The roots of being
Pogis slept deeply. The journey had taken its toll and he needed the rest. In his Earth form he had become almost indistinguishable from the rock he was lying on. The marine iguanas paid him no heed. They scurried over him when they needed to and several rested on his shoulders. For the most part, they were as still as Pogis, taking a well-deserved rest after their long dives to feed. Up above, blue footed boobies, frigate birds and albatrosses made their way to their mating and nesting sites.
It was midday. The sun hung high in the sky. Slowly, Pogis returned to consciousness. He was reluctant to stir. The 3 million year old island he was lying on had soothed him with its deep thrum. However, he was eager to meet more of its inhabitants. He gently prodded his resting companions from his shoulders and with a bit of effort righted himself.
It was midday. The sun hung high in the sky. Slowly, Pogis returned to consciousness. He was reluctant to stir. The 3 million year old island he was lying on had soothed him with its deep thrum. However, he was eager to meet more of its inhabitants. He gently prodded his resting companions from his shoulders and with a bit of effort righted himself.
‘Lifeseeking requires patience. Adaptation needs time. Move too quickly, explore too excitedly and you may be perceived as a foreign body. The reaction of the host planet could be severe’. These were the teachings Rygell gave him in the rare moments when she was being solemn and serious. She would sit him down, and with a grave look on her face, teach him about the perils of lifeseeking. Although these sessions were infrequent, they had been deeply engraved into Pogis’ mind. Something about the way Rygell transformed into a totally different person for these teachings had made them remain unforgettable.
Consequently Pogis refrained from switching to his Wind form, although he yearned to join the sky-dwellers. It was too unpredictable. He could feel the competing winds that blew above the islands even in his Earth form. He needed to get to know the land better before he ventured into the sky. That left but one option: he would make his way inland.
After treading the rocks for some time, his feet found soft sand. He passed a den of snakes eyeing the lizards on the rocks. He thought to warn his erstwhile companions, but he knew better. He should not intrude on the balance of an ecosystem. This was the way of life everywhere. When the soft sand ended, his feet found shrubs and undergrowth and they were pleased by the lushness of the plant life. Insects and smaller birds caught his attention now and the play of dappling sunlight on the greenery. Strangely enough, he noticed that all the flowers seemed to be shades of yellow or white. He had a passing thought about the main pollinators of the island, the colours they perceive and how this could be explained through natural selection but something else had grabbed his attention. Someone or something was pulling him further inland. Something that felt like the core of these islands, their embodiment.
He kept moving forward and his feet finally met with the forest floor. He only briefly paused to wonder at the strange trees surrounding him. They seemed to be relatives of a common flower. He scarcely paid attention to the beckoning cave openings that punctured the land and the intertwining tunnels they led to, tunnels carved by the lava flow of the distant past. That these were entryways to subterranean ecosystems, that these must bear very close resemblance to the ones on his home planet, barely registered on his distracted mind. He gave little notice to the odd fact that there seemed to be no traces of any large forest-dwelling predators. The forest seemed to be unscarred by any such presence. He was drawn inwards and inwards, further and further, until at last he almost bumped into the source of his distraction.
Languidly making its way through the vegetation towards him, there was a shell-backed reptile, similar to the one he had seen in the waters. Yet this one was gigantic! The top of its shell almost reached his chest and he guessed that it must weigh at least twice as much as its sea-dwelling relative. Its anatomy was also clearly suited to the land. Unperturbed by his sudden appearance, the creature turned around to face Pogis. It looked at him as if it had been waiting for him this whole time, patiently and calmly. Perplexed by this welcome, Pogis stayed fixed to the spot. He sensed no animosity from the creature. In contrast, it felt as if it was inviting him closer. Gingerly he moved towards it. The giant reptile kept its gaze on him but did not seem disturbed by his movement. Pogis was now a hand’s breadth away from it. The creature still looked at him with the same patient, calm gaze. With as much grace as he could muster, Pogis knelt down, bringing himself at eye level with the creature. Before he could wonder at the strangeness of this, the creature slowly nodded its head forward to touch with Pogis’ forehead.
With a silent nudge from the creature, Pogis opened himself up to it. The outside world slowly receded. Through slow-moving images and wordless symbols he saw the history of the islands. He understood how ancestors of this creature had crossed the oceans from far away continents to get here. He felt how other forms of life had also accomplished the same journey with their own means. He experienced the deep connections tying them all together. The creature took its time conveying all this, as it had no language but only a wisdom rooted in being. Its feelings were ancient yet vibrant. It was part of this world and the word spoke through it.
As time eroded in communion, Pogis felt a slight unease. He could not tell if it was his or the creature’s, he could no longer distinguish the boundaries that separated them, yet this feeling felt familiar, like it was his own. It was a sense of imbalance, of something not being right. As the unease kept growing, the structure of the outside world gradually rebuilt itself. As Pogis kept pondering this, the boundaries between them were also gradually restored. The giant shell-backed reptile then slowly broke contact and without further ado plodded on into the forest. Pogis still in a daze, looked at it go.
A sense of imbalance. Something was not right. This was why he was here. His concentration sharpened. He now noticed that there were plants that felt foreign to the forest. As he walked, he now observed birds that seemed to be disharmonious with the whole. He strained his ears and heard a sound that did not seem to belong in this verdant landscape. A humdrum, a commotion, jarring and dissonant. As he moved towards its direction, he saw the trees thinning out and passageways that could not have been made by any of the island dwellers he had met so far. There was intelligence involved here. Self-reflecting consciousness. Sentient beings that could separate themselves from nature through abstraction.
Everything he had ever been taught warned against it. You must never communicate. You must never interact. It was one of the main tenets of lifeseeking. Higher forms of intelligent life must be left to their own devices. Higher forms of intelligent life rarely reacted well to each other. But he had no ship and no possible way to leave this planet. What’s more the feeling of wrongness he had felt back home had been reawakened in him after his encounter with the creature. With resolve, he set forward.
There was nothing to do but go meet with the beings responsible for this planet.