M
mark chaney
LIVING BY LIGHT
Sub light.just thought.
Spiraling down like a feather to the ground.
Reach twenty and pause.
From beyond the mounds of druid's summit, closing to the woods of normanton
down, there came sounds. Mystical musical chords that arrived overhead like
the arrows from a bow.
Scan from rise to rest.
First the beating of rhythmic drums resounded through the trees and lifted a
swathe of movement all along the horizon. In the distance a ragged army
seemed to advance.
Correct to hover.dispatch orb.
From the resonance of strings, to the whistling of flutes, musicians
marched forward upon the fields of olde sarum.
Closer.now visible.
Beneath a canopy of summer leaves, came human voices singing. A rustic
choir incanted ancient runes and filed from out of the woodland trees,
through the pastures of fresh green wheat and on to the expanse of Salisbury
plain.
Here and now, it is summer and below the sweet scent of woodruff drifted
lazily through the air. The land shone vibrant and healthy, all was at peace
with this world. Tribes were gathering to be beside the tumuli and rings, to
celebrate last year's light with the first fire of the new season. The Sun
shone hazy with the outlying clouds, yet still its powers cast speckles of
gold on to the giant stones. The mottled lichen and the matrix of the stone
shimmered with the star, a fire of dancing flames.
Pitch and descend.
It is later in the evening and all discussions have ended; it was time for
celebration, the summer solstice, the beginning of a new year.
Open.360.
Encampments were established everywhere, yet none were allowed within the
henge itself. Tents, marques, tepees, shacks and sheds were scattered about
the ground undisciplined. Burning firewood, roasting spicy meat, herb
lavender and common gorse fixed with the evening mist, an ability to taste.
A thousand happy faces some flushed ruby with excitement, other glowed
intermittently from the warm mead and honeyed wormwood. Leather smacked and
raced tassels turning in a spin. " Tonight is not to fight, for tomorrow
live another day"
Track northeast.
Rebecca sat closest to the burning flames, the fire lit up her eyes with
momentary vigour, then perched scanning and squinting, drifting back into
the past with a sparkle and a smile. You could see it in her face, Rebecca
was once indeed a damsel so fair, her beauty had cut many a man's heart.
However, that was in the olden days and the twinkle as she reminisces events
long, long ago. Rebecca was old and at an age, when referred to as being old
was deemed by all acceptable. She had reached her centennial with honor and
pride.
Everything stopped in sudden silence, as she held up her right hand to show
them her signature and scar. The crowd cheered, moving closer, as Rebecca
looked to the heavens acknowledging the waking stars with wise old eyes.
Spiral up.align for the past.
SOON
Does death now have wings?
All around was a pearl blind white, a monotone of endless and relentless
cold.
Mechanical sounds, the discernable noise of thudding helicopter blades are
heard vuumping off and away into the distance. Beneath and welcoming to the
eye, several shiny objects clear broadly into focus. Rising from the frozen
surface, a troop of frosty silver igloos stood out against the endless
white, like a jeweled platinum ring. This was the southern atmospheric
monitoring station known to the world, as SAMS. Located on Norwegian
territory near Vestfjella, its presence remains remote from any forms of
civilization and safely secured to the freezing ice of the Antarctic
southern pole. Its benefit to humanity today, wrestles against the horror of
its recent past. Vestfjella was a once a killing den and thriving whaling
station. S.A.Ms, was a scientific research laboratory at the cutting edge
of science. For the last few years, the station had been monitoring a
strange phenomenon that was taking place within the biosphere. A rogue
weather feature had evolved, a Frankenstein, combining leftover elements of
chemical warfare, airborne viruses, and dangerous chemical pollutants. This
deadly cloud circumnavigated the planet, existing under any meteorological
conditions, devastating every sign of life wherever it became, as evil as
any medieval plaque. Environmentalists campaigned for action and a last
desperate warning, like the last desperate warning, came to industrialists
as another unicorn, a mysticism that went unheeded.
The Sun, a pale disc barely skimmed above the frozen horizon. Some grains of
radiance now filtered through the atmosphere, which lit the crest of an
impending weather front and the cool embrace of battle grey and angry nimbus
clouds. Approaching with stealth from the south, the cloud seemed to spread
out like a sickly stain and as with most weather features, it portrayed a
form. Two towering horns reached around the distant horizon and were raised
into the heavens sending burning gold's into the sky with heat and haze. A
satanic face with hollow eyes grinned around the jawbone as its claw like
hands seemed to be rubbing with anticipating glee. A reddening mane bristled
high into the stratosphere and an unnatural feeling of a darkening energy
held the local atmosphere transfixed. As it draws ever closer, the scent of
acidic salts filled the air and the splattering of toxic precipitation stung
the freezing surface. Yellowing pools of hissing gas formed lakes of noxious
death. An increasingly howling gale blew up a storm, and strange demonic
voices seemed locked within its center. The demon shouted louder and louder
with hysterical laughter and mocking obscenities, it crackled and croaked
incanting Latin tales from hell. Lightning bolts, crashing thunder and a
hurricane of force project it ever forward; the tempest had arrived. For a
few moments, everything spun into a miasmic swathe and then as abruptly as
it had started, all disappeared.
Silence clung and a perfect halo appears at the zenith. At eye of the
storm, and for a few brief moments, absolutely nothing stirred.
The poisonous cloud moves northwards on, only its front carries such that is
death. After the silence came the natural back force, blizzards of snow that
eventually cover and freeze the poisonous pools. This is nature's strength a
natural force that hounds a world way, beyond the shrieking fifties and the
roaring forties. Its might hits the stations outer entrance with pace, a
hush of air inside destroys the vacuum of the faraday doors, and they slowly
open up. A few moments later and the mechanism purr's itself shut. In here,
the wind and the weather are absent, as the environment is very carefully
controlled. Another hush of air as the vacuum returns and releases the inner
door to reveal the inner sanctum and central chamber. Steel floors and wall'
s clad the inner skin, giving the entire inner structure the appearance as
one metallic mass. At waist level, stainless steel worktops continued to
complete the circumference. Science projects with chemistry and biology
devices littered the tops, every few meters swivel chairs were placed, and
all were empty. A computer accompanied each seat and displayed its imagery
holographically. Molecular structures, system schematics and mathematical
formulas rose up from flat dark mats. The bleating lights and the humming
gadgetry sparkled on and off. Their motions indicated that they still
attended some function or duty. All this technological industry a contrast,
because the station itself was deserted and void of any form of organic
life.
