Carrelia

Article by R. K. Wigal

Chance Munro awoke to the brisk chill of the morning air, compliments of Mammalandia's northern climes.  The sun, just above the horizon, was providing plenty of light but almost no warmth.  Brack was already up and about preparing breakfast.  The aroma was familiar to Chance.  He'd grown up with it.  "My mother used to fix me oat cereal in the mornings when I was a boy.  I can still hear her humming by the wood stove."  Chance, unaware, was smiling.  "I'll get the coffee started."

"We didn't have oats back home originally.  We didn't have corn either.  We imported those from Earth...quite recently, actually.  We already have wheat grains and barley grains similar to yours.  We have some of our own grains as well.  Floess makes some very nice desserts, especially puddings to cakes, and renso makes a very tasty soup that's high in protein."

"Your mention of 'back home' has just caused me to realize that I've been so mesmerized by this tour you've got me on, I never thought to ask you where you're from.  Where exactly is 'back home'?"

"Of course.  Forgive me.  My home planet's name is Valera.  We'll be visiting there fairly soon.  Valera orbits a star we call Tannus; she is the fourth of seven planets that orbit our star, which is much like your sun.  Your astronomers do not yet know of Tannus' existence.  First things first, though.  Our next stop, as I said yesterday, is the planet Carrelia.  It's not a pleasant place."

Chance raised an eyebrow, "What can you tell me about it?"

"Your seeing will be better than my telling.  That's all I'm going to say."

Chance and Brack finished the rest of their breakfast in silence, both savoring the oat cereal and the coffee.  They both picked up after themselves, leaving their camp site as pristine as when they arrived.  The dishes were done in seconds in the ship's autolave.  Shiloh and Cassiopeia were returned their adjoining stall-compartments.  Brack secured the hatch, powered up the craft, and they were again headed deep into space.

Chance peered out the view port transfixed in awe.  The sky was so vividly ablaze with stars in the blackness of space he felt it was beyond amazing!  He'd seen many night skies brilliant with stars on Earth, but nothing to compare with what he was looking at now!  "Brack, this is incredible!"

"Yes, and it never gets old.  Every time I see this, it overwhelms me with awe!  When you look at the Milky Way there, do you know what you're looking at?"

"I have no idea."

"Chance, you are looking at the very edge of a great island universe, a galaxy, made up of billions and billions of stars.  Your own Earth is a part of that galaxy, The Milky Way.  What's more, there are many such galaxies throughout the greater universe, billions upon billions of them."

"Wow!  I don't know what to say!  That's absolutely incomprehensible!"

"To me as well, my friend, to me as well."

Chance Munroe had always had an appreciation for the cosmos.  His newly acquired knowledge increased that appreciation immensely.  He peered at the sky for several minutes more.

* * * * *

Both men napped.  Hours passed.  Then a chime sounded alerting Brack.  "Wake up, Chance!  We're almost there!"

Chance came awake, stood up and looked out the view port.  The planet they were approaching was not what he had anticipated.  The landscape was brown and mottled; there was not a hint of green.  The dark, opaque seas looked more like tar than water.  The very air was a thick, amber haze.  "Is there anything alive down there?"

Brack didn't answer the question.  Instead, he handed Chance the encounter suit he had worn on the moon.  "Put this on.  We're going to land.  Be very careful not to puncture your suit when we're on the surface.  The air is highly acidic. You don't want to breathe it in or expose your skin to it."

This puzzled Chance and piqued his curiosity.  He knew he would find his answers soon enough.  He donned his encounter suit as Brack set the ship on the ground.  Once down, Brack put on his own.  When they exited the craft, Brack touched a device strapped to his left wrist and the hatch closed behind them.  He opened his arms wide and said, "Welcome to Trusca, capital city of the planet Carrelia!"

Chance Munro looked about him.  The first thing he noticed in the open area where they had landed were the dead trees, some still standing, most lying broken on the dull, lifeless ground.

"This was a public park.  Families picnicked here.  Children played here."  Brack's tone was somber.  "This way," he said.  "C'mon."

They exited the park and crossed what had once been a well-kept and well-traveled boulevard.  Chance saw that he was standing in the midst of what had once been a thriving, bustling city, now in the advanced stages of decay.  Where there had once been streets and sidewalks, there was only crumbling asphalt and concrete rubble.  Here and there up and down the streets were the remnants of a few vehicles of some sort, corroded nearly beyond recognition, their broken wheels half buried in the rubble.  Once great and tall steel buildings were but skeletons of their former selves, their facades pockmarked as if having suffered a monstrous plague.  Jagged pieces of metal and broken shards of glass stuck out threateningly everywhere.  There was a sheen on the fabric of his suit that had condensed from the almost oil-like haze that pervaded the atmosphere.  Chance understood Brack's admonition to be careful not to allow his encounter suit to become punctured.  "What happened here, Brack?"

