FANTASTIC PLANET v2.0 (11 page)

The flabby
mouth opened like a funnel and bawled towards the clouds. The horrendous and
piercing sound cracked over the sea like a whip on a drum. The smooth water
became rippled
in a circle one stadia
wide and the
ocean appeared to have goose pimples.

The prong
unfolded clumsily a fin, twirled around, lost its balance and fell
thunderously.

When the
spray stopped raining down, the head could still be seen floating but the water
was already surging into the open mouth. The fin moved about as it fell in
semi-circle on vessel 3 which was already moving away. The ship appeared to
nose up, before looping on a wave and disappearing... forever.

Looking pale
after an hour of fruitless underwater searching, the Aedile called off the rescue.

'Farewell,
brave companions', he said. 'As for us, it's impossible! We won't get through.
Let's drift along the Siwo to spare our reactors. We'll lose two days. Is that
what you're thinking too?'

'You're
right', said Sav. 'The first prong cost us a ship. And we'll come across
thousands of eggs. Let's sail at their speed and ensure we don't break any...
or we'd all die too!'

Looking
drawn, he glanced at the sea. They were drifting amongst green domes which were
gently hitting the ships' hulls.

Two long anxious days
followed, living in dread of breaking an egg. At times tepid winds hastened the
dance and shells struck the ships hard. Everyone clenched their teeth,
expecting a roar freeing twenty prongs simultaneously.

In fact only
one prong was seen born prematurely in the distance. Two eggs grazed against
each other. The first one vomited harmless magma, but the other opened up on a
trumpeting monster which sank straight down, its mouth gaping as if it had made
a wish to bellow until the end of time.

After the
second day, the Siwo veered gently towards the equator, towards the Bay of
Prongs where the prongs are born, romping and coupling for months before their
annual flight to the poles. There, they laid their eggs in the current and the
cycle started again.

Terr decided
to leave the Siwo. To avoid having an accident at the last moment, the two
ships travelled underwater the ten stadia needed to free them from the maritime
river.

The next
night was quiet but the rising sun revealed crimson water. They were nearing
the Foam Pot where the ocean was battered by adverse winds and foamed
incredibly.

Slowly, as
the hours went by, the vessels were cleaving through creamy waters. The
Aedile's ship was first. As it went forward its stem was at first fraying lumps
₀
f white foam, then floating bundles of cotton, and later mountains
of spume which from a distance looked like icebergs.

Soon the
water and the sky were invisible. The ships had to feel their way in the midst
of a gigantic foam bath, across a marvellous world full of mesmeric
multicoloured glints of light. Thousands of translucent spheres surrounded the
ships on all sides, slobbering, flecking with fleecy steam and bubbling with
hundreds of different fiery glows.

They
travelled for a long time through this play of light, as it infinitely altered
spectres and rays, images and mirages, refringence and fringes, in unreal
colourings where the eye got lost in concave perspectives.

Invisible
and far above them, the sky toyed with the golden clouds, projecting its fantasies
in the foam as if crafting a giant kaleidoscope.

***

Their eyes
burnt by these wonders, it was night by the time they emerged from this
floating palace of mirages. And then, having suddenly appeared from behind a
mountain of foam, another mirage awaited them.

Far away on
the horizon, yet so real one wanted to touch it, the Wild Continent appeared to
float in the air like an island, its mountains outlined against the light above
a slack and shiny sea.

Terr ordered
the latch to be opened. A whiff of perfume swept through the gangway, as if
commissioned to greet the Oms. The bay was calm. A few birds circled high above
cawing in the tepid air.

The
hatchways were opened. A crowd of migrants populated the deck. Terr spoke a few
happy words, in poetical harmony with the surroundings. He gestured with his
hand:

'Oms', he
said, 'destiny is offering us the Wild Continent like a cake on a silver
plate!'

He turned to
Sav and added:

'With all the trimmings!'

He was
pointing at small islands of strange fruit and flowers which floated here and
there, rocking gently as small waves lapped up their sides.

Sav seemed
to be snapping out of a dream. He looked at the fruit and flowers against which
the stem was knocking.

'I don't
recommend you touch them', he said.

'Because?'

'Pandane fruit!'

'That's what
it is!'

'Yes, deadly
burns!'

More of the
continent's details could be seen. It was split in panoramic scenes dominated
by the colours red, gold and purple, depending on the distance. Languid breezes
were lazily shaking palms leaning over the beaches. Further away, valleys were
meandering on the hillsides. The jungles were noisy with the chatter of
animals. Strong whiffs of scents were swirling between the headlands and the
promontories.

'Here's the
river!' said the Aedile.

To the right
an estuary was spilling its green waters into the lustrous bay.

An hour
later the two ships were sailing up the river, beneath a canopy of foliage and
triumphant arcs of intertwined liana gently dropping petals into the water.

At every
bend the meanders revealed a surprise: a pandane's plume on top of a hill,
beaches of black sand shining with mica, an arch of polished stone stretched
across the valley...

Sav was
observing the banks:

'A pegoss!'
he announced.

A mass with
heavy members could be seen shaking itself in the silt.

'A cervuse, a bossk!'

A graceful
silhouette could be seen running away beneath the branches, chased by a jerky
trot.

Calls,
growls and rattles crossed each other from one bank to the other above the Oms'
heads.

