Mobius
Moving is a good time to organize and prune the junk one has collected over the years. While doing so I found several old notebooks. I've scanned the contents of one of them. I wrote and drew in this one eight to ten years ago, while working as a security guard previous to my jobs in graphic design and print production. Among the contents were experimental systems of numeric notation, a keyboard arrangement for the phonetic alphabet, and a short and light narrative of the fantastic, complete with an encyclopedic excerpt and background introduction. I now present a sample of my younger self, unedited.Mobius
Mobius is a large blue planet covered completely with water. It is inhabited by a race of humanoid fungus. the Mobians breath water exclusively and drown without it. They are usually three meters in height. Their colors range from green or blue to black or white. They are resistant to the extreme pressure of their watery environment because of their spongy flesh and collapsing skeleton, which cause them to actually shrink as the pressure increases. Young Mobians are called "kelpies" because they begin life by budding off a species of floating seaweed, or kelp. Mobians make their homes in coral reefs.
On the bottom of the deepest undersea canyons of the aquatic kingdom of Mobius, fed by boiling geysers from mysterious glowing vents in the ocean floor, there grows a peculiar species. This breed of oysterlike shellfish possesses an almost magical property found nowhere else in nature or technology. This phenomenon is difficult to describe without being hopelessly confusing; one just has to see a demonstration to really get it. The following narrative is an excerpt from "Fathoming the Outer Space", the memoirs of the Mobian hero Gelunkigelibob.
The expedition to the Source left me famished. No sooner had I reached the safety of my cave than I took the net off my back, spread it on the table, and examined my new treasures for something edible. The giant shellfish seemed the likeliest choice, so I set about to pry it open.
Now, shellfish come open the easiest when you stick the knife in the side opposite the hinge, but I couldn't find a hinge. The shells were almost flat, and perfectly round. So I just picked a spot and started prying. I remember thinking that there must be more meat inside than there appeared, because of how firm it was holding together, and that there had better be because the work was making me hungrier.
There was a loud pop when it opened, instead of a tearing sound, and if that wasn't enough to startle me there were two other people inside. At least that was the first impression that I had for an instant, and then I realized with disappointment that there were mirrors on the inside of the shells instead of food. (Actually, my first impression was closer to the truth, but I didn't know that yet.) I held the halves open in front of me like a book while the surprise wore off and I started feeling stupid instead. "Meathead", I said. "Silly kelpie." I laughed. Well the more I stared at the mirrors the harder it was to shake the feeling there was something different about them. My images were imitating me perfectly, but I couldn't see any glossiness to the surface. Then I saw it. My scar was on the wrong ear. The whole image was backwards... I mean, it wasn't backwards, that was what was weird. I laughed some more and decided to play with them after dinner, and with that I tossed one across the room to my junk pile.
I stopped laughing quick.
The shell I was still holding in my hand showed me the floor going by in a blur, and as the other shell settled face-down in my box of coral - well, do I have to tell you what I saw? The texture was so real, I had to reach out my fingers, slowly, telling myself to expect just slick, polished glass...
I wouldn't have thrown the other shell if I had noticed Krebner's hatchling was in the room. Before my fingers touched down it had snatched up the other half of my treasure in its tentacles and squirted out the open window. I don't know what I said, something about not wanting to play, but if my wits hadn't been addled by all this I wouldn't have bothered. He wasn't trained. I just swam to the window and yelled at him as he descended into the canyon at top speed. Then I realized that my voice was carrying through my shell to his, and he thought I was right behind him in hot pursuit. I swam up out of the cave to get Krebner.
By the time I got up to Krebner's cave and started knocking the shell seemed to be fighting to get loose from my grip. I could see the Source glowing in there, and realized the difference in water pressure was forcing a current through to my side. Imagine what Krebner would have thought if he had come to the door just then and seen me floating in the jetstream and my face underlit with the glowing light of the Source? And waving a big clam at him too.
But I needed his help to get back my other shell, and it was getting hard to hang on to this one. I wrapped my legs around a projection of the coral reef when the gushing shell in my hands began to whip me back and forth out of control. Apparently the pup was struggling too. With a slurp the current sucked him through, he hit my face, I lost my grip and the shell careened off into the open sea.
Krebner finally opened the door and saw his pup gripping my head. I dimly remember profuse apologies and a thousand thanks as he took his pet and closed the door.
I think that was when I passed out.