Star Diary

”Star Diary”

  A short story collection by Andreas Ingo

  Copyright Andreas Ingo 2013

  Books written by Andreas Ingo can be obtained either through the author’s official blog:

  The zone of free will

  or through select, online book retailers.

  ”Aquatica”

  The tale of Mandal Ascension

  Nimrod-3, the light gray working machine, with outstretched arms, twelve feet long and five feet wide, moved majestically over the chlorophyll rich grass. It was a futuristic model, built in pieces. There was a driver’s seat, where you could see the driver Mandal Ascension, imprisoned under an arched pane of glass. He gazed dreamily out on the workplace, where the machine's rotary tool equipped with knife edges, got the grass to rave under high pressure.

  That was on the mini planet Aquatica, some highly paid colony reformer’s wet dream. A sphere-shaped structure that measured five hundred meters in diameter: Composed of eight smaller parts, which divided the globe in a section in the middle, and two cuts in each of the two halves that built the body of the globe. It hovered in a geostationary orbit around the sea dominated planet Aqua-6: A celestial body that was half as big as Earth, and located in a solar system fifty light years away.

  The day had come and the variable sun, which almost always shone with a hint of blue, was able to give life to the paradise-like surroundings on Aquatica. It was a park-like swagger build, where colonial reformers invited guests and seduced many women. When Mandal Ascension traveled across the lawns, it was like he lost perspective on time and space. He was completely up in the role as the cosmic caretaker. Alone, with no time to spend on entertainment and other diversions, he was only faced with the task: to nurture and develop the beauty of the amazing plants that thrived on the mini planet.

  The working machine Nimrod-3 was not only meant for bigger jobs. It had internal space in an upper level where there was a connection device. Here Mandal used two remote-controlled robots. These were mounted on the front of the machine, in cavities. These resembled graves of the dead, designs in lightweight metal. The robots would rise from the cavities when they were revitalized by Mandal’s consciousness.

  In the lower level there were Mandal’s office, his sleeping area, shower and toilet.

  The day turned to afternoon when Mandal was finished with the overall workload. He stopped the working machine, looked out at the blue silhouette of Aqua-6, which rose above the oval horizon like a giant dome. There were islands in the blue sea. These had the color of golden brown, structures in light gray also marked futuristic cities.

  Mandal went down from the cockpit. He used the precision cut aluminum ladder, a work of automated factories. The upper floor of Nimrod-3 was a room for a traveler on a journey between two worlds: The inner world of Nimrod-3, with the sparse furnished interior, polished and fresh smelling, and the external world in the well-kept park. He sat down in the inclined link chair, molded as a futuristic statue with a seat of polished leather, lowered the connection link and activated.

  The robot awoke from its unconscious slumber. Mandal tested the coordination of the gleaming arms. These had the color of aluminum, not mounted in a piece, but consisting of three tubes with joints. The hands could be replaced with different tools. There was a cutting tool for processing plants, a marvel of metal with sharp edges. Additionally, there was a spreader from an earlier century, a spreader that could be connected to a water supply, laced with nutrition.

  The robot stood up, used a ladder and stepped down on the grass. It went out over the precision cut grass, descended on the artificial ground and inspected the day's work. The grass was still alive, just as green and full of chlorophyll as usual. The length of the grass measured three centimeters. None of this surprised Mandal. He proceeded towards the perimeter of the lawn. Here bright green plants were seen, high as ferns, arranged in an artistic way. There were red trees also, at times, like palm trees with elongated leaves. The green plants reminded of Aloe Plants. Light yellow portions, like folded wings of dragons, appeared on the curled leaves. The red palm trees were even more beautiful. They leaned, as a doomed lover at gate of his future wife. Darker grains appeared on the leaves and in some areas red tinted to violet.

