Jump to content
  • Join Gay Authors

    Join us for free and follow your favorite authors and stories.

    Rigby Taylor
  • Author
  • 5,937 Words
  • 1,239 Views
  • 7 Comments
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

NumbaCruncha - 10. The Men Tell All

The place was deserted when Peteru and Uretep arrived beside the flat boulder on which they’d sat the previous night.

‘Smell the air,’ Uretep whispered. ‘I feel so alive!’

‘I feel randy.’ Peteru grinned lecherously. ‘I thought I’d got used to arriving somewhere with a hard on, but this is different.’ He pulled a very willing Uretep onto the smooth mossy ground between the boulders.

‘The Men might come back.’

‘Do you think they’ll mind?’

‘Don’t care if they do’

Their lovemaking was gentle, passionate, and totally absorbing—a release from tensions that had been mounting for weeks, so it was a surprise on resurfacing to realise the Men had arrived on silent feet and were gazing down speculatively.

‘Welcome back,’ Bel’s deep voice said softly with the hint of a smile.

The two visitors sat up in consternation. ‘Sorry, we…’

‘Nothing to be sorry about.’

‘We were only…’

‘You were only expressing your deep and eternal friendship,’ Bel interrupted with a cheeky grin. ‘We had a meeting this morning to discuss you, your information and your situation.’ He paused dramatically.

‘And.?’ The nervous fear that seemed to have accompanied Peteru all his life came surging back, drowning his newfound joy in living. Didn’t these Men take him seriously? Was it all just a joke to them?

‘And we have decided to take the risk of believing you for the present.’

Both young men’s shoulders sagged in relief. ‘Thank goodness!’

Seb nodded brusquely and continued. ‘It is not a risk we would normally take; our rule is to prevent all sapiens from leaving their settlements and entering the forest. If your enforcers, as you call them, hadn’t murdered the people who tried to escape, we would have killed them anyway.’

‘We understand.’

‘Do you? I hope so. Are you hungry?’

‘No, thanks, but we’d love a drink of water.’

‘There’s a calabash beside you.’

‘How thoughtful.’

‘The air’s very hot and dry. That makes you thirstier than you realise, and that’s dangerous. Drink while we settle, help yourselves to anti-bug paste, then ask your questions.’

They drank the delicious cool water, applied insect repellent, conferred for the few minutes it took everyone to get seated, then Uretep asked, ‘What risk do sapiens pose?’

‘They are unable to live sustainably. To preserve the natural environment, we use only handmade tools from naturally available materials, and eat only what we gather and obtain by hunting, not farming. We maintain our population at a level that can be sustained by the environment. Some sapiens might want to live like that, may even try, but their evolutionary conditioning will never allow them to succeed. When the going gets tough—drought, difficult hunting, severe weather, looming starvation... they’ll gather in ever larger communities, start agriculture, make war on competitors, and revert to the same natural wasteful, destructive behaviour as all the other animals that evolved alongside them—setting off another destructive cycle that will probably destroy all life next time, turning the planet into just another sterile rock hurtling through space.’

‘Depressing picture. But I don’t understand why agriculture is bad.’

‘It requires the destruction of natural systems. Monoculture encourages disease. Evaporation from irrigation wastes precious water. Pesticides and herbicides poison everything. The list of evils is long and damning. Suffice it to say that agriculture is the number one destructive force, followed by medical advancements that allow the weak to survive. Without those two things and their tools, sapiens populations would never have gotten out of control.’

‘Surely they can learn from their mistakes?’

‘Have your Mages learned after a thousand years? The sad truth is that sapiens, like all evolved animals, are not able to override their evolutionary imperatives.’

‘But we’re different. We’d be able to live like you.’

‘What’s different about you?’

‘I reckon our evolutionary imperatives were deleted during our genetic makeover. And we haven’t been brainwashed to believe any one thing is good, bad, right or wrong. We’ve been left to think for ourselves with no preconceptions. We’re the only people in Oasis who are able to look at things dispassionately, think about them and change our minds when new facts emerge. We bear no resemblance to the Mages! After comparing your life with life in Oasis, we understand that yours is the only way to live that will not destroy nature.’

