Ghostwriter

.....
You won't forgive me for this.

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Sorry.
What do you remember about refugia?
You should know a great deal, there were so many questions you had to answer to get that beacon to go off, remember?
Remember the trees, the smell of pine in the air?
The language of refugia, the cultures, the history?
The names, the countries the plants and animals.
Oh, those lovely little furry animals, what were they called?
Oh yes, rabooli!
Fuzzy little things, with their tiny little eyes.
Remember how high they could jump?
How they lived in nests tucked away among the roots of trees?
Remember those flowers, oh how the rabooli loved those flowers.
Such a lovely shade of green.
Oh, can't forget though.
How those flowers would change colors with the season.
(Of which there were five, but you knew that already.)
Such a vibrant parade of colors.
Green on the first, gold the second. Violet the third and chartreuse the fourth.
And for the fifth season of but one day, a full rainbow of color to delight the eyes.
Do you remember what it was like every fifth day of the month, your brothers and sisters gathering in the chapels to offer praise to their deity?
What was its name, oh I can't remember.
But you do, you have to remember.
Or how the tribunal would natter away on the screens, bickering over the specifics of rules older than they?
Remember the schools, oh how tired and utterly dull they were, the hours passing like sand in an hourglass.
It wasn't like they taught much of value either, no they were too busy indoctrinating youth to fit nicely into their ordered society.
Surely this rings a bell, doesn't it Belfry? No?
.....
Alright, how about the seventy-two-hundred flowers and how each one held a special meaning under different circumstances?
You wouldn't remember all of them, but you learned a few. Would be difficult not to, with how much you loved that book.
Dustclove to be hung when tired, rosepetals to relax, gravevine when tense or irritable, oh and your favorite: The crisp tri-gold petalled rose.
Such beautiful shades of gold, no two petals were the same.
No matter how hard you tried, you could never find one to the contrary, much less the rare mono-gold petalled rose.
The gardens, hah. You were never allowed in the gardens, but the gardener was a kind soul who never told anyone about the youths sneaking in through some loose bricks behind the everglass bushes.
Nasty, horrible shrubs those were. Yet, how they sparkled in the light.
Always seemed brighter in the days after someone was scratched by one.
.....
Oh, oh, oh. Here, a rite performed every tuesday: The burning of redwood incense to keep sickness at bay.
You remember performing that one yourself, though with no redwood on Chiron it was rather difficult.
Had to make due with wood you dyed red in pyreberry juice and ground to chips!
It wasn't the same, but it brought comfort each year when the flu or other diseases were passing through the island.
Still, it was the redwood tea you missed the most. Nothing quite as soothing as the aroma of boiled redwood, was there?
.....
Tell me Belfry, surely you remember something? Anything? Anything at all of this world you knew so well, surely you do!
All those questions you had to answer to trigger that beacon, to let Refugia know you were there!
A name, a scrap, a smidgen or even the teeny-tiniest tidbit of a memory?
No worries, no worries. Let's keep going, shall we?
How about the twin suns, how astronomers thought it a great find when they found out how refugia orbits around them.
A circle around one, launching into the orbit of the other.
A year was how long it took for Refugia to circle one star, the new year beginning as Refugia entered the other stars orbit.
They were amazed, in full, wondrous awe at how improbable the system was.
It was certainly one for the history books, heck it was enough for several!
.....
Still nothing? Tsk.
How about a bit of geology then, eh?
Some rocky facts to get that brain matter of yours working.
Refugia's industrial revolution,
(the first one, before Refugia got a tiny bit too close to one of the suns and woops, there go the crops time to fall back to anarchy for a couple centuries)
,was triggered by the discovery of this strange, greasey substance in one of the largest quarries of the time.
Turns out the stuff burned real good, making a great deal of light without poluting the air all that much.
.....
Don't worry too much if you don't. That beacon was only the biggest turning point of your entire life.
Just, please answer the question Belfry.
Do you remember?
Do you remember?
Do you remember?
Do you remember?
Do. You. Remember?

.....
First thing I learned in breach-scout bootcamp was to doubt everything.
"Tear down every assumption, tear down every fact."
"Tear down the whole wide world until there was nothing left, then tear that down too."
"When everything is gone, and not even nothing is left, there, there you will find the one undeniable truth."
"And on that truth, there, there you will build your castle, your home."
"Everything will stand tall on this one fact, for it cannot fall lower."
They never told us what that one undeniable truth was, they just told us to find it ourselves.
Us trainees never thought about it too much, we chattered and bickered when the sergeant wasn't around.
Thought maybe if one of us figured it out, rest of us could skip to the end, yeah?
Time would pass, we would go through phys-training, a few dropouts here and there.
Eventually someone, don't remember who, just flat out asked Serge what their undeniable truth was.
Serge, he, he just laughed.
Said, "The only undeniable truth is that there is NO undeniable truth".
We weren't happy to hear that, as you can imagine.
Each of us came up with our own answer by then, and to hear they were all wrong, well.
Folks didn't take it too well.
More dropouts, more disillusioned grunts who couldn't take the grind.
Turns out having something, anything at all to rely on is pretty important, huh?
Thing is, it wasn't meant to snub trainees or break their spirits. It was an honest answer, clear as day.
The point we were meant to learn from that was, well.
There isn't one truth, something we could all rely on and stand tall.
Each of us had our own truth buried deep, and for ourselves, that truth was good enough.
.....
Heh.
I guess my point is, Serge wanted us to tear down everything, so we could build anything.
Nowhere to fall, everywhere to climb.
Honestly, I'd say you have a good head start.
You have friends to help you on that climb back up, friends you've been to hell and back with.
There's nowhere left for you fall, and everywhere to climb.
...
Your friends are waiting for you.
Go on, don't keep them waiting.