"Capitalism carries within itself war, as clouds carry rain" [J.J. Jaures]
MT (micro-tech) is a global giant, an Anglo-American consortium
established secretly before the last millennium. It now existed openly, and
for a singular purpose, to insure the few elite, remain the few elite. For
this, MT successfully constructed and supplied the latest military
technological gadgetry.
The Personal Information Processor, commonly known, as the "pip" is that
current, "state of the art, must have" device. Ultimately slick, as
presentation with such products is always handsomely applied. Extremely
expensive and ergonomically shaped to fit the contours of wrist all
effortlessly light, like a dark sweatband. Multi-tasking and organically
powered through barometric pressure, kinetic movement and solar energy. The
non-mechanical parts enabled lifelong usability, the drives were constructed
from seamless zero gravity compound platinum and silica, with software
systems already applied. Enigmatically encrypted programs made the whole
device personal and its build quality made it virtually indestructible. The
pips dutiful purpose was to simulate the functions of a synthetic human
mind, an almost life, in its ability. Scholar programming with integrated
logic, gave a far superior learning curve. It hungered for the collating of
data on every global subject, level and task. Client specific DNA and user
voice activated commands held fast the security. It displayed visual
requests through projection of holographic imagery, a system of light
trickery known as GZAM, (Gustav Ziess Aurae Monitor) another industry of MT.
Such systems had previously guided drones with deadly accuracy and laser
bombs to their horrifically surprised targets in the jungles of South
America, the slopes of the Korean peninsular and the desserts of the Middle
East.
The pip had been commercialised and acceptable for civilian use for many
years. In the public domain it proved absolutely vital, with high status in
demand. Its resourcefulness had made it unique. The pip was indeed rapidly
becoming as useful an implement to modern man, as much was once his knife.
Peoples, governments and states that rely solely on such technology, reflect
certain arrogance. They relished these gifts so deeply sought and were so
easily by such gifts, betrayed.
"Let your thought's dip deep into the stream or shall those depths be never
fathomed"
Anchored just beyond the sparkling reef of paradise beach, a few kilometers
South of Richards bay and Southern Africa, the Green Peace flagship Gaia
floated on the warm agulhas tides like a graceful swan. She drifted in
silent elegance on the mirrored calmness of the warm green Indian Ocean.
Gaia was perfect in her setting being so beautifully designed. Ancient
lines like the clipper yet as able as a modern schooner with her twin blower
turbines, still on standby. Her rigging rising full to the topmast in
readiness of command and the breeze or blowers will fill her sails. Gaia was
not alone, nor had she been for several years. Returning from the cold Gaia
had been stalked every inch of the way by the frigate USS Clinton and the
Australian coastal command vessel Barracuda. Gaia was an international
vessel with an international crew. The captain was a fundamentalist green
American from the big easy, occasionally sharp and as equally jovial. He was
everything that's best in Uncle Sam, well educated, forthright, and
committed to the cause. Even though the radar, satellites, and various
bugging devices held, Gaia's every position. The captain had developed over
several years, tactics so that he and his colleague a German eco-agent could
slip the observation net and undertake a special conference on the beach
beside the shore. By means of clever computing and the resourcefulness of a
local chokka fishing fleet, they both entered the warm waters and without
the foe, ever noticing managed to snorkel and slip ashore. The Captain and
the German hop scotched up the blistering beach, its sand all white and
glittering with heat. They briefly cooled their soles in pools besides the
rocks and continued unseen. Sneaking directly into the awaiting beach cabin,
they quickly changed into the pre-prepared dries. They both kept smart while
hurrying to the bar where another special agent would brief them with the
update of events, and further them the task.
Africa shone, her lonely subtropical coastal charm, brushed vibrant with
passionate colours and scintillating flair. The sky a cobalt blue was clear
with hardly a cloud to spoil the view. Cycads and the browning wintry of
raffia palms whistled and whispered gently about the dunes. Monkeys and
parrots chatted vigorously in the low-slung mangroves, coconut palms, and
chinobar trees. The saltiness in the atmosphere was perfumed with the
sweetness of ozone and the warmth the ear lapping sea. The setting was about
as far from the cause as it could be, almost surreal. A mission so dark and
dangerous to pursue, awash, in the splendor of this sunny paradise. An enemy
so vile still haunted them, into this heavenly tropical utopia.
The temperature seemed hotter in the circular beach shabeen, a thatched lapa
set on pile driven gum poles, a meter or so above the fine white sand. The
ceiling was a thinning cape spray and through these gaps beams of light
stung at the wooden sandy floor. The semi circular walls were made of reed
and decorated with various marine items, driftwood, and large cabana shells.
In the center a semi circular walnut bar, behind which a large Zulu barmen
was entertaining its visitors.
"So Frank.can you get him out" the American Captain asked wiping his
forehead clean of the salty beads with a soggy wet hanky.
"Whoa china.their breath lies hot and heavy on my neck" the khaki Afrikaner
retorted, swigging directly from the cool condensing bottled quart.
"Can you help us or not Herr van der merwe?" the little German eco-agent
demanded twitching frantically while sipping at the rim, a glass of cool ice
tea.
The Afrikaner did not answer; his bright blue eyes gazed out wearily from
his weather beaten face, they reached out staring at the deep, as equally
unfathomable in thought.
"For Gods sake man.can you get him out or not" the fractious American
captain increased his volume and tone, whilst fidgeting uncomfortable on the
dryness of land and the sweaty heat.
The tall Zulu barman drifted anxiously towards the meeting and gave the
Captain a completely threatening glare. Franks nodded for the Zulu to
desist, the barman winks and returns to his duties, cleaning the shot glass.
"Jezzus you okes.look sleepy I'm up too here with you bleddy foreigners
telling me what I have to do for them.I've enough kak here to arrange for
me-self" Frank smarted and acting furious with rage picked up his beer
bottle and slammed it down hard onto the bar next to the German.
"Ja.ja es gibt immer ein arschloch" the German stuttered.
" Frank.you've gotta be aware of the importance and what is at stake here"
the American Captain now lowered his volume considerably and frowning with
all the muscles in his face, he starred pleading with concern.
The Afrikaner shook his head and dropped his shoulders in frustration, then
huffed while scratching at his blonde crew cut hair, he sighed a little and
pointing both arms to the sea in resignation, letting out a gentle moan.
