for analysis. "The humans are our friends, yes?"

  Windrider looked hard at me, then at Lerner down below. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a sly smile slowly grow on her, one very uncomfortably similar to the one Louis had worn back in the glider cave. "Indeed," she said, turning to look at Lerner herself. "And perhaps someday soon they will be more than that, at least to some of us."

  I whipped my head up in alarm. She just cocked her head at me. "You talked to Louis before he left," I said.

  She shrugged. "Of course. He calls to the Spirits, same as you and I. He and I talked a great deal about many things. And he is unafraid to share his opinions, no matter what they may be."

  "Lerner and I are just friends," I said, answering her unspoken question.

  "Will it always remain so?"

  "I don't see how it could be otherwise." I could hear the uncertainty in my own words.

  She nodded to herself, the smile slowly sliding from her face. She looked intently at our human guest down below. After many thoughtful heartbeats, she said, "I did not give birth to you, Gossamyr, but you are as much a daughter of my heart as any child could be from my own womb. And a mother knows. I worry about you. Despite what some think, it is not the dimmest among us that gets into the most trouble, but the very smartest. And you are the smartest youngster I have seen in the Tower in quite a while."

  Windrider sighed heavily. "If you are going to follow your feelings, as I know you will likely do, you are going to fly against a very difficult wind." She squinted at Lerner, her ears hugging her head. "More like a true storm, I would think."

  "Do you think I should not fly it?"

  She stood. "I did not say that. Because something is difficult does not mean that it is not worth pursuing. Just be very sure this is truly what you want, Gossamyr. And if you do decide to test your wings against this storm, do not give up for anything. Storms swallow all but the strongest fliers." She stole one last glance over the edge at Lerner, then rewarded me with a brief, fierce hug before walking away.

  I turned to regard the human myself, mulling over her words. Lerner at last spotted me and waved heartily in my direction. Heart fluttering at his unmistakable smile, so alien and yet so warm, I smiled and with just a little hesitation, waved back.

  TEN

  Few would argue that the Great Library is the most important Builder artifact site in the Known Nations. It not only allowed us to advance as rapidly as we did but it also gave us our connection to old Earth, the world of our ancestors and where this adventure called life originally began.

  According to history, when legendary warlord Thorena the Jackal captured the Great Library from the fanatical knowledge-priests that previously held it, she had been disappointed that the great UTSite building contained no great treasure or fantastical technology. Only very mundane books.

  The Great Library contained over a million volumes from old Earth, reproduced in exacting detail on long-enduring synth-paper. They covered ancient Sumerian religious texts all the way through 21st century paperback diet guides. Many believe that the Builders meant the Great Library to be a museum, to preserve the art of bookmaking as it was before the printed word became overwhelmed by electronic media sometime after the mid-21st Century.

  Thorena’s first impulse was to torch all the books, but luckily for us she recanted upon consulting her advisors and instead decided to use the knowledge within them to help found the Borelean Empire, which later evolved into our Known Nations.

  Our modern calendar marks the number of years since Thorena first captured the Great Library, sparking the genesis of our civilization.

  --from The Artifact Site Primer, the Primer Tour Book series, published 543, PandoraNet Media, Kylea.

  * * *

  “Brightwind!” I called desperately, my voice echoing down the cold corridors of the upper Tower. Beside me, Lerner mimicked my yell with his much deeper voice, hoping for some sign of the lost you
ngster.

  No answer.

  We had to find Cloud’s little brother soon. Already the wind whistling through the main corridors was picking up and the temperature was beginning to drop severely. The heart of the Skywrath would be upon us soon, and the upper levels of the Tower, with its many open ledges, was no place to be during such an event.

  Lerner’s people called the Skywrath a 'megastorm;' on old Earth they were called hurricanes, though the storms on that odd little ball-world rarely approached the ferocity of the one we now faced. My people believed Skywrath storms were the rage of the Sky Spirit given physical form. Someone, somewhere in the world had greatly displeased the creator of all things, and he showed his rage in wind and thunder.

  Lerner had explained to me that such storms weren’t supernatural at all, just a logical extension to the way the MegaShard was built. Not too far away from the Tower by MegaShard standards--a mere 60,000 kilometers--were a great series of oceans and waterways called the Forever River that Lerner’s people believed ran for five million kilometers, all the way from the center of the MegaShard to the rim. The Great Water Ocean several hundred kilometers away from us, half as large as Earth’s Indian Ocean, was but part of a minor tributary branching from that vast waterway.

  Megastorms began along the Forever River, usually in one ocean basin or another, starting out as mundane hurricanes. Every once in a great while, wind patterns and warm water currents would conspire to keep one of these hurricanes alive for months or even years on end, slowly growing in size and strength into an unstoppable atmospheric heat engine. These megastorms would slowly make their way along the length of the Forever River or its tributary waterways, sometimes for tens of thousands of kilometers, until they strayed over land and wreaked incredible havoc before finally dying away.