The Collaboration

From The Book of THoTH (Leaves of Wisdom)

What is The Collaboration? What it basically is, is an idea NGian had to try and bring the creative members of the site to get together and produce a sort of on-going serial with a basic plot that could be added to every day/week/whenever. The story can go anywhere and do anything, thats the beauty of the whole project. He also wanted it to encompass as many different styles of writing as possible, because as you already know, everyone writes differently. Not only that though, we want it to feature artwork and poetry by members of the site to vary the whole context of the piece. Whats also good is that anyone can join and enter at anytime by going to 'I've Had an Idea' in the Creative Corner and sharing their ideas and getting them on this page in The Book.

So, without further ado:

Silversurfer on Sat, July 22, 2006 - Creative Corner 'I've Had an Idea'

The Collaboration...

NGian on Thurs, July 20, 2006 - Creative Corner 'I've Had an Idea'

The fetid smell of sulphur hung in the air and a dry heat crept over everything, sucking at the very oxygen, carbon dioxide and other mineral deposits that remained there, like a leech draining all that was fresh and good in the atmosphere and reducing to a foul smelling, stale waste.

It had been like this for weeks. In less than a month, the lush, tropical climate had rotted anyway inexplicably. Trees began to lose their leaves, and their bark slowly turned grey and fell away, the impenetrable jungle canopy now an almost clear sky, skeletal hands and fingers reaching out for life against the angry eye of the red sun. The colourful vegetation, reds, blues, oranges and yellows too wilted away into the shadows, shying away, feeling betrayed that there was no rain to visit them and relieve them of their thirst, giving them the sustenance and life they so desperately required.

Animals barely coped either. Birds had flown south, they being the first to go when the heat came, almost knowing but unable to convey their distress to the others living on the jungle floor. Those with fir had been less fortunate. Flying squirrels, rats, deer, all had been unable to cope with the all too humid atmosphere and now nearly noxious gases that lingered in the air. Few had chance to flee and most just fell where they stood, emaciated and poisoned. Upturned rib cages provided and excellent playground for the lizards and insects who dwelt on the jungle floor, scurrying endlessly amongst the bones and brown leaves, an a life threatening game of tag for the one being chased in a land now sparse with food. Crocodiles and amphibians now lay side by side in shallow pools of mud, skins ripped and cracked, to weak and tired to move, barely even aware of each others presence.

Everything just waiting to die.

Night fell quicker than it normally did. And everything in the prehistoric jungle became aware of the change. Cicadas gently picked up their musical symphony, as did the frogs, beating out percussion to the insects violin-like strokes. The lizards ran even more restlessly after the beetles, the cool air refreshing them, but not bringing either species temperature down enough that it could not flee the other. The crocodiles shifted their great lumbering bulk from the water to begin the scavenge for any meat left on the carcasses of the dead animals, perhaps even picking off each other, the weak and the old, as the hunt for food became even more desperate.

It was with an thunderous crack that the air split and a rush of cooling ozone spread across the barren, dying jungle. Lightning rained down throughout, obliterating the withered forms of the trees, beginning the soon to be raging fires in the dry scrub. Looking up, a glowing white mass could be seen descending rapidly on the land. Closer and closer it got until soon it filled the sky, the heat more intense than anything the land had ever felt, plant life simply melting before it, the animals turning into columns of sheer ash, unrecognisable as the creatures they once were.

Then the meteor hit.

And the world was dust...

Vehement on Fri, July 21, 2006 - Creative Corner 'I've Had an Idea'

"It was a direct impact sir." The nervous man stated to the general.

The general leaned back in his chair obviously fear stricken by the news. "Send word to the President, we obviously cannot go back. Also, please keep it quite for now, we need to plan out our next step before we let the public know."

"Yes sir." The young man raced off leaving the general alone the room.

'My God, what do we do now?' The general thought as he got up and strode over to the small window looking out into the space beyond. He was looking out into the direction of where Earth was, well what would be left of Earth. 'We have nowhere to go.'

The New Hope drifted further out into space towards a destination unknown. It was a massive fleet of ships carrying the only remains of the people who were able to escape before the meteor hit. A total of 2000 ships carrying just over 2 milliion people is all that remained. They had completed the most crucial part of the mission and that was to get off the planet Earth. The next part of the plan was survival.

katsmeow on Fri, July 21, 2006 - Creative Corner 'I've Had an Idea'

Martin Radford bowed his head with the news and remained still for a time.

General Newman's assistant continued on hesitantly. "There probably should be some kind of announcement made, Mr. President."

The president gently dismissed the man and allowed himself a few moments of reflection. He, as well as all those aboard the ships, had hoped against hope that the meteor's impact would not have been so utterly devastating. He had never felt so alone.

With a sigh and resignation, he turned to face his desk and pressed the intercom button. "General Newman...Tom, can you arrange a meeting with all key personel in regards to our next course of action?"

