A Battle on a Canyon

         There is a time and a place where the lives of men are not counted in years or decades. There is a time and place where the love of lovers is but a lasting force that binds for eternity. There is a time where war is as graceful as it is brutal. There is a place where the stars and man move in regard to the other. This spacetime cannot be discerned by pointing or coordinating grids; yet it is real, and will be visited, not now, not for many millennia to come. It is beyond our reach, our fastest rockets would take epochs as long-lived as the age of the dinosaurs to go thus. But the account that follows is true, and daring are the feats accomplished, brave are the undertakers, heroic are the lovers, blind are the bystanders.

         The suns began to set between the canyon walls, all turned to red as if the blood-flower had bloomed; the zodiac tried hard to pierce the setting suns. Sitting down on the ledge of his adobe, Fortis turned over a rusted pan and placed it over the open fire where he soon set to roasting the plump hunt for dinner. Here Fortis recalled the events of his day, recollected his duties for the morrow, resurrected old philosophies from his tutoring. The Council had voted to move forward with its plan to retake the city of Gathlinka in lieu of the decreased presence there by the enemy. He was ordered to investigate the city and report back with a rough head-count in two days time. At last he revisited the idiom taught to all at an early age, life is not for living, life is for doing.

         The suns continued to set, and now only the smallest, the bluest remained above the horizon. The zodiac shone brightly then as the evening lights began to dance above, faintly at first. The roast was complete as his fellows joined him for said food and drink. They ate the roast of the tripedal animal, a very ancient kind, that forages on the plants and raids the farms--a real nuisance these days however. They drank the juice of the blood-flower; a strong, potent drink that burns to the bones and can keel a large man over if not drunk with care. The group discussed the Council's new move with great vigor--no doubt brought on by the drink. Fortis asked, "If asked, would any of you here go to Gathlinka?"

         "Well, if I were given a vast amount of ammunition and very lovely company when I returned," one chuckled.

         "Ah, but I would go just for the chance to kill a few of them bastards, I think my anger is excused if my home-town is sacked by those heathens," said another.

         "Oh Iratus, no one condemns you thusly. And, my friend, Adamo, is that all you think of? Violence and bed-warming?" laughed Fortis.

         "I would not go to Gathlinka for this reason alone: we invaded first. They did nothing to us, at least, not the people," added a third friend.

         "My, oh, my, what sort of passivist are you?! Their government sanctioned the bombing of the Council Hall, their government is made up of gentries appointed due to wealth and name alone. The government is our enemy. How many of its denizens have we killed? How many have they killed of ours?" jested Adamo.

         "I did not come for argument, and I did not intend to cause hightened blood-pressure. Please, let's discuss something else."

         "Good call, Penser. The astronomical observatory has noted that a supernova is heading our way," said Fortis trying to sound respectable and educated.

         "How remarkable is that, when will it arrive?"

         "The report said something like sixteen sectors, which for here is--I think--forty-eight sectors. A while we have yet," added Fortis.

         "At least we live longer than those baffoons who work for us, otherwise we shan't see it, for they must work," said Adamo.

         "Yes, yes, and I feel, though, they deserve a day off to see a supernova," said Iratus in a semi-requestive tone.

         The suns were now far below the ocean-going horizon. The river at the bottom of the canyon reflected the stars of the galaxy above and the evening lights were then brilliantly flashing and streaming across the forest of stars. The fire in the midst of the four companions was still burning steadily, although the sparks in their tongues had since died down. The stars quietly twinkled as the friends ate and drank to their fill and slowly departed one-by-one.

         Now Fortis concluded his daily affairs by sending out a aero-letter to Council members. It read as follows:

My fellow Members,
It has been put to me to undertake a silent, solo operation into the city of Gathlinka. I take this operation at the knowledge of my objective, which is to make an estimated head-count of all enemy combatants in said city. I was told I shall recieve no reserve forces or supplies. An airship will drop me several links outside the city walls and from there, I shall conduct my operation. I write this A.L. to you all in hope that you will pray for me and my success. Thank you. I shall see you soon.

         Upon sending this, Fortis slept. He did not have an uncomfortable night, yet he did have a peculiar one. He dreamt as if he were floating on a cloud with his long-dead father. His father told him several things that he could not recall when he woke. As yet, he was delighted to have dreamed pleasantly of his father.

         The sirens blared at first dawn.

         Fortis woke grumbling to himself, wondering why the sirens would ring at such a time. Soon it came back to him, invasion. Klatwa was preparing for a counterattack from Gathlinka. The sirens wailed in their unusual tone, alternating high screeches and low booms and the occasional pulse of a space-fighter--which, when heard frightens all. The drill lasted for a short while, and when it ceased Fortis resumed his course for the space port.