‘Not indoctrinated eh? That’s a first—if it’s true. Sapiens have always indoctrinated their offspring with irrational dogma because it’s an efficient means of controlling them. If the controllers had been wise and good it might have worked, but they’ve always been even crazier than the people they want to lead. If you brainwash people so they can believe the unbelievable, then they have no hope of extricating themselves from problems their beliefs have caused—such as the notion that Earth’s resources are inexhaustible.’

‘That’s so obvious I can’t believe anyone has ever thought anything so stupid.’

‘It’s the sole reason for the collapse of their civilization. But if you haven’t been indoctrinated there may be hope for you.’

The novelty and pleasure of discussing and talking about their ideas with other intelligent and articulate men dispersed all the visitors’ remaining nervousness.

‘You call us sapiens,’ Uretep said. ‘I guess you mean Homo sapiens. That means you aren’t. So what are you and where do you originate?’

‘About a thousand years ago some very smart geneticists made substantial genetic changes to carefully selected foetuses and produced a new species, which they called Homo novus, new man. But as we’re no longer new, we simply call ourselves Men. It will be up to whatever intelligent species follows us, if there is one, to give us a more descriptive name. Calling themselves Homo sapiens was the height of arrogance, and totally erroneous. Sapiens means knowing or wise, but nothing less wise has ever evolved. We call them sapiens as a sick joke.’

‘What would you call them?’

‘Homo toolmaker. Their sole claim to fame is making ever more complicated tools to destroy the environment in which they evolved. Your NumbaCruncha is just a tool to make travel easier and faster so they can destroy quicker. Metal knives are just tools to make cutting easier. Wireless is just a tool to speed up communication. Their greatest inventive efforts were spent on tools to murder, maim and destroy other humans in their eternal wars. The brains of Homo sapiens remain geared to the identical survival instincts of all other animals. They breed copiously and pay no heed to the environmental damage they do when building shelters, defending their territory, finding food, feeding, drinking, excreting or keeping themselves clean. Urbanised sapiens behave identically to caged animals; they neglect their young, foul their nests, pick fights, get depressed and sick. Not much wisdom in that sort of behaviour.’

‘I agree. But you used spears and knives to kill and cut up the boar—they’re tools.’

‘The spears are sharpened wooden sticks, hardened in a fire we made with friction using our own muscles. Several species of birds and primates use such simple tools. Our knives are sharp stones, also used by some birds and primates. Unlike other animals, however, we take great pains not to disrupt the environment. You saw us extinguish the fire and put everything back as it was before we left the lake. That’s because we are aware of our effect on the planet and try to minimise it, while other animals are not troubled by such notions. If we have to rely on our own strength and energy to survive, then forests, rivers, seas, animals and birds are safe from destruction.’

‘Yes. I can see that,’ Peteru said dreamily. ‘The Mages couldn’t have destroyed the forest and blasted gigantic holes to house Oasis without their tools, so they’d have died out long ago.’ He nodded to himself and remained silently thinking.

Uretep continued the questioning. ‘As you know, we’ve also been genetically modified, but we’re still sapiens. What’s the difference between you Men and us? We look the same.’

‘We are dual sexed—male and female in one body.’

‘Why?’

‘What is the most powerful natural urge of every living thing?’

‘To live?’

‘To procreate.’

‘Of course you're right. I wasn’t thinking.’

‘The female sapiens has to be protected and provided for when she is incubating and nurturing a child, which will need protection for many years. To ensure this, both males and females obey overpowering instincts to provide shelter and food, no matter the cost. To avoid failing in this essential requirement, sapiens have not been provided with a mental ‘switch’ to turn off these evolutionary imperatives. The result is that sapiens breed till there’s standing room only, eat till they die of obesity, and accumulate goods until all resources are exhausted and the planet is unable to support them.’ Seb paused to drink from a calabash.

Murmurs of agreement and serious nodding heads were clear indications that all the Men were very concerned about Oasis and its hordes of sapiens.