But the events of that day had been observed by more than the people of earth. President Radford and the New Hope fleet were not alone.

BubbaEarlIII on Sat, July 22, 2006 - Creative Corner 'I've Had an Idea'

Slowly removing his finger from the button and staring at his desk but not seeing because of the tears and the memories, the president shook his head slowly from side to side, painfully remembering the events leading up to this point in time.

The attacks on the departure sites, the machine guns cutting down men, women and children whose only reason for being killed was trying to live. The faces of the children as they died were the worst memories. Trying to justify his orders and decisions did not stop the memories. He had stopped trying to justify such many days ago.

The choosing of who would live and who would not was almost as bad. A lottery was considered but ruled out as being too random. He and 12 of his most trusted advisors finally decided after only 8 hours of brainstorming that to insure survival of mankind, the skilled, healthy and psychologically sound must be chosen. With a smile he remembered the passionate argument his wife had put forth to him in the privacy of their bedroom, insisting that artists and writers must be included. She won. And he was glad she did.

The sudden buzzing of the intercom brought him back to the present with a jerk. Pressing the button and replying to it's insistence with "Yes". He heard the words, "Mr. President, this is Newman. I really need to see you. I think we have company"

Vehement on Sat, July 22, 2006 - Creative Corner 'The Venture'

He is one among so many but nothing significant

Time gives to those who deserve any title or rank

His eyes are beginning to turn, he is now observant

His shoulder quite broad for his age, a formidable tank

His elders are on the front line should battle break out

Their weapons held at their side, a lone staff ten strides high

A fierce warrior stands at the front, yellow eyes showing no doubt

He knows the humans will fear with this appearance suddenly nigh

Looking at the army below this young one fears the worst

Will the humans accept the help we bring, will they understand?

We have always been here, protection always the first

Yet hiding because the humans are a primitive small band

His father, the warrior below, had said it would be hard

The humans have seen nothing outside their blue sphere

Their ignorance has been the enemy destroying their earthly guard

We bring peace but it just may need to be enforced with fear

So be it, the time is now, and we engage the inferior

We come to bring them home, to show who they really are

They know nothing of this grand vision held superior

Let it be time that they behold the source, the Orion Star!

Silversurfer on Wed, July 26, 2006 - Creative Corner 'I've Had an Idea'

jimwill on Fri, July 28, 2006 - Creative Corner 'I've Had an Idea'

The tall, slim, raggedly dressed man paused in the shade of a boulder to catch his breath and enjoy what little coolness there was in the shade. He had been heading southwest over the last few days. Maybe he was trying to escape, although he knew that was impossible.

There was no place on earth where he could escape to. And the destroyer was coming, no doubt about that.

He turned his gaze to the northeast, studying the sky with a burning intentness. Notheast, that was where the calculations indicated it would start. Nothing yet, but it was about time. He decided to sit beside the boulder and wait, running further would not add even a faction of a second to his life. He glanced at his watch. There were only a few minutes left. His thoughts turned to his wife, and he was glad she wasn't alive to suffer through the last few years, and what is about to happen.

He sits and remembers all that happened since the news of the approaching destroyer was leaked to the world. The denials, the lies and scams. Then, when it was confirmed, there were the worldwide riots.

He learned of the possibility of a few escaping the earth, there was a launch complex in the south that was going to try to save some of humanity. Convincing Adrian that they should try to make thier way to the launch site. Thinking that surely they could be among the ones that would be taken! He being a top notch programmer and she a renoun artist.

Then during the boarder crossing they had been caught up in one of the many riots. Adrian had been killed by some filthy, stinking teenage punk. The memory of her accusing look as she died in his arms still tore at him, even after all that had occured since.

He finally arived at the launch site. Although he no longer cared if he went or not. He spoke to one of the guards at the only gate to the complex and presented what credentials he had managed to hang on to. The guard called on a telephone inside the guardshack. He remembered thinking this must be the only place on the earth where telephones still worked!

He was admitted under guard and closely checked by several different people. Then after the required medical exam he was informed that he had a genetic defect that would prevent him from being allowed to join the exodus. He didn't care, but he needed something to do and if he could help with the programming or even guard duties then that was what he would do.

He became a guard. Carring an automatic rifle and patrolling a section of the perimiter fence. The first mob attack happened a few days after he got there. He had never shot a person before, but the memory of what those stinking people did to Adrian helped numb any feelings he may have had. There were many attempts by the mobs in the months that followed.

Afer the first attack was when the defoliants and fires had been used to clear a wide area around the complex. It allowed the guards to see approaching trouble before it was upon them. It was all a blur now, but he knew that he had killed many people who's real crime was wanting to escape and survive. I know that's a change of opinion, he thought. But, after all, he was now one of those stinking filthy people who could only wait and watch.

