Seeds Of Harmony

PROLOGUE

Haven and Harmony: two planets circling the same sun. Neither were anywhere near a center of human civilization, even using astronomical measurements. They were far from any trade route when they were first, accidentally, discovered. They were essentially unknown and unnoticed in an unexplored, minor part of the galaxy.

A vast ship, a colony class ship, immense in size and aspiration, carrying everything needed to jump-start life on a new planet, had malfunctioned. Traveling at immense speed, its target planet long since lost, its systems saving the colonists for as long as possible until certain life-threatening parameters were breached, it finally tumbled out of the blackness into this isolated system. With nothing familiar in the skies or the stars to greet them, the colonists awoke to a new destination, a different system. Their observations and measurements at first confused them before they finally accepted that fate had decided they should live here, not be dead and desiccated, traveling without end in the vastness beyond. They blessed the luck they had had which had brought them to this system when they could so easily have come awake in emptiness and lived briefly in despair, dying one by one, alone.

They chose the inner of the two available planets. It was rich with everything they would need from the very start. The outer planet, with no easy accessible metals, was further out, traveling on a slower path than Haven. The choice was obvious. As was the name.

Seen from the edge of the system, Haven seemed to hurtle, where its sister glided. Yet, to the grateful, lucky, new inhabitants, the seasons seemed normal. All that they missed was a moon to light their nights. But they could live, were living, without one.

It was only after they had forged the beginnings of a fresh, world-spanning civilization that some, still amazed at the fate which had carried them to this system, wondered whether they had made the right choice. They wondered if they should be taming the planet, digging into it, carving it and sculpting it to meet their dreams and desires. It seemed, they said, to be disrespectful to their savior. Perhaps the other planet would have been the right choice. No metals would have meant a closer relationship with the planet. After all, they had left a planet behind them gouged deep and drained of everything it had to offer. It was why they had left. Did they have to repeat that here? It seemed this was a chance to live differently.

And so some of the people, looking for a new way of living; a way which seemed to have been offered them, took a ship to the outer, slower planet with its beckoning moon and named it what they dreamed of: Harmony.

But their new home was not easy, nor welcoming. There were trials which tested the resolve of them all. Some were found wanting and, sadly acknowledging their weakness, said farewell to their dream and traveled back to Haven. They left their companions and set off on the ship they had arrived in, determined to at least hold high their heads at having attempted to follow their dream. But they did not live to proclaim their pride. Not one survived the return journey. The cause was never established. Apart from the bodies, there were some samples of plants and some recorded stories of strange things that had been witnessed or perhaps experienced, tales which made little sense and soon became myth. The name of Harmony became a fable of a place where people lost their rational abilities or sank into something only slightly above a stone age. It was no longer a place to dream of.

The relatively small band left behind on Harmony, now completely isolated, took up the struggle to survive, as well as to understand the planet they now called home. They strove to listen to it, to become close to it in a way they could never have considered on Haven. And, slowly, very slowly at first, they spread and they learned. They learned of the planet, but they also learned of themselves, and the knowledge they gained brought them new understanding and began to change them in subtle ways that, because they were gradual, became accepted as normal. To them, Haven became a memory of a distant place of belching smoke and blinkered ignorance where people confused progress with wisdom.

As they grew slowly in different, yet still human, ways on Harmony, so those on Haven grew in the same way humanity always had done. Industry and government, education and politics, exploration and invention became more intricate and less personal and always expanding. And all around them, in the moonless night sky, the unknown stars shone and teased them with the need to find their own kind. But to do that required immense efforts, driving leadership and constant investment of energy and inspiration to a common goal. Whenever those elements existed at the same time, they were never harnessed effectively or for any length of time. And most of the time they did not coexist.

The original colony ship had been gutted, re-shaped as the basis of factories and mines and machinery, as it had been designed to do. Some small ships were used to dismantle and transfer the colony ship to the planet's surface, piece by piece. Those tiny offspring themselves broke down eventually. But, before the last of them disappeared, a new one was built. Better design. Better engines. But there was nothing for it to do. It served only one purpose; to provide a tangible connection with the stars in the night sky. When that began to fail, another was built. And then another when the second was failing. But none of them could travel into the endless space beyond the system. They represented the deep desire to find the rest of humankind, even if it could not, yet, be accomplished. The ships were the communal response to a shared dream.

