Word: Atoll

 

atoll

[ at-awl, -ol, -ohl, uh-tawl, uh-tol, uh-tohl ]

noun

a ring-shaped coral reef or a string of closely spaced small coral islands, enclosing or nearly enclosing a shallow lagoon.

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               Jack stirred. The sun was warm on his skin, and the ocean air was fresh. Warm, fine sand cushioned him gently as he started to wake up. As the seconds passed and his mind started working, his eyes darted open and he sat bolt upright. He looked around, seeing he was on a sandy beach.

               The ocean lapped at the sand in one direction. From the other, he could barely make out a small rise in the land, although he could not tell how far away it was. It looked like the land was fairly level, but started to slope downwards a few hundred feet away.

               He rushed inland and stopped, taking in his current environment. He was not on an island. The land surrounded a large pool of crystal-clear water. An atoll then. Jack looked around, seeing the beach surrounded by ocean and surrounding the lagoon. He had no idea where he was, or how he had gotten there.

               He began jogging around the ring of land, searching for any hint of where he was. All he found was sand and some small grasses. His heart pounded in his chest, and his arms began to shake. There was no hint of anything. No boat, no plane, no signs. Not even footprints in the sand other than his. And as he made the loop, he discovered something else. He was alone. Completely alone on a relatively small ring of sand and water.

               His knees gave out from under him, and he lay in the warm sand. His mind raced, thinking of what had happened. Nothing had been out of the ordinary. He had gotten up, went to work, went home. He had not gotten any phone calls, nor were there any unusual emails. Absolutely nothing to indicate how he had gotten where he was.

               He curled up and shook, suddenly feeling cold despite the warm sun. He barely kept panicked tears from coming. He lost track of time as his mind raced, running through everything that was probably going to happen. He would starve to death, or he would get sun stroke, or any number of other ways he could die. All that was certain was that he would be dying alone in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by ocean.

               At some point, something inside of his mind clicked. He clenched his fists and looked at his surroundings. He was going to die, that was certain. But how was that different from any other time? Even at home, a random drunk driver could end his life in an instant. He could not let that control him. For now, he needed to figure out what to do to survive as long as possible. If the lagoon held fresh water, he was set there. Food was next. He could go into the calm water and see if there were fish. Even some seaweeds were edible, so that was possible. Shelter would be harder. The first big storm that came through and he was done. There were no trees around, so maybe digging one out of the sand?

               He went through the many, many things he needed to do. Once he had a solid list, he stood. It was time to get to work. He would find a way to either escape the atoll or find a way to signal help. But for those to happen, he had to survive first. He took a breath of the salty air and got to work.

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If you do a search for atoll, you come up with some really nice pictures.  Really pretty environments. That has nothing to do with the story, but it's nice to know.

Word: Eradicate

 

eradicate

[ ih-rad-i-keyt ]

 

verb (used with object), e·rad·i·cat·ed, e·rad·i·cat·ing.

1. to remove or destroy utterly; extirpate: to eradicate smallpox throughout the world.

2. to erase by rubbing or by means of a chemical solvent: to eradicate a spot.

3. to pull up by the roots: to eradicate weeds.

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               The first speaker of the day climbed onto the dais. His image was projected onto holo screens in front of every member of the Council, and his voice would be automatically put through the needed translations. He looked around at the wide range of beings assembled there. He wondered how many of them would accept his proposal.

               “To all beings of this Council.” He began, having already been introduced and accepted by the chairman. “We all know of the recent problem civilized space has been facing. A species who spreads rapidly, destroys and takes without care, and leaves entire planets dead and baren. The humans, as they call themselves, are an invasive species of the highest order. They do not care about anything but themselves and their own progress, and have left dozens of minor species destitute. We must deal with this threat now, before it gets any worse than it already has.”

               The other members of the Council gave their various forms of verbal and non-verbal agreement. That was encouraging, but not surprising. All of the Council’s member species had been having trouble with the upstart race. But his proposal was extreme. Not all of them would accept it as the necessity it was.

               One of the other Council members spoke. “I assume you have a solution? Maybe a blockade around their planet? Increase galactic tariffs to encourage them to stay in their solar system?”

               “No. I’m afraid not.” He said. “Those solutions might work for a time. But humans have proven to cleaver and resourceful for be held back by such things for long. It is in their nature to spread, and merely keeping them contained is a poor attempt to keep them in check.”

               “So what do you propose?” Another member asked.

               “Eradication. Total. Complete. Wipe out their species, down to the last individual.” The hall filled with whispers and muttered conversations. It was certainly an extreme measure. But a necessary one. But now came the biggest problem. “And, for this purpose, I request the Council authorize the one time use of Weapon T-572.”

               All conversation came to a stop. All methods of visual observation of on him. He was not surprised by this. He expected outrage at even considering such an option next. Instead, the chairman spoke.

