<BRIGHT COLD> The sun shone brightly into Joriks cockpit, the light casting deep shadows across his wrinkled face. His battered T6 silently flew on towards the sole trading platform in the system, soft whirrs and hot ticking metal punctuating the silence.
<MOVEMENT CALM> As a Utopian messenger, Jorik had travelled to many border worlds like this one, lawless anarchies full of broken people enduring relentless hardships.
<FATIGUE> He felt so old and tired…
< RESOLVE >…and yet he must continue his mission, to show the people a better way.
The T6 gently touched down on the outpost, the landing pad swallowing the transport as it sank into the hangar below.
<APPREHENSION>
<APPREHENSION>
He walked to the rear access ramp of his ship, and pressed the hatch release. Seals uncoupled, and the hissing sound slowly subsided as atmospheres met, his nostrils filling with a heady mixture of sweat, grease and metal. He walked down the ramp, and made his way to a nearby elevator.
Jorik had few possessions bar a small bag full of Utopian leaflets and a small data pad. He rarely used the literature, instead choosing to speak from the heart about the better life others could lead on a Utopian world <JOY HAPPY ELATION>
<TREPIDATION COMPOSURE> As he descended to the trading area, people gave him distrustful looks as he mentally prepared himself. The elevator came to a juddering halt and its rusted doors peeled back to reveal a bustling market. < LIFE WONDER > Jorik stepped out, and began to mingle in the crowd. He spent the next hour talking to those who would listen, describing the gleaming spires on Utopian worlds, of a life free from hunger and fear.
<DELIGHT>
But as always there were people who failed to imagine this greater future for themselves. As he continued, Jorik was heckled, jostled and spat on by those who feared him. <SADNESS CONFUSION FRUSTRATION>
Amid this melee of people, he noticed a small boy following him.
<CURIOSITY >
This child looked so old, thought Jorik. Although the boy did not speak, his sullen face and worn clothes told him all he needed to know about another innocent child with no future. Seeing this boy rekindled painful memories of his life long ago. <REGRET SADNESS>
Jorik held out a slice of bread to the child. The boy edged closer, and eagerly snatched the food away. The old man smiled as the boy began eating. <CONTENT HAPPINESS>
<APREHENSION >
Behind Jorik, a group of youths had gathered. They leered at him, and began walking towards the old Utopian. Before he could react, the lead youth unsheathed a knife and pushed it deep into Joriks chest.
<PAIN COLD HOT>
Jorik felt the cold blade inside him as his blood began to splash on the floor. He fell to his knees, and toppled forward. As he lay there, Jorik could feel the cold deck on his face, and beyond, see the boy hiding behind an old cargo pod.
The youths moved on, laughing.
<SADNESS FEAR COLD>
Jorik groggily waved his arm to the boy, beckoning him over. At first the boy remained hidden, but seeing the expanding pool of blood he ran over to investigate. The boy remained emotionless as the old man drifted towards death.
<RESOLVE>
Summoning all his strength, Jorik spoke in a wet, gurgling murmur.
“C..come…here…”
“Are…are…you afraid of this…place?”
The boy nodded as Joriks vision began to darken.
"Par...parents?"
Tears welled up in the boys eyes as he shook his head.
<FEAR COLD DARK>
“Wh…where I come from….no one goes hungry…..no drugs….gangs”
<JOY LONGING SADNESS>
Slowly fumbling, Jorik pointed to a data chip on his temple implant. “Take..this.. to my ship…..pad three. Get inside, and press…..this…. my ship will..will do the rest”.
<PAIN>
Jorik coughed up blood as he forced out the words. He held out the data chip in his blood-stained hand.
“Take it….go”.
<SLOWING>
The boy reached out, and took the small object from the dying man’s palm. As Joriks last moments of life faded from his body, he felt a sense of elation as his death meant another could be saved.
<HAPPY>
<LIGHT>
<DARK>
<>
<>
<>
The Curator opened his eyes as his implant finished its simulation. Around him, a circle of Utopian clerics stood in silence.
“Messenger Jorik Galt is dead. All his collated life experiences will be added to the Sim Archive as his status demands.”
The circle bowed their heads in unison.
“May his life enrich us all.”
The circle then turned to face the far corner of the vault. There, dressed in plain Utopian clothing stood the boy. The Curator walked across the room and stood before him.
“Messenger Galt chose you to be his apprentice. Do you accept his invitation?”
The boy nodded in response. As he did so, the Curator crouched down and placed a hand on the boys shoulder. In a lowered tone, he spoke again.
“Utopian life is hard, with many rules that you will not understand to begin with. Jorik saw something of himself in you; do you still want to join us? There is no shame in refusing.”
The boy looked into the Curators face and responded with a whisper thin voice.
“I want to stay.”
The Curator nodded to the boy, and smiled. "Use the Sim Archive wisely, for it contains the sum knowledge of civilisation. The thoughts, feelings and people within it will guide your way."