Despite having the ability, there was hardly any contact made between Haven and Harmony, because Haven felt there was no need. No metals meant no progress to those on Haven. Harmony had been a failed experiment early in Haven's history. It was a planet for the curious only. Not for anyone who wished for the stars. Once in every several generations, a ship had been sent, but there was no real purpose to it beyond the technicality of the voyage itself. After such fleeting visits, tales were told of a strange affliction, a curse whereby nobody could leave Harmony alive if they stayed too long, or ate any of the food or drank the water. Those on Harmony came to resent such contacts, seeing them as unwanted invasions of their privacy and as intimidatory displays. Whatever commonality might have existed eroded over time until those on Harmony believed Haven an unspecified but potent threat to their way of life, and those on Haven believed Harmony to be both uncivilized and stagnant in ambition. Not that that stopped them from using Harmony to exile the very occasional high profile 'irritant', when a visible, but expensive, 'mercy' was politically valuable. Plus, it was technically useful for testing new ship designs. In living memory, an armada had been sent to Harmony; supposedly to establish a base for deep space exploration. But it had failed in strange and unexplainable circumstances.

So the two planets, carrying the same human seeds at different rates around the same sun, nurtured and grew them in different mediums to have different aspirations. Harmony passed slowly and gently through the same seasons that Haven, by comparison, slid through with a seemingly headlong rush.

And there were the beginnings of a new idea germinating in the system. Nobody could say what started it or where it originated, but it had the potential to become larger. Whether it would grow into something worthwhile, something viable, remained to be seen. And the sun remained in the center, pulling the planets along, like children.

1

LARRICK

Larrick was on his hands and knees in the long grass at the back of one of the pigsties trying to find the hole in the wall where the rats were coming in. He had volunteered to do it so that he could spend some time on his own generally out of sight and have the chance just to stop for a while and rest a bit: enjoy the day for a change instead of working, working, working. He must have dozed off, for the sun was much higher now. He had started up guiltily before hunkering down and scuttling crab-like back to the pigsties in case anyone saw him. He was now poking around, his head close to the ground, looking for any holes when he heard the sound. It wasn't one he recognized, being more like a short, loud pop than anything else. Puzzled, he peered around the corner and saw someone looking as if they had tripped and fallen. He shook his head at the clumsiness of someone -- was it Haller laying there? -- tripping on flat ground. He was about to go and help, because it was obvious Haller wasn't moving, when he heard the same sound again, only this time it was followed by a cry of pain. Then he saw a strange, helmeted figure sidle from the sty with his or her back to him He, or she, was wearing camouflage. It was so strange to see, so out of place. But whoever it was was also carrying something high up, tucked into the shoulder. Larrick put his hand to his mouth in shock and fear. A weapon!

There were more explosive sounds which he now recognized as shots. The one soldier he could see still facing away from Larrick, walked slowly away from the stye and past Haller as the gun swung back and forth. Pausing briefly by Haller, the soldier pointed the weapon down and shot Haller twice in the head, causing the large body to spasm in reaction, bouncing slightly with each shot. The number of shots further away increased and so did the shrieks of fear and pain. There was some shouting but it seemed mainly to be from the soldiers calling to each other. The pigs began to squeal, adding to the calls of cows and sheep: a swelling noise drumming at Larrick's ears.

From where he was crouched, Larrick could only see Haller's body, now missing part of his head. Too numb with fear to move, he was unaware of the tears streaming down his face or the way his whole body was shaking. His breathing was ragged and he slumped against the wall, turning away from Haller, his neighbor. With each shot, each cry of anguish, each half-heard pleading voice, he shook and closed his eyes only to open them and stare sightlessly ahead before the next one.

Gradually, the shots came further and further apart and the soldiers' calls took on a less urgent tone. He had no idea how long he had been there. By now he was hugging his knees to him, too frightened to do anything. Finally, he heard some soldiers closer than the rest entering the stables closest to the pigsty.

