Makoto woke up, refreshed and hopeful. At breakfast, he was
eager and lively. The sparkle was back in his eye, and the smile
back on his face. Nanami and Shayla had to comment on this, of
course.
"Hey Makoto, you're looking better," Namami said.
Shayla followed with, "Yeah, you look a lot more cheerful today
than you have been for a while. What gives?"
"A dream," Makoto began, finishing some sort of vaguely
sausage-looking item. "Different from the one I've been having
lately."
"Oh?" went Nanami, urging him to continue.
"Mhm," Makoto nodded as he polished off another piece of toast.
When the toast was done, he began again. "It's the disks; the ones
Schtalubaugh and I are looking at. I can feel it, the answer's in
them. One of them has information about the Eye of God--
information that I can use to see Her again." No need for Nanami
and Shayla to figure out who "Her" was. "And to find us a way
home," Makoto added judiciously as an afterthought.
"It's there. In the disks. The key to understanding. I can
smell almost smell it, nearly taste it. Like it's almost calling to
me through my ability."
Makoto looked up, and noticed the time. He hurriedly drank some
bluish juice and rushed off, saying, "Oh my gosh! I gotta go.
Schtalubaugh's expecting me in his laboratory: we're going to do
another disk today."
Schtalubaugh was pacing back and for, to and fro, when Makoto
arrived, uttering meaningless excuses as he headed towards the
table with the disks.
A light touch with his fingers, a moment of concentration, and an
image quickly flickered to life above the thin player, wearing a fez
encrusted with gems and gold, deep blue satin pantaloons and a silver
sherwani, with gold tracery. The man wears his beard in a Van Dyke, and
is obviously related to Ammar, from yesterday's disk.
"Salaam aleikum! In the name of Padashah Farquan ibn Almalik,
most gracious ruler of El Hazard, and most favoured of Allah, I,
Achmed ibn Ammar, am here to bear witness to the greatest
wonderment of our people. I am here to speak to you about a hot,
new technology. Biotechnology. The science of life. Specifically,
genetics, and genetic engineering.
"We have recently made some breakthroughs, especially in the
area of cross-species gene-splicing. We have been able to splice in
various physical characteristics from different species, to make
one new species.
"Our first major success in grafting multi-species
characteristics is that of two species: the brown bear, and the
bottle-nose dolphin."
Achmed's image is replaced by a scale representation of a
dolphin-bear, the first creature Makoto and Fujisawa saw upon
arrival in El Hazard. Fur-covered limbs adorn the dolphin's body, which
iss tapered off, and sans fins. Fur or hair growing out of the head in
a mohawk-type configuration, and continue down onto the back until it
merged with a long, thin tail with a tuft of hair coming out of the
creatures behind, which is also covered in shaggy, brown fur.
The creature's nose iss more blunt and wide than that of a dolphin,
and looks like it had two small nostrils on top, instead of a
blow-hole. It also lacks a dorsal fin, and the dolphin's colour was a
dark blue, bordering on black, with a white belly.
The image rotates slowly on some imaginary turntable.
"This creature breeds true," comes Achmed's voiceover as the
image continues to rotate. "The experiment was to see if we could form
a viable cross, with gross physical characteristics inherent in both
original species apparent in the crossbreed. Minor external
characteristics, and some somewhat major internal characteristics
have previously been done, but this is our first real success with
such drastic alterations and splicing of species.
"Why the dolphin and the brown bear? The first answer is
because we can. Perhaps it would be better to say that it is a
matter of _seeing_ if we can. The two original species, while both
mammalian, are extremely different, even living in different
environments. As such, someone in our public relations division
thought it would be a good idea to use such disparate creatures.
Incidentally, they make a good pet and are the latest fashion in
the court.
"Speaking of court fashion, there is another creature, a true
flying fish."
The image of the dolphin-bear is replaced by an iridescent fish of
some kind with too-long fins on the sides-- almost feathery instead of
scaly in appearance. The image rotates slowly in three dimensions,
allowing a view from all angles.