Leo took up the story. ‘Uncontrolled evolutionary imperatives like that don’t matter with other animals, because without clever tools they are the prey of accidents, disease and other large animals. That means there’s a limit to how much they can accumulate and store, and how many other species they can eliminate. These limits ensure there’s a seesawing survival of both plant and animal species, and thus the huge variety of essential environmental conditions that permit the evolution of new species, will increase.’

‘The problem is the way sapiens brains are wired,’ Seb continued. ‘There have always been a few wise sapiens able to see the error of their ways and who have done their best to spread ideas about how humans should live, but they’ve never been listened to. Childhood brainwashing by religions and schools have seen to that. Even when disaster loomed and their civilization began crumbling they couldn’t comprehend the notion that more than enough is too much, let alone translate that idea into actions that might have saved them. Evolved instincts have always prevented them from acting on self-evident wisdom. Instead of living with nature they increased the use of powerful tools powered by fossil fuels. They eliminated all competing species of plant and animal and reshaped the face of the planet. It took them only a couple of centuries to release into the atmosphere billions of tons of carbon that had taken hundreds of millions of years to be tucked away as coal, oil and gas. This had the effect of returning the atmosphere to its ancient state of violent storms, floods, droughts, permanent instability and great danger for all life.’

‘Is it still like that?’

‘Of course. It’s going to take millions of years, not a mere thousand to restore some climatic stability. You’ve been fortunate to have visited us during one of the quiet weather patterns.’

Peteru sat forward abruptly. ‘Maybe it wasn’t so odd. The Mages must know about the weather, that’s why they’re in such a rush to move everyone across, severe storms will further damage the already weakened structures.’

‘Sounds plausible.’

‘So you’re not solely the product of evolution; you were modified by geneticists. But someone very wise must have had the idea—it means there were some humans who weren't too bad. Was he also a scientist?’ Uretep’s mind remained fixed on the conundrum of whether he was Homo sapiens or something else, and if he should feel ashamed if he was.

‘No, they were simply two sensible, down to earth men—Sebastian and Jarek; two of the few Homo sapiens who deserved the species name. Determined to do something about the problem of human irrationality, they consulted other wise people and decided to engineer self-fertile hermaphrodites with a “stop switch” that could override irrational behaviour. To achieve this, they funded a well-equipped secret laboratory, and invited the best geneticists and technicians they could find. After several years, our progenitors were created.’

‘Why would they do that?’

‘To save non-human life on the planet from extinction. To stop earth becoming a barren rock, like Mars. Sapiens may have failed last time to destroy all life on Earth, but given a second chance they’d have succeeded. Those wise and brave men entrusted us with ensuring Homo sapiens never again became top of the pecking order. For the last thousand years every time it seemed as if there might be a resurgence of Homo sapiens in any area, we Men prevented it.’

‘In the light of what we’ve recently learned, that was wise.’ Peteru said thoughtfully. ‘Homo sapiens has behaved like a disease—a plague that must be exterminated.’

‘What exactly is this ‘stop switch’ you mentioned?’ Uretep asked.

‘The ability to override instinctive reactions and reflexes if they get in the way of rational decisions. Reflexes are vital if we’re faced with sudden danger, but they’re a problem when there’s time to think. Sapiens can never override the primeval urge to breed, store, and increase their possessions. Our brain is different, and can override ‘gut feelings’ or instincts if they’re no longer necessary, leaving us free to base our actions on reality, facts and observation. We not only understand the principle that more than enough is too much, but base our lives on it.’

‘How much is enough?’

‘Excellent question! We can easily make or find shelter that’s adequate. We have few problems hunting and gathering enough food, and there aren’t many dangers we can’t cope with or escape from using only our own strength and simple tools. That means our own strength is enough. If we’re warm and dry, that’s enough. And as we can work out how many Men are able to live off an area of forest or plain without upsetting the balance, we maintain a stable population that is enough and no more.’

‘Yes, yes, yes,’ Peteru repeated softly to himself before looking up with a huge grin. ‘Like you said, the problem is the way sapiens brains are wired! Yes! That’s it! It explains why the Mages are determined to cover the planet in cities like Oasis. They certainly have no ‘stop button’ when it comes to food and sex and desire for power. And they are determined never to die. Horrible.’

