For school I had to do a creative writing piece on or around a book we've read. I'm reading Day of The Triffids, quality book, and decided to write about 800 years in the future from the events of Day of The Triffids. IIiiNnNnnn SSSsSpPppPpAaAaacCCCeEEee!!!!
TRIFFIDS IN SPACE
It all seems rather odd to think of the events of the past. Over 800 years ago, the world was plowed into an event so dire that there seemed to be a large chance that the human race would cease to exist. Although, humanity has not the ability to just give up. As long as there is a will to survive, it seems impossible for humans to not survive. This catastrophe only achieved the throwing back of our technology some hundred years. Since then we have made many technological advancements; those which we would have made earlier had it not been for this event.
As the human race treks on, the Earth has become a hostile place. Its environment has suffered greatly over the years. So much so that it would be a dangerous thing to walk around on Earth without a gasmask. It is for this reason, among some minor others, that we are heading away from Earth. We are looking for suitable planets or moons to set up on. However, as this search could take hundreds of years to come up fruitful, great space stations have been in construction. Two of these space stations are currently floating in the abyss of space now, one is out near Jupiter, more closely observing its moons, and the other is heading in the same direction.
It is for the second station, The Ulteriori I, that I am so far from civilisation. I am traveling to it. I am journeying to the Ulteriori I to check on it. In deep space, we have not yet invented a way of communication. While short distance communication is available, across millions of kilometres we have nothing. So it is my job to fly to these stations, check on there progress, and fly back.
As I approached the enormous Ulteriori I, I could not help but be impressed by it. Although I have seen this ship six times earlier in person and a countless number of times in images and videos, it is still such a sight to behold. It is a huge cylinder, wider in some parts than others, with four rings constantly spinning around it. The outer side of these rings is a thick unbreakable glass. Looking closely, greenery can be seen through the closest ring. An entire suburban landscape lies in it. Rectangular glass houses are neatly spread apart around a long lake that runs the length of the ring. Two other rings have higher density housing in it. White rectangular apartments are organised in sections with sections of forests. These forests are a necessity in every ring to provide the oxygen for its inhabitants and to provide a home for some of Earthâ€™s fauna, those lucky enough to be saved from Earth. The fourth ring is a sanctuary for a bigger range of Earthâ€™s creatures and plants. It is divided into several sections, which have different temperatures and climates for the different animals.
Close enough to begin communications with the captain of the Ulteriori, I hail the ship; no response. I wait a few seconds before hailing again; still no response. I linger outside of the station a few more minutes and decide to dock with the ship. I slowly move into the docking bay in the middle of the station. There is not a person in sight. I land the ship. No movement is visible. I get out of the ship and stand there questioning. I could only hear silence. Not even the familiar humming of the engines. I decide upon walking to the control room of the station. My steps become very loud amongst this silence. Each one echoes throughout the entire room as if I am clapping my hands together on a cliff. Slightly frightened of the lack of any living creatures, I whistle to myself.
Walking through the main hall, I notice something moving in the distance. I call out, thinking it might be a person. It stays on its original route without noticing me. I run up towards it and realise what it is; a triffid.
Triffids are grown on every large space ship, station, or satellite. They provide the fuel to power their huge engines. These plants were a large part of humanities struggle for survival during the catastrophe 800 years ago. The plants have lethal stingers that can lash out at people over a distance of five feet. The plants, despite harsh criticism, are still being used because they have been the only way long-distance space travel has been achieved. They provide huge amounts of fuel due to the fact that they grow. When some of the plants are taken for fuel, more of them grow. Itâ€™s almost a perpetual cycle, which means that long-distance space travel is very possible.
Looking at the triffid, I wonder how it could possibly have escaped. Looking up the hall I also notice some figures lying in the hall. They were bodies. I made the connection. Triffids have taken over the station. I knew I would have to get back to my ship. I get up and turn around to go back. But to my horror, I see three Triffids blocking the way. I was in a bad position, with no weapons to fight them I had no chance but to move forward and hope I can get to the nearest door without the first triffid getting near me. I succeed, moving very carefully until I was close enough to sprint for the door. This door was an airlock and I had to walk up a long corridor, which would lead me to the suburban ring. Bodies littered the corridor. I see one man, his blonde hair tainted red with blood, in an engineers jumpsuit and holding an anti-triffid gun. I pick it up, check that itâ€™s loaded with disc-projectiles, and take the remaining discs from the body. I run back down the corridor to get rid of those four triffids and return to my ship. I run into the hallway and against the opposite wall, there were six triffids down the corridor now, still only one behind me. I leave it be and shoot at the other six. Crouching down, I succeed in hitting two of them with one disc. The hallway is rather thin. I reload the gun and fire again. This time Iâ€™m not so lucky and only clip one. I fire for a third time and take another down. Three left and Iâ€™m out of ammunition. I run back into the corridor. I wait a little while, my back against the closed air lock. Catching my breath, I hear noise behind me. Triffid guns were being fired. I open the airlock and see a dozen or so people rushing down the hall towards me, firing at the triffids. I call out to them and after finishing off the triffids they come up to me. A tall man at the front speaks to me, â€œMate! Weâ€™ve been waiting for weeks for you to show up, what took you?â€. I reply telling him I had no idea about what had been happening here. â€œMy ship could not fit all of you in it, it is rather smallâ€, I tell him, thinking he would ask to be taken away from the station. â€œNo, mate, weâ€™ve got our own ship here, just not any supplies for the journey, you have enough for two ships?â€ he asks. â€œWhy, yes, I should think soâ€, I reply.
We begin the journey back to Earth, noting the stations position to come back to it. The journey is a long one back, but at least now I have company.
going away - Art & Literature Corner
Triffids in Space and Other Short Stories by ParkerFarker
ParkerFarker at 5:25AM, June 21, 2010
"We are in the stickiest situation since Sticky the stick insect got stuck on a sticky bun." - Blackadder
last edited on July 14, 2011 2:39PM
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