  The robot went over the artificial surface of the planet. Gravitation was generated from a special apparatus in the planet's center, it was working satisfactory and the walk was normal. The robot came to a small pond that was near a domed hill. A boardwalk was leading out to the center of the pond; this was a small island, dug in precision for maximum affect value. The surface of the water didn’t ripple but reflected the silhouette of Aqua-6.

  There was a small gazebo on the island. This was built with futuristic dimensions: Windows similar to square triangles, outer expansions that formed patterns completely impractical but sensuous to the eye. It was an upper ring at the gazebo, which formed a semi-circle overlooking the lake. Mandal opened a door and walked into the gazebo. He went up to a vase that stood on a table and inspected the plant in the vase. It was a yellow plant, similar to a rose, with pink outgrowths. The outgrowths formed tentacle-like waveforms in the afternoon light and seemed almost to move when touched. Mandal noticed that the plant needed water. He lifted the plant out of the vase, took the vase to the pond and filled it with water, and then put the plant in the vase again.

  The rest of the day passed in a haze of work and full absorption. Mandal inspected everything he could in the park. Sometimes he changed one plant to another: Watered a little with the spreader, pruning overgrown trees with the cutting tool, then he dug into the earth with the hand. Finally, he got tired and was ready for bed.

  The sleeping alcove was like made for a little man. Mandal was born with a rich genetic inheritance, but was still very pale in the face. The face was different. It was narrower, more pointed. The eyes were larger and darker. The wrinkles that formed faint insinuations around the eyes, nose and mouth, made the man feel alive. His face was like something forgotten and old yet new. A hint of the animal kingdom, but mechanized, a mix between the androids from the twenty-first century and the cats from the past. When he lay down on his side, and looked into the study, he was really happy. The workroom was full of seedlings in all manner of colors, and the walls were decorated with shining posters. The sheet was colored in silver; it was soft as silk, cool and caressed his body.

  Soon, he fell asleep.

  * * *

  The following day faded into the variable light from the star. Mandal’s aide wandered over the mini planet’s surface and inspected the plants at the South Pole. Going over the equator, continuing three hundred meters over the sphere and end up in a new angle, was an experience beyond time and space: The blue light from the sea, which reflected the light of the variable, was like fading reality on a new frequency.

  Mandal was at the South Pole and continued forward, the blue light faded away and was replaced by a silent emptiness, not inky darkness, rather dusk. He noticed that the lights had been lit. It was red and blue lights that threw showers of photons against a jungle of plants, fenced. A walking path of stone slabs was prepared by architectural masters, Mandal made small adjustments.

  Suddenly he stopped.

  At a particular location, on the edge of the decorative jungle, a section of cobblestones was knocked aside. In sheer terror Mandal watched his greatest fear: Someone had torn up trees and bushes of the ground, raked and left nothing on the spot. The section was not ugly in any sense: The whole spot was a perpendicular surface, not a blade of grass was left. The soil was raked almost mechanically, with precision by an intruder who must have had the same profession.

  Mandal wondered if this was an ordered job. Someone must have arrived during the night and made a planned interventi
on. Perhaps the colonial reformers had a new wish and hired someone who did the job? But this seemed highly unlikely. They had hired Mandal to take care of everything. The garden was Mandal’s specialty, his calling and masterpiece. He had signed a contract that gave him authority over everything: This to give the colonial reformers a reliable hand, someone who did more than was required. The maintenance of the garden was more than a job, a task that was about transcendence, and that reflected the beauty of Mandal’s being.

  Mandal contacted his employers and was met with anger and skepticism. No one had used anyone for a sudden intervention. Moreover, they would not come to visit for many months. It was now up to Mandal to find and isolate the intruder: Use the weapons in the working machine and kill those responsible, if necessary.

  Mandal continued to Nimrod-3 and took out the weapons from the gun cabinet. One of these was a plasma-based "Exploder" with a homing mechanism. The gun fired a green plasma, which was looking for organic and mechanical abnormalities and exploded on contact. The other weapon was a beam based automatic weapon, which fired green rays, very effective in close combat.