‘What are the Mages like when they’re together?’

‘They’re insane! Always bickering and arguing. Not surprising I guess as they’ve been living together for about a thousand years.’

‘And everyone else? Are they also sex mad and greedy?’

‘No chance of that when for hundreds of years everyone’s been medicated to chemically sterilise them and lower their sex drive. They only have sexual intercourse occasionally, and then mainly out of friendship or boredom, according to what we’ve recently learned. Every Vassal and Freemen dresses the same, works long hours, is fed a minimum balanced diet and shares ablutions, so they don’t have the opportunity to consume more than what’s required to keep them alive. The Mages have sex with their slaves all the time, they’re sex mad.’ Peteru shook his head in disgust. ‘You should see them after they’ve been transported by NumbaCruncha! No, on second thoughts, you shouldn’t, its nauseating.’

‘Do males and females get on well together?’

‘Until recently, but since the sex-suppressant drugs have been withheld, there have been flare-ups between them.’

‘Probably long suppressed evolutionary desires for babies are emerging and females are seeking mates. They can be aggressively competitive, apparently.’

‘But you guys have none of those tensions I suppose,’ Peteru asked.

‘Right again,’ Seb grinned. ‘With both sexes in the same body, tensions disappear. The male is also the female so there’s no worry about support for a child. There’s no wife to egg her man on to gain more money and a better a bigger house; no competition and jealousy among wives about who has the most powerful husband, or among husbands vying for the most attractive wife. We are our own husbands and wives and therefore can be satisfied with enough.’

‘Not only satisfied,’ someone said clearly. ‘Contented.’

A murmur of agreement ran through the Men.

‘How many of you are there,’ Peteru asked suddenly.

‘Here? Eighteen. In general? A dozen fewer than the environment they are living in can support, in case fire or drought or floods deplete the food supply. Usually, we only replace ourselves. This forest looks lush, but the weather’s fickle and we have to share everything with all the other animals. Unlike us, they can’t stop breeding if times are good, so when things are bad they starve. We want to avoid that unpleasantness, so we keep our numbers down.’

‘I can see your male genitals are like ours, can we see your female parts?’

‘Of course.’ Seb turned to a tall, very lean Man with visible, rope-like muscles. ‘Sim, everyone reckons you’ve the most beautiful vulva, come and show our guests.’

General laughter as he lay calmly on the flat stone and spread his legs.

There was just enough light to see everything clearly.

‘So that’s why you felt between our legs,’ Uretep said with a laugh. ‘How fascinating. But how do you make a baby?’

Sim demonstrated.

‘It’s amazing; you can pull your penis around and insert it completely in. It looks painful.’

‘It’s uncomfortable, but not painful.’

‘If you ejaculated now, would it be pleasurable? Would you have a baby?’

‘No and no. We have to wait until our body clock decides it is time to breed, and then an egg develops and we have the urge to inseminate it. It’s a good design that eliminates the wasteful monthly womb-shedding of female sapiens.’

‘And because it isn’t pleasurable, there’s no incentive to do it unless we really want a child,’ added Leo.

‘Do you always make your own child or do you also have another man’s? And do you have sex with other Men, Sim?’

‘Always our own child, unless there’s been an accident and we can’t inseminate ourselves. But that’s rare. As for sex with others, of course we do, in my case mainly with Leo, my partner, but also with the others if the desire’s mutual. It’s good for social cohesion if all members of a group occasionally enjoy sexual pleasure together as well as eating, talking singing, dancing and exercise. There’s no jealousy because we’re our own spouses—if that makes sense.’

‘Yes, it does... sort of. But if there’s no pleasure in it I don’t see…’

‘It’s only when we inseminate ourselves that ejaculation isn’t much fun, with others it’s wonderful.’

‘But won’t you have a baby if someone else has sex with you?’

‘No, because I’m the only one who uses that orifice. All social sex is done the same way you two were doing it when we arrived.’

‘So that’s why you weren’t shocked.’