               “I assume you know what you are asking, yes?”

               “Yes, chairman, I do. The use of Weapon T-572 has only been authorized once since its creation, and, as it can wipe out an entire planet, its use requires a unanimous vote from this Council.”

               “And why do you thin these humans warrant such a vote?”

               “Because they are one of the greatest threats to galactic stability ever known. They consume, destroy, and take without thought or care. They spread without thought to others, and are quick to fight with even the slightest provocation. If left unchecked, they could lead to the destruction of dozens, if not hundreds, of worlds. They must be stopped, and Weapon T-572 is the best way of doing this. Yes, some will escape. Those who are currently off-world will not be destroyed. But they will be weak, without support or resources. They will be easy to completely eradicate once their home world is gone. All of you know the threat this species poses. All of you know what needs to be done.”

               And with that, he stepped down off the dais. He was transported back to his specie’s viewing platform. The vote was called, and he immediately voted yes. The others would take their time to deliberate and decide. He was not expecting success right now. The use of that particular weapon was far too extreme for this meeting. But he would wait a few more cycles. Let the humans do what they were best at. And then they would see. They would see he had been right. And next time, they would all vote Yes.

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 Incoming (totally not a) Death Star!!!! Better hope this thing has a small thermal exhaust port right above the main port.

Word: Stewardship

 

stewardship

[ stoo-erd-ship, styoo- ]

 

noun

1. the position and duties of a steward, a person who acts as the surrogate of another or others, especially by managing property, financial affairs, an estate, etc.

2. the responsible overseeing and protection of something considered worth caring for and preserving: New regulatory changes will result in better stewardship of lands that are crucial for open space and wildlife habitat.

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               The Steward of the House watched from a space no mortal could see. He had long overseen the safety and well being of the House and its land. Even after his first master had died, he had continued his stewardship. And he would not rest so long as the House still stood. For it was his sacred task. A task he would never fail.

               But now the House was lonely. He was lonely. He needed a new master. The House needed new residents. New people he could swear his loyalty to. So far, the offerings had been poor. There had been people, known in modern times as real estate agents, who had tried to sell the House to inferior people. The Steward would never allow that to happen, and so he invoked his right as guardian to drive them off. Now he observed another group who sought to claim the House.

               The agent came with two people, a man and a woman. Both were young and seemed fit. The agent spoke.

               “Now, this is a real prize winner. A real piece of history. It’s literally older than the country, since it was built way back in the late 1600s. How’s that for historic?”

               “Amazing.” The man said. “We’re both pretty big on history, so being able to own something that’s seen so much of it is like a dream come true.”

               Learned people. That was good. Intelligent people were far better masters than those who were dim witted. And these two seemed to be able to appreciate the House and all that it stood for. The agent continued talking, telling the family about the House and the various rooms.

               “Is it all original?” The woman asked.

               “Most of it.” The agent said. “It’s been brought up to modern code, of course. You can tell that easily just by the electric lights. But just about everything you can actually see is either original or a refurbished version of the original.”

               The woman let out a low whistle and ran her hands over the wood. The Steward had had mixed feelings about granting those men the rights to change the House. But he had to admit they had done a good job, and the newer installations did help keep its longevity intact. He nodded as he watched the tour, noting the couple’s reactions to the agent.

               “So, you two have any kids or pets?”

               “We have a two year old boy.” The man said proudly. “He’s home with grandma now.”

               “We also have a husky.” The woman said. “He’s a total sweet heart. We know he needs a lot of space to run around though, and our old place was just too small. This is a lot bigger, so he should be a lot happier here.”

               A, a fine thing. An heir, should they prove worthy, and an ever loyal dog. He had seen many with both of those things, but from these two he felt much more life and warmth. The Steward peered beyond the mortal world, and viewed their spirits.

               They were not perfect. But even his previous master was not without flaws. The man had a deep seeded violent streak, but the Steward could tell it was well tamed. Probably by those modern fictional combat methods, or athletic endeavors. The woman held others to standards that were too high for most. Not quite a perfectionist, but she seemed to want to bring out more than most people could give. That could be an issue, but it did not seem she did so out of malice, but a sincere belief that those around her could live up to her lofty expectations.

               The Steward of the House considered. These two were not perfect. But no man ever was. And they were the closest thing to being worthy of the House that he had yet seen. Perhaps they would do. Perhaps they would be worthy masters for his Stewardship. Should they obtain the House, he would watch and see if they were worthy. If they were, he would reveal himself and swear his loyalty. If they were not, he would drive them out and return to the search. That was the way of it, and that was the way it would always be. Until he found a new master of the House.

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After writing this story, I get the feeling I've written something similar to it in the past. Oh well, it's written now and I'm not changing it. So there, ha ha.