VIRAL [varietal] (n/v)
1. Of or pertaining to, or caused by a virus
2. pertaining to the dominant species on Earth, post-invasion; extra-terrestrial origin
SCANNER [skan-er] (n)
1. a device for examining, reading or monitoring something
2. post-viral occupation of human prisoners; to scan earth organisms for signs of evolution, immunity or adaptation to the altered atmosphere.
1
The forest was dead.
Well, almost. There was something here that lived and they had been sent here to destroy it.
The Orb, a small, spherical yellow and red collection of metal and wires floated through the forest, a red light emitting from its digital eye as it scanned for signs of life. Its human companion was nowhere to be seen.
The Orb slowed to a halt in the air and darted to the ground. It had found something; a single rainbow rose.
The rainbow rose itself was beautiful. Its vibrant colours stood proud amidst the dead of the forest. It was bright against the dull background of dirt, the faded green of the dead leaves and the washed brown of the fallen trees. The Orb hovered over the flower and drenched it in red light as it scanned for data.
As The Orb processed the information it was receiving from the rainbow rose, a slit appeared in its side and a small screen was visible. Numbers flashed across the display until it began emitting a sound—BEEP, BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
Vital signs pulsed along the screen embedded in The Orb. It turned its spherical body in the direction of where it believed its human companion would be and found that it was alone.
The Orb spoke. “375, come in.”
But it was met with silence.
“Do you copy me 375? Come in.”
Nothing except the crackle of static. The Orb looked around, searching for the person they were assigned to. It looked lost. Confused. It hovered back to the level of the rainbow rose as another two slits appeared in its metal casing and two small thin metallic arms protruded from it. The Orb scanned the flower again, reached out a small spindly metallic finger and touched the petals.
The Orb spoke again. “375 come in.”
2
The edge of the forest hosts a riverbank. The river is another rare beauty in this forest of the dead. It was calm and peaceful; the current running downstream made it feel alive. The forest itself is a tragedy in contrast with the blue of the water; like Autumn lives here all year round. The trees almost bare, but not quite. The leaves almost dead, but not quite. A world almost dead…but not quite. A world dying….
Aisla ‘Cal’ MacCallister looked out onto the river; the only human for miles around that was gifted with this image of nature. The living river and the dead forest. If she were to see her reflection in the river then she would see a face aged beyond her years and one that remained permanently pensive, framed by hair that was mostly matted to her head by mud. But she cannot see her reflection. Covering her face is a gas mask, her breather, which is bulky and ugly against her slight frame. The gas mask is smeared with dirt as are her trousers, vests, boots and backpack. She thinks about washing the mud away in the river but she doesn’t want to pollute it; it remains one of the only pieces of the world she’s seen that feels free of pollution; manmade and otherwise.
Cal stares out onto the river, taking it all in. The forest surrounding her is silent. Peaceful; a bubble. A world within a world. Nothing breaking or interrupting it. Nothing except the memories; ones she wish she could wash away in the current.
She looks at the view then closes her eyes and remembers the world before; images flooding her mind.
Images drenched in light, bright and colourful. The sounds of happiness and life. A football bouncing slowly towards her as a young boy chases it down to the edge of the forest. He picks it up and looks in Cal’s direction. Cal smiles and waves; her eyes filled with tears in the memory that didn’t exist in the moment. The boy smiles and waves back, stepping forward toward Cal when, above her, a ship she doesn’t recognise appears in the sky. A bright light fills her vision of the forest followed by the rush of an explosion and then—
—Cal opens her eyes again, returning to the present. She wipes a tear from her eyes as the crackle of her radio bursts into life.
“Come in 375. What’s your location?”
Cal sighs, regaining her bearings.
“375, this is HC-225, please report.”
Cal presses a button on the side of her breather. “I’m here.”
“What’s your location?” The Orb replies.
“I’m in transit.”
There’s a silence. Then. “My readings say your static. About a mile out from my location. At the riverbank.”
Cal presses the breather again. “Have you got something to report, or you just checking up on me?”
“I have found something.”
Cal sighs. “OK. Send me your co-ordinates and I’ll be right over. “
“Co-ordinates sent.” A silence and then. “You’re still not moving.”
Cal bites her tongue and takes a deep breath. Then a thought strikes her and she smiles underneath her mask. She dances in spot and raises both middle fingers in the air. “That better?”