‘We are not insane. Only a madman could be shocked by behaviour that gives pleasure and does no harm.’

‘Do you feel like two people, Sim? Do you think of yourself as we, or me?’

‘Me, of course. I am a complete being.’

‘How old are you?’

‘Seventy-four, Leo is seventy-two, Cos is fifty-two, Seb is twenty-eight, Jar is... forty isn’t it, Jar?’

‘Forty-two.’

‘But! That’s impossible. You all look the same age; not much older than us.’

‘That’s because one of our genetic modifications prevents the telomere from losing bits of itself. And that means our DNA doesn’t forget how to replicate and repair cells perfectly, so we don’t age. But we’re not immortal. We can’t grow a new eye, arm or leg, or repair serious trauma. Depending on how hard our lives have been we drop dead between the ages of sixty-five and seventy-five—I’m due to pop off any time now. To ensure continuance, we have our child when we’re around fifty-five, to give us time to teach him everything but not overpopulate.

‘Do you have a son, Sim?’

‘Yes, he’s nearly twenty. He and Leo’s son are hunting a few days hike from here. We’ll join them in a week—providing I don’t kark it before then.’

‘Does the idea of death worry you?’

‘No more than the absence of life worried me before I was born.’

Uretep turned to Leo. ‘Will you be sad when Sim dies?’

‘What’s the point of being sad about the inevitable? I’ll have memories and all the other Men. Without death, Uretep, there cannot be life. It would be stasis. Unchanging, and that is the same as death. It’s the knowledge that this is the one, short life I’m going to have that makes it so precious.’

‘Yes I can see that, but I don’t think I could go on living if Peteru died.’

‘That’s understandable, considering your active years are so short and you’ve no one to replace him. You would be totally alone. With us, although everyone has a different character, we all share the same values, hopes and desires, and we have sons who share many of our genes, so we are never alone.’

‘Sounds wonderful,’ Uretep said with a soft sigh.

‘Is getting rid of Oasis why you’re all here?’ Peteru interrupted.

‘Yes,’ Fee admitted. ‘Men have been coming here for centuries, trying to work out how to get rid of that place.’

‘And have you worked it out?’

‘No, Peteru, we haven’t. We have no protection from the laser shield that guards the Mages in their apartments. We’ve seen it zap and incinerate large wild animals that strayed too close, also a couple of fugitives that dropped off a balcony in the hope of making a run for the trees. We wanted to poison their water or air supply but the water’s so far underground we couldn’t access it and the packs of wild dogs they encourage by tossing them their unwanted slaves make approaching the old city too dangerous, even if it wasn’t for their weapons. We hoped they’d eventually begin to leave or explore so we could pick them off one by one, but you’ve told us that is never going to happen now that they’ve got your NumbaCruncha. We’re stumped, unless…’

‘Unless?’ Peteru prompted.

‘Unless you and Uretep are sincere in what you said yesterday, that you’d like to destroy Oasis.’

The two young men searched each other’s faces for a few seconds before nodding decisively. ‘We were sincere.’

‘And do you program the computer that runs the enseemats?’

‘Yes, and we might have a plan. But we have to discuss it together first.’

‘On that note of hope I declare it’s time for food,’ a deep voice called.

Everyone got up, stretched, raced to the pool, swam and returned to eat cold meat and vegetables that had been prepared earlier. To the visitors it was as delicious as the previous meal.

Back at the boulders the only light came from a fire that shed a soft, flickering glow, conjuring images of mysterious creatures that usually appeared only in dreams.

During the next two hours Uretep and Peteru discovered that this group of Men, or ‘mob’ as they called themselves, were one of a dozen similar sized groups that migrated up and down the land. Because of the precarious nature of their food supply they couldn’t remain in one place too long. It wouldn’t take much over-fishing or hunting to wipe out a species, especially as very unreliable weather already made survival a lottery.