They walked outside into Antals dazzling sun. Bathed in its warm light, the boy looked to the horizon, collating his first thoughts.
<JOY>
<MOVEMENT CALM> As a Utopian messenger, Jorik had travelled to many border worlds like this one, lawless anarchies full of broken people enduring relentless hardships.
<FATIGUE> He felt so old and tired…
< RESOLVE >…and yet he must continue his mission, to show the people a better way.
The T6 gently touched down on the outpost, the landing pad swallowing the transport as it sank into the hangar below.
<APPREHENSION>
<APPREHENSION>
He walked to the rear access ramp of his ship, and pressed the hatch release. Seals uncoupled, and the hissing sound slowly subsided as atmospheres met, his nostrils filling with a heady mixture of sweat, grease and metal. He walked down the ramp, and made his way to a nearby elevator.
Jorik had few possessions bar a small bag full of Utopian leaflets and a small data pad. He rarely used the literature, instead choosing to speak from the heart about the better life others could lead on a Utopian world <JOY HAPPY ELATION>
<TREPIDATION COMPOSURE> As he descended to the trading area, people gave him distrustful looks as he mentally prepared himself. The elevator came to a juddering halt and its rusted doors peeled back to reveal a bustling market. < LIFE WONDER > Jorik stepped out, and began to mingle in the crowd. He spent the next hour talking to those who would listen, describing the gleaming spires on Utopian worlds, of a life free from hunger and fear.
<DELIGHT>
But as always there were people who failed to imagine this greater future for themselves. As he continued, Jorik was heckled, jostled and spat on by those who feared him. <SADNESS CONFUSION FRUSTRATION>
Amid this melee of people, he noticed a small boy following him.
<CURIOSITY >
This child looked so old, thought Jorik. Although the boy did not speak, his sullen face and worn clothes told him all he needed to know about another innocent child with no future. Seeing this boy rekindled painful memories of his life long ago. <REGRET SADNESS>
Jorik held out a slice of bread to the child. The boy edged closer, and eagerly snatched the food away. The old man smiled as the boy began eating. <CONTENT HAPPINESS>
<APREHENSION >
Behind Jorik, a group of youths had gathered. They leered at him, and began walking towards the old Utopian. Before he could react, the lead youth unsheathed a knife and pushed it deep into Joriks chest.
<PAIN COLD HOT>
Jorik felt the cold blade inside him as his blood began to splash on the floor. He fell to his knees, and toppled forward. As he lay there, Jorik could feel the cold deck on his face, and beyond, see the boy hiding behind an old cargo pod.
The youths moved on, laughing.
<SADNESS FEAR COLD>
Jorik groggily waved his arm to the boy, beckoning him over. At first the boy remained hidden, but seeing the expanding pool of blood he ran over to investigate. The boy remained emotionless as the old man drifted towards death.
<RESOLVE>
Summoning all his strength, Jorik spoke in a wet, gurgling murmur.
“C..come…here…”
“Are…are…you afraid of this…place?”
The boy nodded as Joriks vision began to darken.
"Par...parents?"
Tears welled up in the boys eyes as he shook his head.
<FEAR COLD DARK>
“Wh…where I come from….no one goes hungry…..no drugs….gangs”
<JOY LONGING SADNESS>
Slowly fumbling, Jorik pointed to a data chip on his temple implant. “Take..this.. to my ship…..pad three. Get inside, and press…..this…. my ship will..will do the rest”.
<PAIN>
Jorik coughed up blood as he forced out the words. He held out the data chip in his blood-stained hand.
“Take it….go”.
<SLOWING>
The boy reached out, and took the small object from the dying man’s palm. As Joriks last moments of life faded from his body, he felt a sense of elation as his death meant another could be saved.
<HAPPY>
<LIGHT>
<DARK>
<>
<>
<>
The Curator opened his eyes as his implant finished its simulation. Around him, a circle of Utopian clerics stood in silence.
“Messenger Jorik Galt is dead. All his collated life experiences will be added to the Sim Archive as his status demands.”
The circle bowed their heads in unison.
“May his life enrich us all.”
The circle then turned to face the far corner of the vault. There, dressed in plain Utopian clothing stood the boy. The Curator walked across the room and stood before him.
“Messenger Galt chose you to be his apprentice. Do you accept his invitation?”
The boy nodded in response. As he did so, the Curator crouched down and placed a hand on the boys shoulder. In a lowered tone, he spoke again.
“Utopian life is hard, with many rules that you will not understand to begin with. Jorik saw something of himself in you; do you still want to join us? There is no shame in refusing.”
The boy looked into the Curators face and responded with a whisper thin voice.
“I want to stay.”
The Curator nodded to the boy, and smiled. "Use the Sim Archive wisely, for it contains the sum knowledge of civilisation. The thoughts, feelings and people within it will guide your way."
They walked outside into Antals dazzling sun. Bathed in its warm light, the boy looked to the horizon, collating his first thoughts.
<JOY>
