Read Online The Speaker for the Trees by Sean DeLauder - Free Book Online
Authors: Sean DeLauder
Ads: Link
from an acolyte moving on a faraway crest. It was like trying to
detect the far wall of the infinite sky, or tracking down the source of a
rainbow—each time he thought he had it, it would take another step out of
reach.
Hedge followed
a weaving path of stiff vines through the boundless garden, toaster in hand.
There was a lump of building not far away and, as the only structure in view,
it seemed logical to assume he would find the great Plant there.
Numerous
acolytes wandered through the garden, mobile forms of plants that tilled the
dirt and squirted the grounds with water. They appeared unaware of Hedge, which
was all right with him. A human might stop and stare, then mumble a few
disapproving words to an associate. It wasn't malicious. They were naturally
suspicious and careful about the disruption of their comfortable, familiar
environment.
The trip here
required little alteration to the toaster. Just a slight turn on a screw with
his thumbnail to realign where he was with where he was going, a quick jolt
like the jerk from a dog reaching the end of its lead, then he was here, ears
faintly jangling as though he'd brushed the porch windchime, the aroma of burnt
bread in his nose.
He could very
well have transported himself directly into the presence of the great Plant,
but, quite frankly, Hedge had no idea where the Plant was or what it looked
like.
In truth no one
seemed to know much about the Plant of Ultimate Knowing. They knew it was
ancient and omniscient, but outside of knowing it resided in the great garden
on planet Plant, nothing. Not what it looked like, not where it came from, not
even the last remarkable statement it had made. The notorious Plant was
shrouded in mystique, straddling the boundary between reality and mythology
like Confucius or Buddha or Jesus. The idea of the great Plant was so close to
perfect it filled the faithful with hope and left the cynical groping for
truth. Everyone had heard of it, everyone knew its counsel was sought in times
of great indecision, but no one seemed to have met it.
At least
puzzling through the mystery of the Plant's location allowed the enormity of
what he was doing to build slowly rather than crash upon him in a quick,
thundering smash. Searching for the Plant would provide time to gather his
thoughts, determine how best to phrase his question, and most importantly, give
him time enough to come to his senses and reconsider.
Speaking with
the Plant on this subject could easily be considered treason and he hoped the
Plant of Ultimate Knowing would either sympathize with the plight of humanity
and explain how Hedge could save them, or at the very least convince him the
Council was right. It was the great Plant of Ultimate Knowing that suggested
they study humanity in the first place.
If it had to be
the latter, and Hedge suspected it would be, he hoped the Plant would be kind
enough to satisfy itself with the knowledge that it had turned Hedge away from
disaster rather than tell the Council his aim in coming here. It was these
hopes that pressed him forward.
There had been
only one plant in history convicted of treason. A plant for whom history had no
name. All that remained to commemorate the ignominious existence of the traitor
plant was its unthinkable and mortifying crime, which rang through history as
clearly as a church bell calling the penitent to its door on a solemn Sunday
morning. This plant had attempted to blow up the Council, insisting plants had
no right to dictate the existences of other species. The plant was captured,
put on trial, and sentenced to be mulched.
Hedge
shuddered.
Mulched. How
horrific. Moreso when he thought he too may share such a fate. Become nameless
and reviled by an entire species. And not so long ago the largest of his
worries was the consumption of a few pork chops. How he missed that distant
world more than ever.
Hedge passed
through the vaulted aperture in the front of what Hedge had thought a building
from a
detect the far wall of the infinite sky, or tracking down the source of a
rainbow—each time he thought he had it, it would take another step out of
reach.
Hedge followed
a weaving path of stiff vines through the boundless garden, toaster in hand.
There was a lump of building not far away and, as the only structure in view,
it seemed logical to assume he would find the great Plant there.
Numerous
acolytes wandered through the garden, mobile forms of plants that tilled the
dirt and squirted the grounds with water. They appeared unaware of Hedge, which
was all right with him. A human might stop and stare, then mumble a few
disapproving words to an associate. It wasn't malicious. They were naturally
suspicious and careful about the disruption of their comfortable, familiar
environment.
The trip here
required little alteration to the toaster. Just a slight turn on a screw with
his thumbnail to realign where he was with where he was going, a quick jolt
like the jerk from a dog reaching the end of its lead, then he was here, ears
faintly jangling as though he'd brushed the porch windchime, the aroma of burnt
bread in his nose.
He could very
well have transported himself directly into the presence of the great Plant,
but, quite frankly, Hedge had no idea where the Plant was or what it looked
like.
In truth no one
seemed to know much about the Plant of Ultimate Knowing. They knew it was
ancient and omniscient, but outside of knowing it resided in the great garden
on planet Plant, nothing. Not what it looked like, not where it came from, not
even the last remarkable statement it had made. The notorious Plant was
shrouded in mystique, straddling the boundary between reality and mythology
like Confucius or Buddha or Jesus. The idea of the great Plant was so close to
perfect it filled the faithful with hope and left the cynical groping for
truth. Everyone had heard of it, everyone knew its counsel was sought in times
of great indecision, but no one seemed to have met it.
At least
puzzling through the mystery of the Plant's location allowed the enormity of
what he was doing to build slowly rather than crash upon him in a quick,
thundering smash. Searching for the Plant would provide time to gather his
thoughts, determine how best to phrase his question, and most importantly, give
him time enough to come to his senses and reconsider.
Speaking with
the Plant on this subject could easily be considered treason and he hoped the
Plant of Ultimate Knowing would either sympathize with the plight of humanity
and explain how Hedge could save them, or at the very least convince him the
Council was right. It was the great Plant of Ultimate Knowing that suggested
they study humanity in the first place.
If it had to be
the latter, and Hedge suspected it would be, he hoped the Plant would be kind
enough to satisfy itself with the knowledge that it had turned Hedge away from
disaster rather than tell the Council his aim in coming here. It was these
hopes that pressed him forward.
There had been
only one plant in history convicted of treason. A plant for whom history had no
name. All that remained to commemorate the ignominious existence of the traitor
plant was its unthinkable and mortifying crime, which rang through history as
clearly as a church bell calling the penitent to its door on a solemn Sunday
morning. This plant had attempted to blow up the Council, insisting plants had
no right to dictate the existences of other species. The plant was captured,
put on trial, and sentenced to be mulched.
Hedge
shuddered.
Mulched. How
horrific. Moreso when he thought he too may share such a fate. Become nameless
and reviled by an entire species. And not so long ago the largest of his
worries was the consumption of a few pork chops. How he missed that distant
world more than ever.
Hedge passed
through the vaulted aperture in the front of what Hedge had thought a building
from a
Similar Books