"Frank you have got to do something.you're our last hope and you damn well
know it.Pretoria said you would definitely help us," the Captain begged.
"Okay butte.I can get this man to the capital.but that's as far as I go"
Frank knew he would have to give in and a little reluctantly he agreed to
their demands.
"Is the pip there and who will guide me home?" the little German professor
sharply questioned, they all suddenly blinked as the wind blew up
expectantly from the sea, it temporarily removed a large cluster of shade
and the burning Sun caught in all there eyes.
"The pip.I don't have a clue about the pip...man. maybe its in Pretoria.I
wouldn't know and to be honest I no longer care" Frank lied as he put his
hand to shade his eyes, within that instant the clump of shade returned.
" I hope its there my friend" the German spat indignant.
" There my friend.if you are lucky you might further the cause" The
Afrikaner stared into the Germans eyes while finishing gluging to the foam,
he wiped his lips, stamped the bottle down once more and ordered another
beer.
"Thank green spirits and blue angels" the American Captain cheered " I can
leave you two too it, good-bye" the American Captain broadened his smile and
congratulated both men with the keenest of departures, his lasting efforts
seen heading back to the cabin and out onto the beach with goggles, snorkel
and flippers he slid back into the warm corralled sea.
"When and where in Pretoria will I find the pip und how far can this
man.your friend take me," the German demanded, also finishing his mineral
drink, wiping his lips, stamping it down and ordering another.
The Afrikaner opened up his own pip wrist communicator and proceeds to type
in the encrypted text. A few awkward moments existed between them. Frank
continued to stare while the German fixed his eyes onto the beautiful
horizon and sighed as the replying text bleeped in.
"And" the German quizzed.
"You can prepare for leaving this continent within the hour, disguised as a
South African economic attaché. There you will transit in a diplomatic
convoy of various other ethnic attachés.you'll fly to Lusaka and join the
African crisis delegation departing for Hamburg and the European talks.they
will arrive in Germany tomorrow lunch time.you can find your own way home
from there I hope.Herr Kuntz" the Afrikaner deliberately dictated the
response.
"Excellent" the German replied ignoring the sarcasm.
Frank and the German both decided on staying until Gaia and her stalking
escort had completely left the bay. The German looked back at Frank in
trying to understand the man. Frank was a leader in the militant green's, he
was also a renowned biochemist and responsible for some of the most
notorious environmental escapades in recent times. In over thirty years of
eco-service, Frank had only once been caught and even then escaped.
Frank regarded the German Werner Kunz with equal admiration; he knew that
Werner had discovered the poison cloud many years ago and that Werner was
the Professor of the Atmospheric Conditions Monitors at Harvard and
Cambridge universities. He had also heard that Werner had spent several
years in a Russian prison, captured protesting at a scrap yard of nuclear
waste at an oil refinery near Murmansk.
"Tell me Herr van der Merwe. why are you always so rude we are working for
the same side" the German twitched a half smiled at him.
"My friend I've been opened from here to here by the cause" frank replied
drawing a line beneath his chin from his left ear to his right.
"Does it have to make you so unfriendly towards your comrades" the Professor
jittered.
"Ja" Frank nodded
" And that is the way you with us to entertain each other on this long and
arduous journey" the Professor stuttered concerned.
" Look china.the less I know about you the better and that goes for me too.I
don't want to know because if they catch me they will torture me and I've
been there before.believe me it hurts.it hurts enough to talk" Frank
shuddered.
" We can still smile from time to time or not.Herr van deer Mere" the German
tried his best to smile, but perhaps it is simply not in German genes. A
sudden hideous contortion that took a form akin to the expressions being
required whilst squitting out the last dregs of fiery dysentery. Frank
stared at Werner's comical struggling before breaking into a smile of which
he could not control himself.
"No.a smile assumes recognition" Frank held back the tears.
"Never.ever smile.mine got was fur ein leben" the Germans painful grinning
turned into a frowning grimace.
"Never.ever smile" Frank cried aloud.
Frank took the quickest route to Pretoria still some seven hours away.
Climbing into the parched arid soils of the seringa tree and the high veld.
They spoke little on the way but eventually each gained a notion of the
comradeship they felt. What they were doing was right; that life itself has
meaning and that for both of these men its virtue became apparent and
sufficient.
The Jacaranda trees of Pretoria lined the avenue to the union buildings with
confetti of purple blossoms; falling sapphire petals littered the streets.
Frank parked up and the German professor got out.
"Njani.Professor" Tula Malinga greeted him with a wide toothy African beam.
"Njani.Tula" the professor stammered shocked at seeing that his escort was
not only a woman but also an extremely tall ethnically dressed Zulu. "Please
tell me that you do have the pip?" The German extremely anxious, that this
single mystery could at least be solved.
"I think you have it now.Professor" Tula broadened her grin until it
encompassed her whole face.
Werner reached into his jacket pocket and in that very same moment, the
flashing lights signaled Frank's departure as he headed off into the sunset
and on to the next certain phase. Werner pulled the shiny object out into
the last light of day, also smiling but this time more appropriately than
before. Werner with that sudden sharpness knew, that he had now become the
latest high profile client for disposal on the states darkest list.
Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri,
Quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes. [Horace]
The visitor is not of this earth, nor from our solar system or even our
galaxy. He is from a galaxy at the very edge of our understanding beyond the
Virgo Supercluster. His species has the start of a millennium or more
advances in science. As we have learnt to leave this Earth, his kind has
occupied their understandings in traveling through many dimensions and the
enormity of time and space.
His crafts propel themselves through space by three means. Firstly, a galaxy
class starship using neutrino based technology. Secondly, a solar system
craft utilizing gravitational vortex control. Thirdly, a terrestrial class
craft, making use of a planet's electromagnetic fields. All forms of craft
appeared similar in one way, they were shaped into large translucent
spheres. The surface of which sporadically glowed with a rainbow type sheen.
The only object visible within each of them at the core was a small dark orb
shining like the pupils of an eye.
Suddenly within its mass there was click, like a trigger being released and
a fluorescent green mist rose out from the inner skin and swirled about
inside. A louder click and a flash of light ignite some life into small
golden orbs. These little golden orbs rise in columns and encircle the
craft. In delta formation, they speed into a single twisting path and crash
toward the central. Another intense flash of light before a single image
starts to appear.
