SerpentWorld

SerpentWorld – yuoan brasseur 2023

1.

“Now I think that my error of judgement at the first encounter caused the disagreement.”

 

She lounges comfortably in an easy chair. The room is not too hot and not too cold. Udolf the Psycho nods.

 

“Start at the beginning.”

 

“The day I had come home from a visit with my offspring, the green fields formed a welcome sight. My house is situated just below the summit of one of the slopes and you can see for miles. It is a work in progress, because every time I adapt my living surroundings to my latest wishes.”

 

“How were your children?”

 

“They are fine. Peter is in his second year at the academy and Marian is gaining experience with her friends.”

 

“That’s great.”

 

“After a break in which I bronzed my body in the rays of our sun, I contacted Han that I was home again and we could start on our next project.”

 

“You are Han and Xi building partners?”

 

„Yes. Until our decision to start working together, we each had set up smaller systems separately, but now we also work on bigger projects.“

 

„Builders are the modern alchemists.“

 

„A long time ago scientists were convinced that material and energy were mutually exchangable. Nowadays there is no longer insufficient building material or fuel. As long as the sun shines, there is enough matter. As long as rocks, metals, fluids and gases are available, there is enough energy. And converting one matter into another is simple now. Who needs alchemistic nonsense like turning lead into gold? Most builders can easily fuse copper and tin, or upgrade platinum or degrade mercury to that bullion. A matter of tying together or removing the energy of protons, neutrons and electrons.“

 

„We can’t all be Builders.“

 

„Not everybody can, that’s true. There are still people that remain stuck in everyday worries.“

 

„Builders are a category of the race we look up to, sometimes with envy, sometimes with hate, always with gratitude. The world is constantly shaped after our wishes. There is no more hunger or thirst. Everybody has a place where he or she can feel at home. Envy never lasts long. You contact a Builder who makes sure that you get what you long for.“

 

„Mostly, not always. That night at the office we had decided to fulfill the request of a minority group. Han searched the asteroid belt for sufficient materials while I molded an undulating landscape with some streams, forests, grasslands and buildings in a model, big enough in size for a small community.“

 

„Our new world in the making.“

 

„Yes. We have a softly lit model of our world under development in our office. It’s a slowly rotating helix in a loop around the central sun. It looks like the skeleton of a serpent, covered in many places with small plates like a sort of scales. For the minority group we added a new plate. We compared the specifications with the materials found, agreed on a fine job and sent the design to the subcontracters.

 

„And if you don’t accept the job?“

 

„Then we bounce it back asking to add to it or make changes in the request, so we can fulfill it after that.“

 

„And now you had time to work on your new project?“

 

„Yes. For a very long time a large part of the scientific community was already of the opinion that mankind had to spread out over a large part of nearby space to escape extinction by a big catastrophe. Unfortunately in the surroundings of our earth’s sun there are no planets or moons fit for permanent residence. That’s why all Builders participate in the helix. There had been futile attempts with available resources to create something stable in the comet stricken Indi system and the Ceti system plagued with enormous dust clouds. But Han and I had founded our company for designing worlds in favourable places around stars resembling the sun. And we have found some promising ones.“

 

„But aren’t they too far away?“

 

„There are differences between Builders‘ capacities. We all can rearrange the buildingblocks of space, but some can do more. You probably know that a significant proportion of scientists claim space can only exist in measured quantities. A small group of Builders is able to get inbetween these quanta. It is not true that, as formerly thought, there are eleven mathematical dimensions, some of which are intensely curled up. Space on very small levels behaves differently from everyday reality. Whoever can work on space of these dimensions soon finds that distance and time become illusions. We move around this tiny network faster than was ever thought possible. This way we can scout systems farther away in an acceptable timespan, make plans for rearranging the available building materials and transform them into acceptable locations for mankind.“

 

„You have worked on Lucida.“

 

„You saw the advertisement? Good. The luminosity of the star had to be contained somewhat and the rocky parts present did not completely have the right orbit, but that could be solved reasonably quickly. We have made a relatively permanent subquantum connection that allows us to travel between office and buildingsite. A bit like the way we connected the scales of the serpent, but then without a tangible means of transport. People with the right consent encryptions can use it later. We soon will give the OK for settlement.“

 

„And your next project?“

 

„Tabith. A more challenging system, for there is relatively little suitable material, but the sun is a little bigger and very stable. We will convert the excess energy to building materials. Initially we will go for a sphere. Tabith is a star remarably like the earth’s sun. It shouldn’t be too difficult, within a short period of time, to create a place where people can feel at home under an enchanting sky in an environment of their own desire.“

 

„Nice PR. Traveling to and fro, how does that work?“

 

„Our real bodies stretch to very long strings in the network, after which we are temporarily both at the starting and destination position. Soon after the first attempts to travel on a subquantum level, our category of Builders found out that subquantum uncertainty does not exist. You are here. Then you are here and there for a while. And then you are there. That’s it.“

 

„Alright. The first encounter. Tell me about that.“

 

„Han thought it looked good. We catalogued the energy and materials present and rearranged some of it at the right distance, after which we fixed an anchoring point for the semi permanent subquantum connection to the office. One of the roaming clumps of matter I wanted to disassemble to make more useful things from, contained swarming light strings.“

 

„What was your first reaction?“

 

Xi taps her knee and hoists herself up out of the chair. Udolf the Psycho purses his lips, as she begins to walk back and forth.