"This work was commissioned by one of the members of the royal
court, who loved to watch fish, but hated the seacoast and large bodies
of water." Ammar's voiceover coughs politely, twice. "Yes, well.
"So we come up with this. Both a bird and a fish exist and move
about in three dimensions, so it was logical to try, as well as
exceedingly difficult, having to replace and alter many internal
organs. Gills exchanged for lungs, muscle formation and power had to be
changed as well to enable flight, while still keeping the same basic
form.
"The oddest thing of all about the new creature is, well, that it
tastes like chicken-- and none of our scientists have an explanation
why-- only that it does."
The image flickers fractionally and is replaced by a new
entry, made several years after the first by the looks of Achmed,
whose Van Dyke has grown a considerable length and now has a few
traces of silver in it. Achmed's attire has also changed, becoming
more subdued and less gaudy. He is clad entirely in pure white
clothes, satins and silks with silver and gold embroidery tracing
the edges. No fez this time, but a turban of the same pure white as
his other clothes, and a large pearl surrounded by elegant goldwork
embedded in the front of it.
"Salaam aleikum! In the name of our most benevolent ruler,
Padashah Farquan ibn Almalik, whose munificence is as great as the
mountains, and smile as bright as the sun, I, Achmed ibn Ammar have
been made wazir, replacing my father, Ammar ibn Imfari who has
recently been granted administrative leadership of the Ahriman
research and Testing Facilities. I will still continue with my
recordings, mind you-- these will still be part of my duties, as
they were once the duty of my father, Ammar ibn Imfari.
"The formation of a new species by crossing the physical
characteristics of two or more, however great and innovative these
new creatures might be, they are still not much more than
showpieces-- visible testaments to the genius of our scientists as
well as somewhat amusing for the royal court-- display purposes,
mainly. I have not mentioned crops which fertilise themselves by
fixing nitrogen in the atmosphere, bacteria which can metabolise
the deadliest of toxic wastes and turn dumping grounds into lush
farmland. I have not talked about gene therapies which have doubled
the average lifespan and eliminated inherited diseases. I have not
talked about more pest resistant crops, heartier, with greater
yields and taste. This is the true genius of our scientists, the
true benefit of our endeavours. Such things, however, do not
translate very easily in this medium, are not easily shown or
demonstrated without numbers and graphs and charts," said numbers
and graphs and charts took over the image, scrolling by too quickly
to really make much out of them beyond their titles.
The speed of the playback on the disks could be altered--
Makoto had found this out yesterday, during one playing of the
disk. One could even skip parts, or fast forward and reverse. Much
like a laser disk player indeed.
Achmed reappears momentarily, the charts and statistics
finally ending, and he continues his monologue. "What does
translate easily to this medium are things like this," Achmed waves
his hand and a picture of the prototype of the washer-creature at
Arliman, Shunsuke appears.
The picture turns around slowly, allowing a view from every
point and was replaced by Achmed again.
"I am, however, able to show something which _is_ useful.
This:"
Achmed's image disappears once again, to be replaced by what is
obviously the progenitor of the Type I Bugrom. There are some
differences, however. The antennae are larger, with sub-antennae
coming out of the main stalk at regulr intervals, making it look
like a set of antlers. The exoskeleton, the chitin, is not nearly
as glossy, looking more like an unglazed ceramic, as well as being
a darker shade, more purple and porphry than lavender and burgundy;
the triple oculars on the forehead were larger and spaced farther
apart, perhaps functional. The lower, secondary set of arms seem
more fully developed, the same size as the higher set. The
manipulative digits looked more like claws, ending in less rounded
points, looking rougher and not as well-formed. The Bugrom, like
previous images, turned around slowly on some unseen table.
"This is our finest technical achievement: the creation of a
whole new race from the start, and not the result of crossing
physical characteristics from several species to make a new one,"
comes the voiceover by Achmed. "We have built it from the very start,
DNA block by DNA block, gene by gene, chromosome by chromosome-- a
truer monument to our genius cannot be conceived. To develop the
internal and external physical characteristics and workings right from
the base, and code it from scratch, is a daunting task but one which we
have undertaken. This creature is a remarkable piece of genengineering
and design, our first totally new species.
