Children of Taunis

Chapter 1

Muriel Stiggens sat on the top of the great pyramid that overlooked the city of New Omaha. It shined like a diamond beneath the night sky while surrounded by the trees. She glanced up to the two moons that sat high in the sky, perched like a pair of cockatiels on a high branch. Her long blond hair whipped in the slight breeze as she stared down at the city. While the great pyramid was large, no one climbed them anymore in the 150 years since the original settlers crash landed on the planet.

Her mind wandered back to the History class in school. She could see the scuffed hardwood floors of the classroom, the many tables and chairs made of shiny tubular aluminum, and finally standing like a monolith was Mr. Carroll's desk. Sat at his desk was Mr. Carroll himself. He was a slender man with wiry black hair and a neatly trimmed mustache. His wide face was beset upon with the most unfortunate-looking pair of wireframe glasses. She could hear him opening the deep drawers of the desk to retrieve the chalk from the drawer as he turned to the chalkboard.

"So, Class," he said in a voice that was several octaves higher than you'd think, "we're to begin our studies today of post-Earth expeditions. As you learned last week, the Genesis was one of fifteen colony ships that left Earth in the Great Unfounding. Does anyone remember why the Great Founding took place?" He asked, his eyes scanning the crowd to find one particular hand. Muriel looked around to see if anyone else knew the answer. She tried to hide herself behind her heavy desk as his eyes connected with hers.

"Muriel, perhaps you can tell the rest of the class why the Great Unfounding happened?" A wave of cold dread coursed through her body as she wracked her brain to remember the answer.

"B-because we made it uninhabitable?" She asked slowly as she looked for any response from Mr. Carroll's face.

"It's technically correct, children, but there's another reason. Uninhabitability is just one of the answers that philosopher Yerald Rousseau pointed out. Another reason was overpopulation. That's what drove the mass panic of the 22nd and 23rd centuries. As you remember from last week, the Genesis was the first of these great ships, colony ships, if you will. It left Earth in 2315. Does anyone remember what the name of the last ship to leave was? I've got a piece of Ringdum candy for whoever could tell me." He said as he retrieved a neon green candy from his desk drawer. Muriel eyed the piece of candy as she tried to remember. There was no luck as she heard Mr. Carroll call on one of the other 30 kids.

"Yes, Claire, can you tell me the name of the last ship?" He said with a smile.

"Was it called the Olympus?" She asked meekly. Her voice reminded Muriel of a mouse's squeak. 

"That's correct!" Mr. Carroll shouted as he threw the neon piece of candy. Muriel watched the green chunk soar through the sky and bounce off Claire's round head. The entire classroom erupted into laughter at the sight.

Muriel's body felt stiff as she lied down to stare at the stars above. She could remember one night when her father used his telescope to show her where the Milky Way was in the night sky. She was baffled to think that so many people could have come from something so far away. Even with her father's high powered telescope, the Milky Way looked like a wayward crumb on a black velvet dress. She closed her eyes to let the majesty of the universe soak in and breathed deeply. She'd never known Earth or what it was like to gaze upon the Milky Way in its full splendor, but she felt as if she could sense the entirety of human history right there and maybe something more. She sat there for what felt like hours before she sat up, and started to climb down the pyramid. The legends had persisted of what the original colonists had found and of a vastly superior civilization below her feet, but she just couldn't believe it. When she finally reached the bottom of the pyramid, she took one last look at the imposing structure and walked away. Whatever secrets it may have weren't hers to unravel.