 

„The wrong one!“

 

She stops and shrugs her well shaped shoulders.

 

„I called for Han and we didn’t know what to do. I mean, you don’t find proof for extraterrestial life every day.“

 

„You understood that immediately? That it was a lifeform?“

 

„What else could it be? The strings moved and reacted when we touched them gently.“

 

„And they were made of light?“

 

„Observed light is nothing more than reflections of EM waves against matter. We can observe them with our eyes. You know, red, green and blue. Ans some people also see a bit of infrared and ultraviolet. Our sun appears to be yellow, because most radiation it emits is around the yellow wavelength.“

 

„Ok, so it was matter?“

 

„You know that matter and energy are exchangeable...“

 

Udolf the Psycho scratches his head and looks at the woman standing before the spacious window overlooking the scalepiece of the serpenthelix especially designed and constructed for him. She is slender (she takes care of that of course) and really unobtrusive. He has to keep reminding himself that she is one of those inimitable Builders and one of the small clique that does unfathomable things with matter and energy and therefore with space and time.

 

„What went wrong?“

 

2.

The oldest assistant entered, greeting the way it was customary to greet a worthy one, stationed at the designated place, took the posture for delivering important news and waited as it should. In the room, shining in an abundance of simplicity, Xieaou ignored the work on hand of secondary importance and gestured for the subordinate to speak.

 

„Noble Boss,“ started the assistant, „a message was just received from one of your farthest spies.“

 

After some prescribed silence, Xieaou, with a compelling arm movement, encouraged the venerable elder to supply further information.

 

“The report contains a description of the encounter of the spy with a possible enemy.”

 

“How dangerous is this enemy estimated?”

 

“Possible enemy, Noble Boss.”

 

“OK, possible enemy.”

 

“Unknown. The description tells about someone that was first invisible and then visible.”

 

Xieaou took time to think about this aspect. Nobody could accuse this big Boss of hasty decisionmaking. Time was immaterial and therefore not valuable enough to hurry.

 

“And does this report describe what that enemy - possible enemy did?”

 

“Yes, Noble Boss.”

 

Xieaou made the gesture for ‘let’s hear’ and the assistant started to recite the message.

 

“After a long journey I arrived at the designated place and observed the material environment without disclosing my presence. This place had not yet been visited by another spy, so I used my senses prolificly, in the interest of people, country and the eternally glorious Noble Boss, who makes decisions for the safety and prosperity of us all. As our scientists had already predicted, there were heaps of useful materials and easy to salvage to boost.”

 

The oldest assistant was silent for a while to give the big Boss the opportunity to evaluate the report so far.

 

“I presumed to be the only one at this place. After a while I had to admit that it was highly likely that at least one more somebody was present. Materials were taken apart in an unnatural way and reassembled in another way. Because I didn’t see anyone, I thought the unknown had hidden. From one moment to the next, however, I saw the recreator clearly, when it, as I presumed, took a break from work.”

 

Xieaou indicated to have need of an interruption of the account to let the information settle and judge it for danger for people, country and self. After this the assitant was allowed to continue.

 

“Unfortunately I had misjudged the situation. The unknown, now fully visible, had noticed me and sped in my direction, too fast to get away. It wasn’t clear to me, whether I would be captured or maybe even killed and all that was left to me was to send this report to my homebase and hope for the kindness of the other.”

 

The oldest assistant took the posture of ‘end of message’.”

 

“And this is all? No more recent report about how it ended?”

 

“This is all.”

 

The oldest assistant greeted as it should and left the room, so that the big Boss could look at the report from all sides at ease and decide on steps to be taken.

After the prescribed timespan had elapsed, the oldest assitant came back in, greeting the way it was customary to greet a worthy one, stationed at the designated place, took the posture for receiving important news and waited as it should. Big Boss Xieaou gestured that it concerned a weighty explanation.

 

“For the safety and prosperity of us all it is imperative that we get to know more about this possible enemy.”

 

“Noble Boss.”

 

“A scouting party will leave immediately for the system observed, I codename it Akrienu. Our troops will form a line between Akrienu and ourselves. The spy’s report tells of an entity that rearranges materials suited for our society into useless garbage. There will be no loss if we use the scorched earth formula in an exploratory attack and wait for the reaction of the possible enemy.”

 

Xieaou gestured that the explanation was over and refocused on local activities. The subordinate greeted and left according to protocol to implement the decision of the superior one.

 

3.

Hovering in the emptiness hangs a swinging serpentshape with glistening scales spread sideways. Without much lighting, it is a pale, red-green-blue helix. Rotating in the bright spotlight of our small, sparkling sun, it twinkles under a vault of faraway stars. From closeup it cannot be recognized as a serpent, but unfolds to the observing eye as a vast undulating, lovely landscape of red buildings, green nature and blue waters.

Not that there is anybody on the SerpentWorld to look at it from such a distance. The regular residents are insufficiently scientificaly educated (and they do not possess great curiosity either) to build flying machines to capture a view of the serpentshape. Most are satisfied with their everyday lives in the towns or villages and the individual that dares to go into the fields and forests of the great outdoors, or dares to paddle on the beaches along lakes, seas and oceans, generally enjoys a shortened version of it*.

 

*If a forest or sea is not frequented by hunters, animals arise that are always hungry and feed on each bite that offers itself to them unaware and without too much preparation.