The view of space outside was spectacular and the visitor, his craft, and
the golden orbs survey their new surroundings, with noisy excitement. In an
instant they had reached the Oort cloud at the distant borders of our solar
system. The visitor collates the navigation information, while circling the
barren debris of these rocks and life's explosive past.
Within the blinking of an eye, the visitor arrived at Pluto, the so-called
lord of the underworld. Silver strands are propelled from the craft towards
the planet; they intersect the surface as geometric gridlines. Closing in
upon this little world, a shoal of golden orbs are released and while the
visitor passes silently over the faint mist and thin veneer of Pluto's
atmosphere, they return and fill the imager with cloned particles and copied
molecular structures. There is a sudden silence of activity, as Pluto's moon
Charon appears, rising from the east, to escort Pluto on its mystical path
through the depths of deepest space. The visitor, his craft, and the golden
orbs pause for a moment's reflection as to the beauty of planets and their
satellites, then travels further on. Silver strands are sent out and silver
grid lines reappear, encircling the mass of a giant blue planet; the
flashing lights and the golden orbs jig merry with enthusiasm once again, as
Neptune, a God of the sea, appears for the visitor and orbs to study. The
orbs leave the craft and after a short while, they return and build more
complex elements and structures into the visual machine. They leave this
gentle giants atmosphere and head off into space. Uranus the seventh planet
accompanied by many moons and encased by many charcoal rings. Once the
information was compiled and stored, and they effortlessly proceed. Saturn
the sixth and second largest planet and a slightly brightening Sun. They
collect the complex gaseous molecular structures, which so excite and
entertain the dancing orbs. Jupiter, God of the sky, the fifth and largest
Planet, so immense, all the planets combined could comfortably fit within
his jovial mass. Swirling clouds, of oranges and browns spin within its
high-speed rotation. This time they pause, and take in its true magnificence
and of course its known significance to them, without Jupiter, its unlikely
that any other planet within this system would ever exist. Stationary, the
visitor, his craft, and golden orbs continue to collect data. The orbs
bleep with the anticipation exposed by radar revealing the four terrestrial
planets. The visitor, his craft, and orbs continue and skillfully navigate
through a belt of asteroids. Mars, the God of war appears to greet them,
how bright it shines these nights. This planet was nearly close enough to
the Sun, a mere tiptoe on this solar system hike. The dancing orbs flicker
with exhilaration as they approach the dusty red planet, molecules appear
and disappear in rapid succession. Then something new, a faint laser of
pearl like particles released; they form into a ghostly mass and beam down
to the planets surface. They return in silence with the knowledge that not
everything we hold is purely data. An important moment had occurred, the
visitor along with the orbs turn to view the imaging machine.
Slowly the craft manoeuvres gently starboard, the visitor and orbs gasp.
The crazy golden orbs explode into excited activity, they whirl about the
craft, which can hardly contain them, enthralled by the beauty that beholds
them, they reach a climax and ejaculate into an orgasmic frenzy.
Gaia, our Mother Earth shrouded in the mystery of time and space continuum.
The bluish hue of her elegant oceans, the reds, the oranges, the greens and
the browns of fertile lands, clear between the whiteness of serenely sailing
clouds. The visitor and his companions were mesmerized; indeed this was a
priceless jewel within an unknown pit of darkness. For the humans and every
living thing below, this planet was at this stage, their only hope.
Entering the geo-stationary orbit and rapid bursts of activity take place
as the gathering of data, continues. Molecular structures, particle physics,
and chains of DNA appear on the imager. There followed a sudden pause, one
of the many satellites seemed to evoke much interest. An Itec Corolla Mk
0157 scientific and military global surveillance and communication
satellite, was busying itself transmitting information back and forth.
The visitor and his companions hover in the static thermosphere the
boundary of space, well above the northern summer skies. The crest of the
Sun rises in the east escorted by the exquisiteness that is the dawning of
another day. The visitor monitors the systems and dispatches a football size
orb to investigate. The orb speeds to the signal that is bleating from the
drifting helium balloon in the stratosphere below. It follows the chorded
line to find the tagged and precious cargo. A data retrieval canister
contained nothing but the world's second most important pip.
The orb approaches its goal, slowing to a stop and in mid air it gracefully
settles like a magnetic counter balance. The orb spins, side on to the
silver canister and their reflections for a moment transpose. Within the
fluttering moment of its organic shutters the pip released the information
and communicated the data back to the visitor. The orb foot tapped
impatiently as it waited for the command to tack away. The visitors request
arrives and to the orbs relief, it free falls like a hunting falcon swooping
to the ground, stopping once more to balance a few meters above the cool
embrace of freshly fallen snow. The orb extends an eye as a camera; it pans
around in silence and follows each degree with intense concentration.
So much activity from this industrious device, with surely so little to
survey, each angle is much the same, for all is another monotone, endless
and relentless cold.
The orb as camera slowly turns to the vertical fifteen degrees, a relief for
the whitened wearied lens, as a new dimension appears. The visitor as if
stunned with admiration, froze all motion, struck with the swiftness of awe.
This was a sight so rarely encountered. The visitors face, if one could have
seen it brimmed with satisfaction, the only known oasis in a universe of
time, Earth the first encountered planet that has survived. Humans the first
found forms of intelligent organic life. The rush of such realization fills
his alien souls with the purest of pleasure. The visitor had found an
unequalled jewel, a haven, and at the shores of lights a beacon of hope in a
galaxy of darkness. This, to the visitor was indeed the most priceless
treasure he had ever encountered. For this moment they had travelled over
incalculable light years of time. Making the journey of a hundred solar
cycles, completely worthwhile. The visitor and orbs, sigh with loving
appreciation at the entrance of the day, a dawning sky. They cheer aloud in
harmony at the rising of the Sun, and sulk in witness tears to the slowly
disappearing Moon, near fully focused she causes quite a stir. It was for
them the first time they had truly noticed her, such pallor in a natural
satellite, how mysterious, that in the near fullness of her setting, she
appears to smile, then as is a love so beautifully disloyal, softly sinks
into the final efforts of her domain, the far side of the world and night.
Colour's now rise in altitude as light pastel's enhance the detail to the
lining of the few blushing cirrus clouds, above the last visible
constellation, Cassiopeia fades into the heavens. Mercury the messenger,
just a faint illumination, Venus is the last light to leave the dawning
stage, the sun breeze whooshes past the orb heralding the day.
