Tevun-Krus #33 - Generation Ship

The Bearer of Life - A Short Story by @torontojim

When Yggdrasil sprouted, that is, the ash tree that would become Yggdrasil, no one foresaw what it would become except for The Sons of Odin. With stronger convictions than a convention of Southern Baptists, more faith than a mosque of Muslims, and more money than the Pope, the men and women of that organization played a long game.

NASA, ESA, and just about every scientist worth the paper their name was written on, laughed long and hard at Jesse Halvertson. When she announced, late in 2116, that her great-grandfather's garden tree was going to be taken into outer space to see if it could survive, there was much snickering and finger pointing in laboratories and pince-nez stuffed drawing rooms around the world.

Survive it did, though, and it flourished -- and it grew, and grew, and grew. For millennia, it survived and it grew, unrestrained and unencumbered by gravity, faithfully and lovingly attended to by each new generation of The Sons of Odin.

The laughing had long stopped.

<*> <*> <*>

The Year 7516 - The Expanse

"And why can't their own people do it?" Janek gritted his teeth, staring at the paper in his hand.

"Both of the province's sappists have Usher syndrome, and it's advanced to total hearing loss."

"So what? They aren't blind."

"Actually, their night blindness has progressed as well. They would not be able to work if they had to go down into a fissure."

Janek balled up the paper and stuck it in his jacket pocket. He let out a long breath and watched it condensing in the cool air of Niflheim city.

"Come on, son, don't get your panties in twist. Just go, do the job, and then you can come back."

Without another word, Korn Clausen's eldest son turned and headed home. Grabbing a quick bite, packing a bag of clothes, and kissing his wife -- repeatedly -- only took him forty minutes. Of course, he had to spend several minutes resting his head on her belly full of baby. Janek arrived at the slepinir station just in time for the late morning transport.

<*> <*> <*>

The groan was felt, not heard. The Bearer of Life felt the tickle of light change slightly and tried to turn, ever so slowly, towards it. So long since the warmth of a star's rays were felt; so long since the brightness brought growth; so long since forever and forever was still all it had to move towards.

But move towards forever, the Bearer of Life did. Tiny collenchyma cells near the surface along hundreds of kilometres of bark were squeezed until they popped, allowing the carbon dioxide therein to escape. The dynamics of the gaseous expansion exerted a force on the great living ship, causing his orientation to change ever so slightly without affecting his trajectory. On its holy purpose, its raison d'etre, the great tree continued across the expanse.

The call of life was an unquenchable pursuit. Coerced to leave, it was now coerced to seek.

But all was not well with the Bearer of Life. There was -- a discomfort.

Discomforts were not uncommon for such a great creature, but de Underjordiske had always attended lovingly to all of its pains. But now, this pain endured. Why was there no prayer? Why was there no ministration? Why was there no relief? Where were the loving hands? The Bearer of life new all of its children, the Bearer of Life felt all of its children, the Bearer of Life loved all of its children -- but none of the children were coming to his call for relief.