  Mandal decided to scan all areas on the mini planet. The intruder could be lost. There might even be more of them, waiting for him, so he would look with great caution.

  * * *

  He approached the dwelling house with a feeling of exhaustion. All day he’d searched through the various sections of the mini planet. He’d lost himself in gardens, overgrown by trees with multiple trunks; in winding bushes that looked out towards the walkways. There were plenty of absurdities: A small shrub, bioengineered like the others, full of brown cones. Sprawling scales could be observed over the cones surface. But they reminded a bit of Aquatica: Divided into two halves, an admittedly with smaller diameter and a lower one with larger diameter. There were also a number of gazebos he had visited the day before. He had walked, he had sneaked, and he had given up hope of finding the intruder. Now the only thing that remained was the dwelling house.

  This was the glory of the mini planet: It was light gray as the gazebos, but it was significantly larger and built in sections. Thoughts came about the Roman mansions from Roman times, but it was not an old-fashioned design. It was cylindrical units that surrounded a rectangular inner sphere, where a rectangular build could be observed in its futuristic splendor. You could see the grand staircase that led up to the inner slot. Nothing had been left to chance: the larger forms were decorated with extensions from the era that existed, year 2153, one hundred and fifty years into the future.

  Mandal went up the stairs. He put down his exploder and took a firm grip on the ray gun. He was left to his fate. A solo artist in a universe filled with corruption and enmity. Man lived on man, young on old, and the only thing that remained was the struggle for transcendence: To reach the unreachable with limited means.

  The door opened to the courtyard. He was now standing in a place that spurred the imagination: The rounding of the outer cylinders was palpable, but through extensions, like bridges without railings, these cylinders were connected to the rectangular structure in the courtyard. Blue sheeting hung from the extensions. They had green rings with embellishments. Thoughts came on the chlorophyll rich grass and the bushes in the outskirts of the lawn.

  Mandal didn’t go into the rectangular building, but went around it. He saw climbers who were looking up the walls. In a rectangular window, he could discern pink curtains: Pleated, full of shadows and light.

  Suddenly he saw the intruder: Near the far corner, he stood bent, digging with a tool in a garden plot. Mandal raised his weapon, took a few steps closer, fired at the enemy and hid behind the corner of the building. The heart rate rose in his chest. He glanced back toward the garden plot but no shape appeared. Mandal was puzzled. Had the enemy sought shelter behind the corner, waiting for him? Or had he gone around the corner and would surprise him from the other side?

  Mandal gripped convulsively round the gun and crept forward. Shadows were thrown against the interior walls, from the middle portion between the apertures in the outer wall. The gravel under his feet was newly raked.

  When he came to the garden plot no enemy could be seen. He waited a long time at the scene, worried that the intruder had entered the dwelling house and waited there: Like a ghost that hovered in the windows on the inside the building, between the curtains.

  The garden plot was yet another surprise: The thing that happened in the garden had also happened in the garden plot: All herbaceous plants had been uprooted. There remained only the pure soil raked over with expert-like precision.

  Mandal was worried. He was afraid of the reactions from the employers, but also afraid of the total failure: To lose his garden, the mini planet and all his life.

  The last day turned into an intensive search. He picked up the exploder and moved over Aquatica’s garden groves, terrified. He was looking at gazebos and streams. He walked up stairs where he could see the outline of vegetated hills. On the shores of small lakes he looked for footprints in the care fatted ground. But no intruder could be seen.

  The day turned into night.

  He found himself standing at the portion where the northern half of Aquatica turned to the south. He stood between two walls, illuminated by faint light that painted patterns on light gray walls. A staircase led to the southern direction, another to the north. A walkway a few meters away led to the interior of the mini planet. Mandal hesitated. The robot looked up into the sky and saw the huge outline of Aqua-6. The dark sphere made an undoubted impression of Mandal’s consciousness: He saw the cities on the islands, surrounded by water, illuminated by a gigantic network of light. Shooting pains along Mandal’s spine caused him to shiver, while he lay in the connection room. Was the intruder in there? Down in the walkway, somewhere in the interior of the mini planet?