Sub light.just thought.
Spiraling down like a feather to the ground.
Reach twenty and pause.
From beyond the mounds of druid's summit, closing to the woods of normanton
down, there came sounds. Mystical musical chords that arrived overhead like
the arrows from a bow.
Scan from rise to rest.
First the beating of rhythmic drums resounded through the trees and lifted a
swathe of movement all along the horizon. In the distance a ragged army
seemed to advance.
Correct to hover.dispatch orb.
From the resonance of strings, to the whistling of flutes, musicians
marched forward upon the fields of olde sarum.
Closer.now visible.
Beneath a canopy of summer leaves, came human voices singing. A rustic
choir incanted ancient runes and filed from out of the woodland trees,
through the pastures of fresh green wheat and on to the expanse of Salisbury
plain.
Here and now, it is summer and below the sweet scent of woodruff drifted
lazily through the air. The land shone vibrant and healthy, all was at peace
with this world. Tribes were gathering to be beside the tumuli and rings, to
celebrate last year's light with the first fire of the new season. The Sun
shone hazy with the outlying clouds, yet still its powers cast speckles of
gold on to the giant stones. The mottled lichen and the matrix of the stone
shimmered with the star, a fire of dancing flames.
Pitch and descend.
It is later in the evening and all discussions have ended; it was time for
celebration, the summer solstice, the beginning of a new year.
Open.360.
Encampments were established everywhere, yet none were allowed within the
henge itself. Tents, marques, tepees, shacks and sheds were scattered about
the ground undisciplined. Burning firewood, roasting spicy meat, herb
lavender and common gorse fixed with the evening mist, an ability to taste.
A thousand happy faces some flushed ruby with excitement, other glowed
intermittently from the warm mead and honeyed wormwood. Leather smacked and
raced tassels turning in a spin. " Tonight is not to fight, for tomorrow
live another day"
Track northeast.
Rebecca sat closest to the burning flames, the fire lit up her eyes with
momentary vigour, then perched scanning and squinting, drifting back into
the past with a sparkle and a smile. You could see it in her face, Rebecca
was once indeed a damsel so fair, her beauty had cut many a man's heart.
However, that was in the olden days and the twinkle as she reminisces events
long, long ago. Rebecca was old and at an age, when referred to as being old
was deemed by all acceptable. She had reached her centennial with honor and
pride.
Everything stopped in sudden silence, as she held up her right hand to show
them her signature and scar. The crowd cheered, moving closer, as Rebecca
looked to the heavens acknowledging the waking stars with wise old eyes.
Spiral up.align for the past.
SOON
Does death now have wings?
All around was a pearl blind white, a monotone of endless and relentless
cold.
Mechanical sounds, the discernable noise of thudding helicopter blades are
heard vuumping off and away into the distance. Beneath and welcoming to the
eye, several shiny objects clear broadly into focus. Rising from the frozen
surface, a troop of frosty silver igloos stood out against the endless
white, like a jeweled platinum ring. This was the southern atmospheric
monitoring station known to the world, as SAMS. Located on Norwegian
territory near Vestfjella, its presence remains remote from any forms of
civilization and safely secured to the freezing ice of the Antarctic
southern pole. Its benefit to humanity today, wrestles against the horror of
its recent past. Vestfjella was a once a killing den and thriving whaling
station. S.A.Ms, was a scientific research laboratory at the cutting edge
of science. For the last few years, the station had been monitoring a
strange phenomenon that was taking place within the biosphere. A rogue
weather feature had evolved, a Frankenstein, combining leftover elements of
chemical warfare, airborne viruses, and dangerous chemical pollutants. This
deadly cloud circumnavigated the planet, existing under any meteorological
conditions, devastating every sign of life wherever it became, as evil as
any medieval plaque. Environmentalists campaigned for action and a last
desperate warning, like the last desperate warning, came to industrialists
as another unicorn, a mysticism that went unheeded.
The Sun, a pale disc barely skimmed above the frozen horizon. Some grains of
radiance now filtered through the atmosphere, which lit the crest of an
impending weather front and the cool embrace of battle grey and angry nimbus
clouds. Approaching with stealth from the south, the cloud seemed to spread
out like a sickly stain and as with most weather features, it portrayed a
form. Two towering horns reached around the distant horizon and were raised
into the heavens sending burning gold's into the sky with heat and haze. A
satanic face with hollow eyes grinned around the jawbone as its claw like
hands seemed to be rubbing with anticipating glee. A reddening mane bristled
high into the stratosphere and an unnatural feeling of a darkening energy
held the local atmosphere transfixed. As it draws ever closer, the scent of
acidic salts filled the air and the splattering of toxic precipitation stung
the freezing surface. Yellowing pools of hissing gas formed lakes of noxious
death. An increasingly howling gale blew up a storm, and strange demonic
voices seemed locked within its center. The demon shouted louder and louder
with hysterical laughter and mocking obscenities, it crackled and croaked
incanting Latin tales from hell. Lightning bolts, crashing thunder and a
hurricane of force project it ever forward; the tempest had arrived. For a
few moments, everything spun into a miasmic swathe and then as abruptly as
it had started, all disappeared.
Silence clung and a perfect halo appears at the zenith. At eye of the
storm, and for a few brief moments, absolutely nothing stirred.
The poisonous cloud moves northwards on, only its front carries such that is
death. After the silence came the natural back force, blizzards of snow that
eventually cover and freeze the poisonous pools. This is nature's strength a
natural force that hounds a world way, beyond the shrieking fifties and the
roaring forties. Its might hits the stations outer entrance with pace, a
hush of air inside destroys the vacuum of the faraday doors, and they slowly
open up. A few moments later and the mechanism purr's itself shut. In here,
the wind and the weather are absent, as the environment is very carefully
controlled. Another hush of air as the vacuum returns and releases the inner
door to reveal the inner sanctum and central chamber. Steel floors and wall'
s clad the inner skin, giving the entire inner structure the appearance as
one metallic mass. At waist level, stainless steel worktops continued to
complete the circumference. Science projects with chemistry and biology
devices littered the tops, every few meters swivel chairs were placed, and
all were empty. A computer accompanied each seat and displayed its imagery
holographically. Molecular structures, system schematics and mathematical
formulas rose up from flat dark mats. The bleating lights and the humming
gadgetry sparkled on and off. Their motions indicated that they still
attended some function or duty. All this technological industry a contrast,
because the station itself was deserted and void of any form of organic
life.
