The Skies of cMaj: Volume 2 of 'VESTIGE'

“—they did what?!” Councilor Miriana Housenn Thuall exclaimed over her refurbished comm. Long-gone were the cerebral-comm days of the original Vestige society of that once immense colony of well-over two million citizens. The last generation was of her late-mother’s, Tyra Housenn Sohill, some 70 years ago…when the generational starship’s synthetic humanoids rebelled against the humans and bombed the 20-mile-long ship with just a few scouting ships! It was the remnant nuclear fuel within the ancient sector of the generational ship that had done the Colony in. If it weren’t for the relatively small amount of nuclear substance in the original section of Vestige, the descendants of the starship believed the planet, cMaj, would have had a human population closer to three million at that time instead of the mere-approximate 250 humans…on the entire planet!

“It is correct what you heard, Councilor Housenn Thuall,” Fuegon, the young spy, said. His young face was zip-cast on the Councilor’s hand-held communicator, which utilized cMaj’s sand for photovoltaic glass and nearly rivaled the technology of original Vestige—just without the holographic projections. “The Dominionists Clan was successful in reaching the other side of the planet, ma’am! And Janneca was able to confirm it!”

Councilor Housenn Thuall’s head snapped to the side, apparently needing time to think of the implications of one of the rival Clans making such an historic feat on cMaj! Not since the starship’s bombing some 70 years prior had any human survivor taken flight! Not that the surviving humans on cMaj did not know how to fly—that is, with engineered craft. Indeed, the Three-Clans society of homo sapiens were not “primitive,” they were marooned. The trick was for the humans to either venture several hundreds of miles away to the crash-site of the old Ship and risk nuclear exposure from the Ship’s ruins. Or take possibly a hundred years for the tiny population to re-gain the ability to fly; like their ancient ancestors had done, back in the Sol system, on Earth—thousands of years ago!

Councilor Thuall’s grandchildren were over at her mastaba-hut for the day and were running around outside and trampolining all over her garden! It was the hut Miriana Housenn Thuall had inherited after her mother—the first Councilor of Vestige 2 settlement, Tyra Housenn Sohill—had died. That was about 13 years ago. Right after her mother’s death, the now-dissolved Tribe of Vestige 2 had voted for her eldest child, Miriana, to take her vacant, governing position. Sadly, a few years after that, the Tribe broke up between the natural, cultural fault lines of the three original Clans from the early days after the bombing of Vestige…

So, in addition to worrying about the three, rogue surviving synthetic humanoids having recently achieved flight with remnant-parts from the old ship of Vestige, now the Vestige Clan had to compete against the Dominionists Clan for flight—and based on the new reporting, the Dominionists had beaten the Vestige Clan! The one certain thing that the aging clan Councilor could count on was not worrying about the cMaj Clan achieving flight. For their culture and code of ethics grounded them with the lifestyle of mostly using natural materials within that clan’s natural surroundings.

“Councilor,” young-Fuegon prompted Miriana over the static-prone transmission of her reconstructed comm-device. Apparently, she had gotten lost in her thoughts.

“Let’s be honest, Fuegon; we’ve all known the synths would reach flight at some point, given their advanced abilities compared to us-humans—”

“—Well, they can’t really be all that smart; they’re slowly debilitating, Councilor. Partially because they were stupid enough to fool with all that irradiated materials at the crash-site!”

“True! But the synths are the ones with more influence on this planet than all of us humans, now! Look at us, Fuegon; humans can’t even agree to come together to construct an edifice-of-common during holidays; did you really think any of the Clans stand a chance against the synths? Don’t worry, child, the Dominionists may have reached the other side of cMaj, but it’s a fool’s pursuit without a viable plan for colonizing over there!”

The young man’s face gave a bit of a scoffing look over the comm. “Councilor, with respect, ma’am, you sound resigned to being beaten by the synths and now the Dominionists!”

There was a jab of irritation within the Councilor. She walked several yards away from her frolicking grandchildren in the garden. “Fuegon, just say what’s on your –“

“—It’s on most of our Clan members’ minds, Councilor Housenn Thuall…we cannot afford to take it for granted that cMaj is such a large planet that there is plenty of room for all three Clans and the synths! Most clan members are telling me they want a more robust plan from you, ma’am.”

“What, you mean like a plan to over-run the Dominionists and the cMaj Clans and then we all become one, big happy Tribe like in the old days of my mother? And then we march hundreds of miles to Vestige’s crash-site and start cobbling some kind of vehicle that can fly us all over the planet? While in the meantime, we would begin to get mysterious ailments from the radiation…

“Fuegon, did you think I was joking when I said we, humans, cannot even agree to build a facility for a common use amongst humans! There is no way in stars we’ll be able to do this fantasy you and some of your friends in our Clan want us to do!”

The young man’s face morphed into a steely look. “May I suggest the Councilor also not take for granted her position…there is nothing to say in our Clan’s charter that the position of Councilor is necessarily inherited.”

Councilor Housenn Thuall flinched, as if doused by cold water! “Young man, are you threatening me?”

“Of course not, Councilor…you have my honor as being the torch-bearer of our first Councilor. I’ll report when I have more news…good day, Councilor.”

Miriana did not even bother to respond. She stowed the comm-device into one of her body-wrap’s pockets and went back to be with her grandchildren playing in her garden, smoke coming from the hut’s chimney given it had been cool weather the past week.