Planet Eve: The Tale of a Sprout

balance, and his foot. "Curses! A thousand curses!" he said, taking out a long splinter. "Ow! Now tell me, how did you come to be here?"

  And they told him their sad tale:

  While Evol was busy flying from ship to ship, the fighting back home between the Maritanians and the other Sprouts had escalated to such an extent that the rulers of all the remaining countries decided it was time to solve the problem once and for all. To that end, they gathered at the Center once more and agreed upon building a very big ship for all the Maritanians. It was named The Rebel.

  When The Rebel was complete, all the Maritanians were goaded into it, despite their protests (they had been rounded up from all over the Continent). Jackie LeSaint and Fidel Cassavettes were there to personally cut the ropes, and away it sailed, if it could be called sailing: two Flying Ships were slowly towing The Rebel by its single mast out to the middle of the vast open sea.

  The big Flying Ships flapped their majestic wings, gliding gracefully among the clouds, as The Rebel drifted further and further away from land. On the Continent, at the very edge of the sea, all the Land Sprouts waved their arms about happily. The Maritanian Sprouts onboard the Rebel shook their fists at them from the slowly growing distance.

  Having tugged The Rebel out far enough, the two Flying Ships cut their cables and marooned it at sea. The Maritanians were sent off with all the necessary supplies, but were not given any earth in which they could plant and grow their young. No one wanted any more Maritanian Sprouts. Ever. Neither could they jump and swim to shore, for the Sprouts were afraid of water and incapable of swimming. In effect, it was a doomed colony that sailed off on The Rebel.

  "Curses, and more curses!" cried Evol, and was about to stomp his foot again, but thought better of it. "Now what are we to do?"

  "Did you have any luck with the Ships of the Flotilla?" asked one of the Sprouts, and another added, "And what's become of Oslo?"

  "Oslo is a traitor!" Evol said, fuming and grinding his jaws, so that they clicked voraciously as thin strands of smoke escaped from his mouth. "He prefers to live with the Rainbow Sprouts and refused to return with me. If I ever get my tendrils on him… Ahem. No, I didn't have any luck, obviously. There are no true Maritanian Sprouts left on any of those ships anymore, except Father William, and he's an old idiot." Evol glowered for a moment at the tiny ships floating in the distance.

  "All we eat now is raw sunlight," Alphonso complained, and began to cry in earnest, but Evol clicked his jaws so menacingly in his direction that he abruptly stopped.

  "Eating should be our last concern right now," Evol said angrily.

  "I disagree," Alphonso said quietly, and wiped his face.

  It was a dire situation. Even Evol was sad, deep down inside. On the outside, he never showed it, however. Days, then weeks passed, while The Rebel floated forlornly in the middle of the ocean. Sometimes the current would bring it closer to shore, but then the Big Flying Ships would appear to tow it back out again.

  The ships of the Flotilla of Ubrik never came too close, except rarely and only to gawk at them with some amusement. The Maritanians would have very much liked to ask the others for help, or at least something decent to eat, but they were too proud, and shook their fists at them if they laughed. It was a miserable life of pure desperation and raw sunlight.

  Land

  One day, however, as The Rebel began its usual drifting course toward the shore, no Flying Ships appeared. An hour passed, and then another, the ship ever so slowly coming closer to land, but still no one came to tow it away. Evol and the other Maritanians stood on the deck, looking at the gradually approaching shoreline.

  "That's very strange," remarked Alphonso.

  "Yes," Evol said, scratching his head with a tendril. "It sure is."

  "Perhaps they'd forgotten us," Alphonso suggested.

  "Oh, I sure hope so!" said another Sprout. "I would give anything to set my foot on land again and sprout."

  "Or eat whatever I like, freshly prepared," Alphonso added.

  "No, no, this can't be. Someone will surely see us," said Evol, squinting into the distance ahead. The shore appeared to be empty.

  No one came. The Rebel docked by itself on the beach and stopped. The Sprouts climbed out one by one. Alphonso immediately fell to the ground and kissed the sand under his feet. Evol looked at him with some disdain, and still could not believe it: not a Sprout in sight. No signals, or ships, or anyone at all. Halfpancakegea looked like a deserted island.

  They walked further up along the beach. By the water side were scattered bits and pieces of various flotsam: old cables, rusty chains, broken glass, drift wood, pieces of rocks and all kinds of rubble. Evol picked up a piece of glass - it was melted.