The final ship lifted off during the most massive attack they had experienced. Due to a glancing blow to his head, he was unconsious when it left. Waking the next day he saw that the complex had been reduced to smoking rubble and he saw no living person. That was when he decided to head to the southwest, to add time to his life. However few milliseconds it was, he wanted to have it.

Now, here he was. Sitting in the shade of a boulder that would not last much longer than he would, waiting for the end.

A sudden brightning of the sky to the northeast drew his attention. Here it comes he thought. Not long at all now.

Adrian! I love you!

I hope you are waiting for me!

BubbaEarlIII on Tue, Aug 01, 2006 - Creative Corner 'I've Had an Idea'

Staring at the intercom button that he had grown to hate, the President angrily punched it. “What the hell now, Newman?” Immediately regretting his loss of control and pent up frustration, he then apologized.

“Tom, I’m sorry. No excuses. Come on in.” Pausing long enough before the door to the president’s office to allow the total body scan to approve him, General Newman took advantage of the time to remove his hat and straighten his tie. Remembering the old military term, “Spit and polish”, he stopped. His career had been based on action not appearances.

Hat in hand, he slowly entered the room. Trying to read the mood of Radford he was disappointed seeing the man had his back to him, gazing out the viewport. “Now what’s this about company?”, Radford said, slowly turning to face the general.

“ Our long range radar has picked up a group of objects that appear to be in formation. They are so far out we’re having a hard time determining shape and direction of travel. With your permission, I will assign Erik to full time monitor status on them” Radford, remembering who Erik was, said.” Well if anyone can figure it out, that little Russian ought to. Also get Franco and his team of electronic nerds together to try to tweak our radar and radio signal monitors. Aim all the paras and d.a.’s toward our company. I have a gut feeling about this. Keep me posted."

“Yes sir, Mr. President.”

“Hey Tom?”

“Yes sir?”

“How long have we known each other?”

“23 years, Mr. President.”

“So you should know my first name, right”

“ Uh…. Yes sir.”

“Well for God’s sake, Tom. Quit calling me Mr. President.

With a smile in his voice, General Newman replied with, “OK, Zorro.” Remembering the nickname from college, and thankful for the levity, Radford responded with “Not the nickname Tom. Now get to work. But let’s hold off on any meetings for the time being until we know a little more about our company. I don’t feel like fielding questions we won’t know how to answer.”

NGian on Sat, Aug 5, 2006 - Creative Corner 'I've Had an Idea'

12:41 am

Officer Danny Kurtz and the rest of his security team ran down corridor F42 of the Austrailian State civilian transport ship 3257 Routledge not knowing at all what to expect.

"Who exactly radioed this in Davin?" he asked, turning to his comrade, Davin Richards, as both simultaneously unholstered their guns from the waists of their police uniforms. Kurtz heard the familiar click of two other pistols being carried by the remaining two members of the group and he quickly turned on them, waving for them both to stand down. "Not until we know, guys."

"I dunno sir. Just got some chick screaming down the intercom. Woke me actually!" Davin snapped back, not realising the ferocity in his voice. Everyone was having difficultly adjusting to the disaster and tensions were flared.

They rounded the corner.

11:45 pm

The young man with shoulder length blond hair rushed along F42 with blantant disregard for anyone else around him. People stood in the corridor, most still in shock. Men and women were crying, families were huddled together and babies screamed. None of them could actually comprehend the events of the last eighteen hours.

"Do you realise exactly how quick the aftershock is going to hit us?" One man, wearing a pressed brown suit explained to an already distressed teenage girl. "Hopefully the President, or the Prime Minister, or whoever the hell IS in charge, has the engines of all the fleet running on full power before that comes back at us or we'll be ripped apart."

The girl looked around frantically, taking the horror of the people in the corridor and what this man was telling her. "Thanks, no really, thanks for that."

The Blond Man rushed passed them, nearly knocking the girl over. He carried a briefcase close to his chest, holding it as though it held every treasure in the universe, or the cure for cancer, or both. Sweat poured from his brow and his eyes darted from left to right constantly. He reached a man who was standing alone looking out of the giant, reinforced glass windows on to what was left of the planet floating far away. "I could have... I could..." Tears ran down his face and his gaze never once faltered from the remains of Earth. " Excuse me?" The Blond Man asked, in a voice that was distinctly un-Austrailian, "but are you Doctor Craig?"

It took some time for the Crying Man to acknowledge him but in time, he turned. "Y-Yes, why?"

"I have the gift to relieve your sadness." He dropped the briefcase, or it rather came apart in his arms, to reveal a small firearm with a very sharp dagger attached to the end. He plunged it into the doctors chest and fired off six rounds, one steadily after the other, until the doctor fell to the floor. The Blond Man looked around as everyone on F42 turned to look at him. He then took a bow and proceeded to run madly up the corridor.

The teenage girl who had been listening to the man about the engines shifted to the nearest intercom, hammered the police number into it.

And screamed.