How many do you think there were here? asked one young-sounding voice.

I don't know. Fifty maybe? More than the last place anyway. This second voice sounded older, rougher. Beats me why anyone would even want to live like this. Look at it. Dirt and rags and nothing else. No luxuries. And if you want something, you have to make it yourself. Absolutely crazy people. They're insane.

But why do they do it? Live like this, I mean?

Because they're not right in the head, are they? Take a look at their homes for starters. Why would anyone choose to live inside earth walls and under grass roofs when you've got a perfectly decent town nearby? They have to be crazy. We did them a favor. They had to be dead inside to live like this. Dead inside but didn't know it.

There was a pause and the sounds of shuffling and cows protesting. Are you any good at making these things move in the direction you want? asked the young voice.

Just give 'em a good slap on the rump to get 'em going, then prod 'em to keep 'em going. It's not hard. There was the sound of a slap and another cow protesting. Ain't you ever seen a cow before? There was incredulity in the voice.

Not up close. Not like this.

Well, let's get them loaded and then we'll come back and round up the pigs. They're the ones you have to watch out for.

Why's that?

You'll find out soon enough. Now let's get going so's we can torch this place and finish with it.

The cattle made their feelings plain amidst the shouts and calls. Larrick listened to them until those sounds were lost amongst the general noise and confusion going on. He wanted to move, to do something, anything to prove to himself he was still alive, but he was locked in shock. He tried to say her name, to say 'Shelleer', but something in his throat caught and he could only gulp in spasms. All he could think of was the older voice talking about the pigs. They were coming back for the pigs and they would find him. And then they would kill him like they had killed all the others. But she wasn't here with him. She was dead. They had shot her and he hadn't even been able to recognize her voice.

Something inside of him at last let loose of his limbs and he found himself scrambling on hands and knees through the grass, heading for the bushes and, further, for the trees. There was no plan, only the urge to leave this behind and not be killed. Nothing else counted. He scrabbled on and on, his lungs screaming at him, every part of his body aching, bruised or cut. Only when he could no longer move, only then did he allow himself to think of her, of Shelleer, his wife, his beautiful, young wife. And the tears flowed as he thought of leaving her behind. The guilt of being alive crushed down on him and he hugged himself as he saw the smoke rising in the distance, knowing that his life was over. Nobody needed to shoot him. He was, as that soldier had said, dead inside. Dead. He knew it for certain.

He waited in misery until the soldiers had left and fire had died out and the smoke was only a few wisps before going back. He wanted to do... something. Say farewell? Apologize? Let them all know he would remember them?

The homes they had built had all been burned or pulled down. Fences had been torn out and the crops had been set on fire. But worst of all were the bodies. They lay where they had fallen. A few he recognized from their clothing, but the rats had also found them. They were still feasting when he arrived and he screamed and kicked at them. He wanted to find Shelleer, but also wanted not to. Then he recognized her hair: that long braid where ribbons twined in and out. She was facing away from him as he knelt, her limbs spread as if she was about to run, the ground around her dark from her blood. He stroked her hair and found he lacked the courage to see her face again. He tried to say something to her, to apologize for being alive without her, but his voice failed him. Looking around he felt useless and irrelevant; a helpless fool. He realized that there was nothing he could do or say here that would have any meaning at all, least of all to him. So he turned his back and left, empty of tears and of hope. If he was to die, it would be somewhere else; on his own and wrapped in his own guilt and shame.

He walked. The direction didn't matter. He kept walking away.

2

THE SLEEPER

Javin fought to become fully awake. He was drenched in sweat, his heart pounding, as he struggled to overcome the fear, fighting to get away from it. He gulped air noisily as he tried to sit up and leave the dream behind. As he struggled, he felt the fear lessen a little. But as he began to regain some sense of who and where he was, Meldren began to cry out in her sleep. Her arms and legs began thrashing and she started to make a disturbing sound of one continuous note somewhere between a wail and a moan, rising higher and higher to where it would have ended as a scream. Instead, he shook her shoulder. It's all right. It's over. You're safe. You're safe.

She gulped and swallowed as if her throat was dry and breathing was difficult. She blinked and looked around in the pale moonlight, disoriented by whatever she had experienced.

