Jupiter
Posted: Tuesday, November 25, 2008
by Michael Ramzy
delusionthread.com
A place of fervid luxuriance and subtle death, Jupiter remains to this day something both awe-inspiring and mysterious. The largest planet was once thought to be a star, which was not true, or perhaps paired with its giant brother Saturn to form one Colossus that anchored the solar system, which was also not true. Jupiter is and always will remain isolated, both by its poisonous thousand-mile storms and its daunting distance from Earth.
Those who live through the storms cannot comprehend them either.
Rail stood on the ridge and looked out across the surface of glass and diamond to the other side of the valley. He knew they were there, yet with the harmonics of the sky, like voices tinged with a longing he could not fathom, it was hard to concentrate on what he was supposed to do about them. The harmonics and the caravan's preparations behind him made him shake his head and turn around. He was surprised to see his leader, Var, standing alone only a few paces away. Var's eyes were trained across the glass valley.
Rail immediately bowed, then dropped to one knee. "My Lord," he said, the surprise in his voice plain through the harmonics. A sudden thought occurred to him: I am not equal to this task.
"Commander," Var returned, walking up to Rail. "What do you think?"
"Any moment now," Rail replied, straightening. "Perhaps they will wait until after we've begun to leave. Get us while we're on the move." Both knew a moving caravan was the easiest of targets.
"Perhaps," Var agreed, turning to look at the caravan. Thousands of his beings were hastily preparing their departure, yet another in a long, almost endless series of retreats.
"We must stop them," Rail said, nodding toward where the Others were undoubtedly preparing their attack. The Others, known only as outsiders to Var's beings, had been chasing them across the surface of the planet for millennia.
"To try would mean extinction," Var said succinctly. "Our lives . . . our life, is worth more than that."
Rail simply nodded and wisely kept silent.
"Or perhaps you have an opinion?" Var continued.
"My Lord, we must stop them now. Here," Rail said. "Our life, our history, is rapidly becoming defined by one word." He looked directly at Var. "Retreat."
"Better retreat than defeat. Or extinction."
A dance signaled the caravan's departure. Originally meant to honor times of joy and celebration, these days it had been a signal to the enemy of retreat. It was still joyous, yet there was a strange note of apprehension present. The Others, hearing the voices sing, decided to invade the caravan at their moment of celebration.
The Others, outsiders to Jupiter, had been trying for centuries to convert the natives to a more complex, technological way of life. The beings of Jupiter were a race kindred to thousands of nomadic cultures throughout the universe. As with those cultures, the beings of Jupiter lived a mostly simple, humble existence. The life of a nomad was what had so far saved them from extinction. It was also what was driving them in retreat across the planet.
Rail watched in horror as the Others attacked the caravan. He led the charge to repel the invasion and lost most of his force. Lord Var and his groups escaped undamaged, yet most of the seventy thousand-strong caravan were butchered in place.
After the battle, Rail worked his way to the edge of the valley and met with his lieutenants. He saw the looks on their faces. "We must stop them," Rail said, his breath coming in spurts. "And now."
"We will retreat," a low voice said from behind him. Rail turned and saw Lord Var, his raiment in tatters from the battle. Or perhaps from his escape, Rail thought strangely.
"No," Rail said, standing his ground. The others in the group recoiled at this sudden defiance. "We will not." I will not.
In the distance they could hear the call of the Others, a horn sounding the coming massacre. The Others had tasted victory, their most fruitful yet, and we prepared to finish off the and finally claim the planet as their own.
Var looked at Rail and narrowed his eyes. "We retreat and we will survive to . . . to fight another day."
"No," Rail said again, drawing his weapon. "Always we retreat, always the Others come and kill and maim and always we retreat to fight another day." His voice suddenly exploded. "But we do not fight! We run and hide and hope the Storms aid us, hope the sky and perhaps the moons themselves will come to our aid. All of this because of some blind faith!"
"Faith is never blind," Var reminded his subordinate.
"I will stay," Rail said sternly. "I alone will finish this and gain a final end to this conflict." He looked around the ragtag group of rebels. "The rest of you can run away and put your faith in the Storms and perhaps they will sing you a song of my defeat. But if I am to be defeated, it will not be while I am running away!"
Rail watched the remainder of the caravan, with Var in the lead, move out of the valley. He could see the Others come streaming onto the glass sea, hundreds of thousands of the small creatures with their master in front, a giant Other who Rail knew to be the leader. Without hope or faith, Rail ran down to meet the Others.
Tarn, the leader of the Others, watched Rail's swift approach. The Others moved to surround the two of them and the implication was clear: centuries of fighting would be settled in one moment. Right here.
The storms above in the atmosphere, storms which never touched the surface, seemed to take on a more urgent pitch, a more anticipatory fervor. As the two beings battled, the storms raged on and on. Lightning flashed thousands of miles across the thick, poisonous sky. Colors flowed into and through each other, changing the light from a neutral fog to brilliant, bright red.
As they fought, Var and the other natives stopped to watch the storms above. The Others also raised their heads and looked above as the sky seemed to take a keen interest in the battle.
A sudden faint and Tarn's weapon slid through the heart of Rail. In the moment of death, Rail saw everything clearly: his life, the life of the beings he was sworn to protect, everything. His passion for defending his culture was reflected in the sky above, and as the Others trumpeted their victory the storms trumpeted their loss for in their own way the storms were kindred to the natives of Jupiter.
It would not be long before the Others hunted the natives to extinction. Then it would not be long before the Others themselves, either through conquest or perhaps through the simple passage of time, died out.
Jupiter would remain as it had been, a planet which was violently beautiful and one which would remain isolated. The storms would daunt even the most ambitious traveler from any attempt at conquest. The life of Rail's species, one that refused to fight for its survival or destiny, would eventually be forgotten.
The life of Rail, or more specifically his stand, would be remembered by the storms and related through the generations of weather to follow. The monument they created to Rail, the Great Red Spot above the surface of the planet, remains to this day.
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Top-level comments on this article: (1 total)Very interesting story with a great ending.Thanks. Sorry it took so long to respond. I'm a newbie!
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