"Capitalism carries within itself war, as clouds carry rain" [J.J. Jaures]
MT (micro-tech) is a global giant, an Anglo-American consortium
established secretly before the last millennium. It now existed openly, and
for a singular purpose, to insure the few elite, remain the few elite. For
this, MT successfully constructed and supplied the latest military
technological gadgetry.
The Personal Information Processor, commonly known, as the "pip" is that
current, "state of the art, must have" device. Ultimately slick, as
presentation with such products is always handsomely applied. Extremely
expensive and ergonomically shaped to fit the contours of wrist all
effortlessly light, like a dark sweatband. Multi-tasking and organically
powered through barometric pressure, kinetic movement and solar energy. The
non-mechanical parts enabled lifelong usability, the drives were constructed
from seamless zero gravity compound platinum and silica, with software
systems already applied. Enigmatically encrypted programs made the whole
device personal and its build quality made it virtually indestructible. The
pips dutiful purpose was to simulate the functions of a synthetic human
mind, an almost life, in its ability. Scholar programming with integrated
logic, gave a far superior learning curve. It hungered for the collating of
data on every global subject, level and task. Client specific DNA and user
voice activated commands held fast the security. It displayed visual
requests through projection of holographic imagery, a system of light
trickery known as GZAM, (Gustav Ziess Aurae Monitor) another industry of MT.
Such systems had previously guided drones with deadly accuracy and laser
bombs to their horrifically surprised targets in the jungles of South
America, the slopes of the Korean peninsular and the desserts of the Middle
East.
The pip had been commercialised and acceptable for civilian use for many
years. In the public domain it proved absolutely vital, with high status in
demand. Its resourcefulness had made it unique. The pip was indeed rapidly
becoming as useful an implement to modern man, as much was once his knife.
Peoples, governments and states that rely solely on such technology, reflect
certain arrogance. They relished these gifts so deeply sought and were so
easily by such gifts, betrayed.
"Let your thought's dip deep into the stream or shall those depths be never
fathomed"
Anchored just beyond the sparkling reef of paradise beach, a few kilometers
South of Richards bay and Southern Africa, the Green Peace flagship Gaia
floated on the warm agulhas tides like a graceful swan. She drifted in
silent elegance on the mirrored calmness of the warm green Indian Ocean.
Gaia was perfect in her setting being so beautifully designed. Ancient
lines like the clipper yet as able as a modern schooner with her twin blower
turbines, still on standby. Her rigging rising full to the topmast in
readiness of command and the breeze or blowers will fill her sails. Gaia was
not alone, nor had she been for several years. Returning from the cold Gaia
had been stalked every inch of the way by the frigate USS Clinton and the
Australian coastal command vessel Barracuda. Gaia was an international
vessel with an international crew. The captain was a fundamentalist green
American from the big easy, occasionally sharp and as equally jovial. He was
everything that's best in Uncle Sam, well educated, forthright, and
committed to the cause. Even though the radar, satellites, and various
bugging devices held, Gaia's every position. The captain had developed over
several years, tactics so that he and his colleague a German eco-agent could
slip the observation net and undertake a special conference on the beach
beside the shore. By means of clever computing and the resourcefulness of a
local chokka fishing fleet, they both entered the warm waters and without
the foe, ever noticing managed to snorkel and slip ashore. The Captain and
the German hop scotched up the blistering beach, its sand all white and
glittering with heat. They briefly cooled their soles in pools besides the
rocks and continued unseen. Sneaking directly into the awaiting beach cabin,
they quickly changed into the pre-prepared dries. They both kept smart while
hurrying to the bar where another special agent would brief them with the
update of events, and further them the task.
Africa shone, her lonely subtropical coastal charm, brushed vibrant with
passionate colours and scintillating flair. The sky a cobalt blue was clear
with hardly a cloud to spoil the view. Cycads and the browning wintry of
raffia palms whistled and whispered gently about the dunes. Monkeys and
parrots chatted vigorously in the low-slung mangroves, coconut palms, and
chinobar trees. The saltiness in the atmosphere was perfumed with the
sweetness of ozone and the warmth the ear lapping sea. The setting was about
as far from the cause as it could be, almost surreal. A mission so dark and
dangerous to pursue, awash, in the splendor of this sunny paradise. An enemy
so vile still haunted them, into this heavenly tropical utopia.
The temperature seemed hotter in the circular beach shabeen, a thatched lapa
set on pile driven gum poles, a meter or so above the fine white sand. The
ceiling was a thinning cape spray and through these gaps beams of light
stung at the wooden sandy floor. The semi circular walls were made of reed
and decorated with various marine items, driftwood, and large cabana shells.
In the center a semi circular walnut bar, behind which a large Zulu barmen
was entertaining its visitors.
"So Frank.can you get him out" the American Captain asked wiping his
forehead clean of the salty beads with a soggy wet hanky.
"Whoa china.their breath lies hot and heavy on my neck" the khaki Afrikaner
retorted, swigging directly from the cool condensing bottled quart.
"Can you help us or not Herr van der merwe?" the little German eco-agent
demanded twitching frantically while sipping at the rim, a glass of cool ice
tea.
The Afrikaner did not answer; his bright blue eyes gazed out wearily from
his weather beaten face, they reached out staring at the deep, as equally
unfathomable in thought.
"For Gods sake man.can you get him out or not" the fractious American
captain increased his volume and tone, whilst fidgeting uncomfortable on the
dryness of land and the sweaty heat.
The tall Zulu barman drifted anxiously towards the meeting and gave the
Captain a completely threatening glare. Franks nodded for the Zulu to
desist, the barman winks and returns to his duties, cleaning the shot glass.
"Jezzus you okes.look sleepy I'm up too here with you bleddy foreigners
telling me what I have to do for them.I've enough kak here to arrange for
me-self" Frank smarted and acting furious with rage picked up his beer
bottle and slammed it down hard onto the bar next to the German.
"Ja.ja es gibt immer ein arschloch" the German stuttered.
" Frank.you've gotta be aware of the importance and what is at stake here"
the American Captain now lowered his volume considerably and frowning with
all the muscles in his face, he starred pleading with concern.
The Afrikaner shook his head and dropped his shoulders in frustration, then
huffed while scratching at his blonde crew cut hair, he sighed a little and
pointing both arms to the sea in resignation, letting out a gentle moan.
