Day 41 - Babel - Chapter 3 (1817 words)

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BABEL

By Wayne Webb

CHAPTER 3

The ships were just there in the sky, no warning signs of any kind. There were no ominous rumbles, no clouds formed in billowing storms or lightning arcs across the horizon. No sound, no light not even much movement. Someone looked up and there was a spaceship in the sky, the saucer like disc that seemed to take up more sky that it ought to, suspended as if painted on the ceiling of the world. Far enough and big enough to be depthless at this distance and clueless as to it's intentions.

There was a babble from the Babel among the community, mouths open and sounds emanating in panicked tones, but no sounds they made carried any sense more than the feeling of alien presence and the frustration of being reminded of the helplessness of the situation.

George stood in the middle of a pathway, on a small rise that lead to his home with Anne, at the centre of the Fire-village. With the advent of the breakaway communities, even with only one person per village a name was going to be necessary. They could not write or understand any lettering or even numerals, pictogram were the only option. So George had worked it out with Barbara, the first of the Few (another immune to Babel) he met to give them identifying symbols. The core community was Fire, designated by a stylised flame icon that Anne drew up and made easy to reproduce. The first breakaway was Water, a few wavy lines, the third was Tree and the fourth Mountain. Each corresponded to a natural feature that made sense geographically and was easy to teach to the Babel who lived there.

Despite being the only people who could actually talk to each other, the four Few spent little time together. There was always too much to do and so much needed by the various communities they were attached to. The four of them were far from perfect, but it was like having hundreds of children who needed you, and it never stopped. They each found they dealt with things in their own way, in ways that worked for the community and the individuals within. As time progressed there were changes in the way that the Babel were distributed, the Few being able to see what they were like, what the others that interacted with them were like and how it all worked together. Fire-village was more family oriented and most of the single, uncomplicated lives that distinguished the Water-village chaffed in that kind of arrangement. You could not tell by talking to any one of the people, the Babel could not talk back, but signs and moods were easily read when you were the only one in town who could affect things effectively.

Each village had their own level and style, all variations on a theme brought together and surviving out of necessity. When the ships appeared in the sky they all came back to Fire and crowded around George, the one where all this had started.

He was not sure which unsettled him more, the silent mass of expectation or the silent mass of metal and glass in the sky above them. No one was chattering, not in gibberish and not in frustration, but they were all pointing and gesturing. At the sky and then themselves, they knew.

They knew inside that this is where the Babel had come from, no proof and no evidence but long enough had passed that conclusions would be drawn. George had thought the same thing himself, but having the power of language again did him no favours. He stared up at the behemoth, so far above to not even cast them in shadow, the sun being ahead of it in the day.

The length and breadth of it was just stunning and defied reason, no visible engines or propulsion just a flat expansive curve that covered a quarter or more of the sky, and was moving slowly, but surely overhead. The sun would be down before the ship eclipsed any daylight, and the progression rate it moved through the atmosphere at was going to mean that it would likely be gone in the morning. It was high, higher than some of the clouds, which eddied below it in places, thrust aside inexorably and slow as this mountainous machine pushed on.

George figured he knew where it was going and he had seen enough movies and sci-fi chows to know the drill at least as far as he guessed. Wasn't this how invasions worked? Head to the most populous areas and take them over? Though these days the cities were only fit for the insane and the grief stricken holdouts, starving and dying from disease waiting for a cure that was never coming, fighting to hold on to scraps of a civilisation that no longer existed.

George had been back to Auckland twice since the Fire-village had become his home, once on a raid to get supplies including medication not long after Doctor Wu had arrived, and once since then just to check up on how things were going. After the second visit he felt no desire to return again. There was death and destruction everywhere and no one was welcoming or supportive. The City was a place of madness, and while he had not been further south to Hamilton or north to Whangarei he had to assume that they were just as bad. No planes flew over head since fuel had run out, no electricity came up the network (they had left things plugged in at key locations to check) and no one came looking except a few individuals and families looking for a better life, not looking to take anyone back to civilisation.

That’s where this ship was headed, and there was nothing he could do about it. He waited while the other Few settled their people and came together for a conclave. It was the first time they had spoken in a few weeks and as always those first words sounded harsh and discordant in the usual wordless spaces in the Fire-village. Evening was staring to creep towards them, in the summer that meant that they had a couple of hours before dark, and herding people back to the relative safety of the village areas would be hard once that came down. They were organised and had paths, marked with the community icons yes, but stress and fear would make it like managing children even more so than usual.

As the light was fading, the underside of the ship cast a glow, it had a source of light all it's own, as strong or as weak as the street-lights of old so the darkness was not complete, but still after a year of living the rustic country existence with minimal power, solar batteries and flames for heat and light most times, it was a ever present reminder that whatever they had gotten used to was going to change.

Water was smiling as George was rubbing his head in confusion and tiredness. Tree and Mountain were very close, a male and female pair who had become a quasi-couple who camped near each other, Mountain-village was on a rise overlooking all three other sites and was the first to sound the alarm about the ship. Tree was the nearest to them and their Few had been hooking up, thinking to breed the immunity into whatever children they had. The children born to Fire-village were still babies and not likely to be talking yet, the kids that were already in the community lost their voices with the Babel, and this next generation was going to be the one that revealed the hope or despair for passing on the genetic materials that would outlast or accept the Babel. So Jane and Richard from Tree and Mountain respectively had decided to experiment genetically, and enjoy themselves doing it. It also meant that they could easily break away from each other to tend to their community when they had enough of the relationships and then dip back in when it suited them both. No one really had the time, there was too much to do. However in the few weeks since George (Fire) had seen Jane (Tree), she had started showing and the bump was pronounced in her every move with it at the centre.

“Wow. Just Wow, yeah?” Water was still grinning.

George eyeballed Barbara and then looked the other two neither of them knew what to make of it. They had only just found their place, had been here a month to three at most and now this was something new and threatening. They said nothing, but like the Babel they protected and lived with their faces spoke volumes.

“It must be heading to the City.” George could not tear his eyes off of it.

“Should we go after it?”

“And do what exactly?”

Richard (Mountain) was worried and put an arm around Jane (Tree). “We don't know anything about them guys, they brought the Babel, they can't be a good thing for us you know?” Jane (Tree) said nothing but put her hands protectively on her baby bump as if it were much bigger and in need of comforting.

Barbara (Water) shook her head. “I don't think so, guys they are obviously not going to cause us any harm, they must have used the Babel to stop us from reacting just like you guys are now. I mean look at us with out shoot first ask questions later routine?”

George (Fire) tore his gaze away. “No one suggested violence, rather caution.”

“If we had guns, we would be having to hold people back from attacking the aliens, they must know that why else send the Babel.”

This was troubling, they actually had guns and no one was pointing them at the ship, such a gesture was futile given the immense bulk of the spaceship. But Barbara (Water) had built a narrative in her head and was fitting the details of her world view into the scenario and was not going to budge.

“We should go after it.”

“You're needed here.” George (Fire) was not in charge, but he felt like the father in this scenario and walked the line between authoritarian and guardianship. He knew she had made up her mind.

She was already going, and he was already planning how to distribute the care for Water-village among the three of them, soon to be two when Jane (Tree) had her baby. She'd need to move near Doctor Wu or have the Doctor move up there to Tree.

Why now? Why had they come now? Had they sent the Babel? If they had what would they make of the Few, the ones who were immune and presumably did not fit the plan. What then?