"Strength several times greater than human, this creature needs
little sleep or rest, having an endurance unmatched on El Hazard.
It is the perfect worker. Resistant to damage and extremes in
pressure due to the exoskeleton, it replaces many of the jin being
used in hostile environments, being both cheaper to produce (in the
long run, at least, since all we have to do is grow them and, being
organic, made out of cheaper materials) as well as being less
expensive to upkeep and maintain.
"The large eyes, which one might expect to be compound from the
insectoid appearance of the prototype, are not, and see into the
same spectra that humans do, although it has mildly better depth
perception and peripheral vision. The triple oculars on the center
of the forehead are operative. Two of them see into infra-red and
deep infra-red, allowing for low illumination/night vision with
some form of depth perception, while the third eye sees into the
ultra-violet spectrum. While possessing a greater range of sight
than a human, the creature does not quite have the same visual
range, not being able to see as far away as humans can.
"The exoskeleton, which has already been mentioned, makes it
perfect for work in mines, deserts, or similar areas. Work
continues on upgrading the ability for fine manipulation of items,
as we have sacrificed flexibility and manual dexterity for raw
power and endurance.
"Not extremely intelligent when compared to the average human,
it is nonetheless capable of receiving and understanding orders.
The antennae," the picture focuses in on the antennae, which have a
slight metallic sheen to them," do not contain any chemical
receptors in them, as one might expect-- such receptors which give
it the ability to smell is located at the base of the antennae, and
is only minimally operative. The purpose of the antennae is
something else entirely. The creature has the ability to receive
radio transmissions with it, and to a limited degree (a short range
only, strictly line-of-sight, unless boosted somehow) to transmit
them. Thus it communicates, and receives orders.
"Along with the insectoid appearance, the creature exhibits
something akin to a hive mentality, being nothing more than a
worker drone and is asexual. It works, it follows orders, it does
what it is told without complaint, not actually capable of
conceiving such a thing. The project is known as the Biological
Independant Generic Remote Organic Machine, or by the acronym
Bigrom."
The image flickered, to be replaced by one of Achmed wearing
clothing similar to that of before, but this time all in a warm,
off-white cream colour and even more intricately worked with gold
and silver (or perhaps platinum), but mostly gold. His tone is
crisp and business-like instead of the usual warm and friendly.
"Salaam Aleikum. Annotation to the Bigrom project. Two years
have passed since the first generic model was released. A second
type is finally finished and testing is beginning."
The image of Achmed fades and is replaced by what can only be a
type II Bugrom, with the short, squat body, hunchback carapace and
long, long claws.
"This new type is especially useful in mining operations, owing
to its smaller, more compact size. The longer digits are more adept
at fine control, as well as being perfectly servicable for some
mining operations even without the use of any other equiment. This
type is significantly more intelligent, able to perform more
complex tasks and manipulate more machinery. The first type is
still stronger, and possessing an extra set of fully usable limbs,
is able to perform some tasks not able to by the smaller one. More
compact and efficient though, this second type will take over many
of the duties the first type currently possesses, while at the same
time finding its own niche."
Achmed has changed once again, looking perhaps five years
older. Baggy cream-coloured pantaloons, which were mostly unseen by
the incarnadine sherwani reaching down to the knees, fringed with
bright gold in intricate, swirling embroidery. A pure white shirt
could be seen, the ruffles just sneaking out from under the
sleeves. A fez of the same colour as the sherwani adorned Achmed's
head, with a large, dark porphry feather affixed to the front of
it. Achmed's beard had grown in considerable length, now reaching
almost to his waist, and the dark hair of the beard and his short
hair was starting to hint of silver.
"Salaam Aleikum!" Achmed greeted animatedly, eyes glinting with
excitement. "In the name of the most benificent Padashah Farquan
ibn Almalik, whose wisdom is as great as the sea and mercy equal to
the sum of each grain of sand on the beach, most blessed and
beloved of Allah, I greet you with our greatest accomplishment
since the completion of the Eye of Allah, this!" he crows delightedly.