 

Of course the world is created by Builders. Different from the present population, they are enterprising, enthusiastic and filled with fantasy. They have to be, otherwise there would be no helix, no serpentshape, but a common sphere, dented or bulged in places, exactly as normal planets are, like the one you and me are on. The residents are overtaken by decadence and the all forgetting history and only a few of the ones on the surface now know of the buildingfolk or their knowledge and skills. The world as they know it has always been this way as far as they are concerned.

 

Near the hamet of Panting Deer a lonely woman is walking along a dusty road. When she looks up all she sees is the forest of countless trees covering the hills around her. Green needles and leaves show moisture on those slopes in contrast to the dusty path she is walking on. It leads into a small village of some stone and wooden houses around a central patch of dry sand. She can see poorly attended gardens between and behind a couple of the huts.

As there is nobody in sight, she starts for the biggest of the houses, knocks and because there is no answer, opens the door and steps inside. A scruffy man gets up from his chair behind a small table. He yawns. Clearly he was dozing.

 

“Yes?” he ventures.

 

“Is there a bed for tonight?”

 

“Yes.” he confirms.

 

“How much?”

 

“Two silvers.”

 

“And something to eat?”

 

“Another silver?”

 

She nods, draws a grey linen pouch from inside her tunic, takes out three silver coins and hands them to him. He stares at the money in his open hand.

 

“You need breakfast?” he asked hesitantly.

 

She takes out another coin and places it on top of the previous three. He folds his fingers over the money and moves in the direction of the door. There he turns his head toward her.

 

“Bed in the corner. Get some food for you.”

 

He leaves her alone in the building. She must have been rather tired from walking all day, because she wakes up when the man coughs. He is eyeing her with his face semi-diverted.

 

“Food.” he says, pointing at a plate with a cold chicken leg and some red and green vegetables.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Leave you to it then.”

 

Again he looks at her from the door. “Good night.”

 

“You’re not going to be here?”

 

“Only one bed.” he says smiling.

 

“Okay then. Good night. Thanks for the food.”

 

He nods and closes the door behind him. She goes over to the table, sits down on the rackety chair and starts devouring the meal. She is hungry and finishes it quickly. Nightfall will be another half hour or so, so she goes outside to have another look at the surroundings. The scruffy man is sitting in front of a small house across the village sand patch. Next to him is a woman with unkempt hair. She isn’t ugly, just very dirty. He raises his hand to greet her. She does the same.

That is it, really. There are no more people in sight. She glances at the other huts, at the ill-kept gardens, at the trees in the forest on the hills, and finally at the slightly darkening sky. The curve of the Serpent is gradually becoming more and more visible in both directions. It will always only be a faint ribbon, slowly turning around its axis. Ever so often the sunrays strike a distant lake or sea to sparkle a glint of light. At most it is a hue of pale browns, faint yellows, blues and greens.

 

In the morning she wakes up to the sound of shrieking roosters welcoming the break of day. In the hamlet of Panting Deer the sun has just risen above the horizon. Full of desire the male hens look forward to their first meal of the days*, prepared by their bosses in simple pyjamas, still unwashed (and some unshaven) because animal care is a need, ground in by generations of ancestors. If you don’t look after your animals, you will be ignored by the neighbours (because they don’t stop crowing...).

 

* Because of the helixform, the sun will constantly be hindered by the horizon. A full revolution will be characterized by: dawn first day, rise, fall, dawn second day, rise, fall, and so on, until the sun finally sets and night begins.

 

Our young woman, Sjari Hari, doesn’t have roosters and she doesn’t care what others think of her. She stretches on the edge of her bed. The room she slept in is a simple room in the local ... eh ...inn. It is the only room really. The owner had to stay elsewhere during the past night, so that Sjari could make use of it.

On the shaky table are a jug containing water and a dish. She pours some in the dish and splashes it against her face. Her hair hasn’t been combed and brushed for days. Her clothes haven’t felt soap and a washboard at least a week. She smells them, but doesn’t scent a difference with yesterday’s smell. She dons them and hangs a small bag and an average size club from her belt. It is no more than a piece of a tough branch she picked up on the road, but it inspires fear and keeps romantic strangers at a distance*.

 

* Romance on the SerpentWorld mainly consists of the encounter of strangers that, after a night out, share a bedroom to save on money.

 

She had been on the road from her home Rocktown - swift calculation - for almost eleven weeks now, with the intention of traveling to the end of the world to extinguish her desire for unrest*.

 

*We would say for adventure. But residents of the SerpentWorld do not know the word adventure, because they really never go beyond the beaten tracks of town and village roads.

 

She had quit work. Not that it meant much, but she had not found it annoying to advise others about have insulation placed for one Silverling. Strategically she phoned them around dinnertime, to be sure they would be at home. Nine out of ten disconnected shortly, but naturally it was about that tenth moron. With lots of joy she would later write up the bill, in which that one Silverling grew to a much larger sum. Her stomach rumbles and she rubs her belly. She can eat something. Sjari opens the only door and steps into the light of the sun.