Roughly nine hundred years earlier, their forefathers had observed the arrival of a small group of Homo sapiens in gigantic motorised vehicles filled with scientific equipment, tools, earth moving machinery and every implement necessary to rebuild their former lives. An underground bunker was the first thing they built, in which they managed to avoid the worst of the catastrophes that eventually killed off most of their species. The new arrivals were so well guarded and armed, there was nothing the Men could do but watch as they expanded their city.

Rising temperatures, wild seas, destructive storms, cyclones, floods, droughts, insect plagues, and diseases made life difficult for every animal and plant. Violence, insurrection, civil wars, hunger and disease destroyed the few human settlements remaining. Only their mobility and adaptability had so far prevented the Men’s extinction along with other already marginalised species.

‘As we said earlier,’ Fee said with a smile, ‘you’re lucky you visited us this month. In a couple of weeks, if the weather’s the same as it’s been for the last century or so, we can expect floods, hail, lightning strikes and a typhoon or six. That might change your mind about joining us.’

‘It sounds exciting.’

‘How about giant bloodsucking flies, swarms of wasps, battalions of biting beetles and leeches that can suck a healthy man dry in a couple of hours?’ A sleek cautious looking man introduced himself. ‘I’m Ari. You will find life with us often uncomfortable and dangerous, and perhaps boring.’

‘Nothing could be as boring as Oasis! Anyway, if we stay there we’ll be dead as soon as we’ve competed the installation of NumbaCruncha. But I’m amazed about the weather, we had no idea it was so changeable and dangerous. Down in the city every day’s the same.’

‘Dull but safe,’ Rez said wryly. ‘Think carefully before you dump that for a precarious life with us.’

‘We will,’ Peteru replied with a grin. ‘What beats me is that although you’ve rejected all technology—no books, computers or records—somehow you know all these facts, dates and figures? And you’re able to understand everything! Even NumbaCruncha didn’t faze you!’

‘We do what humans did for hundreds of thousands of years before they became addicted to permanent written records,’ Rez explained. ‘We use our memory. The human brain has almost unlimited capacity to visualise, calculate, think, reason, remember and recall. All the important happenings and doings of the last three thousand years is passed from father to son, and updated as we live and learn more.’

‘That’s amazing!’

‘Not at all. It’s a natural, inbuilt mental program that every human has and can use unconsciously. It was no effort for you to tell us thousands of facts about Oasis from memory, and I’ll bet you could build your NumbaCruncha from scratch again without plans.’

‘We could remember the plans and calculations, but we’d have to draw them again to make sure…’ Peteru considered what he’d said. ‘No! I reckon you’re right. If we had the equipment and materials, we could build one again from memory. Couldn’t we Uretep?’

‘Possibly, but I don’t want to.’ He turned to Rez. ‘Tell us about the end of sapiens civilization. We’ve a rough idea from some old videos, but....’

‘OK, but it’ll have to be short. It’s getting late,’ Zen interrupted. ‘Where to begin? Just over a thousand years ago technological and medical advances allowed Earth’s population to increase until twelve thousand million people were fighting for food, water and living space. The by-products of industrialisation changed the climate, and urbanisation gobbled up arable land. Forests were replaced by food crops, whose toxic run-off killed the fish. Crops failed. Millions starved.

‘Urban waste and seepage of lethal radiation from nuclear power plants destroyed water supplies. Dust storms spread toxic airborne particles. The Greenland and Antarctic icecaps slid into the sea creating tsunamis that wiped out whatever remained on the coast. Only the obscenely wealthy one percent of humans, whose greed had been the primary cause of the problems, found refuge in fortified enclaves such as your Oasis.’

‘But how could it have happened? Didn’t they see it coming?’ Peteru asked in bewilderment.

‘They saw it coming, but chose to listen to sloganeers who promised technology would solve all problems, as long as everyone consumed more and had more children. Sensible people who advocated the opposite were ignored. When things failed to improve, wealthy countries sent their airplanes to bomb, invade, slaughter and pillage the food from poorer countries, so they could live a few years longer.

‘Religious leaders added to the chaos by insisting the world’s problems were caused by mankind’s failure to please the gods. All pretence at democracy disappeared and survival depended on how cold-blooded and vicious someone was. Opponents were tortured or burned to death. Life for the non-elite became a living death, and nowhere was safe.