A wave of Achmed's hand, and he disappears, someone, or more
precisely, some_thing_ else taking his place instead. Large, one
could tell it was extremely large, no matter that it only seems to
encompass roughly the same size as Achmed, and with no background and
so no sense of perpective. The creature projected some aura of hugeness
and relative immobility that transcended the small, three dimensional
image.
The creature itself? Insectoid, very obviously so, with its
combination of mandibles and fleshy lips for a mouth and its
bloated, segmented body and atrophied limbs. The eyes, two of them,
looked fully human (strangely enough) with surprisingly long and
luxurious eyelashes.
"To further bring down costs, we have introduced a new Bigrom
creature to help reduce production costs, as well as making it
easier to modify existing models in succeeding generations without
having to totally redesign them: the Queen," came Achmed's
overdubbing as the image of the Queen blinked and pulsed.
"She can produce eggs for each model of Bigrom, having them
encoded in her DNA as well. Not hard to do, since most DNA in
creatures doesn't really do anything, just 'line noise' for lack of
a better term. The only thing such garbled DNA sets might serve is
to make mutations due to environmental factors less likely to be
harmful ones, or beneficial, for that matter. Keeping the species
in a state of relative stability, I suppose. With the Bigrom, with
their built in sterility, they are therefore unable to propagate
themselves and so it does not matter. Thus, we are able to make
their DNA much more compact. Redundancies in the Queen enable her
to check to make sure that these mutations do not crop up, or if
they do, that they are fixed before she fertilises the eggs. All
done automatically, of course.
"How does she check and correct any mutations? --not consciously,
all automatic. Like breathing, or, probably closer to it, like
getting your heart to beat. Your body does it automatically,
unthinkingly; in the same way the Queen, a fitting enough
appellation, unconsciously checks and corrects the code.
"We have had to make her more intelligent than other Bigrom, of
course, an enlarged cranial capacity give her head a slightly more
human appearance, and greater folding on the surface of the brain
allow for more complexity and abstract thought, important because
she actually does have to interact with us on a greater as well as
higher basis. More complex instructions, you see.
"The Queen, in addition to being able to produce Bigrom eggs
and correcting mistakes that may have cropped up in their genes,
also has the ability to alter them, to a certain degree. An
extension of the automatic correction ability, made conscious,
basically. Not extremely drastic alterations, but she makes them
instinctually. The Queen does not think about how she alters the
Bigrom DNA so that they do not suffer from chitin rot, for
instance, she just thinks about doing it, and it is accomplished in
the next generation. There are limits, however, to what she can and
cannot do.
"The Queen saves us much of the cost of creating the Bigrom, as
well as manpower in supervising their genesis, plus saves us much
time and effort on upgrading new generations. The Queen, which is
actually what the researchers have named her, is more properly
called Diverse Inchoate Bigrom Assembly, or Diba, again a prototype
and not quite a finished model. This one, capable of understanding
human speech and replying in kind, as she possesses a full range of
normal human sound with her mouth and vocal chords, is actually
helping the design team with the next model, offering suggestions.
I don't know whether or not the Queen will be making the next model
or if she is even capable of doing so-- the changes being made
might be too much for her to be able to accomodate."
Diba's shining orange and black carapace is replaced by
Achmed, this time in a deep blue velvet sherwani, with a turban and
pants of purest white samite. The turban has a large sapphire gem
and long, similarly coloured feather, affixed to the front.
Achmed's beard is cut short, relative to what it was last time, a
Van Dyke ending in a sharp point. Grey streaks wage a war of
dominance in his beard, but for now the black hair is overpowering
the grey.
"Salaam aleikum!" Achmed chitters excitedly, hands waving
around expressively. "Today I have an interview with the newest
Queen, something seldom granted. This Queen, it is said, is by far
more intelligent than any previous models-- perhaps as smart as the
researchers at Ahriman who designed her. She is said to have a
voracious appetite for books, and is extremely well read."