When night
had fallen, they reached the lake showing on the maps. The Aedile gave the
order to anchor in a creek. Two muffled detonations were heard as anchor shells
harpooned the seabed, showing two concentric waves on the surface and mooring
the ships solidly.

Terr ruled
out disembarking. He went down to the map room, accompanied by Sav and two
officers.

Char and
Vail, who had travelled in Ship 2, soon joined them, followed by quartermaster
2 and his deputies.

'Oms', said
Terr, 'the Exodus has succeeded. It cost us a lot and I'd rather not even
mention Ship 3. There's no need to dwell in the past. Other dangers await us.
But we are safe from the Traags. They very rarely set foot on this continent.
It'll be easy to hide for a long time. It'll be harder to get organised and
survive. Our reserves will not last forever. And there are no factories or
warehouses to pillage here. We are not Traag parasites anymore, but the master
race of this wild region of Ygam.'

'We are only
accountable to ourselves, and we can only rely on ourselves... and let's not
forget we have to fulfil our duty. We are privileged. Millions of Oms are still
held captive by the Traags. They'll have to be freed from slavery. It might
take generations to achieve this great plan. Perhaps we'll never see it in our
lifetime. But let it shine above us like a sacred goal. Let it fire us up, and
perhaps our children's children might succeed!'

He unfolded
a map and placed a finger in the middle.

'The High
Plateaus', he said. 'That's where we've planned to settle. Though enticing,
these forests now around us are too hazardous...'

The Traags'
Great Council was held in turn in each of the continent's capital cites. This
time they were assembled in Klud, Continent
A
South's
capital city.

In a vast
chamber decked out with busts of famous Councillors from the past, the four
First Councillors were sitting enthroned among twenty subordinates each.

Admitted as
a speaker, Master Singh was installed on a comfortable mattress in the middle
of the hall, at equal distance from the four large tables. Whilst he was
speaking, the passion and conviction of his account caused him to gesticulate
wildly. Sceptical, some First Councillors suspected him of showing off and
whispered he was making dramatic use of his membranes.

'Well',
Master Singh was saying, 'the fiximages in your hands speak for themselves. I
beg you, First Councillors, not to minimise the importance of facts. The Traags
are used to considering themselves as a master race and with reason. To the
point that trying to imagine a race capable of replacing us seems ridiculous.
Yet I assert that the Oms represent a pressing danger.'

'You cannot
doubt the images
laid
out before your eyes. The Oms
have created a city, organised and armed themselves. You think it would be easy
to pulverize them and on that point you are right... Provided they have not
progressed by the time you decide to act.
Provided they have
not found a way of countering us.'

He paused
for a while and raised an arm before continuing:

'Yet the
last fiximages are worrying. What are these three massive shapes cleared of
parasitic halos by our technicians? Some mentioned spacecrafts! This would be
alarming and show astounding technical capabilities. But in this case our
concerns should be mitigated by a secret hope, since manufacturing such
machines demonstrates in the Oms a desire for escape and exile! It would then
be political to try to contact them and assist them in their plans: we would be
rid of them... Unfortunately, or fortunately, I don't think that is the case.
It is too early. The Oms are not yet capable of such a feat. I am inclined to
favour another hypothesis, substantiated by the opinion of learned scholars
and, without even calling on experts, by simple common sense.'

He wiped his
eardrums and pointed at the map of A South hanging behind the delegates from
that continent.

'The Oms
have picked a port!' he proclaimed.
'The nearest port to the
Wild Continent.
And the three enigmatic objects are ships! Their
profile, the shape of the stem, the gangway cover, it's all there. It is
obvious, even to a poorly trained eye!'

He looked
slowly at the four Councillors in turn, and added:

'We must
hurry, First Councillors, the Oms are fast. If you don't act in time, the Wild
Continent will soon only be accessible at great cost! If you strike a big blow,
even supposing my ideas are nothing more than an old man's delusions, you will
only have fought against a shadow, which will cost you nothing and leave your
conscience clear... I have spoken.'

He saluted
by stretching his membranes, said "Happiness onto you" and left the
chamber.

As soon as
he had left, the A South First Councillor raised his hand. Three heads nodded
to let him speak. He suppressed a smile and said:

'First
Councillors, Master Singh is a Traag of considerable merit, a scholar. Though
his profession leads him a little too far in his prophecies...'

A wave of
amusement rippled through the assembly.

'...I saw
fit to take his warnings into account. The Oms are unquestionably evolving,
progressing, and having founded a city could in time constitute a danger... I
have thus taken the measures you know; the old port is encircled by a
telebarrier. I am counting on your agreement to activate it.'

'Good. From
tomorrow the Oms will not be able to leave their city!'

'They'll
still have the sea', someone joked.

Everyone
smiled.

'To please
Master Singh', carried on the A South First Councillor, i am proposing to send
to the port a squad of soldiers. Should the Oms resist, their order will be to
sweep everything with hard rays. We could then visit the dead city in order, as
Master Singh says
,
to clear our conscience.'

Everyone
clapped, laughing. The speaker waved to say he had something to add.

'However,
let us heed some of his warnings. I personally ordered a bimonthly deomisation
on my continent as well as the sterilisation of the more intelligent Oms. I
recommend you to adopt similar measures on your respective territories.'

The First
Councillor for B North spoke:

‘I support
them', he simply said.

The other
two First Councillors repeated in chorus:

‘I support
them!'

They in turn
pressed a switch which automatically affixed their seal to the decree
registered on the floor below by the debates' telerecorder.