The hamlet of Panting Deer consists of eight buildings and nine dwellings are empty (some buildings have been split up into multiple dwellings). The wouldbe inn is situated in the centre on a small square along the road. Some single houses are hanging from two slopes. She sees gardens between the buildings and on the slopes she only perceives trees. A buzzard circles this clearing in the surrounding forest, looking for breakfast in the shape of a young mouse or rabbit. The road she wants to follow next winds against the hill behind the inn and disappears out of sight amongst the trees of the forest. She walks into a garden to investigate a promising red colour between green and yellow plants and yes, there are strawberries. She collects a handful and nibbles them. From a fruittree she picks two of the biggest green apples. They still taste sour, but satisfy her hunger. She stockpiles some for later in the days.

Somewhere, not too far away, one of the roosters makes a late noise and is abruptly silent. A little later the innkeeper, an elderly man with a cap on grey curly hair and a cigarette butt glued to his lower lip*, strolls into the small square and hands her a half plucked, clearly severed leg. “Breakfast,” he grumbles.

 

* Probably yesterday’s. Some people are inveterate smokers, who don’t remember when which cigarette was lighted. They go purely for the feel of having something glued between or even on their lips.

 

Yesterday he had accepted her payment of four Silverlings* for room and breakfast and finds his side of the deal met. Shrugging her shoulders, she hides the leg along with the fruit in her bag. The man mumbles a greeting, strolls along in the direction of his inn/room and leaves her behind. Sjari sighs, turns to the path she intends on taking and continues her journey.

 

* There are lots of requirements and judgements in the world. A fine example is the acceptable price. The buyer names aan amount and the seller accepts the handful of money, after which the goods are handed over. Or not. Taking care of roosters has the same routine. If you take care of them, they stop shrieking.

 

A lot farther in the direction of the head of the SerpentWorld and on the side where the days have at last changed into night*, a party is raging with barbeque, fireworks, song and dance in a village at the edge of one of the larger oceans.

 

* It may be clear that night also consists of a succession of nights, but because it really always remains dark the SerpentWorld inhabitants consider it to be one night.

 

This is the home village of a hunter, maybe the only real one. He eats the barbequed meat, lights fireworks, sings, dances and drinks the special brewed strong liquer. His fellow villagers participate wholeheartedly and they almost all enjoy it very much.

In his bed George is listening sadly to the buzz of the neighbours and the cries of his father, the hunter. He wishes he were somewhere else, preferably at the end of the world, where the sun always shines*.

 

* It is a wellknown fact that the grass elsewhere is not only greener, but that the weather always is beautiful there, more beautiful than over here any way. And everybody knows that you feel better when the sun shines, unlike the depression you have to endure during weeks of downpour.

 

George is one of the few with a sense of adventure. Unfortunately for him one of his legs is shorter than the other, because of which his limpy walk looks like a sailing ship blown forward by an everchanging wind. His bumpy progress causes him to cover almost twice the distance of someone who walks or runs at his side.

Ever since his early childhood his father has told him strong stories about gigantic swine in the surrounding forests and enormous longnecked fish in the ocean. And he has brought home meat in big hoards when he returns from his raids. After such hunting there always is a feast, like tonight. George has not been well all day and has gone to bed early. He hasn’t eaten and is sad because nobody seems to miss him. If he only knew what will be in store for him in two weeks time, he would of course still be sad at this moment, but he would be full of anticipation for the nearby future. We don’t have to feel sorry for George, for he will get what is coming to him.

 

At the end of the SerpentWorld* is a vast ribbon of buildings around an open terrain.

 

* A serpent has two ends of course, but the people of the city Big Plain only know their own spot. Imagine a city built exactly at the tip of a serpent’s nose. The body cannot be seen, because that lies at the other side of the head. Why somebody has started a city at this place and not at the cesspool at the tail end, has been lost in history.

 

The inhabitants of the city are selfcentered and never think of the world outside the city. The citydwellers call their accomodation Big Plain and not something like Big Pear or Big Peach, or Big Anyfruit, because, well, it is draped around a big plain on which their lives happen. There are allotments, playgrounds and gardens to meet other people. There they play when young, meet up, form families, raise kids, die and are buried. Garbage, fertilizer and spacedust have raised the open space dozens of meters, so that it has become impossible to see the houses at the other side.

In the Central Garden yellow pathways meander between low shrubbery and the occasional high tree, over hills and through valleys, along small water features and arbors. This garden covers approximately half of the open terrain and careful breeding has permitted only small animals to be found, hipping carelessly on endless lawns or fluttering from tree to tree or occasionally coming up for a sip of air and continuing their languid swim along concatenated streams and ponds. Here lives the villain* of the story.

 

* Every story needs a villain to get away from the rut of a world of mere goodfellows. Some stories are about murder and manslaughter and therefore have a murderer or insain dictator. Other stories describe events that end comically wrong, because the villain is a stupid, horny-for-territory dictator, or an unseemly funny godfather or a woman hating white dogs with black spots.

 

Our villain lives rather far from the Central Garden in a row house situated in a narrow alley. It is not even a house on a corner, which shows that not all bad people are/have become rich. Valérie the Ring is the name with which she was born in this same house. She has been singing in a band for some time now and enthousiastic fans claim that she has the music in her.

Tonight she has a gig and she brushes her long blueblack hair in front of the mirror in which she can admire her whole upper torso. After that she walks smartly through the streets, greets her neighbours and later passersby and fans waiting outside the lounge until they can go in for the show. She is never late, she doesn’t like that. Arriving late is something that happens to other people*. The doormen look at her approvingly, while opening the double doors for her. Nothing special occurs in the time until the performance. She talks a bit with the members of the band about music and they discuss when she will sing and when they will play acoustically.