Image shifts to Achmed sitting on plush chair. Lounging
indolently on facing a couch facing Achmed and the chair is another
figure, definitely female. The female has bright hair, nearly neon
red, and three dots, the colour of fresh bruises, on her forehead.
Two thin, almost locks --but not that thick-- of what is presumably
hair come down from her bangs, drooping down to her chin and
offering a strange contrast to her dark olive skin. Legs encased
in, or rather made of, something akin to dark, shiny ceramic, black
with a band of ochre mear the top, around mid-thigh, where it
becomes the same colour/texture as the skin. A bare midriff, with
another shell covering her chest, puffing out and adorned with a
mottled orange and dull black design, the shell covered any
indication of mammaries. The shell encircled the torso and the from
the back of is a translucent, gossamer cape stretched out down to
the ends of her feet.
"Welcome, Achmed ibn Ammar. So pleased to see you, finally,"
the woman says, her voice smooth as silk. A small lump exists on
either side of her mouth, reminiscent of Diba's mandibles.
"Greetings, Queen. Are you ready for the interview?"
"I've been waiting for it for a long time."
"You flatter me, Queen."
"Oh no, I've been looking forward to this moment for a long
time. Are we broadcasting live?" she says, soft and seductive and
sinister.
Achmed nods.
"Ah, good then." The Queen stands up, looking directly at what
would probably be the recording device, or one of the recording
devices, since it is fully three-dimensional, after all, which
focuses on her and her image alone. Achmed is nowhere to be seen.
"I, whom you have named the Queen, the mother of the Bigrom
peoples, take my own name now, in honour of the first Queen. I am
Diva." She closes her eyes dramatically, and when she opens them
again her face is different. No longer calm, no longer seductive,
it is pure and unadulterated outrage-- the Prophet in the wilds raging
against corruption.
"My people, my children whom you have called Bigrom, whom you
refer derisively as Bugs, have been mistreated. Very well then, we
shall take your name and make it our own. We shall be the Bugrom,
now and forever.
"No, we are not human, but does that give you any more right to
treat us harshly? Yes, you created us, but does that mean you have
the rigt to do with us as you will? Must my children carry weapons
for you, soldier for you, die for you against each other in your
wars? Must my children die for you in unsafe workplaces which you
would never even think of sending a human into? Must my children
slave for you? bear your burdens and your scorn? I would cry an
ocean of tears, if you gave me the ability to manufacture them.
"We are alive! We think! We feel! We are more than some
machine! We have eyes with which to see how you treat us, brains to
realise this inequality, hearts to feel it! Prick us and do we not
bleed? We are treated worse than any slave in history, and you, you
created us. How will you be judged by your actions against us? Your
sins?
"I say this to you now: no more. No more shall we do your work
for you, no more shall we fight for you, no more shall we die for
you. My children will neither be bought nor sold anymore. We will
work as partners, as equals and nothing less. Until this time, I
take my children to settle other lands, where we will build our own
place for ourselves. Do your own dirty work from now on, because my
children will not do it for you anymore."
The focus zoomed out a bit, and now included a window, which
the Queen went to, opening it. Standing on the windowsill, her
gossamer cape came to life, revealing itself to be a functional set
of wings. She jumped, and was gone.
Achmed's form reappears, writhing and struggling to get out if
his bonds. Hands tied behind his back, and mouth taped shut, Achmed
twists and turns, finally loosening the hastily and badly-tied
ropes enough for him to escape.
Stripping the remaining ropes from himself, Achmed utters to
himself, "That was... unexpected. She somehow has control over
Bigrom, I would hazard to guess, having just been tied up by two
first types."
Achmed flickers out and reappears, somber and in all in black,
except for the turban, which is white. A black opal is affixed to
the front of it though, surrounded by gold, and is the only
ornamentation he is wearing.
"Attempts to reconcile with Diva have failed," Achmed says,
tone dull and lifeless. "Negotiations have failed. A psychological
profile, made from accumulated data during talks and from before,
as well as reviewing her genes, suggests that she is merely using
the treatment of Bigrom as a rallying cry, as an excuse, nothing
more. A ploy for sympathy, to divide us."