"Before I answer your question, there is one more thing you need to see."  He led Chance to a building that was a twenty-minute walk away.  "Remember, be careful and don't touch anything!"  Inside, on the ground floor, were a dozen beds.  On every bed lay the emaciated skeleton of what had once been a living, human-like being.  "This was a very fine hospital at one time," Brack explained.

"I don't understand.  This reminds me of the fields of battle I was in not so very long ago.  Was there a war here?"  Chance couldn't help being moved by what he saw.

"One might think so but this was not the result of war.  This was once a great industrial society, much as your own United States of America is becoming a mighty industrial nation.  Products of every sort were manufactured here, products of convenience that made life very easy and pleasant.  There were machines for doing the laundry.  There were devices in the home with which people could watch plays, sporting events, concerts, even news programs.  Houses were cooled on hot days, heated on cold days, and lit year round, all by electricity.  Materials were developed to take the place of paper, wood and metals.  Chemicals were developed for cleaning, gardening, painting and much more.  There were vehicles for traveling throughout the city and for traveling from city to city powered by mechanical engines.  There were flying machines that carried many people great distances.  Manned space vehicles had begun circling the planet in high orbits.  Factories operated day and night producing everything imaginable.  The people wanted for nothing.  Everything was inexpensive and readily available."

"But something went wrong," Chance remarked somberly.

"Something went very wrong.  You see, when factories produce goods and services, some of what they produce can be harmful to the environment.  For example, some chemicals can damage compounds in the atmosphere that protect against certain kinds of radiation.  Factories also produce waste products and these are almost always harmful.  When left to themselves, they can cause untold amounts of damage.  However, many of them can be treated and rendered safe, or they can disposed of safely, but the problem is that doing so can be very costly.  And those harmful products that cannot be dealt with safely should not be produced in the first place."

"I think I'm beginning to understand," Chance said.

"Carrelia, and ultimately her destiny, was controlled by the manufacturers.  They were not willing to undergo the added expense to manufacture safe products safely.  They felt such expenses would be prohibitive.  Neither were they willing to remove any products for any reason; there were simply no unsafe products in their mind's eye.  The people, unable to live without their conveniences, supported the manufacturers.  Oh, there were some dissenters, but they were small in number and voice.  So solid waste was buried under ground, liquids were allowed drain into the rivers, lakes and oceans, and gasses were released freely into the atmosphere.  Many waste gasses combined with the moisture in the atmosphere and began falling as acid rain.  The liquid waste contaminated the waterways.  The acid rain that fell leached through the soil and through the buried solid waste contaminating the ground water table.  As manufacturing increased over time, so did the acidity of the rain.  The acid rain appears to have been the trigger for something completely unexpected."

"Something deadly," Chance offered.

"Something deadly indeed," Brack affirmed, "but exactly what is not known.  What is suspected is that the acid rain leached down through the deep soil layer, little by little, until it eventually reached the rocks beneath the soil.  The acid reacted with something in the rocky layer, most likely a rare mineral, producing an extremely corrosive gas that rose up and very quickly poisoned the atmosphere.  The gas caused an increase in the acid rain, and the acid rain produced increasingly more of the gas, compounding the process.  Decay, corrosion and death were the result.  Carrelia's total demise was inescapable."

"how many people were living here," Chance asked.

"Two and a half billion," Brack replied.

"My God!  So many people!  I can't even imagine... How long ago did this happen?"

"A little over two hundred Earth years ago," Brack told him.

"Were there any survivors at all?"

"Actually, there were."

"How!?  How many?"  Chance couldn't believe it.

"Two families, each with three children, managed to commandeer a space orbiting vehicle.  They took it away from a manufacturing czar and his pilot.  The ship was built for four; they were ten.  Still, they were able to break free of the planet, but it took all of their fuel to do so.  They had no idea where they were going.  They fully expected to die in space, but that was far more preferable to them than the agonizing death they would have suffered on the planet."

"What happened to them?"

"A research vessel happened upon them.  Its pilot realized they were in trouble and arranged their rescue.  The research vessel was from the planet Valera," Brack explained.

"Valera as in 'back home’.  Nice!"

"The Carrelians offered to stand in judgment for having taken their ship the way they did, but our people told them that Carrelia was well outside Valera's realm of jurisprudence.  They did qualify that, however, by saying that if anyone came from Carrelia and wished to press charges against them, the Valeran judiciary would take such charges under advisement."

"It seems to me," Chance mused aloud, "that what happened to Carrelia could happen to Earth.  Many tribes of Indians in America believe that the Earth is a living being, their Mother Earth.  They believe she should be treated with respect.  I agree with them."

"They are right," Brack agreed, "and so it should be with all planets."

* * * * *

Back on board Brack's ship, the two men entered a cleansing bay.  A showering spray cleaned their suits with an alkali solution that neutralized the acid that had accumulated on them.  They then doffed and stowed their suits and went to the flight control deck where Brack set the ship in motion.  "Our next stop," he said, "is one I think you will like."

Chance took his seat, leaned back and closed his eyes.  "As long as we don't have to dress for the occasion, I'll be satisfied," he replied.