 

* Just like becoming ill, getting an accident or quick, uncomplicated sex with an incredibly beautiful person.

 

She has about fifteen minutes before, during and after the break halfway down the performance to steal an amount of jewelry and rare coins from the pawnshop* a couple of streets away. When it is her turn again, she is swinging in front of the musicians and sings angelically, dressed with diamond rings, golden and silver bracelets, earrings and necklaces, glittering in the spotlights.

 

* This pawnshop is run by a grandpa, his son and two grandsons. Maybe in the future they will make a tv series about them.

 

On the deforested hilltop Sjari has an unlimited view over the oceanwater, that stretches, first lightblue, then greenblue and at last milky blue, to un unclear line that could probably be the horizon. From here she can see the waves breaking on the wide, lightbrown beachsand. She decides to spend the evening and night in the village of houses on posts and starts to carefully find her way down.

When she leaves the shadow of low trees, some ballplaying guys adolescents spot her and come running over. One of them gets behind a bit, because he walks with difficulty, she sees. The lack of cheers, cries and laughter makes a number of adults direct a controlling look in her direction. Sjari waves and strolls between the houses to the water’s edge, nodding to busy or relaxing people. The span of attention of the youngsters is not long enough to follow her and they resume their ballplay*. Except one.

 

* On the information Net, Sjari had found an article by the wellknown shrink Udolf the Psycho, in which he explains that most people’s brains are capable only after their twentyfifth birthday to make sufficiently substantiated decisions and to concentrate on one and the same subject for a prolonged timespan. Because she herself is only twentytwo, she still has a long apprenticeship ahead of her.

 

She undresses and rinses the dust and sweat off her face, arms, chest, belly, back and legs. She cleans her hair and then takes time to wash her clothes and put them above the floodline to dry. All under the supervising eye of George. He hasn’t seen her before in the village. Hij immediately understood that this young woman came from far away, because even visitors from other villages in the neighbourhood always behave in a modest way like they don’t want to offend anyone. He explains her carefree action to himself as improvidence, or better still indifference for what others may think. And she looks fine, slender with roundings in the right places. Not fully like he always phantasizes about girls*, but still... Fine.

 

* Boys will phantasize about girls. Especially about the way they look and, admittedly, sometimes also about how intelligent they might be.

 

Sjari looks the boy up and down as he is watching her with his arms around his pulled up legs. He had followed her to the beach at some distance. She had seen him watching while she freshened up. He seems a nice kid with short, black spiky hair and she doesn’t believe he will do something funny*. She decides to have a chat with him.

 

* Without her clothes she also doesn’t have the belt with the club...

 

- Hello.

 

- Hello.

 

- What’s your name? I’m Sjari.

 

- George.

 

- Hi George, does this village have a name?

 

- Yup.

 

- And that is?

 

- Winevillage, or as my father says Boozevillage.

 

- And your father is?

 

- What do you mean?

 

- What does your father do in this village? Is he a winefarmer?

 

- Hell no, he drinks it. And he’s a hunter.

 

- OK, I get it. What does he hunt?

 

- About anything that moves in the forest and the ocean. Preferably swine and longnecked fish.

 

- You hunt also?

 

- No, my one leg is longer than the other and I can’t walk fast in a straight line because of that.

 

- I saw that. What will you do when you grow up?

 

- Maybe I will become a winefarmer. And I’m almost twenty!

 

They both laugh. Sjari lies down on the beach beside George. Both hands behind her head to keep her hair free from the loose sand. George imitates her and they both stare at the sky. Thinly the bow of the world shows in the heavens*. Most residents pay no attention to it anymore. Its colours are so pale, it can hardly be seen. But if you look really well, you will see it.

 

* The SerpentWorld was designed and constructed in the original orbit of the Earth around the sun. That makes a very large bend and like many things in the distance it disappears a bit in the mists of not-willing-to-see.

 

- Three months ago I gave up the rut of my work and started traveling. On the information Net I saw that we live on a slowly rotating helix in the shape of a serpent skeleton. I decided to hit the road to discover our world, meet interesting people and take all days as they come.

 

- I dream about that almost every night.

 

- George, is there a place where I can find something to eat and a bed for the night?

 

- When my father comes back from the hunt there will probably be a barbeque and obligatory feast. I think everybody is welcome. And you can sleep ast my place*.

 

* George says this innocently from the goodness of his heart. He likes the young woman, but hasn’t fantasized about sex with her. Honestly.

 

- When do you expect your father?

 

- That varies. Depends on what he has caught. I have some leftovers in the fridge. Follow me.

 

She dons her almost dry, fresly washed clothes and together they stroll/waggle side by side into the village. In the evening they join the party and Sjari uses her club because of the advances of the big, drunk hunter, but the rest of the night is quiet. They do not know that some weeks later they will experience a special adventure with the baddest villain of the SerpentWorld...

 

The train extremely slowly enters the shabby station. There is clearly no hurry to be found around here. Again Sjari has reached the end of a piece of the world and she and George have had to wait for the connecting line with the next and hopefully last scale of the Serpent to transport them across the otherwise unbridgeable empty space*. Nobody else is using it and they settle in in one of the three fully equipped compartments.

 

* Scales are separate worlds, designed and constructed to order by Builders for anyone that wants one and for minority groups. They are mostly private and therefore separated by airlessness.