Achmed's face contorts into a snarl. "What is worse is that it
is working. Some of our people, the weak-minded, the foolish, the
niave and some of the rebellious or self-serving, go to her even
now. Her, Diva, this, this _Bug_ who conversed often with Padashah
Farquan ibn Almalik, most blessed by Allah, this one whom He
counted as a friend, stabbed him in the back, betrayed him. Never
once did she utter a single complaint about how her progeny was
being treated, never once did she utter a single, unkind word.
Beloved by all, until now.
"The ironic thing is that satellite photos suggest that she's
using her children more brutally and harsher than we would ever
think of, to build her empire, and it is an empire that she wants.
Diva built in a control circuit into her Bugrom, making them obey
her commands above any others. Betrayer. Planned this for years."
Pain fills Achmed's face as he looks up to stifle the forming
tears. "She has upped the ante now. Recently, after two years of
negotiations in which it looked like we might be able o resolve
this peacefully, she broke off talks. _We are not bargaining in
good faith_ she gives as her reason. Duplicity, duplicity, blaming
her faults, her sins, on us. She has even gone so far to say that
her struggle for the rights of her children, if she ever cared for
them, is jihad. I fear that war is inevitable, and she produces
child after child with a speed beyond that which we engineered into
her. That we shall prevail is inevitable, for we have Allah and
justice on our side, but at what cost? at what cost?"
Achmed shakes his head. "We should never have made her, never
made Queens. Basic hive mentality in effect, but they are not
regular insects! They are sentient! She should not have had the
instinct for power!"
Achmed flashes and reappears, beard now more grey than black,
but still in the Van Dyke it was in before. Bright yellow
pantaloons and a long lavender shirt, high-collared and fringed in
vermeillion. No hat this time, just short grey hair, hugging his
skull, but not thinning in the least. Over the shirt is a strange
kind of fur vest, reminiscent of--
"Our latest invention from Ahriman," Achmed says proudly,
tapping the vest. "You can go back to normal now," he says gently.
The vest uncurls and lands on the floor by his feet, resuming
its original form-- a cat.
"A cat, yes, but more than that, living armour. In her normal
form," Achmed picks up the cat and starts petting it gently. She
purrs contentedly and loud enough to be heard clearly. "She
resembles a normal cat, and is in fact just as pervious to injury
as a normal cat, but in her armour form, she becomes extremely
resilient, able to throw off most projectile weapons, and most
energy weapons as well.
"The researchers tell me it has something to do with her shape
and her fur, which apparently diffuses or refracts most forms of
energy. I don't know how she handles kinetic attacks, but I do know
her efficacy, having seen the tests.
"We have used cats because they are already at least
semi-domesticated and familiar to us. Their innate flexibility and
agility make them easier to alter for this purpose than other
animals, such as a dog, even though dogs are more loyal. The
problem with loyalty has been fixed by splicing in this
characteristic from dogs, actually, and the armour cats are quite
friendly. Limited sentience was deemed necessary, for the armour
cat to properly judge threats which its owner might not note.
Limited verbal communication was given for the same reason, right?"
Achmed looks down at the cat he is holding much like a baby, poking
it in its belly playfully.
"Right," the cat says passably.
"A side-effect of the combination sentience and loyalty is that
the armour cat chooses who will wear it as much as the wearer
chooses it, isn't that right... what is you name? What shall we
call you?"
"Oro agree!"
"Oro, hm? I think I like you, Oro."
"Oro like you too!"
Achmed laughs and his image flickers again, reappearing once
more, looking roughly the same age. Oro is being worn over a simple
blue vest, the same colour of the Persian armour cat, and white
pants. The beard is no longer oiled and looks to be in need of a
comb. Achmed's turban is unadorned and dishevelled, matching his
face and his haunted eyes.
