Numbers

Natural Instinct

I was once a normal... being, sitting down upon the chairs of my martian brothers, who sat around the large… table of the Ones, my elders. They took us nestlings and told us what to do. Whether we were to work in the mines to gather resources for the colony, or to build up the necessary structures to survive on Red did not matter; we have to obey them. We were to discorporate when we were told to, our needs were not existent. Discorporation was… a common practice. We didn’t see it as sad or heartbreaking…

Our emotions were closed shut. We didn’t have to worry about those bothersome things. They would limit our ability to think and blind us from seeing the whole picture. We didn’t need them. They just needed us as a host of their vile and disturbing desires. We.... we didn’t need to grok them. They were wrong as they stood.

So we… sent them away. There was no more rhyme or reason to keep them in existence. They, who wrongly grokked and were told to discorporate, were shrunk down and disregarded. No more was those who were wrong, their inability to rightly grok kept them back from being like us: Gods. I am God, you are God, they, the elders, are Gods; any object who groks its existence is God. We’re Gods. We…

...are one united being of God.

But God is not he, but is us. We are all God, but share in the title of God.

I am God 115 who resides in the house of the Strong and a nestling who lives with my… elders.

This is my story.

I stand tall, wiping my brow free from the perspiration that of which forms itself upon my forehead. I sigh, letting off the steam of my annoying sticky self. I need to find shade, some water of some sort. I need it.

I rush from my post, merely ignoring the falling lift that crashes to the ground in a heap on the gravel surface. I look back, seeing the cloud of dust and smoke from the resulting ignorance of my ways. i couldn’t be bothered, my break time was shot down after the elders wanted me to do an extra bit of collecting ores upon the surface. I couldn’t… really deal with them at the moment.

I grok my surroundings: the planet’s distinguishable feature of a saturated red hue is not apparent to me. The red hue is just meaningless, floating dust particles. Nothing new here, the red dusty landscape never colliding with our very well-built construct of conflicting elements: a large dome surrounding our peaceful village, shielding us from the harsh elements that this planet brings, and our wondrous utopia of glistening spires, which attempt to escape the dome with their high, metallic designs. We only leave the dome if we need to scout the area for resources, but even then, we rarely need to do that. We grow our sustenance from the confines of our… home. It’s helpful.

After running for a few, I find a generous amount of shade underneath the Tower of Transmission, the beacon of where all of those who belong to the grounds of the Ones with the family names of Strong, Will, and Intelligence would communicate among each other. This tower was created by my forefathers of the Strong who… discorporated after seeing the point of no return arrive. It was… jarring, the point of no return simply slapping them in the face as the reservoirs of our tribe’s water dwindling faster and faster as the days went by. They tried so hard to find a way to reason this downfall, but no way did they grok it. They gave up, their inability to see past the situation and come to an agreement made them agree to discorporate at once. Nothing, not even those who had been born of those who did this could not believe the happening. No warning was given out…

The transmissions were silent.

Thankfully, one elder did not discorporate as he saw that doing this over a matter of water was not worth it; there was much more to grok still on this planet. As a result, the lone elder asked for help from the other houses, creating the transmission tower. We combined houses and brainstormed a way to be able to solve the problem: we traded with the other tribes and built up our reservoir by scouting for a source.

After a while, we found one: a stream that flowed alongside the mountains of the unknown. Thankfully, this source was not guarded by the creatures of the shadows. They would kill us if we tapped into their water sources. Once the connection was made, we drew our water and…

...now I’m using said water as nourishment, drawing it from the fountains of life which protrude from the side of our golden tower of paradise. Hopefully, this water isn’t contaminated from the elder’s unhealthy habits. He likes to use these fountains as spittakers. What is wrong with him?

No matter, I ignore the thought of being contaminated as I sip on the… water.

It was fulfilling…

“115.”

I hear the voice call my name, causing my short water break to momentarily be interrupted by this… elder?

He stood up to my eyes.

We stood up in the shade.

We stood up, glaring at one of the other.

“Elder Razz.”

He looks at me as I uttered his name, eying my appearance of battered clothes and my face covered in soot and dust. “You… finish the work, my nestling?”

I shake my head, much to his knowing chagrin. “My break was never fully realized by the others, so I had to fill in where those who recently discorporated did not.”

“There was discorporation on the site?” the elder says in astonishment. “Didn’t those who were to discorporate were to do so in night hours?”

“Only those who did not want to disobey the law of the land,” I say with precision, remembering the law of our tribes to the T. “We were working when two randomly shrunk down and left; the lift almost collapsed due to their sudden discorporations.”

The elder mutters and grumbles underneath his breath as he brings his glare to a soft expression. “Well, once you are done here, may you bring yourself to complete the task of capturing the ores of life, brother.”