‘Eventually, every coastal city, ninety percent of the food-producing flood plains and deltas, and all the lands at or below sea level were reduced to poisoned salt marshes or inland seas. Millions caught diseases, starved, or were murdered for their food. Cannibalism became the norm.’

‘It sounds dreadful!’ Peteru whispered.

‘It was utter insanity. Homo toolmaker’s childish refusal to share the planet with other species ensured their own extinction; taking with them nearly all other life on the planet,’ Jar replied sadly. ‘For a while, ragged groups of humans eked out miserable existences on useless land; fighting, worshipping their malevolent gods, punishing dissidents—carrying on as humans always have. Poor nutrition meant fewer live births; then even these stopped about three hundred years ago.’

Jar stopped talking and the forest seemed to creep closer. Threatening. A reminder, if one were needed, of the tenuous grip all seemingly robust organisms had on life.

Bel took up the story and explained that the once vast continent was now a long, relatively narrow strip of mountains and valleys stretching from sweltering wet tropics to the slightly cooler, drought stricken south. To the West, seas had invaded from both north and south, triggering gigantic earthquakes and creating a vast shallow sea dotted with rocky outcrops. According to rumour, about a thousand kilometres away on the far side was a chain of rough hills facing a wild sea, but this couldn’t be verified as in all their years of wandering up and down the Men had met no one who had crossed and returned.

Vast toxic swamps blanketed in a miasma of noxious gasses that paralysed then killed, were all that remained of the once extensive coastal cities, and all life in a radius of hundreds kilometres had disappeared. Fish poisoned anyone foolish enough to eat the foul smelling flesh.

Inland towns decayed, leaving rotting concrete carcasses. In most of those places too, a careless visitor could stumble into a foetid bog and be overcome by poisonous fumes.

It had been two centuries since any sapiens had been sighted, apart from Oasis. In the past, when Men had come across refugees they’d followed secretly, leaving them to die naturally. If it looked as though they might succeed in establishing themselves, however, the Men had ensured they didn’t.

A thoughtful silence descended as if everyone had been mesmerised by the smoke and fluttering pale moths swirling lazily up from the fire. The only sound a low buzzing emitted by large brown and green beetles flying through the flames as if it was a game.

‘Thanks. Its been incredibly interesting,’ Uretep said thoughtfully, rubbing at his eyes. ‘I know it’s getting late, but what about children—how do you have them, care for them, teach them; we’re ignorant because no sapiens in Oasis has given birth for hundreds of years.’

‘There’s nothing complicated about having children,’ Leo said casually. ‘We carry the developing embryo in our bellies for two hundred and seventy days, then contract our muscles and he pops out the same orifice the sperm went in. We wash him and carry him on our backs or bellies in a sling made of woven plant fibre, feeding him with nutritious food we’ve chewed for them. A few weeks after birth the child can walk and is eating the same food as us. By one year he’s able to follow us everywhere. He is educated from birth till death by experimentation, making mistakes, observation, example, teaching and advice.’

‘You guys are so wise, it makes me feel useless.’

‘We’ll all be useless if we don’t get some sleep. You two can stay with us if you like,’ Leo said nonchalantly as he walked towards the forest.

The other men dispersed silently in different directions while Peteru and Uretep nervously followed Sim and Leo about a hundred metres into the forest to the base of a large tree. A loop of thick vine hanging a metre from the ground was the route to a platform high above the forest floor. After hoisting themselves up, the young men collapsed onto a springy floor of woven palm fronds.

‘My shoulders,’ Peteru wailed, ‘they feel as if they’ve been torn out. I’ve never climbed like that before. Lucky it’s dark or I’d never have dared. How’d you make this? How high are we? And why?’

‘It’s made of branches lashed between forks. We’re about forty metres up because mosquitoes and other night-flying bloodsuckers usually remain closer to the ground where they can avoid the little bats that eat them. Wild boars, wild dogs, poisonous centipedes, scorpions and ticks also remain nearer ground level. Up here we’re safe from a flash flood, and fine unless there’s a cyclone.’

