The Prologue
This was without a doubt the most perfect day there had been in forever. Or almost forever. The sun was radiant, but there were just enough clouds in the sky to give a bit of shade when needed. The sor trees on the edge of the water were swaying their approval in the light breeze, making the whole scene a pretty tableau vivant. All in all, it was a perfect day to be a beach.
Overhead, a flock of bo’Degh circled around a spot out in the water where presumably there was a school of ghotl’ wanting to be eaten. The flock members were all making a contented mewing noise with the occasional screech before splashing down with a surprising gentleness to oblige a waiting ghotl'. All in all, it was a perfect day to be a flock.
The gentle waves themselves were lapping up onto the beach just a few meters away from where Smith was lounging in his reclining sun chair. He was resplendent in an old-timey bathing suit which covered him pretty much from head to toe in horizontal stripes. He had on comically oversize sunglasses and was sipping a margarita underneath his flamboyant sun hat, while enjoying hors d'oeuvres from a little table beside him which also had a pitcher from which he could refresh his margarita. All in all, it was a perfect day to be a Smith.
A furry DaH Hegh ghaH scampered into view and then engaged itself in being little and cute. It scurried up to Smith looking for a handout, who obliged it by holding out his hand, upon which he held a bit of cracker. The little creature bounced up Smith's leg and hopped onto his hand, and then ever so gently extricated the bit of cracker before withdrawing to enjoy it alone, preparatory to doing the same routine over and over as long as there were crackers. All in all, it was a perfect day to be a little furry creature.
Yes, this was an all-around perfect day for all involved. Just like yesterday had been. And, with any luck, tomorrow as well.
The light breeze; the gentle waves; the mewing above the waves; the radiant sun; the pitcher of margaritas; but mostly the perfectness of the day, all conspired to make Smith a little drowsy. As his eyelids gently drooped, everything grew quiet and peaceful. Time itself seemed to slow and then to stand still, in that lazy manner time adopts when it is a beautiful sunny day and you are mostly asleep. The flock of bo'Degh in the sky had ceased their endless circling, and seemed to be simply hovering. A wave that had been lapping up the beach had stopped in mid-lap, and now seemed as if it were frozen. The little furry creature, which had been surprised by the lapping wave and had jumped nervously into the air to avoid getting wet now seemed to be hanging a few inches above the water with an unmoving look of surprise on its face.
And then another Smith appeared, also in a lazy manner, the way things have of slowly appearing when it is sunny and warm, and you’re mostly asleep, and time seems to be standing still.
“Hey, brother.” said the new Smith.
“Hey, yourself.” said the old Smith.
“Just catching the rays?”
“You know it. Want a margarita?”
“No thanks. This is a business trip.”
“What’s happening?”
“Tera’. Ever hear of it?”
“It’s that little bright star that wanders about in the evening. Should be out soon.”
“That’s the one. There are creatures who live on it. They seem determined to come here."
"Well two things there. One is why would creatures from Tera' want to come here?"
"I truly don't know. But I do know that prior to their arrival they will somehow contrive to make this a desolate waste."
"You mean they'll kill all the sor trees?"
"The sor trees, the water; the very air itself. As I say, a desolate waste."
"Well then two: determining things is what we do. Let's simply stop them and make something else happen."
"Not so easy. I've been trying a few things. It's like if this were a play then I can change the actors and some of the props, but the underlying play has already been written. The more I try to make things go in a different direction, the more unlikely things become, but the eventual outcome remains the same - a desolate waste with invading creatures. I think there's someone else involved - a director, if you will, at the risk of tiring the metaphor further."
"Whereas we are simply the writers? What fun! A challenge. Where do we go from here?"
"Well I do have a few more things to try. I've tried about everything on the other end but once the creatures get established on Tera' it seems to be a done deal. So here I am at the beginning before the little buggers can get going and we'll see what there is to be done."
“Right, then. I guess I’ll leave you to it. Do you want the kit?”
"You know I'm not going to refuse. It looks awesome!"
At which the old Smith got up off his sun chair. He took off his flamboyant sun hat, the comically oversize sunglasses and the old-timey striped bathing suit and placed them on the chair. Then he took one more sip of his margarita and placed the glass on the table next to the pitcher. And then he disappeared, as if he had never existed.
Time seemed to speed up, in that determined manner things have when you've been napping in the sun but it is now time to get up and do something. The wave continued its lap up the beach. The little furry creature completed its jump and skittered out of the way momentarily.
The new Smith, who now was simply Smith, put on the stripy bathing suit. He put on the oversize sunglasses. He donned the flamboyant sun hat. Then he lay out on the sun lounger and poured himself a margarita. The little furry creature resumed his cracker patrol around Smith without any objections, as overhead the bo'Degh made witty comments about ghotl' in a series of screeches and mews.
This was without a doubt the most perfect day there had been in forever. But it wouldn't last.