 

The kid appears to be an entertaining travel companion. He chats cheersfully all the time and since she has acquainted him with the information Net, he recites interesting facts about the world plates they pass through. At first she travelled uninhibited and without interest. Now she shows more and more interest in the here and now. Of course the aim remains the head of the Serpent and the city that is supposed to be found there. There’s no doubt about that. But George drags in the surroundings and they sometimes rest in places she would have passed in a trot.

 

George had got his father’s blessing when he uttered his intention to journey to the end of the world with Sjari. He hadn’t much noticed the presence of the boy anyway and had thrown himself into his next hunting and debauching party. Once on their way they had become the best of mates. In the beginning of the journey he was a bit embarrassed when he stood naked beside her in a stream to clean his body*, but after some time he got over it and they jokingly pushed each other under water like exuberant dogs.

 

* Because of his one shorter leg of course. It is wellknown that handicapped people feel insecure in the presence of others, especially when not wearing any clothes.

 

- How long will this ride last?

 

- Subjectively or objectively?

 

- For us.

 

George looks it up on the information Net.

 

- It says: fourteen hours.

 

- Well, I’m taking a nap then.

 

When she wakes up and stretches after a couple of hours of invigorating sleep, she sees George is asleep, breathing deeply. A piercing tone is softy audible from the connection with the information Net. He sleeps through it. Sjari looks at what is this urgent and then wakes him up.

 

- You have searched for Han and Xi buildingpartners?

 

- You know there are hidden messages on all pages a search command generates?

 

- Just ignore them.

 

- Well, on a page about Big Plain, the city we are aiming to go, I found an ad by Han and Xi*. They had worked on the original scale for the head of the Serpent.

 

* Han and Xi buildingpartners advertises here with the possibility to claim living space on their practically finished buildingproject at Lucida, the star we would call bèta Hydri.

 

- And you thought: let’s see who Han and Xi are...

 

- A man and a woman. Builders. Both of them. They design and construct parts of the SerpentWorld, but also new worlds around faraway stars. That makes them ultra-Builders.

 

- That gets your interest?

 

- Not yours? I sent them a message.

 

- Yeah, I saw the answer.

 

- Well?

 

- You can visit them. Coordinates added.

 

- After we visit the city I will go there. Our expedition will end then, will you join me?

 

Sjari looks at him and is amused. The kid’s enthusiasm is infectuous, but she observes a veil of frightened abstention. And yes, after she has reached her goal, what will she be going to do? She has got used to his company. He isn’t that many years younger than herself. And she really likes him. They can just as well go find Builders. The people they have to thank this beautiful world for.

 

- OK, but first I want to see that Central Garden, the information Net speaks of and follow the winding yellow roads.

 

- And attend a Valérie the Ring performance.

 

- Who knows what pleasant things we will experience once we are there.

 

Valérie has an appointment with the manager of a luxurious restaurant. Like so many people in the catering business he is part of the local swindlers and only thinks of two things: making money and having sex with a preferable naked woman and in particular with her at the moment. Jewelry she can sell to her usual fence, but she doesn’t have a quick solution for the saved up rare coins. By and by she had learned that this restaurateur has a preference for oldfashioned things. She had contacted him and now they sit at a table in a niche in his chique diner.

 

- What do you have for me?

 

- Old coins.

 

She places a black, tied up, velvet pouch on the square table between them. The manager pulls the loop and empties the content on the tabletop. Some coins roll to the edge and he drops the pouch and stops them with both hands. He looks at the coins for a moment and then picks one up.

 

- This one is worth something, the rest is worthless.

 

- How much?

 

- Fifty.

 

- A hundred. You can have them all for a hundred.

 

- I’m cutting my own meat then. Seventy for all.

 

- Eighty.

 

- Almighty. That will make me broke. It’s a good thing you look fine otherwise I would say: pick up your stuff and get out of my sight. Seventyfive.

 

- I can live with that.

 

The manager gets out his purse from a hidden pocket and counts fifteen pieces of five Silverlings each. Valérie puts the pieces in her own purse. Once outside, broadly grinning, she decides to walk to the Central Garden and treat herself to a wellearned drink. She follows the yellow pathways to the Teahouse and sits down on the terrace.

 

George sees her and elbows Sjari.

 

- The singer just sat down.

 

Sjari had been looking around enjoying herself. They had wandered around practically the entire Central Garden, uphill, downhill following the yellow pathways. George had pointed at strangely shaped trees, bushes, waters and critters and talked his head off about how beautiful, magnificent and fantastic everything was. After some time they had sat down on this terrace with an overview of an immense pond. Now she looks in the direction George is indicating with outstretched hand.

 

- Ah yes. I see her. Maybe you can go ask her when her next performance is.

 

- She won’t like that, I guess.

 

- How do you know if you don’t try. Some people like attention.

 

George collects every ounce of courage he has, pushes back his chair, rises and shuffles between other terracevisitors to Valérie. Amused she watches him approach.

 

- Hello miz De Ring. My friend and I wonder when your next performance is.

 

She weaves her fingers through her long hair, takes a nip and decides she likes the young man. She wants to tease him a bit.

 

- Your girlfriend has no problem with you trying to ask me on a date?

 

- No! We’ve come to Big Plain especially to see you sing.

 

- Where are you from?

 

- Me I’m from Winevillage near the Loud Ocean and my friend from much farther away, Rocktown, wherever that is. I don’t know.

 

- From far away then.

