Eggs Gone Bad

Prologue



         The Universe is a very big place. It’s not difficult to understand why it has to be so big seeing as it contains everything that has ever existed. A human mind can barely begin to comprehend the unbelievable immensity of the Universe. If this was to happen the resulting overwhelming feeling of insignificance would force that person to crawl into a corner and die.

Somewhere in all this vastness is a planet called Colabar.



         Colabar and, most particularly, its inhabitants, are totally, completely, entirely and utterly different from anything that you and I are familiar with. To start with, Colabar isn’t really a planet, but the satellite of two other planets. It follows a figure-of-eight path around, and in between, these two other planets. Before you start wondering how this is possible, please understand that on this side of The Universe, the laws of science are unlike anything you can read in any physics, chemistry or biology book found on planet Earth. Trying to explain any of this would simply confuse you and get in the way of my story-telling. If I were you I wouldn’t worry too much about this and just continue with the rest of the story.



         The geographical features of Colabar are largely dominated by endless prairies, small hills and green rivers and lakes. Green is a very persistent color throughout the whole planet, mostly because of the high chlorine content in the atmosphere. The majority of the inhabitants of Colabar live in small villages nestled comfortably in the valleys or perched along the hillsides.



         Now, this particular story occurred in Ambuter, a village situated near the top of a particularly hilly area. Every house in Ambuter faces the beautiful Lake of The East and each morning the residents can enjoy the elaborate mating rituals of the great Gindyfar beasts which splash around for hours until the female leaps into the air and explodes in a multicolored shower of eggs which, incidentally, make delicious canapés.

The inhabitants of Colabar were called Ambutes. The fact that the word “Ambutes” and “Ambuter” are similar is a mere coincidence and doesn’t have anything to do with the story so that’s another thing that you shouldn’t try and understand. Having said that, they don’t really call themselves Ambutes for the simple reason that these creatures are unable to articulate words in a way that a human being can understand. For example the word “Ambute” is communicated by a series of grunts, screeches and belches so that it sounds, more or less, like this: “Grumhpgraaaigrraiagrumpheeeegraagr”. To make things more clear, I’ll give you another example; the phrase “I don’t feel like waking up early tomorrow so please can you switch off the alarm clock or, better still, why not flush it down the toilet?” would sound exactly like this: “Arrgh iiich!”. However we’d better refer to them as Ambutes so as not to get you confused.

I don’t really know where all these alien nouns originated from. Probably it has got a lot to do with the strange laws of physics I mentioned earlier.



         These ambiguous but (dare I say it?) cute looking creatures started out their existence as pink weightless particles which floated around the atmosphere of Colabar. Sometime in history, these lifeless particles decided to land on the surface of Colabar and realized that this was so much better than their airborne existence that they immediately grew in size and sprouted a pair of eyes each. They also found it very convenient to open a gash somewhere below their eyes so that they could easily stuff into it any object that they happened to come across, including other Ambutes. Afterwards, their bodies conveniently processed these ingested objects and used the energy stored inside them to do any Ambute thing that they felt like doing. Ingenious isn’t it?



         Some of the Ambutes’ favorite pastimes include chasing their own shadow, searching for interesting looking stones, doing research on quantum physics and digging holes. They also enjoy ending each others’ lives. This hobby was particularly popular in medieval times which, strangely enough, coincided with the medieval times on planet Earth. They came up with many different excuses to justify their murderous ways of life. Some Ambutes for instance decided that a good reason to hunt other Ambutes was to look for the ones who reflected no colors from the visible spectrum of light. These types of Ambutes were often rounded up behind bars on Friday nights and beaten to a mushy pulp. Twenty-seven-toothed Ambutes were also a very popular target.



         The Ambute species is mostly renowned for producing the best Philosophers in the entire Universe. For instance, they were the first creatures in all the Galaxies to realize that the existence of Colabar was what held together the very fabric of the Universe. If Colabar was ever destroyed, everything else contained in the Universe would simply cease to exist. This piece of knowledge is commonly referred to as “The Truth”. The very knowledge of The Truth is enough to make all Ambutes wake up early each morning with a smile on their snout. Any Ambute who disagreed with The Truth was usually beaten up behind a bar on a Friday night.



         All Ambutes are asexual. This wasn’t always the case; in fact, at the beginning of the medieval period there were both male and female Ambutes. However it became popularly known that mating was extremely wrong and so everyone had to stop doing it. There was the occasional non-conformist who disagreed with this but a quick meeting behind a bar quickly resolved any real issues. This went on for many years by which time the Ambute race was near extinction. Fortunately a radioactive meteor landed on planet Colabar and altered the genetic makeup of the Ambutes so that they could reproduce asexually. Reproduction happened through parthenogenesis in which any Ambute is able to lay eggs which hatch without the need for them to be fertilized. This allowed the Ambute race to proliferate again without the need to go through the hassle of copulation rituals.