  Mandal decided to return to Nimrod-3 and resume the search the next day.

  * * *

  At dawn the first rays of light appeared at the working machine. Mandal hadn’t slept well during the night. He’d dreamed nightmares about the unknown intruder. He’d been too far away to be discernible at the moment of contact. But he’d leaned forward, toward the garden plot; the back had been seen on the figure. It was something that resembled a small unit on the back; a tool that was aimed at the garden plot, tubes were stretched across the shoulder blades.

  It was a human figure, but he was slightly longer.

  Mandal went to the bathroom and then to the upper floor of the working machine. He looked out the windows, being careful to keep track of the weapons. The atmosphere in Nimrod-3 was something of an electrified future: There were various panels along the right wall. The link chair was an unusual shape: As an alien control station, complete with the characteristic practicalities: A two-dimensional display, resplendent in green and yellow letters. Cables for electronic circuits. Calibration equipment in black, which made the connection possible to different workers.

  There was an oval table in the rear end of the machine: An oval shape which was also cut with an ingenious cavity, for aesthetic value. Mandal sat down at the table and drank an energy drink. He looked alternately through the rear window, sometimes on the gun by his side. The scenario that he saw was painted in colorful shades: The intruder who was shot, the intruder who fell, the bandage that was wrapped around his own wounds. The truth that was revealed later: The image of himself in the global ether.

  He was getting ready for the attack. He sat down in the link chair. The robot was activated. It went down the stairs, across the grass and up to the entrance of the machine. The door opened and the shape stood still in the opening, as a living hero, illuminated by the light of dawn: Mandal came to his senses.

  The robot retrieved the weapons.

  * * *

  The morning passed slowly until morning. Mandal’s second I walked effortlessly over the arched landscape. He passed the place where the first discovery had surprised him earlier.

  Mandal saw something and w
as astounded.

  There, in the same place as before, plants sprouted from the earth. These plants resembled nothing he’d previously seen: It was a kind of bushes, full grown in a very delicious, yet scary way. There were bushes taken from a futuristic tale: Blade, oblong and sinister, blood-red with dark veining. There were flowers in violet, delicate, beautiful, but with an excrescence resembling a scorpion. Tucked away in the bushes, you could see something that looked like a dragon: An outgrowth, full of nutrition and vitality, a flower in full that sprayed flames of fire.

  Mandal was amazed, excited and surprised. The intruder was beyond mysterious: A man standing outside time and space, making small adjustments whenever he wanted, changing everything for the better?

  He activated a camera and photographed the flower. Then he walked the mile-long route back to the working machine, went up the ladder and stood corrected. Mandal broke the connection and returned to the interior of the machine.

  He stood up and walked down to the workroom. He was met by the green plants; experiments not yet finished. He was about to improve parts of the garden: Infuse life into dead batches, bringing the unknown into boring sections.

  But now he was very fascinated.

  He sat down at the desk, where there was a computer and a large two-dimensional screen. He downloaded the photograph from the robot and enlarged it on the screen. It was a transformative experience of something new: A biological version of the Chinese dragon. This was not harmless in its luster: It had scales and horns, streaks of color along its coiled body.

  And then the fire.

  Mandal returned to the link chair and connected to the robot. He walked along the flowering trails, hastily, to the dwelling house.

  When he arrived at the scene, he saw that the same thing had happened at the garden plot: A kind of flowers had sprung out of the earth. They had green stems, separated by a sort of whirling moss. The moss was growing halfway up the stems and gave force to the flowers. The shapes of the petals had the semblance of black insects: Beetles from a time after the death of nature: Experiments from a gene-manipulated future, where everything was possible.