"The war... goes badly. They are inumberable. Infiltrators,
sympathisers sabotage us," Achmed rambles distractedly. "We are, we
are losing," he admits, defeated. "Desperate, so desperate. I have
seen the footage of what this Diva will do to us, from cities she
has captured. It is... not to be allowed. We bomb cities she has
captured into oblivion now, destroying everyone and everything in
them, not out of spite, but because it is kinder this way.
"Half formed plans to begin jin production exist, but the
factories had been closed since we no longer use them, and it would
be too late anyway. Tired, tired, I am so tired." Achmed yawns
absently. "Security would be a risk with them anyway, since Diva is
known to be able to communicate long distances with her Bugrom via
radio waves, which we used to give orders to jin. Jamming her
signals do not work either, since she has alternate means of
control: pheromones at close range, and she always gives them
orders before they go out on missions, anyway.
"We are losing, but this, this... I do not know. One last plan,
one final gamble, but still.... The Eye, it was not meant for this,
it is not supposed to be used like that. Modifications on it,
mainly programming, are almost done. One way or another, we shall
not give in, Padashah Farquan ibn Almalik shall never give in,
never give up." Achmed shouts out, "We shall not be swayed by evil
or temptation! Diva called this war jihad, and it is! It is our
struggle against evil, and we will never surrender to it, though it
cost us our lives! Long live Padashah Farquan ibn Almalik, may his
brightness and wisdom guide us through these dark days!"
Achmed fades out, and the disk ends.
Makoto turns to Dr. Schtalubaugh, who was literally dancing a
jig with glee.
"He mentioned the Eye, doctor," Makoto said, thoughtful.
"Did you hear him, Makoto? Did you see him? I would never have
thought, never have suspected, but it makes perfect sense! How else
could they exist? This will, this will.... Scribes! Get me scribes,
and pens, and papers, and, and...," Dr. Schtalubaugh wandered
around his workshop, muttering and occasionally shouting in joy or
annoyance, both eager and impatient.
Makoto just smiled. Achmed mentioned the Eye. Somewhere in the
disks there was likely to be more, and that was enough for him--
for now.
=======================================================================
Some of the creatures, or abilities actually exist. Bacteria which can
breakdown and digest PCBs exist right now (although the product of
natural evolution, and not man-made. We have improved production of the
enzyme, mind you). Self fertilising crops are possible now (one way was
to do something to allow the bacteria which grows on clover roots and
actually 'fixes' the nitrogen in the atmosphere to grow on the roots of
wheat, or whatever. Transfer the symbiotic relationship. A little bit
more recently, we've spliced that ability to fix nitrogen right into
the plants. I'd be more specific, but I'm working on memories around
eight years old.
Interesting to note that the original meaning of the word 'jihad,' in
Arabic at least, did not necessarily mean 'holy war.' A more precise
and literal translation would be 'the struggle against evil.' While a
holy war _could_ be a jihad, the converse is not always true.
Presumably the Queens, or the Divas, have continued altering themselves
and perhaps the rest of the Bugrom even further-- the triple oculars of
the Bugrom are no longer functional, for instance, nor is Diva's
carapace part of her, but instead clothing (parts of it, at least)-- at
least ths can be inferred from the second OAV series. I could not quite
think of a way to work these bits into the narrative (perhaps
Schtalubaugh could mention something about the eyes, but that's about
it).
I'd especially like help with better acronyms and names for the
creatures. Originally, I was just going to have Diba--> Diva and
Bigrom--> Bugrom be corruptions due to time, since I've used that in
the past, but now I think I kind of like the conscious decision I made.
Oro? Couldn't think of anything, and there's this Kenshin calendar in
front of me, right? Well, it is somewhat similar in structure to Ura,
as well I suppose.... Suggestions there would be beneficial, yes? ^_^
Comments, criticisms, suggestions, debates, they're welcome, they're
all welcome.
Well, perhaps I can finally start on the third and final disk, the one
about the Eye, yes? Some hints, especially at the end here, have been
given. Be nice to get it all out before Pioneer releases the second TV
series, which, so I have heard, goes into the past of El Hazard and
will most likely invalidate all my speculations, yes? Ah, c'est la
vie! ^_^
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