B5 FIC: LA DELUGE 1/1
This was written for 15minuteficlets, but as it took me closer to half an hour to write, I didn't think it fair to post it there. But, er, here it is. Written for the challenge of picture #18.
For those unfamiliar with 15minuteficlets, you are given a picture or a word and then you write non-stop for fifteen minutes (or thereabouts). So, obvious warnings - not betaed, possibly a little disjointed, etc etc.
Gosh, that really sold it, didn't it? :)
TITLE: LA DELUGE
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: Après moi, la déluge.
*
It has been a long time since G’Kar last saw the rain fall, perhaps five years or longer. Certainly he has not seen it since he took up his post on Babylon 5. The rain on Narn was a slow, heavy thing, almost impossible to coax even with weather control technology.
He remembers the first time he saw rain, when he was barely free from his father’s pouch and he looked up at the domed ceiling above, watching the mud sluice away from the plexiglass enclosure. “The sky has broken!” he’d cried out, frightened and confused, as, bit by bit, the orange sky above was slowly revealed.
“It will rain soon,” his father had murmured, and had carried him inside shortly before, but even with this warning, G’Kar had not understood what was about to happen. When the acrid smell of burning drifted down, he only understood that the sky had broken, that the plexiglass might not hold, and that his world had never seemed this precarious.
It had been barely a year since the Centauri left, and still the air above Narn was thick with chemicals. “The wrong type of chemicals,” his father had said, and had offered his services to the rebuilding effort. His family had followed suit and soon G’Kar was back in the shelter, frightened and exhilarated as the rain fell and burned all it touched.
“It is better this way; it will clean the air faster. Do you understand?”
He did not. He did not need to. All he needed was to look up and see the deadly drops spatter down while the adults around him clapped their hands in wonder and praised G’Quon’s name. It was not true rain, his father had explained, but it was all there would be for a long time.
“Soon, when the water falls from the sky, it will not burn. Instead, it will nourish our crops and fill our rivers and lakes and canals. It will overflow the aquifers and spill out over the land, soaking through the soil until everything is green again. Soon, my son, when the rain will come again, it will not burn,” and G’Kar’s eyes had widened even more, fixed rapturously on the torrent still pounding down from above. Soon, he thought. Soon, rain would be a thing to see all across Narn.
Years later, when there was nothing but ashes left of his world and of his dreams, he thought bitterly back to his father’s hopes. A green world, he thought, and all he could conjure was the gardens of Centauri Prime; such a decadent, lavish world that even the trees had flowers. And still, no rain, even here, though the air had smelt fresh.
Outside the Centauri Royal Palace, the longed-for rain blasted down across broken houses and ruined streets, across the ashes of the gardens and of the dry beds of rivers and lakes incinerated in the blast. Almost, he could hear his father’s voice explaining the sublimation of all that water; clouds, he thought, the clouds would be ash and salt water and sulphur, and so the rain -
“What are you doing here?”
G’Kar turned slightly. Londo stood beside him, a gloved hand pulling back the curtain to join him in gazing outside.
“I was contemplating the rain, Mollari. Can nothing be done to stop it?”
“Our scientists are working on it, but the weather control system was damaged in the attack. It will continue for some time, perhaps poisoning all our lakes and rivers before we can stop it.” Those gloved fingers came to rest against the plexiglass; silk and empty space around the mist of their combined breathing. “Come away from the window, G’Kar. Your ship awaits.”
G’Kar nodded slowly and turned to go. Outside, the sins of Centauri Prime were being washed away in the scalding rain, fire and brimstone raining down from the sky itself.
Londo’s handprint misted over with one last exhalation before he, too, turned away from the sight.
*
fin
For those unfamiliar with 15minuteficlets, you are given a picture or a word and then you write non-stop for fifteen minutes (or thereabouts). So, obvious warnings - not betaed, possibly a little disjointed, etc etc.
Gosh, that really sold it, didn't it? :)
TITLE: LA DELUGE
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: Après moi, la déluge.
*
It has been a long time since G’Kar last saw the rain fall, perhaps five years or longer. Certainly he has not seen it since he took up his post on Babylon 5. The rain on Narn was a slow, heavy thing, almost impossible to coax even with weather control technology.
He remembers the first time he saw rain, when he was barely free from his father’s pouch and he looked up at the domed ceiling above, watching the mud sluice away from the plexiglass enclosure. “The sky has broken!” he’d cried out, frightened and confused, as, bit by bit, the orange sky above was slowly revealed.
“It will rain soon,” his father had murmured, and had carried him inside shortly before, but even with this warning, G’Kar had not understood what was about to happen. When the acrid smell of burning drifted down, he only understood that the sky had broken, that the plexiglass might not hold, and that his world had never seemed this precarious.
It had been barely a year since the Centauri left, and still the air above Narn was thick with chemicals. “The wrong type of chemicals,” his father had said, and had offered his services to the rebuilding effort. His family had followed suit and soon G’Kar was back in the shelter, frightened and exhilarated as the rain fell and burned all it touched.
“It is better this way; it will clean the air faster. Do you understand?”
He did not. He did not need to. All he needed was to look up and see the deadly drops spatter down while the adults around him clapped their hands in wonder and praised G’Quon’s name. It was not true rain, his father had explained, but it was all there would be for a long time.
“Soon, when the water falls from the sky, it will not burn. Instead, it will nourish our crops and fill our rivers and lakes and canals. It will overflow the aquifers and spill out over the land, soaking through the soil until everything is green again. Soon, my son, when the rain will come again, it will not burn,” and G’Kar’s eyes had widened even more, fixed rapturously on the torrent still pounding down from above. Soon, he thought. Soon, rain would be a thing to see all across Narn.
Years later, when there was nothing but ashes left of his world and of his dreams, he thought bitterly back to his father’s hopes. A green world, he thought, and all he could conjure was the gardens of Centauri Prime; such a decadent, lavish world that even the trees had flowers. And still, no rain, even here, though the air had smelt fresh.
Outside the Centauri Royal Palace, the longed-for rain blasted down across broken houses and ruined streets, across the ashes of the gardens and of the dry beds of rivers and lakes incinerated in the blast. Almost, he could hear his father’s voice explaining the sublimation of all that water; clouds, he thought, the clouds would be ash and salt water and sulphur, and so the rain -
“What are you doing here?”
G’Kar turned slightly. Londo stood beside him, a gloved hand pulling back the curtain to join him in gazing outside.
“I was contemplating the rain, Mollari. Can nothing be done to stop it?”
“Our scientists are working on it, but the weather control system was damaged in the attack. It will continue for some time, perhaps poisoning all our lakes and rivers before we can stop it.” Those gloved fingers came to rest against the plexiglass; silk and empty space around the mist of their combined breathing. “Come away from the window, G’Kar. Your ship awaits.”
G’Kar nodded slowly and turned to go. Outside, the sins of Centauri Prime were being washed away in the scalding rain, fire and brimstone raining down from the sky itself.
Londo’s handprint misted over with one last exhalation before he, too, turned away from the sight.
*
fin