         No one as yet was traversing the city and he approached the Hall in a very short time. Fellow members greeted him and wished him luck on his endeavor; but all he could think about was what Gathlinka looked like, fifty sectors after the first trouble. A soul from his city had not gazed upon the other not out of some medieval protocol from a distant ruler but rather because the way to it no longer exists. It was destroyed unintentionally by those who fled Gathlinka for Klatwa.

         The relationship between Klatwa and Gathlinka has been quiet and contentious since the Separation. Once the most powerful union on the planet--in terms of economy and power and culture--it was quickly and bloodily reduced to a pitiful case of savagery in the eyes of other unions; yet when Gathlinka invaded the small city of Hyempa the entire planet ignited in an uproar. This led to the swift changing of the tide in the war. The city of Spirûlla, lead by the general known as Mentor, launched a siege of Gathlinka that lasted for twelve sectors. At last, Mentor and his army decided to offer terms within the city walls. Once within, the army of Spirûlla quickly destroyed the city's military and achieved complete surprise. The mayor of Gathlinka soon offered unconditional surrender.

         At any rate, Fortis made his way to the space port in the northeast quadrant of the city. He was processed through the several, regular procedures of traveling outside the city; one such procedure included tracing his ancestry back seventy generations. As he boarded his transport, he was asked by a hooded man beside the door-latch, "By which road do you take to Gathlinka?" And to which Fortis answered by drawing a circle upon his right hand with his left ring-finger. According to the news of the day, there were several large, underground networks of travelers between the two cities and the location of the path is determined by hand motions. The hooded man nodded his head and turned slowly--stopped midway--and then walked onwards into the terminal.

         As Fortis strapped himself in, the countdown began: TEN. He finished strapping himself, and quickly thought of his destination. NINE. After landing, he must infiltrate the military regions of the city, and establish a rough-head count. EIGHT. Then he would have to alert the air defenses of Klatwa to his completion of the mission. SEVEN. He thought of the gods, and prayed hard for their support. SIX. Quietly he hummed the anthem of the Colonies. FIVE. His humming gave way to singing as he longed to see his family again, mother and father, brothers and sisters alike. FOUR. His singing became accompanied by tears as he recalled fighting in the first war, and the loss of his children rushed forth. THREE. The transport began to shake and rattle seemingly uncontrollably. TWO. He breathed a long breath. ONE. He was off.

         As chance would have it, the evening lights began to shine early--even before the senior sun sank beneath the world. The last time this happened Lord Atlantius was born after the fall of his city. It is believed that the lights only shine early when the servants of the gods, who are proclaimed the Elquoi, birth offspring. Fortis--out of drilled habit mostly--gave blessings to the newborn child, if indeed there was one at all. A comet was faintly hanging on the far side of the dome; and meteors blasted overhead--a handful a minute.

         He fell asleep as the flying dragged on. The transports move very slowly and fly at vast altitudes, so high as to almost disturb the firmament. The strings began to settle into the trees as the stars came out of their blanket above and hummed softly. A comet was faintly hanging on the far side of the dome; and meteors blasted overhead--a handful a minute. The subtle vibrating of the transport sent Fortis to dream of flying alone, unaided, amidst the firmament, among the stars. As he approached each star, he was gently greeted by the denizens held in its grasp. A billion peoples he met in barely an instant. The nebulae flung their arms out like dancers in a ball, graceful like the women there, intimidating the domed ballroom, cold like death. As Fortis floated out in the blackness the stars began to shake violently and like ripples in the pond, dissolved into an awakened image of a brilliant sunrise and a colossal, sprawling metropolis--Gathlinka. . .

To be continued. . .

Fortis landed on the outskirts of the city's jurisdiction. He made his way casually to the city entrance. And after several hours, the gates came to dominate his sight. The gates to the urban abode were unmistakably magnificent. At the height of fifty men and the width of twenty and a hundred, these doors to the unknown are perhaps the most antiquated objects ever seen by Fortis. These gates bore the old marks of seiges and battering rams--the lower region of the right gate was rounded by the end of a ram--and were known to be of the hardest of ores, able to withstand the toughest bombardments. If it weren't for the laziness of the guards, he would have been barred from entry. After passing into the city, his eyes were beheld by the most peculiar, and haunting city inhabited by Man.

The gates opened into a vast courtyard of stone, with people scattered about it--some sitting, others standing, a few running, most walking--and so vast was this courtyard, it seemed eternal. And except for several isolated statues, the only structure here was a lofty pyramid. Constructed in seven steps, each representing the ages of the planet, it was a strangely organic building: it seemed to breathe. The first level was made of a random assortment of volcanic rocks; the second, layered slate. The third level was constructed of petrified wood and the fourth was built of blocked stone and mudbricks. The fifth was made of concrete; the sixth was formed in the way of the old metals--bronze, brass, iron, copper. And the seventh level was made of the strongest materials--alloys, minerals, biological compounds.