AFTERWARS  is a story that has not been told yet, this is the beginning……

The Arrival

        The universe is full of stars some brighter than others, some more massive but only one that we know shines on life.

Before even stars there was only gas, over eons of time heat gave birth to the stars.  The stars in turn gave birth through fusion, to all the rest of the elements needed to build the universe as we now know it.  Still, as far as we know only around one star is there life able to perceive the eons of time it took to build everything.  Human beings are the pinnacle of the capability of life to be able to understand life.  Over time man developed to the point, space was the only place left to explore in effort to understand life.

        We children are the descendants of those sent into outer space to learn as much as we possibly can in an effort to pay our respects to the river of time which has lead us here.  For once, there were those people that did not concern them selves to learn.

Those that would, by with holding knowledge, oppress others more ignorant than they. Expending every effort, even to the lengths of killing, to maintain power and rule by fear.

Each of us choose to be that which comes natural to us, for we are able to follow our educational intuition as we feel.  Once, the structure of society that man lived under allowed only conformity.  The educational system of such a society does not allow individual intuition guide ones education. Rather, a structured and rigid maze with one set path.  At the cost of nothing less than the truth, societies all over our world began to take advantage of the ignorance poisoned populations.

Gathering opposing masses of people together for the express purpose of exterminating one another, we call this war, masses of man suffered and died for centuries fighting wars for every reason they could think of.

        Eventually remembering what their primitive brothers had learned long ago, we are all one.  All united and after many prosperous years, sent us into space to learn.  You children are descendant from those first sent out into the universe, and now after losing contact, we have returned to the planet which we left so many years ago, afterwars.

The Warrior Poets

Finding in the orbit of the earth only misshapen forms of satellites and space stations, the only course of action to make contact is left to, sending someone to the surface.

Who shall be sent?

The only choice is a warrior poet.

No, we send scientists.

There can be only one, the risk of sending two is losing two. The scientist will be sent after the poet, for the warrior poet class is most capable of dealing with unknown and unforeseeable events, relying on their reflexes rather than making plans.  After we discover a safe place to shuttle more, we will send all those we need into a safe environment.

The decision being made, the oldest of the warrior poets, an example of the finest poets made ready.  Learning that people have inside of them the capability of both love and war, the warrior poet has been the path chosen by those that can, know how to hate what they love.  Those able to cast off concern for them selves for the concern of another.

For in truth we have learned to use war to protect, not to destroy.

                                              The Suits

Even the oldest of the warrior poets had forgotten his age.  With technology able to sustain biological bodies indefinitely as well as enhance them significantly.   The old poet knew no pains of age.  The suits are able to with stand any atmosphere, any temperature, and require only movement to maintain power.  The oldest poet wore the oldest suit, specially designed and redesigned with the progress of technology.  The warrior had become so much a part of his suit all the enhancements the suit offered like flying, and breathing any were had become as thoughtless as walking.

Free to fear no change in ones atmosphere grants one all the freedoms man has ever desired.  Truly any one can do anything they want to.

In such a society it is pointless to try to overpower any one, and everyone is free to share to learn instead of fight to win.  It was with this spirit the oldest of the warrior poets began to prepare to discover the undiscovered.

                                                                    The Earth

Once prepared it was only a short flight in a drop ship to get to the surface of the earth.

Upon arrival the warrior poets primary task is to establish the safety of further expeditions, by assessing the climate as well the inhabitants.

        There was nothing abnormal traveling through the atmosphere. Once past the cloud banks instead of the cloud cities he was expecting, a scarred an unfamiliar land scape revealed itself to the lone pilot.

To his astonishment a landscape of hellish fires and scorched earth slowly began to become visible through a haze of glowing smoke columns.  There was no trace of the grand floating cities and sky ways which the people had built to give more space to population and to leave more land to the animals of the world.

Staring in disbelief the pilot forgot about flying and was wrenched back into the cockpit by an alarm warning of a radar contact closing on his position.

The speed at which it approached indicated it was a projectile, rather than another aircraft.