What happened? asked Javin, grateful to focus on her and thus push his experience further away.

I had a bad dream. A really bad one. Her voice was shaky.

It looked like it. I had one as well.

You? What? When?

Javin's heart rate was almost back to normal. He wiped his forehead, the sweat cooling on it. Just now. I'd just woken up because of it, and then you started moaning and thrashing around.

Meldren sat up and rested her head on Javin's shoulder, still breathing deeply, and brushing her long, red hair from her face where it had become stuck with sweat. She pushed the rumpled bedding from her to try and cool down. What was your dream about?

Not a dream. It was a nightmare. One of those you can't seem to stop. He put his arm round her shoulder, peering sightlessly into the night as he tried to recall the details of what had happened. I was in a boat, a small boat. Fishing I think. The sea was calm. It looked flat. We were well away from the shore. I could see it in the distance. And then... then there was a huge fish. No, two. There were two of them. Very big, and they were suddenly fighting near us. Coming up out of the water. And there was someone else there in the boat. I didn't see him -- it was definitely a him -- I didn't see him but I knew he was there, whoever he was. Anyway, then suddenly there was this huge black tail smashing down on me. Big and fast. I managed to jump away from it, I think, and then everything went dark, like I was under water. It felt completely real. The other person was dead. I knew that somehow. But the worst of it was that I knew it was my fault. I knew it. He shivered at the memory. That's all I can remember. I was right there. All the details were so... perfect. So real. He gave another small shudder as if to shake off the remains of the dream and then gave Meldren a gentle hug. What was yours? The same?

Meldren shook her head in dismissal. I don't want to think about it.

I understand, but it might mean something. Two of us having nightmares? It could be Harmony doing something. Although if it is, I really don't like it.

Meldren was silent for a space. It's not Harmony. I'm sure of that. Not Her directly, anyway. And, if She is trying to tell us something, I can't begin to think what it might be. She took a steadying breath. All right, I'll tell you. I was being attacked. Actually, I was being raped. Javin stiffened at the words but forced himself to say nothing. I don't know who it was. I never saw the face, but it was someone the 'me' in the dream knew. He was big. Much bigger than me, and he was sweating and it was smoky, wherever it was. I think we were inside some sort of building. Nothing like this one. No straight walls, more curving. But it felt like it was my home. I don't know where it was. There was a dog there as well. Big and white. It was my dog. I knew that in the dream. It was trying to stop him, snapping and snarling. He looked away at the dog and I... I hit him. I hit him on the head. With a stone, I think. It was in my hand. Really hard, I hit him. He fell down on his side. Her voice tailed off into silence. Javin hugged her to him, stroking her hair, reassuring her.

I'm sorry. That must have been awful. I can't see any message in that. Nor in mine. Two nightmares. But two different nightmares which happened at the same time? That's not a coincidence.

He had no idea what it might mean but he knew he wanted to shake off the residue of the nightmare. He came to a decision.

Well, I think we've slept all we are going to, tonight, he said, swinging his legs out and heading for the pitcher of water, using the moonlight to avoid stubbing his toes. Let's watch the sun come up and have a drink of water. I'm cold now I've stopped sweating, so bring blankets while I pour.

Sitting at the table with the blankets thrown over their shoulders against the night chill, he held her hand. How do you feel now?

Oh, I'll be fine. I know it was just a dream. But it was so real.

Mine, too.

She sipped at the water. You were right, though.

About what?

About it being a message, I think. The two of us having nightmares. That's not normal. There has to be something more to it. But why did we have them? That's what I can't understand. It's not like it was with Harmony. When She showed us things, those were vivid. But not like the nightmares. They both thought back to the first time they had Harmony come to them. They had both experienced very vivid dreams or visions, but they had each had the same one at the same time. This was different.

I'm with you, said Javin. Yes, Harmony can be a little frightening, but Her frightening was more for a definite purpose, a way of telling us something. What can these dreams tell us? That bad things happen to people? He shook his head. I can hear your song and it's still in tune, still sounding as it should, he said, referring to his ability to hear the songs which, they had learned, created the world and everything in it. Nothing else sounds wrong. And neither of our sprites made a sound like they would have done if it was Harmony. The snake-like creatures that were normally wrapped around their necks during the day were coiled together as usual at the end of the bed.

