Songs of the future

Aug 4, 2021 muse life

Songs of the futre - Part 1

The Stranger

- And the people were lost by the river, and songs were sung to guide them home.

“Do you speak the truth?”

“I say the notes, the notes fail to stutter.”

“Then you be lyrical, truth must be sound and not song.”

“But the song is distant and pure, therefore I do not lie.”

“Mentioned and taken stranger, mentioned and taken.”

“May I go then? I am weary from the steps.”

“Pass and be done.”

Each step taken as a leaded weight, one front of the other and back foot brought forward the stranger entered the tunnel. The track of pitted iron guided him through the maze of sanctuary, never once letting its fare wander or giving rise to loss. To his eyes the tunnel was smooth and never ending, gloss upon gloss and a dozen ages of use made the smooth no lie yet the tunnel did end.

A stagger backwards was taken before the door was seen. He raised a hand to push against the dark brown metal, on touching the door it opened and he stepped into the shaft. The voice was cold and clear yet soft, a woman’s, probably long dead as all in sanctuary.

“Scanned and logged. For your own safety please hold the rail.”

The bar slid silently out of the wall, instinct not comprehension making the stranger grasp hard. “Cold wood, won’t burn.” He mumbled to the air as a sudden rush of wind forced his words back within.

“Level one, main habitat.”

“No song.”

“Level two, engineering.”

“Do you sing?”

“Level three, way-station. Please disembark”

“You are not truth” The stranger stood proud, aware of the difference yet not comprehending the how or the why.

The door slid open and despite his unknowing he disembarked.

Facing the new path the stranger studied the details. He was well past the common age and if ever challenged on his years he would always reply the same. “I look for the details, always the details. A path well trodden, a waterhole fairly used, a meal taken after others. Always the details.” He had passed his father and those brought to time around him, he lasted over the bairns of the same timers and offered his details to others in kindness but of course kindness is never taken.

He looked down the path. The dark walls of granite and smooth rock replaced with off white unnatural. A perfect curve ending on either side of the gangway, metal grilled with the sound of running water underneath. Lights embedded into the walls took his attention. Without fear the stranger placed his hand gently on the clear panel, the heat of the electrical lamp warming his palm but not burning. The carbon filaments not even touching their half life as the safety programme maintained heat and light to optimum factors. Fibre optic cables embedded and sealed within the walls constantly relaying all details to the main core deep within the Cheyenne mountain range. If the stranger had known the magic of computers and high logic then he would have smiled at the details logged and tracked, but understanding would have been lost. Computers, programming, software, nuclear cells and generation technology would have been words and words didn’t have notes. They wouldn’t have song and so they were useless to him. The standing guard however he understood. The homemade stock and its purpose was plain, you entered when he said so. This was song, this was truth, and this the stranger understood.

The guard stood silent at the large iron door, hand on stock and eye on the stranger. “Speak the truth and passage will be given” The words simple and common. The stranger walked forwards uttering the common song.

“The song is truth, the notes of the song ring true”

“Which song do you speak?”

“There is only one song, one truth. To be more would be lies and not song”

“Pass and be done”

The stranger passed through the door, content with his answers and smiling at the song. A thought occupied his mind, the girl. The girl that became his side and bore him bairns of his own, all gone now, all passed as everyone else was passed. She had a name but the name was distant, many years gone and all but forgotten. He remembered the girls face, her scars and her water. He remembered her love and her death, all the same now. He looked up at the stars and the girl faded from memory once more. As she faded he cried for he knew that this was the last time yet he didn’t now why.

“Stand and prepare.” The echo of a woman gone in years past streamed into his ear once more.

“You still don’t sing” The stranger said with emotion

“Stand and prepare”

“Sing?”

“Please follow the yellow lights, stand and prepare”

“Who are you?” The stranger looked about the room, uncomfortable with his own words. Words made speech and speech was not song, yet he spoke the words. A flicker of thought passed through his mind once again, another question: “Who am I?”

“I am transportation module 91243, you are requested traveller. Stand and prepare”

“Are you truth?” The stranger stepped forward following the small blinking lights that led to the illuminated circle.

If the program responded he didn’t hear. Within a moment his body flickered, digitized and vanished. He looked around and saw more stars in the heavens than he had managed to figure in all his years. Little did he know that one of the stars was a sun, a sun that had warmed his bones since he was brought to time. A sun now eighty light years distant and a lifetime away from understanding.

Everything above is copyright me, the owner of this blog, Hitch, Vaughan. I who resides in the shell of the named one at this moment in time.