  "Very strange," he said, and tossed it aside.

  As they approached the outskirts of the city, there was not a building, or tree, or any living thing all around.

  "What's happened here?" pondered Evol. "Surely they couldn't have just disappeared!"

  They began walking towards the Center. It was a fairly short walk now because most of the surrounding land was gone. The vast continent of what was once called Pancakegea had been reduced to the size of an island.

  As they neared the Center, they saw a single flag flying high above the rubble: it was the canary yellow flag of Asbestos. It was flying off a crippled little tower that was bent about halfway down the middle, like a candle that got heated too much on one side. It was the only piece of architecture, or, as a matter of fact, anything, still standing upright in the whole landscape.

  "Stop right there!" a voice shouted suddenly out of the rubble.

  Evol and the others paused. A sound like a mechanical toy being wound up echoed from the window of the Tower, followed by a sharp click.

  "Who are you?" the hidden shouter demanded to know.

  "None of your business!" Evol shouted back. "Who are you?"

  "I'm an Asbestan. Identify yourselves," was the curt reply, followed by another mechanical click.

  Evol scratched his head for a moment. "We're Canadians," he said.

  At these words, a volley of shots rang out, and the Maritanians immediately ducked for cover under the nearest rocks. These stately rocks contained many giant fossilized sea shells and would have been rather interesting to look at under any other circumstances.

  Evol looked over at Alphonso, who was hiding under a very large specimen nearby.

  "I thought Canadians and Asbestans were friends," Alphonso said.

  "Maybe not anymore," someone suggested, as another volley of shots pelted their hiding place, raising some dust and knocking out bits of ancient shells.

  Evol peered out cautiously. "We're Maritanians!" he shouted, and quickly ducked down because the shots started up again.

  "What?" the voice shouted back.

  "Stop shooting for a minute!" yelled Evol.

  The shooting abruptly ceased.

  "Who are you?"

  "We're Maritanians," Evol yelled again.

  For the longest time there was only silence. The sea lapped its waves behind them, and bits of damaged rock occasionally fell to the ground, but that was all. Evol and the others exchanged concerned looks.

  "Now what?" said Alphonso.

  "We'll wait until sundown," said Evol. "Then we'll try to get inside."

  Sundown

  And so they waited. As soon as the Big Star had set, burning the sea with its reddish fire, the Maritanian Sprouts crawled out of their hiding places under the rocks and began to make their way toward the Center, where the mysterious shouter was hiding. They stopped from time to time and listened, but all was quiet and still.

  The bent tower stood alone in the gloomy darkness ahead. Greenish sea mists wrapped about its base, and it was wet and cold all around. The Sprouts were very stealthy that night and crawled about silently on all fours, like lizards do. Evol climbed into the Tower through a small round window and found one small Sprout with a bright yellow tail. He was asleep at his post. Evol the
n motioned for the others to get inside.

  The yellow tailed Sprout awoke with a start. All around him were standing tall blue tailed Sprouts with very menacing looks on their faces. Only Alphonso was nowhere to be seen: he had found some food on his way up and was now eating it on the second floor stairwell of the tower.

  "Who are you?" Evol asked the scared small Sprout.

  "Franklyn," said Franklyn.

  Evol was looking at the Sprout's weapon: a simple rotary wooden sling shot machine, now standing empty of its ammunition. Its large wooden disc could easily house twenty to forty shots. Evol gave the big disc a spin with his hand, and it rattled away emptily.

  "Why were you shooting at us?" Evol demanded.

  "Please don't hurt me. I'm all alone. Everyone else is gone," the Sprout named Franklyn answered shakily.

  "What happened?" said Alphonso, who had just come into the room. His face was covered with blotches of sunlight.

  Franklyn suddenly dropped his head into his hands. He sat like this, miserable, for a long time, rocking slowly back and forth. The Maritanians exchanged looks. After a while, he quit sobbing and looked out the window with his eyes glazed over and red.

  "Why is everything blown up?" asked Evol.

  "Jackie LeSaint and Fidel Cassavettes had a slight disagreement," Franklyn finally said, and put his hands on top of his head for no apparent reason. "There was a big war. And then there was a big explosion, and after that, I was the only one left." He sobbed some more. "I just happened to be in the cellar when it all went off. I didn't see anything, but