         Another thing that I have to mention is that Ambutes are terrified of budgerigars and they frequently wake up in the middle of the night, screaming their heads off after having horrible nightmares about budgies attacking planet Colabar and eating every single Ambute. This piece of information is particularly strange since budgies do not, and have never existed on planet Colabar.









Chapter 1



         Atinelle woke up to the sound of its own screams. The nightmares about budgies were becoming more frequent and no amount of curgish tea was producing the advertised “A dreamless sleep makes a happier Ambute” effect. Atinelle slid out of bed and bounced slowly towards its front door, onto the newly white-washed porch and took a deep breath. The air smelled of grass and swimming pools and a faint smell of fresh paint still lingered. Atinelle admired its own handiwork. All the nooks and crannies in the balusters and brackets supporting the wooden roof had been given special attention and the pristine white produced a nice contrast against the heavy purple of the rest of the house.

         The sounds of splashing and loud grunting from the lake caught Atinelle’s attention. It watched as two particularly large Gindyfar beasts trashed around in the water. Occasionally a foot broke the surface of the water and then was quickly pulled back under. Atinelle tried to understand what it would feel like if some chemical reaction in its body compelled it to couple up with another Ambute and perform such disgusting and life-threatening antics. A particularly loud splash interrupted its train of thought. Atinelle looked up and for a brief moment caught a glimpse of the huge female Gindyfar poised in midair, her head thrown back and all her limbs held out rigidly. She twisted her body sideways and, just as she was falling back down in the lake, she exploded in a misty rainbow of eggs which sparkled in the morning sunlight. Huge lumps of flesh rained down in the river and the colorful cloud of eggs drifted slowly in the wind. Many of the eggs would float in large clumps towards the shores and the newly hatched Ambutes would be sent to collect them.

         Another female Gindyfar beast exploded in the distance. Atinelle always felt a bit sad after seeing the mating ritual. Nature was so cruel sometimes. It wondered about the fact that in just five months, the Council would send the letter instructing it to lay its first egg. Laying an egg was painful and dangerous. Atinelle’s childhood friend, Cileon, had died the year before while laying its third egg. Atinelle was so afraid, but the promise of all the joys and responsibilities that came with parenthood was surely worth all the risks. However Atinelle couldn’t help but wonder if the main purpose of life was simply to assist in the continuation of its species. It all felt so ordinary, so mundane and unimportant. Atinelle wanted to do more than just reproduce and die, because, surely, there was nothing worse than being ordinary; nothing worse than being a brief blip on the history radar.

          Atinelle bounced slowly back to its house and started preparing breakfast. Soon the morning air was infused with the mouth-watering smell of sizzling pinoka flowers. Atinelle watched as the fleshy petals curled slowly in the heat and turned from yellow to golden brown. Preparing a proper breakfast was a luxury that had to be given up in a few months time. Tending to an egg was a responsibility that required constant attention and parents had to sit on the egg for two whole months. Most Ambutes chose to build the nest near the bathroom so as to minimize the amount of time away from the egg. If for some reason the egg did not hatch, the council would order another laying.

         Atinelle tried not to think about the fact that parenting would also replace its current job. Landing a job in one of the local greenhouses was one of the best things that had ever happened to it. There was something special about the earthy smell that greeted its nostrils every morning; about watching seedlings grow into sturdy trees. Giving up this job would also mean that Atinelle would not be able to meet its friends on a regular basis. Most new parents received frequent visits the first few weeks but usually friends didn’t stick long enough after that. Atinelle had no doubt that its bundle of joy would alienate it from its circle of acquaintances. It gritted its small teeth angrily and stomped loudly out of its house leaving its breakfast untouched on the table.



          Atinelle bounced towards its blue flier which was hovering silently in the driveway. The morning dew glistened on the shiny domed roof and small droplets slid quickly down the sides and onto the lawn below. As Atinelle approached the flier, the proximity sensors released the latch holding the door and a relaxing tune started playing softly. Atinelle jabbed impatiently at the controls to switch off the music. It was going to take more than some songs to lift its bad mood. It screeched out the coordinates into the speaker.

          ‘Gelav’s Greenhouse Nursery.’

          The small monitor on the speaker remained blank for a couple of seconds.

          ‘Please input your coordinates again,’ read the display.

          Atinelle drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was going to be a long day. It put its mouth to the speaker again.

          ‘Gelav’s Greenhouse Nursery…Please,’ added Atinelle with strained patience.

         The door immediately slid down again and the ion-engine buzzed with life. As the flier floated upwards, Atinelle watched down at its house. The sight of the glistening porch brought an unexpected smile to its snout.

 

 

A big thank you goes to all those who are sending me feedback and encouraging me to continue writing. This has been a great learning experience so far. I’ll start working on Chapter 2 tomorrow 



Please understand that English is not my first language and I’m not a writer. This is just something I’m doing in my free time...that should be enough as an excuse for my below-average-writing.

I have the whole story planned out and would write the whole thing if I knew that there are people out there who would be interested in reading the novel.

If you want to read more or just offer some moral support follow me on Twitter: http://twitter.com/jesmmifs and tweet me something nice… 