"Frank you have got to do something.you're our last hope and you damn well
know it.Pretoria said you would definitely help us," the Captain begged.
"Okay butte.I can get this man to the capital.but that's as far as I go"
Frank knew he would have to give in and a little reluctantly he agreed to
their demands.
"Is the pip there and who will guide me home?" the little German professor
sharply questioned, they all suddenly blinked as the wind blew up
expectantly from the sea, it temporarily removed a large cluster of shade
and the burning Sun caught in all there eyes.
"The pip.I don't have a clue about the pip...man. maybe its in Pretoria.I
wouldn't know and to be honest I no longer care" Frank lied as he put his
hand to shade his eyes, within that instant the clump of shade returned.
" I hope its there my friend" the German spat indignant.
" There my friend.if you are lucky you might further the cause" The
Afrikaner stared into the Germans eyes while finishing gluging to the foam,
he wiped his lips, stamped the bottle down once more and ordered another
beer.
"Thank green spirits and blue angels" the American Captain cheered " I can
leave you two too it, good-bye" the American Captain broadened his smile and
congratulated both men with the keenest of departures, his lasting efforts
seen heading back to the cabin and out onto the beach with goggles, snorkel
and flippers he slid back into the warm corralled sea.
"When and where in Pretoria will I find the pip und how far can this
man.your friend take me," the German demanded, also finishing his mineral
drink, wiping his lips, stamping it down and ordering another.
The Afrikaner opened up his own pip wrist communicator and proceeds to type
in the encrypted text. A few awkward moments existed between them. Frank
continued to stare while the German fixed his eyes onto the beautiful
horizon and sighed as the replying text bleeped in.
"And" the German quizzed.
"You can prepare for leaving this continent within the hour, disguised as a
South African economic attaché. There you will transit in a diplomatic
convoy of various other ethnic attachés.you'll fly to Lusaka and join the
African crisis delegation departing for Hamburg and the European talks.they
will arrive in Germany tomorrow lunch time.you can find your own way home
from there I hope.Herr Kuntz" the Afrikaner deliberately dictated the
response.
"Excellent" the German replied ignoring the sarcasm.
Frank and the German both decided on staying until Gaia and her stalking
escort had completely left the bay. The German looked back at Frank in
trying to understand the man. Frank was a leader in the militant green's, he
was also a renowned biochemist and responsible for some of the most
notorious environmental escapades in recent times. In over thirty years of
eco-service, Frank had only once been caught and even then escaped.
Frank regarded the German Werner Kunz with equal admiration; he knew that
Werner had discovered the poison cloud many years ago and that Werner was
the Professor of the Atmospheric Conditions Monitors at Harvard and
Cambridge universities. He had also heard that Werner had spent several
years in a Russian prison, captured protesting at a scrap yard of nuclear
waste at an oil refinery near Murmansk.
"Tell me Herr van der Merwe. why are you always so rude we are working for
the same side" the German twitched a half smiled at him.
"My friend I've been opened from here to here by the cause" frank replied
drawing a line beneath his chin from his left ear to his right.
"Does it have to make you so unfriendly towards your comrades" the Professor
jittered.
"Ja" Frank nodded
" And that is the way you with us to entertain each other on this long and
arduous journey" the Professor stuttered concerned.
" Look china.the less I know about you the better and that goes for me too.I
don't want to know because if they catch me they will torture me and I've
been there before.believe me it hurts.it hurts enough to talk" Frank
shuddered.
" We can still smile from time to time or not.Herr van deer Mere" the German
tried his best to smile, but perhaps it is simply not in German genes. A
sudden hideous contortion that took a form akin to the expressions being
required whilst squitting out the last dregs of fiery dysentery. Frank
stared at Werner's comical struggling before breaking into a smile of which
he could not control himself.
"No.a smile assumes recognition" Frank held back the tears.
"Never.ever smile.mine got was fur ein leben" the Germans painful grinning
turned into a frowning grimace.
"Never.ever smile" Frank cried aloud.
Frank took the quickest route to Pretoria still some seven hours away.
Climbing into the parched arid soils of the seringa tree and the high veld.
They spoke little on the way but eventually each gained a notion of the
comradeship they felt. What they were doing was right; that life itself has
meaning and that for both of these men its virtue became apparent and
sufficient.
The Jacaranda trees of Pretoria lined the avenue to the union buildings with
confetti of purple blossoms; falling sapphire petals littered the streets.
Frank parked up and the German professor got out.
"Njani.Professor" Tula Malinga greeted him with a wide toothy African beam.
"Njani.Tula" the professor stammered shocked at seeing that his escort was
not only a woman but also an extremely tall ethnically dressed Zulu. "Please
tell me that you do have the pip?" The German extremely anxious, that this
single mystery could at least be solved.
"I think you have it now.Professor" Tula broadened her grin until it
encompassed her whole face.
Werner reached into his jacket pocket and in that very same moment, the
flashing lights signaled Frank's departure as he headed off into the sunset
and on to the next certain phase. Werner pulled the shiny object out into
the last light of day, also smiling but this time more appropriately than
before. Werner with that sudden sharpness knew, that he had now become the
latest high profile client for disposal on the states darkest list.
Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri,
Quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes. [Horace]
The visitor is not of this earth, nor from our solar system or even our
galaxy. He is from a galaxy at the very edge of our understanding beyond the
Virgo Supercluster. His species has the start of a millennium or more
advances in science. As we have learnt to leave this Earth, his kind has
occupied their understandings in traveling through many dimensions and the
enormity of time and space.
His crafts propel themselves through space by three means. Firstly, a galaxy
class starship using neutrino based technology. Secondly, a solar system
craft utilizing gravitational vortex control. Thirdly, a terrestrial class
craft, making use of a planet's electromagnetic fields. All forms of craft
appeared similar in one way, they were shaped into large translucent
spheres. The surface of which sporadically glowed with a rainbow type sheen.
The only object visible within each of them at the core was a small dark orb
shining like the pupils of an eye.
Suddenly within its mass there was click, like a trigger being released and
a fluorescent green mist rose out from the inner skin and swirled about
inside. A louder click and a flash of light ignite some life into small
golden orbs. These little golden orbs rise in columns and encircle the
craft. In delta formation, they speed into a single twisting path and crash
toward the central. Another intense flash of light before a single image
starts to appear.