 

She ponders for a moment.

 

- Tomorrow evening at the Theaterhall on the Timeless Square.

 

She hands him two free tickets.

 

- If you want to, you may come to my dressingroom afterwards.

 

The atmosphere before and during the concert is breathtaking. People in the lounge show off their clothing and bodies. Fantastic hairdoos, piercings, bizarre dresses, pills to enhance the experience, everything is there. But it fades at the brilliant singing of Valérie the Ring. She is soberly dressed and uses her special voice, hoarse and low, loud and high in such a way that male and female crotches become wet and fans sway to and fro drooling.

At first George and Sjari are watching open mouthed. Then they mix enthousiastically among the jumping and bumping people on the floor. They dance close together and how when the final notes before the break sound, they end kissing. George sees Valérie looking in their direction and beckoning them. Taking Sjari’s hand in his own, he pulls her with him backstage.

 

- I have to go for an errand for a minute. George, you come with me and Sjari, you stay here in my dressingroom and if anybody asks for me, tell them I’ll be out shortly.

 

George really wants to stay with Sjari, but the challenge is too great and he runs after the singer with her flowing, long, blueblack hair, who runs in front of him without looking back. At a stately house she opens the door in an inimitable way.

 

- You watch if anybody is coming...

 

Hardly a minute later she is back with a black velvet pouch, that she hands over to him. She closes the door neatly. They run back to the Theaterhall.

 

- Keep it on you untill after the show.

 

A few moments later she is swinging on the stage.

 

Sjari looks at her frowning.

 

- You have to hide? Won’t be easy with your appearance.

 

Valérie had come to the inn where George and she are staying for the time being. She had slipped into their room skittishly and she had told The Law was looking for her to assist them with the solution of a number of spectacular heists. Earlier that night, in her dressingroom, George had explained they wouldn’t be much longer in Big Plain, because he wanted to cash in on an invitation from Han and Xi buildingpartners. He had returned the black pouch without asking any questions and they had parted in a friendly way. Now she is sitting qietly on the edge of the bed on which George is snoring lightly, halfway on his side.

 

- I want to go with you, if I may.

 

The Builder Han cannot keep his eyes off of Valérie. She IS a magnificent woman, George thinks. And she can sing, oh boy!

 

- Drink, anybody?

 

- Yes why not?

 

The singer openly flirts with Han. George watches with interest and hopes to learn from it. Sjari has a smile around her mouth and keeps her distance. He has always thought she is a nice young woman, but now he studies her attentively and admires the lines of her face, the posture of her arms and legs* and feels a tingle travelling through his body from the top of his head to the tips of his fingers and toes. O yeah!

 

* Romance can be triggered by idealised mental images. In the case of George it is habituation, proximity and the shape of the body parts between arms and legs of miss Hari.

 

Han and Xi’s office cannot be reached in the normal way. There is no train connection and they had to be checked thoroughly first. The fact that George had received an invitation made the difference. They had received the instruction to report to a regulating station, had been checked thoroughly again for diseases and convictions and after approval had got three codes to be scanned into a panel in a closed, narrow cabin, after which they had suddenly appeared here. Han had given them the tour and their brains had become dizzy from quantum. subquantum, Builders and ultra Builders, the SerpentWorld scales, Lucida and finally Tabith. They had needed a bit of quiet, Han had perfectly sensed that.

 

- Where is your partner, Han?

 

- George, isn’t it? Xi is at Tabith, I think. Or at home. Yes, she will be. She wanted to check up on some loose ends. She always wants to freshen up before coming to the office.

 

- Too bad. I would have liked to meet her.

 

- Interested in our profession? Or just craving for the unreachable?

 

- Your profession seems to be difficult and we, I mean Sjari and me and Valérie as well, don’t let something that seems to be unreachable stop us.

 

- It’s not difficult for us. You have a long journey across the helix behind you, so I believe you. And remember, Xi and I are people with special skills, not more valuable than the rest.

 

- Can I have another drink?

 

- Of course Valérie. Sjari? No? George? Neither. Well, there’s more for us then.

 

They discuss Lucida. George listens attentively to Han’s explanation of the first reconnaissance, the design, the construction until the application of the finishing touch, while Valérie takes bored sips from an ever emptier glass and Sjari is watching the two men with a little smile.

 

- You have seen the advertisement. Soon we will open the finished world at Lucida for people who want to settle there. Maybe you want to be one of the first?

 

- How difficult is it to become a Builder?

 

Han shruggs and addresses all three visitors.

 

- It is in you. I wasn’t aware of it until my surroundings pointed me to it. Sometimes things changed when I touched them. But mostly it is in your thoughts. Has any of you ever experienced something like that, something strange that happened when you wanted it?

 

Valérie grins. Sjari looks at her knees shyly. George nods.

 

- My one leg was longer than the other. From when I was young as far as I can remember. Since we, I mean Sjari and I, are on the road, it doesn’t bother me any more. At first I could hardly walk straight. Now I can outrun her if I want to.

 

- Have you measured again? The length of your legs.

 

- No. No, you think...

 

Han picks up a tape measure from a desk and takes his inside leg size.

 

- Both the same.

 

Sjari hesitates and then it flops out.

 

- Before I left Rocktown, I wore glasses. I couldn’t see further than a dozen meters. After that everything became blurry. I was teased a lot with it, first at school and later at work.

 

- You left because of that?