‘Was the smoky fire to discourage pests?’

‘Yes.’

‘What about rain?’

‘Palm fronds keep off most rain; if it’s a deluge everyone gathers in a cave high in the side of the escarpment.’

‘Why don’t you always sleep there?’

‘Eighteen Men, no matter how mentally and physically attuned to life together, need privacy and time alone with their partners to re-establish intimacy, allow their minds and bodies to catch up with recent events, and prepare for another day. A life spent in constant social contact is emotionally and intellectually draining and soon ends in arguments or worse.’

‘Makes sense. Uretep and I would never have survived if we’d had to live a communal life like the Vassals. But how come this nest is large enough for four?’

‘We built it twenty years ago when we had our sons. There were four of us until they moved out last year.’

But you’re only here for a few weeks each year, how come it’s in such good condition?’

‘Everyone makes repairs to their nests each time we return. It’s no fuss.’

‘It’s really good of you to invite us.’

‘No it isn’t. We miss our boys so it’s like old times to have a couple of young men sharing—for a while.’

‘Don’t worry; we won’t outstay our welcome. The first thing we’ll do is build our own nest.’ Uretep peered over the edge. ‘It’s much lighter up here than down by the fire.’

‘More stars and moonlight. Now sleep. Over there against the trunk, so you don’t fall off. If you need to pee, make sure you don’t face the breeze.’

Sim and Leo curled up together on one side and were instantly asleep.

‘I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sleep,’ Uretep whispered with a soft yawn.

‘Me neither.’

They curled together, Peteru tucked in behind Uretep, and within seconds both had tumbled into a deep and dreamless sleep, not waking until Leo pushed them gently.

‘Sun’s up. We have work to do if we’re not to starve, and you’ve a planet to save from sapiens. Breakfast in ten minutes.’ Leo’s smiling head dropped out of vision, leaving his guests to stretch and stare in disbelief at the magnificent sunrise illuminating the forest canopy with fingers of gold. Then they looked down and fear clutched at their bellies. ‘How on earth did we drag ourselves up here? I’ll fall going down, I know I will, it’s too high, it’s…’

‘OK, stay there then,’ Sim laughed as his head too disappeared, and the vine swayed.

Several shoulder-aching minutes later they managed a weak-kneed stagger to the pool for a refreshing dip.

Copyright © 2018 Rigby Taylor; All Rights Reserved.
  • Like 11
  • Love 4
Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
You are not currently following this author. Be sure to follow to keep up to date with new stories they post.

Recommended Comments

Chapter Comments

It was probably a fairly even battle between nature and "sapiens" until the industrial revolution. And somehow we just never learned those lessons that would have come so easily to previous generations. I am not talking how we treated each other; thats been pretty apalling from day 1. Somehow around 1780-1820, we started to smack the hell out of mother nature. She tolerated us for a while, but I think we have taken her to her limit. Not sure it will take 1000 years for her to get back on top.

 

Great story, thanks...

  • Like 1
3 hours ago, Canuk said:

It was probably a fairly even battle between nature and "sapiens" until the industrial revolution. And somehow we just never learned those lessons that would have come so easily to previous generations. I am not talking how we treated each other; thats been pretty apalling from day 1. Somehow around 1780-1820, we started to smack the hell out of mother nature. She tolerated us for a while, but I think we have taken her to her limit. Not sure it will take 1000 years for her to get back on top.

 

Great story, thanks...

You are right about the effects of industry, but i'd go back even further, I blame the use of metal. Until then nature had a chance against humans - as seen in the New Zealand Maoris who had no metal because there Wasn't't any except for gold, and that's no use. And Indigenous Australians lived without metal tools using only the energy from the sun - also the forest people of Borneo - but once a metal tool - e.g. knife - appears, nature hasn't a chance. I'm pleased you're enjoying it. Thanks.

  • Like 1
View Guidelines

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now


  • Newsletter

    Sign Up and get an occasional Newsletter.  Fill out your profile with favorite genres and say yes to genre news to get the monthly update for your favorite genres.

    Sign Up
×
×
  • Create New...