“Movement detected, yes.”
Cal shakes her head. “I’m on my way now.”
She turns to go but stops and lingers a moment longer. Taking in the view for the last time and then turns away and walks off.
3
The Orb is continuing to scan the flower as Cal appears through the trees. It looks at her. Cal nods, and takes off her backpack.
“OK, Eight. What have we got?”
The Orb tilts in mid-air. “Eight? My designation is HC-225.”
Cal sighs. “Forget it, H. It was a joke. You’re just a little floating magic 8 ball to me, that’s all. What have you got?”
The Orb returns it’s attention to the flower. “Something interesting.” The Orb tilts toward Cal again. “Are you OK, 375?”
Cal furrows her brow and stares at The Orb. “What did we say about you calling me that? And what did we say about scanning me?”
“If memory serves, you said that I was not to call you that and I was not to scan you.”
“Exactly.”
The Orb tilts its head down; a robotic act of contrition. “I apologise….Cal. It’s how I was programmed.”
Cal, takes her own scanner out from her utility belt and sets it for a reading. It’s an old fashioned handheld model with a screen that projects the data. She always thought it looked like the ones they used to scan your shopping with, before the world went to shit. “Yeah I know. Keep it up though and I’m going to start taking screwdrivers and water guns on these little trips with us.”
She smiles, and glances at The Orb who just stares at her. Cal laughs to herself, shaking her head. “They could really have done with putting a humour setting into you guys.”
“I believe they are working on that.”
Cal shakes her head. “Hmm, we’ll see. I doubt the virals have it on their priority list. Right, what have we got?”
The Orb indicates the flower. “I found this.”
Cal follows tracks her gaze to the location of the flower and gasps. She’s taken aback; another memory she didn’t think she would find in this forest. Slowly, she starts to move towards it, crouching down.
The Orb meanwhile, consults its readings, still hovering above Cal. “It’s something that existed pre-viral invasion and pre-terraforming and it was called—"
“A rainbow rose. I know.”
“You are familiar with it?”
Cal smiles, tears in her eyes. “I am. My god it’s beautiful. I can’t believe something like this has survived. Have you ever seen anything like this before?”
“Negative."
“Course you wouldn’t. They were wiped out with most of our plantlife and wildlife when the virals came down. I never thought I’d see one again, not since before. This was my grandmother’s favourite flower. We gave it to her a few months before she died. She wanted us to start growing them in the bottom of our garden. We never got the chance.”
Cal is lost in herself, staring at the rainbow rose. The Orb hovers down to her level.
“This means something to you.”
Cal just shakes her head, ignoring its ignorance. Its inability to understand. “I can’t believe they’ve survived.”
"Would you like the readings?”
Cal shakes her head. “Just forget the readings, forget our job, forget our world, forget the virals. Forget you. And just look at this. Just breathe it in.”
“I don’t breathe.”
Cal sighs. “Jesus. Then process it, do what you do. But just feel it.”
The Orb does, or at least tries to. It stares at the flower. Then after a moment or two of silence.
“It’s called a rainbow rose, of dutch origin and came about as a result of a manipulation of—"
Cal shakes her head again. ”Forget the facts, just absorb it.”
The Orb tilts at Cal. “And do what with the information?”
“Nothing. Just, feel it. Fall in love with it.”
It tries. It fails. It looks at her. “Interesting.”
“What? You feel it?”
The Orb tilts back to Cal. “No. It’s just interesting. The history. They came into existence as a result of human beings manipulating the flower, changing the atmosphere surrounding the flower and editing human nature, transforming the wildlife for their own purpose.”
Cal balls her hand into a fist. “Don’t say it.”
It ignores her and it says it. “Isn’t that what the virals did?”
She’s silent. Her fists balled. “Don’t ruin this.”
“Don’t you find the similarities striking?”
Cal takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “No. I don’t.”
“Why?”
“Because we did it to express love and hope and happiness. Not to destroy and control and to take over a world.”
The Orb blinks its single digital eye at her. They both stare at each other in silence. Cal breaks the stare first and picks up her backpack. “Come on, we’ve got more sites to visit, before it gets dark. Let’s go.”
The Orb remains. “You haven’t heard the readings yet.”
Cal starts to head off. “We don’t need the readings, let’s just leave it here and come on.”
The Orb remains. “Aren’t you going to follow protocol?”