Raising the shields of his vessel, the pilot became confused even more with the events he had flown into.  Any solid projectile had little chance of damaging the dropship with it’s shields up.

Solid projectiles had become obsolete ages ago, what was happening here on earth?!

Feeling a need to discover the answer covertly the pilot altered course towards the pole.

Contacting the ship, the pilot informed his crew that it was not yet safe to send others and that he did not know why?……Yet.

                                                         The Landing

Regaining altitude the short flight to the pole proved to be worth while, as there seemed no signs of habitation or war.  He set his controls to hover at one thousand feet, suited up and stepped out of the hatch.  Enjoying a moment of free fall before engaging his suits laser trusters, he touched down on solid ice as light as a snow flake.  His organic mind was just about to move his mechanical body forward when he froze, overcome by hesitation.  He did not know which direction to go.  His first instinct was to track down what ever had shot at him, now in the frozen air under a crystal blue sky dotted with cotton ball clouds he realigned himself with the tranquil chaos of the universe and knelt down in the snow and thought.

                                                   The Poets Past

He began in the moment, concentrating on his surroundings.  The crisp air, distant waves, and slight breeze.  Then expanding his mental picture to include first the ice cap on which he rested, then the ocean around them, all the animals on the ice, in the sky and under the water.  The other continents and there vast plains, dust blown deserts, deep forests, and dark jungles along with immense ranges of mountains scraping the sky all became clear in his mind eye.  He drifted to his space ship home and all of his companions onboard and then time began to slip away and all moved backwards.

Seeing through his memories eyes, visions of his perception of the thread of time he had traveled along focused and faded into eachother.  Everything experienced in space streamed through his thoughts, a current of synapses connected the circuits of history back past the launch from space station EARTH II and he saw the world as it was when he left it.  The view from space of the darkside of earth speckled with the light of civilization, the sun breaking the horizon and the pure blue of the oceans made him smile with his eyes closed kneeling in the gusting arctic wind.  His thoughts descended into the atmosphere and over grand sky cities floating over the cloud banks under translucent air filled artificial clouds, glowing from heaters illuminating their skin like giant floating jelly fish with skyscrapers and superstructure suspend in tentacles.

Before allowing himself to the land he was born of, floating above the earth, he allowed himself a moment to let his mind fly across the great green planet still spiked with the towers of human habitation, but it was the vast wilderness teaming with herbivores and predators backed by breathtaking scenery that made him pause in time, filled with gratitude in awareness of the chain of evolution that allowed life to see all of its history in his species.  Taking a breath before drifting his thoughts into the city, a forest of the wonders of human adaptation surrounded him.  Instantly he found in his mind all of his earthly friends and neighbors, reminiscing times shared and time alone, feeling happy and being sad, excitements of love and success in a time before the cities hung from jellyfish clouds.

He was finally home, in a city still firmly rooted in bedrock.

This was a time before the end of war and the poets entire body tensed and shuddered as he remembered WAR.

                                                           The Last War

He remembered war as a child seemed as common and normal for adults as any other business.  There were the soldiers, the workers and the suits, the children imitated all in their play, but mostly they pretended killing eachother.  The poets father, he was a worker, and when asked of war replied  ” We fight for freedom, While others fight for power.  We as a people should be governed by the majority, it is called democracy.  Democracy is an ancient greek word best translated by a man called Abraham Lincoln who said ” A government of the people, by the people, for the people.”  Some times we forget the way we should live and fall into minority rule.  We let a small group of people so rich they are detached from the people govern the peoples lives. The people aspire to be like them, pretend to be rich too, and desire to detach from their neighbors placing value on dollars instead of sense.  People begin to lust for power and money so much they are willing to kill for both not realizing there are only so many of us and a ruler sitting on a throne of blood has no subjects to rule.  There are times aswell! that we do remember as a people how to live as people.  When leaders rule with love people will fight to the end with a faith for a better world and in that world there is no war my son.”  The poet asked his father to teach him his trade.  As he learned and lived he could see all around him how people misplaced successes with money and separated them selves accordingly.

………to be continued….

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