FANTASTIC PLANET v2.0

FANTASTIC
PLANET

STEPHAN WUL
ISBN 978-1-902197-31-9 Published 2010 by Creation Oneiros
www.creationbooks.com
All world rights reserved Translation by Anthony Georges Whyte Copyright ©
Creation Oneiros 2010 Design by Atavistic Images

This book is
supported by the French Ministry of Foreign Affairs, as part of the Burgess
programme run by the Cultural Department of the French Embassy in London.
(
www.frenchbooknews.com
)

Quietly, the
Traag went near the window overlooking the nature room. Smiling, he watched his
daughter playing. She was a small and pretty Traag girl, with big red eyes, a
narrow nasal slit,
a
mobile mouth and, on either side
of her smooth skull, two eardrums so fine they appeared translucent.

She was
running on the lawn, tumbling and rolling towards the pool crying out in joy.
She dived below the water as deep as possible to take enough of a run up to
surge out like a rocket and reach the diving board, gripping it with the tips
of her fingers. The third time around, she missed the diving board and had to
spread her arms' membranes in order to glide down onto the grass. She stood
still for a while, thinking of a new game. At only three metres tall, she was
slight for a seven year old.

Her father
entered the nature room and walked towards her. He took her by the hand, still
smiling. She raised her head towards him.

'I promised
you a surprise', said the Traag.

She remained
motionless for a while, and then, her red eyes lit up with joy as she gripped
her father's hand with her twenty small fingers and shrieked:

'The
neighbour's Om had her little one!'

'She had
two', said the Traag. 'That's quite rare. We will pick the best looking one for
you. Or rather, you will choose it yourself.'

She pulled
on her father's arm, stamping her feet.

'Hurry,
Father, take me to see them!'

'You must
get dressed first,' said the Traag pointing at the tunic abandoned on the lawn.

Hurriedly
she put on the thin garment and ran ahead of her father. One after the other,
they crossed the mound separating them from the house next door.

'Hurry
Father!' said the Traag child stretching up to try and touch the entry phone, a
simple shiny plate fastened on the door.

'You're too
short; don't get all worked up,' said the Traag as he touched it with his hand.

The
neighbour's face appeared on the plate and said:

'Here you
are Praw, I see you brought Tiwa.'

'And how
impatient she is!' smiled Praw through his wide oral slit.

The door
opened; Faoz was waiting for them at the entrance to the nature room. He
politely unfolded his membranes, stretching his arms.

'Happiness onto you, Praw.'

'Happiness
onto you Faoz', replied Tiwa's father.

Slipping
beneath the neighbour's legs, the little girl was already running on the lawn.
Her father called her back, half benevolent, half severe.

'Tiwa!
You've not saluted.'

Tiwa rapidly
unfolded a membrane.

'Happiness...'
she said. 'Oh! Neighbour Faoz, where are they? Where are the little Oms?'

With his big
red eye, Faoz looked at Praw knowingly.

'This way,'
he said crossing the room.

They passed
through several doors and entered a small omhouse where a mild animal smell was
floating around despite the immaculate cleanliness.

Stretched on
a cushion, a female Om was breastfeeding her two offspring. She was holding
them tight in her folded arms and they were sucking greedily on her teats.

Tiwa leant
forward to get a closer look at them.

'Oh!' she
said, 'they don't have any hairs on their head!'

'For Oms, we
say hair and not hairs,' explained Praw. 'They are newly born, and their hair
will grow later on.'

She looked
at the mother's long blond hair.

'Will they
have golden hair like their mummy?'

'Certainly,'
said Faoz, 'the father was also of golden blood.'

'They are of
pure race?' asked Praw surprised.

'You know
Tiwa,
this is quite a present you're getting from neighbour
Faoz!'

'Not at all,
I am pleased for Tiwa! Which one would you like, Tiwa?'

The little
girl held out her hand.

'Can I touch
them?'

'Be careful,
the mother might bite. Let me do it.'

Faoz
unfolded his membrane and caressed the Om's blond hair. She growled a little,
from the back of her throat.

'Come,
come,' said her master calming her down. 'Be good, Softina. I don't want to
harm them in any way. I will give them back to you right away... Do you
understand?'

He took the
twins and said:

'She is
intelligent and affectionate, but having babies always makes them a little
snappy. It's instinctive!'

He placed
the baby in Tiwa's hand. It was twisting like a small frog, shaking its minute
clenched fists. A drop of milk was running from its toothless, howling mouth.

'It's so
cute!' admired Tiwa.

Begging, the
female Om was in turn getting hold of her master's legs and Tiwa's, saying over
and over: 'Baby!
Baby!'

The Traag
caressed its head with his free hand.

'Yes, my
Softina, we will return them to you, behave now!'

'They're
both the same', said Tiwa cradling the baby in her hand. 'I choose this one;
can I take it straightaway?'

Her father
protested.

'No, it is
still too young; you can take it in a few

days
when it will be able to walk.'

The young
Traag seemed disappointed. Her red eyes dulled.

'But you can
come to see it before then,' said the neighbour taking the baby from her.

'Yes,' said
her father, 'a few days will go fast. I also need time at home to fit out an
omhouse.'

Tiwa pointed
at the cushion where the Om mother was attending to her babies ensuring they
had not suffered from the Traags.

'Will there
be a cushion like this one in our omhouse?'

'Of course.'

'And a
feeding dish like that?'

'Well yes!'

She was
jumping on the spot, flapping her axillary membranes. She began to sing:

'A little Om!
A little
Om!'

Then,
suddenly more serious:

'They're my
favourite animal!'

The two
Traags smiled.

'And why is
that?'

'Because
they can talk, and they can even swim if you teach them.'

'Yes, but
not very well... Now let's leave our neighbour in peace.'

He turned
towards Faoz, unfolding his membranes.

'Thank you,
Faoz.
Happiness onto you!'

'Happiness,'
said Faoz showing them to the door.

'Don't thank
me, it is nothing really.'

He stroked
Tiwa's smooth head.

'Happiness, little girl.
See you soon!'

'Happiness
onto you, neighbour Faoz.'

She crossed
the mound skipping happily behind her father. She was overjoyed: in a few days
the little Oms will be able to walk and she will have one of her own. It is
true that a single day in the large Ygam planet was equivalent to forty five
days on the small planet called Earth, a faraway world from where the Oms
originated.

When Tiwa's
little Om was big enough to walk on its own, it was separated from its mother.
Neighbour Faoz demanded that this separation be gradual, as he was good and
liked animals.

He started
by entrusting the little one to Tiwa for only one hour a day, then two, and so
on... That way, the mother and her offspring got used to being apart, little by
little. At first, the mother moaned endlessly every time her son left for the
neighbouring house. She then began to transfer her affection onto her other
child.