The view of space outside was spectacular and the visitor, his craft, and
the golden orbs survey their new surroundings, with noisy excitement. In an
instant they had reached the Oort cloud at the distant borders of our solar
system. The visitor collates the navigation information, while circling the
barren debris of these rocks and life's explosive past.
Within the blinking of an eye, the visitor arrived at Pluto, the so-called
lord of the underworld. Silver strands are propelled from the craft towards
the planet; they intersect the surface as geometric gridlines. Closing in
upon this little world, a shoal of golden orbs are released and while the
visitor passes silently over the faint mist and thin veneer of Pluto's
atmosphere, they return and fill the imager with cloned particles and copied
molecular structures. There is a sudden silence of activity, as Pluto's moon
Charon appears, rising from the east, to escort Pluto on its mystical path
through the depths of deepest space. The visitor, his craft, and the golden
orbs pause for a moment's reflection as to the beauty of planets and their
satellites, then travels further on. Silver strands are sent out and silver
grid lines reappear, encircling the mass of a giant blue planet; the
flashing lights and the golden orbs jig merry with enthusiasm once again, as
Neptune, a God of the sea, appears for the visitor and orbs to study. The
orbs leave the craft and after a short while, they return and build more
complex elements and structures into the visual machine. They leave this
gentle giants atmosphere and head off into space. Uranus the seventh planet
accompanied by many moons and encased by many charcoal rings. Once the
information was compiled and stored, and they effortlessly proceed. Saturn
the sixth and second largest planet and a slightly brightening Sun. They
collect the complex gaseous molecular structures, which so excite and
entertain the dancing orbs. Jupiter, God of the sky, the fifth and largest
Planet, so immense, all the planets combined could comfortably fit within
his jovial mass. Swirling clouds, of oranges and browns spin within its
high-speed rotation. This time they pause, and take in its true magnificence
and of course its known significance to them, without Jupiter, its unlikely
that any other planet within this system would ever exist. Stationary, the
visitor, his craft, and golden orbs continue to collect data. The orbs
bleep with the anticipation exposed by radar revealing the four terrestrial
planets. The visitor, his craft, and orbs continue and skillfully navigate
through a belt of asteroids. Mars, the God of war appears to greet them,
how bright it shines these nights. This planet was nearly close enough to
the Sun, a mere tiptoe on this solar system hike. The dancing orbs flicker
with exhilaration as they approach the dusty red planet, molecules appear
and disappear in rapid succession. Then something new, a faint laser of
pearl like particles released; they form into a ghostly mass and beam down
to the planets surface. They return in silence with the knowledge that not
everything we hold is purely data. An important moment had occurred, the
visitor along with the orbs turn to view the imaging machine.
Slowly the craft manoeuvres gently starboard, the visitor and orbs gasp.
The crazy golden orbs explode into excited activity, they whirl about the
craft, which can hardly contain them, enthralled by the beauty that beholds
them, they reach a climax and ejaculate into an orgasmic frenzy.
Gaia, our Mother Earth shrouded in the mystery of time and space continuum.
The bluish hue of her elegant oceans, the reds, the oranges, the greens and
the browns of fertile lands, clear between the whiteness of serenely sailing
clouds. The visitor and his companions were mesmerized; indeed this was a
priceless jewel within an unknown pit of darkness. For the humans and every
living thing below, this planet was at this stage, their only hope.
Entering the geo-stationary orbit and rapid bursts of activity take place
as the gathering of data, continues. Molecular structures, particle physics,
and chains of DNA appear on the imager. There followed a sudden pause, one
of the many satellites seemed to evoke much interest. An Itec Corolla Mk
0157 scientific and military global surveillance and communication
satellite, was busying itself transmitting information back and forth.
The visitor and his companions hover in the static thermosphere the
boundary of space, well above the northern summer skies. The crest of the
Sun rises in the east escorted by the exquisiteness that is the dawning of
another day. The visitor monitors the systems and dispatches a football size
orb to investigate. The orb speeds to the signal that is bleating from the
drifting helium balloon in the stratosphere below. It follows the chorded
line to find the tagged and precious cargo. A data retrieval canister
contained nothing but the world's second most important pip.
The orb approaches its goal, slowing to a stop and in mid air it gracefully
settles like a magnetic counter balance. The orb spins, side on to the
silver canister and their reflections for a moment transpose. Within the
fluttering moment of its organic shutters the pip released the information
and communicated the data back to the visitor. The orb foot tapped
impatiently as it waited for the command to tack away. The visitors request
arrives and to the orbs relief, it free falls like a hunting falcon swooping
to the ground, stopping once more to balance a few meters above the cool
embrace of freshly fallen snow. The orb extends an eye as a camera; it pans
around in silence and follows each degree with intense concentration.
So much activity from this industrious device, with surely so little to
survey, each angle is much the same, for all is another monotone, endless
and relentless cold.
The orb as camera slowly turns to the vertical fifteen degrees, a relief for
the whitened wearied lens, as a new dimension appears. The visitor as if
stunned with admiration, froze all motion, struck with the swiftness of awe.
This was a sight so rarely encountered. The visitors face, if one could have
seen it brimmed with satisfaction, the only known oasis in a universe of
time, Earth the first encountered planet that has survived. Humans the first
found forms of intelligent organic life. The rush of such realization fills
his alien souls with the purest of pleasure. The visitor had found an
unequalled jewel, a haven, and at the shores of lights a beacon of hope in a
galaxy of darkness. This, to the visitor was indeed the most priceless
treasure he had ever encountered. For this moment they had travelled over
incalculable light years of time. Making the journey of a hundred solar
cycles, completely worthwhile. The visitor and orbs, sigh with loving
appreciation at the entrance of the day, a dawning sky. They cheer aloud in
harmony at the rising of the Sun, and sulk in witness tears to the slowly
disappearing Moon, near fully focused she causes quite a stir. It was for
them the first time they had truly noticed her, such pallor in a natural
satellite, how mysterious, that in the near fullness of her setting, she
appears to smile, then as is a love so beautifully disloyal, softly sinks
into the final efforts of her domain, the far side of the world and night.
Colour's now rise in altitude as light pastel's enhance the detail to the
lining of the few blushing cirrus clouds, above the last visible
constellation, Cassiopeia fades into the heavens. Mercury the messenger,
just a faint illumination, Venus is the last light to leave the dawning
stage, the sun breeze whooshes past the orb heralding the day.