Cal, irritated now, throws down her backpack and takes out her scanner. “Fine.”
She marches toward it and scans the flower. She reads the screen and her faces falls.
The Orb floats to her shoulder. “The atmosphere is polluted with viral toxins and oxygen substitute. Rainbow Rose shows signs of immunity and evolution to the new viral atmosphere.”
Cal doesn’t respond. She just stares at the reading.
The Orb continues. “You know what that means.”
Cal turns her gaze to her floating companion. “It doesn’t mean shit. Could be just an air pocket.”
The Orb remains stoic in its gaze on Cal. “You know what we have to do.”
Cal steps back. “I’m prepared to leave it.”
“That’s not our job.”
Cal looks away. She knows she’s beat.
The Orb continues. “Our directive clearly states--
Cal throws her arms in the air. “--here we fucking go—"
“—Any organisms, lifeforms or air patterns that existed pre-viral atmosphere that appear to have either adapted, evolved or grown immune to the terraformed viral atmosphere pose a threat and must be destroyed and a re-terraforming technique used. Anything that breathed the human air pre-invasion that breathes the new air shows a hope for humanity to adapt and evolve. Must be destroyed.”
Cal just stares away, can’t even look in its direction; the Orb or the rainbow rose.
The Orb floats round to find Cal’s line of sight. “Do you—“
Cal pushes The Orb away, takes out a canister from her utility belt and marches toward the flower. “Fuck you and the directive.”
She crouches down and jams the canister into place at the base of the Rainbow Rose. She presses a button on it and walks away, past The Orb and away into the trees.
Th Orb remains behind, watching the flower as the canister emits a solitary BEEP followed by a PPPFFFT—
—as a puff of gas sprays out and covers the area, clouding the rainbow rose from sight.
As the gas starts to dissipate, The Orb looks to where the rainbow rose once stood tall and colourful. It has now been replaced with a limp and lifeless flower.
The Orb stares at it for sometime. Then it floats down and scans it again. The vital signs that displayed signs of life on the screen in the slit of its side now confirm that no signs of life exist.
Before The Orb floats away to rejoin Cal, it looks at the dead flower. It hovers close and the tiny metal arms protrudes from its side again. The Orb’s spindly metal finger reaches out and touches the flower.
A single petal falls. The Orb catches it, examines it and then retracts it, storing it inside their metal casing.
The Orb lingers for a moment, tilts its head down and floats away, leaving the flower to rest in the dead forest.
Dùil is a Scottish Gaelic word for hope; pronounced duːl. It also means expectation, expectancy, prospect, intention, thought. Another translation also indicates that it means element, animal, being, creature, poor creature, critter.
It made it the perfect word for this short science fiction story; a short story set in Scotland against the backdrop of a future world invaded and destroyed by an alien race. The story is about hope. It is about intention and thought. It is also about elements, being and poor creatures. But the main takeaway I hope you find is that it is an entertaining and emotional story; if it has another layer there for you to peel away then that’s always a bonus.
This is the first new short story I’ve written in a while. It’s based on a short film script I wrote a number of years ago and has set gathering digital dust on my desktop. Having this Substack inspired me to take it out and rework it into a short story.
I love this story and the characters within - although there are only two of them. It’s one I’ve kept coming back to over the years. It also is immensely personal; the rainbow rose was my Gran’s favourite flower. Or at least one of.
I hope you enjoy reading and spending time in this world as much as I have writing it.
Update: 20/08/2023
This was originally a standalone short story. The response to it has been amazing and resulted in me thinking about it more and more. Eventually, I felt that there was more to the story than what I had written. I found myself drawn back to the characters and the world with a compelling reason to continue the story. And continue the story I have…
This serves as Part One of the story, with Part Two of the story to be published on 25/08/2023.
I daresay Part Two will be the final part of the story, but you never know. Maybe there’s a larger story in there waiting to be written. But I have works in progress I need to turn my care and attention to in order to get them over the finish line. However, I will always have these characters and this world to return to. Thank you for reading.
A single rainbow rose survived the fall.
It's alive, it's vibrant, it's whole
But it must be destroyed
Before it brings out hope.
Really liked this! Great atmosphere and sense of place in the forest, and a pervasive sense of loss throughout the whole story. Just enough details to create intrigue and interest in the setting, without it getting bogged down in details and explanations.
Nicely done.