 

She nods. Valérie sings a couple of lines from one of her songs.

 

- I really want people to like my music. And they do.

 

- I have always believed that all people possess an aptitude to be Builders in their genes. Xi doesn’t agree. She says you may have a predisposition, but that only with iron discipline and boundless ambition you can really become a Builder. And not everybody can be an ultra Builder.

 

The four of them approach the building that is partly positioned in the slope of the hill. They had been catapulted over the edge of this scale of the SerpentWorld by means of the subquantum connection until they looked out over hills as far as their eyes reached. Their journey across this small part of the helix doesn’t last too long. It makes up only a small part of the new, constructed SerpentWorld.

The house of Xi the Builder has flowing lines. Veils of finely woven cloth are lifted in the wind behind wide open windows and doors. The groundfloor is built with glass panels. Han, Valérie, George and Sjari can look inside easily. Upstairs they see a gigantic balcony on which a slender woman is standing stockstill. She doesn’t react when they greet her.

They gather their courage and enter, mount a wide staircase in Xi’s direction. Again there’s no answer when they greet her. When Sjari walks around Xi and looks her in the face, she sees tears from the woman’s eyes dripping on her cheeks. Are they tears? It seems they reflect the sunlight, even when Sjari is blocking it and her shadow falls on the pretty face. They emit light themselves!

Only after George cautiously puts his hand on the rigid woman’s shoulder as if to comfort her she moves her head.

 

- Help me.

 

- What can we do for you?

 

- Hold me.

 

Han, Valérie, George and Sjari put their arms around Xi and each other. After standing some time in this entangled position the tears, or whatever they are, disappear and the frozen statue thaws between their bodies.

 

- Thank you.

 

- Can we let go?

 

- Yes, they are under control now.

 

4.

On reaching the Akrienu system, Xieaou takes in the command position at the customary place in the main force. The flanks consist of warriors of the lowest class, the cruel, ruthless TjeeTjee. The forceps formation will lead to losses and it will be better if they are the ones falling.

Xieaou gestures the beginning of the attack and the company assistants pass on the command. The column is set in motion, first with speed, but soon the forward momentum is stalled. The enemy is tougher than expected and the big Boss switches to plan B.

 

The TjeeTjee troops ransack the previously occupied territories, while the main force pulls back and tries to reach the heart of the enemy with a detour. Once that centre taken, victory will be a matter of consolidation.

For a moment the maneuver seems successful, but then it is as if space itself works against them. Their energy is taken from them and the initial enthusiasm decreases drastically. Xieaou’s many strategy changes weigh heavily on the company assistants. They can no longer inform the troops in a timely fashion and an impasse occurs. They make no progress, but are not pushed back either.

 

In the lee of the battle the big Boss perceives a change in environment. The enemy is leaving the system and there is a moment’s disorientation of subquantum displacement. Perplexed Xieaou notices nothing can be done against it. The equal battle continues for a long time. Space around the troops contracts and their movements become slower and slower. Xieaou’s decisions and directions are passed on later and later and even the TjeeTjee are contained in their bloodthirst.

 

When finally the posture for pulling back is not answered, the big Boss tries to save the skin on their backs with a never before applied tactical destruction. That fails as well. Without liberty of movement Xieaou finally gives in to complete defeat and surrenders to the enemy’s mercy.

 

5.

- Atoms consist of overlapping energies.

 

Xi has sat down again. Udolf the Psycho makes notes in his special stenografic writing style.

 

- For centuries scientists have claimed that atoms consist of protons, neutrons and electrons and that we can only see them when we observe them. Nonsense of course. We see energy as EM radiation between certain wavelengths. We hear energy up to a certain frequency. We feel energy because the one in our skin collides with the one in for example this chair.

 

- You have said that before.

 

- And I say it again. Maybe you will understand why I made an error of judgement then.

 

- OK. Explain.

 

- Light creatures, as you called them, exist no more than we do.

 

- We think, therefore we exist. No?

 

- Depends on your definition of existence. Of course each one of us forms a complex system of mutually influencing energies, that interact with other systems. If that is existence, you are right.

 

- Why don’t we exist then?

 

- The question should be: how can it be that we know who we are? Or better still: how can it be that we know that we are? For we think we exist.

 

- I never liked philosophy much...

 

- The light creatures, as you call them, exist in the unlimited space at subquantum level. The wisps I thought I saw near Tabith were only reflections of their true forms in our 4D Minkowski space. That was the error I made. They cannot exist here. In my stretched out ultra Builder form they could attack me and hitch a ride along.

 

- It was just a matter of changing back then?

 

- I just stood there on my balcony, all alone and was pulled apart on all sides at subquantum level. It took all my energy to not lose my human form and be forever encapsulated in that strange space and time. Only when Sjari, George, Valérie and Han hugged me, I had enough material on hand to break the impasse I was in.

 

- And now?

 

6.

Xieaou is in the dedicated living quarters. The enemy has sat free the big Boss, the people and the assistants and has left them this part of the subquantum world on this newly constructed scale of the SerpentWorld she has created. She is not of their world, which means there must be other worlds. Some greater, some tinier. There are others like her. The big Boss has a lot to think about. For the moment these creatures are too powerful for the people. Xieaou dismisses these thoughts and recommences his work on day to day chores.

 

Impressum

Texte: Yuoan Brasseur
Cover: Yuoan Brasseur
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 22.04.2023

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