I groan internally, not allowing my calm, unreadable demeanor to be altered. “As you wish, Elder of the Strong.”

He smiles and walks past me, his languid stride showing his rank, his lack of care…

I shake my head. I cannot and will not wrongly grok my advisor, no matter what he does to me. This is not one with rightness would do. I must control this…

I stand still, observing the calm streets of our paradise be absent, clear of any of my brothers. This break shall be cut short, I do not want to be seen as a slacker from my elders, the Ones. They must not think of me as a lowly servant, or I shall have to discorporate early.

I sigh and begin to walk out in the hot weather, the sun beating down on my head. Even though we were far from the light of life, I could not stop perspiration from continuing. The Ones saw this as a problem as no other of my kind did this. They did not get hot, nor did they get cold. They did not do this, yet I look like them.

Am I… sick?

I open the gate to the worksite, shutting it behind me as I continue my train of thought. No, I mustn’t be sick, I must be just different. An epitome of differences, a distinctly different being…

Different.

I come upon the lift.

Maybe I’m just different.

I grip the back end of the lift.

Maybe I’m not them…

I slam it to the upward position, raising the bar higher with the ore containers suspended by the strong pulley system.

Maybe I’m not a nestling.

I move the containers towards the loader, setting them down gently on the truck bed. “Go take her for a spin there, 232!”

Rosland raises his arm and gives me the signal, his wrist twisting in a deformed fashion. “Thanks,” he acknowledges, before speeding away, the containers bouncing around as he travels on the road.

It is time to continue mining. The ores can’t mine themselves…

I… walk into the mine…

...and begin my work.

I need to discorporate.

The bosses won’t find out what happened.

I cannot find a reason not to grok this and be horrified.

There is no way I can fix this without facing the consequences of exile and the removal of discorporation.

I have t-

“God 115!” barked the all-too-familiar elder. “You okay down there?”

I’m so screwed.

“I’m f-fine!” I nervously reply, my voice cracking.

“Well brother, your voice is breaking!” The elder is close. “You do know that means you're nervous?”

Why do the Ones be so smart?

I turn to face my elder. “Yes, but I’m not nervous.”

The elder, now in full view, smiles at me. “I’m glad.”

I nod politely as I stand in front of him, a smile concealing the emotions I’m feeling at the moment. I cannot let him think I did something as bad as I did.

He looks past my form. “Are you… ready to show me your work?”

I reluctantly sigh and let him pass, giving him full passage to the mine. “You shall, brother.”

He smiles and walks passed me, his gait still the same as before, slow and ever-so-short. He stares at the mine, the mess of all messes: my fuck up. The mining equipment all lay in disarray after having a run in with two shadows… they could’ve killed me.

I didn’t want to discorporate.

So, I took my aim and killed one of them with my pickaxe.

We had a law placed that those who chose to kill were told to discorporate, especially if it were for purposes against another of our brothers.

This?

Well, it would’ve been fine if that other shadow did not retaliate by destroyed one of the only pathways left to the ore supply and…

...we don’t have the equipment made to handle this amount of rock.

The elder turns his attention to me and points. “Brother, did you do this?”

I… don’t know what I shall do here.

I shakily sigh and stand beside my superior. “I... I had a bit of a run-in with a pair of shadows God Elder Razz the Strong. I-”

“You mean shadows were in that mine?” His face, full of shock. “How could that have happened?”

I wisely keep my mouth shut.

“Well,” he says outright. “We must get more to help to do this job rightly.” He turns to me, his eyes staring into mine. “You did this wrongly… very wrongly. I’m disappointed.”

My heart drops into the sinking quicksand. “I apologize Elder Razz I-”

“Discorporate.”

“Pardon?”

He clears his throat. “I do not one who is careless and acts upon barbaric impulses to run this mine.” He puts his disced hand on my shoulder. “Brother, you must discorporate in order to help us.”

Helping? I’m going to die! That…

...isn’t right.

“But I can do so mu-”

“If you don’t do it, I must make you discorporate myself,” Elder Razz interrupts. “You do not want that, do you?”

I shake my head. I… am going to die.

I nod and prepare myself. I must will myself to die.

I close off all valves, all entrances to receive the water of life.

In seconds, I stop existing, the darkness of black encompassing my vision.

…

Wait, I’m supposed to be dead.

I open my eyes and look around, the ground is much greener here.

Where am I?

I walk forward, the dark night skies with stars beyond the knowledge I encompass. I… don’t know any of them.

Nor do I know what this village that is in front of me is.

I hide behind a bush, barely peeking my head over it to see if I can find some sort of notification of where I am. I crane my neck around the trees that cover my being. There is only one, small sign that tells me of what this place is, the sign swinging gently in the breeze above the entrance of a fairly large structure.

“Hollow… Shades?”