We were meant to have those dreams then? She sounded skeptical. But what was the point of having them?

I don't know. Javin pulled his blanket a little closer. My dream was me, the dream me, almost dying, and in yours, you were being attacked and could have been killed, I suppose. Both violent dreams. He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging on it in his frustration to understand. Violence. And it felt so real. He blew out a sigh of annoyance. I don't like not knowing.

Can you feel anything coming that might help understand this?

He paused as he let his mind wander ahead to see if he could sense anything unusual. It felt smooth and flowing as it normally did. No. Only Amleek arriving with the boat tomorrow. Well, today now.

Same for me. And there's nothing violent, nothing wrong in the feel of that. Meldren finished the water. I don't like this dream and I don't want another one or the same one. There has to be some sort of reason.

If it is Harmony in some fashion, then I guess we're going to find out soon enough. She'll find a way to tell us. She always has. He had a thought and paused a moment to close his eyes again. "Mel? There is something, some little thing. A prickling in my head. It's not a song. But it's something. I think I am picking up something. I don't think I was feeling far enough ahead. It's there. Out there. He opened his eyes and gestured with his hand in front of him. Can you feel it at all? It's faint and maybe I'm making it up. What about you?"

She, in turn, shut her eyes and took a relaxing breath, the better to feel her way into the future. Maybe. Maybe there is something. She looked at Javin in the dim light, half-dressed. It's not clear. I can't get a good feel for it. But it's there. Are you sure it's to do with our dreams?

He tapped his head. There's a definite link in my mind somehow. It feels like there's a connection between it and what happened tonight. But whatever it is, it's not happening today. At least I don't feel that. Sometime later. Maybe a lot later. He suddenly shivered, not from the cold. Whatever it is, it's got the feel of something big. But I suppose I would think that, if I can feel it from this distance. I wonder if we're going to like what it is?

Meldren gave a throaty chuckle. Now that would be worth knowing. But, assuming that is in the future, let's go back to bed.

I am a bit cold now, he admitted.

Do you have to be so practical?

Ah. I see. No. Not at all.

By the time Amleek's little boat turned up, both of them had shaken off any lasting feelings about the nightmares. They were dressed and had slung cloaks around themselves against the cool wind they knew they would feel on the open ocean between the island and Littlehaven. Amleek, the stocky little sailor, bronzed from the sun and the wind, was sitting on the bottommost of the rough steps which had been carved out of the gentle slope leading up from where he had tied his boat. It would have been grand to have called it a harbor or even a dock. Grand, but wrong. It was more truthful and accurate to say that the avenue of smooth, salt-stained boulders shouldering up from the seafloor was sufficiently wide for him to nose in between them and tall enough for the boat to be sheltered by their size. The slight angle in the avenue about half way in also served as protection from any but the strongest waves. It was an entirely natural phenomenon, neither Javin nor Meldren having had anything to do with it. But the fact of its existence seemed to indicate that it was ready and waiting for someone to use it. Perhaps it had only appeared when it was needed. Whatever the true cause of the small harbor, Amleek's boat was riding the gentle swells inside it and he was chewing on some dried fish, staring out to sea by the time his two passengers arrived at the top of the steps.

Tell me again, why I have to go in that really tiny and scary boat of his? I can sing us to Littlehaven and back. Javin spoke quietly, reluctant to start down.

Because we're trying to live normally, remember? We can't do everything with songs. Meldren answered just as quietly. And, besides, it's a good thing to face your fears and not run away from them just because it would be easier. She ignored the face Javin pulled and continued. We've had this conversation before. It's a good way of getting used to being with people again. Having just him at first and then, as we get closer, getting to be comfortable with all the people in Littlehaven. She smiled and planted a quick but thorough kiss on his cheek. Plus, I really like it. And before Javin could argue, she stepped ahead of him, calling and waving. Amleek! Good to see you and your boat again. Thank you so much for coming.

Amleek stood and, spitting out some un-chewable portion, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before waving back. I was going to wait until the wind eased later today before going back to give you time to get ready. He wiped his hands on the ground to clean them. I've never needed to come find you. I guessed you'd know I was here. He turned his face to the ocean, using his chin to point. The weather feels good for a day or so. It seemed right enough to come now. His tanned face eased naturally into a mass of wrinkles under the wide cloth headband when he smiled. He pointed to his throat and then to Meldren. I see you've still got those creatures on you, he said, referring to the sprites which were now around their necks. Are you willing to trade yet? It was a ritual, repeated every time he arrived. And every time it was answered the same.

You know very well that they found us and we like them enough to keep them. She rested her hand against the sprite coiled comfortably around her neck. And we don't really know what exactly they do, if anything. And, no, you can't have one, unless you find one of your own. The part about not knowing what they did was half true. Harmony had told them that they were a way to allow Her to communicate more easily with both her and Javin. But neither really knew what they were or how they did what they did. Amleek would probably have given them free trips forever in return for having one of their sprites for himself.

She turned to Javin and held out her hand, smiling in a sweetly fierce way. Come on, let's not keep Amleek waiting.

Javin gave a thin smile as he finally stepped aboard. He could find no good reason for trusting this unsettling craft, despite the fact that it had conveyed them back and forth more times than he wanted to count. Amleek had been happy to ferry them to and from Littlehaven, the nearest port, on an occasional basis. Every so often, he would turn up and they would know it -- having sensed or foreseen him -- and then take the day to travel and trade. He turned up when he felt the wind was going to be favorable and the weather fair, and when he thought sufficient time had elapsed since his last visit. There was nothing rushed or permanent in the arrangement, but it suited both parties. As payment, they traded herbs with him, fruits or whatever else was in season in their small garden. Plus, Meldren had taken up making baskets of various sizes and Amleek had thought them good enough for payment, which had pleased her greatly. Once in Littlehaven, they could acquire supplies, trade herbs with Abalan the healer, or just become used to being amongst people again: a tiring experience which made the isolation of the island a necessity for them.

Javin had reluctantly agreed that the two of them should try to live as normally as possible, even though they had the ability to create anything they might want from song; for songs, they had learned from Harmony, created everything, if only you knew how to sing them. Living normally had come to include growing their own food, as far as possible. Their garden provided them with some food: fruits like the small and tasty pok berries and the well-named slipsweet, some root vegetables and leafy greens and the inevitable simesh bush: the leaves used for making the popular hot drink. The garden provided enough produce to add variety and also gave them something to focus their energies on. Anything else they required they obtained from visits to Littlehaven.

Meldren had been very firm in her views. You can't just hide away, Javin, she had said. If we can hear Harmony, feel Her as we grow our crops, we should also see Her as well. And we can't do that by staying here on our own. Being with others, even for a little while, won't hurt us, and it will allow us to hear other songs from other places, get a feel for other things. If Harmony does speak to us again like when we were first together, we had better be ready for her. And we won't be if we hide ourselves away from everyone on this island. And, before you say we could hide and nobody would know, you're still missing the point of it all.

And that had been the end of that.

It still didn't make him feel any better about setting foot on the boat. It's a bundle of twigs held together with spit, probably, and bits of old fish that Amleek can't eat. It's small and it moves all wrong and I have trouble hearing the ocean and any danger. It's a bad way of going anywhere, he muttered.

And yet still we're going to do it, said Meldren brightly. You can listen all you want for any problems coming up. But, unless I hear them as well, we're going to Littlehaven on that bundle of twigs.

To be fair to Amleek, his boat was indeed made mainly of bundles of reeds tied together to create a platform for the solid decking, where the small cabin gave shelter from bad weather and helped the short mast keep upright. But those bundles were large enough and long enough to ensure there was enough room for at least six people. Indeed, it was large enough to sit and rest comfortably against the bulwark formed from the topmost reed bundles and still have some protection from the wind. And the reeds were made more secure by the wide, strong strands of a type of weed called ship-weed, which could be dried and hardened into a durable and waterproof cladding for the hull. Not that that knowledge was of any