Cool stories. I want a picture of Christ-Borg. 
I wrote a little story, imagining some people who have never heard or conceived of any religion, and how they react under stress. I haven't come up with a title as yet.
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Grim death approached, and none of us doubted that. The danger was always lurking, and none could escape it, even the children. We were just over two dozen altogether, trapped here in this place after our long journey. We had enough provisions to tide us over till we could raise a crop, if we were careful, but in the dark there was a creature that carried off one of our number from time to time, and mangled them unto death, sparing neither woman nor child.
I write these words in dark secrecy, in the hope that someone from the outside might one day recover them, and know of us.
We were in a large valley, surrounded by an immense and hostile desert. The valley had a stream in it, and was somewhat hospitable, but the walls were so thick and steep, and the place so deep and unknown, that no one had even a faint hope of an escape--apart from Mr. Perry, that is, and he was clearly mad.
Still, I could not blame Mr. Perry. The pressure on all of us was enormous. We tried not to think of it most times, and at least we mostly kept the horrid truth from the children. We pasted on our best smiles for them, and I daresay it did us some good, as we were able to forget for a little while the inexorable approach of that dark and nameless monster.
Mrs. Forrest had the hardest time, I suppose. She would try to play along in comforting the children, but would inevitably break down into a chilling sort of insane laughter, which distressed everyone, most particularly her son David. He would ask her what was the matter, and she would cry, and he would go to comfort her. I could see how she hated herself for failing to keep her terror from him, but no one could really blame her.
Mr. Perry seemed to be going along with the idea at first, but as time went on it became clear that he had lost his grip. He began to talk of magic and such, insisting that some great wizard would come and rescue us. We all sadly smiled at first, thinking it another story to calm the children, and really I think that is what he meant to accomplish at the start. But he became increasingly agitated about it, offering up spurious and fantastic proofs, claiming even to have spoken to this wizard of his through some arcane means.
Mr. Cromwell was especially annoyed by this, and told Mr. Perry to stop his nonsense. Mr. Perry flew into a rage, and the both of them had to be restrained. Some hours later, Mr. Perry produced a sheaf of papers containing the most bizarre sorts of rambling, and claimed it was from the Wizard. Cromwell scoffed at it, of course, and none of us took it very seriously, apart from Mrs. Forrest, but it seemed to comfort her where nothing else had, so we said little.
Professor Williams took the papers and began to examine them. Cromwell scoffed at him, too--great scoffer, that Cromwell--and said "Can't you see at once these are nonsense? What are you studying there, so closely. Why, a child could see they are in Perry's own handwriting." But Professor Williams ignored this and went on studying the documents for some time.
Little Jimmy Ness came to me that evening, and asked me if I thought the Wizard would come and save us. I was at a loss, for I didn't want to even admit we were in such danger, but of course I could not deny him. I said it was just possible, and that seemed to satisfy, for he ran off to tell his friends, and they all seemed to take to bed a deal easier than was usual.
Cromwell was much astonished when, on the following morning, Professor Williams announced that the papers were genuine. For all his ready scoffing, I had thought I would never see him speechless, but that did it--for a moment, at least.
With that pronouncement, the Wizard Papers swiftly grew in importance and popularity among our number. Even Perry himself seemed mildly surprised, but swiftly recovered, accepting the admiration of his colleagues at finding the precious documents. Cromwell recovered his tongue in a while, but was shouted down by more than half the company.
Mr. Bonefish asked if he could study the Wizard Papers for a time, and this was granted as we all sat round and chattered brightly about it all. Some claimed to have known it all along, and many exclaimed at the wisdom and generosity of the great Wizard and his spokesman, Perry. Perry, for his part, seemed a little dazed by all the attention, but went along with it well enough. Some few raised questions, such as old Mrs. Welles who wanted to know why the Wizard didn't show up and save us now.
Well, from the edge of our little group came the unpleasant voice of Mr. Bonefish. "Why, Mrs. Welles? Well I will tell you, if you claim you don't know. Didn't you take more than your share of food last night?"
Mrs. Welles was outraged, but it turned out she had taken some extra, and some had seen it, though no one made much of it at the time. She claimed it was for her ailing daughter, but Bonefish dismissed that, and called her a thief. She might have killed him--she certainly wanted to--but we held her back, and tried to calm things down.
She wanted to know what taking food had to do with anything, and Bonefish said it was because the Wizard wouldn't bother saving such wicked folk as she.
Well that is where it started. Over the next little while it seemed Bonefish was everywhere. Even Perry was brushed aside, and Professor Williams was accused of heresy, though none but Bonefish seemed to know what heresy was. Cromwell, now, he was...well, it is awful to think of it.
He stood up to Bonefish, called him a fool and a liar, said the Wizard Papers were so much nonsense. Mothers clapped their hands over the ears of their children and looked on Cromwell with shock and hatred. Cromwell talked about how the Wizard was only an invention of Mr. Perry, and the Papers were all rubbish and drivel, and I don't know if Bonefish might have let him live but the others got to him first, and burned him alive.
Even gentle mad old Mrs. Forrest threw a stick or two of furniture on the pyre, saying "How dare he say that the Wizard won't rescue my little David. Of course he will. Of course he will."
I wrote a little story, imagining some people who have never heard or conceived of any religion, and how they react under stress. I haven't come up with a title as yet.
-----------------------
Grim death approached, and none of us doubted that. The danger was always lurking, and none could escape it, even the children. We were just over two dozen altogether, trapped here in this place after our long journey. We had enough provisions to tide us over till we could raise a crop, if we were careful, but in the dark there was a creature that carried off one of our number from time to time, and mangled them unto death, sparing neither woman nor child.
I write these words in dark secrecy, in the hope that someone from the outside might one day recover them, and know of us.
We were in a large valley, surrounded by an immense and hostile desert. The valley had a stream in it, and was somewhat hospitable, but the walls were so thick and steep, and the place so deep and unknown, that no one had even a faint hope of an escape--apart from Mr. Perry, that is, and he was clearly mad.
Still, I could not blame Mr. Perry. The pressure on all of us was enormous. We tried not to think of it most times, and at least we mostly kept the horrid truth from the children. We pasted on our best smiles for them, and I daresay it did us some good, as we were able to forget for a little while the inexorable approach of that dark and nameless monster.
Mrs. Forrest had the hardest time, I suppose. She would try to play along in comforting the children, but would inevitably break down into a chilling sort of insane laughter, which distressed everyone, most particularly her son David. He would ask her what was the matter, and she would cry, and he would go to comfort her. I could see how she hated herself for failing to keep her terror from him, but no one could really blame her.
Mr. Perry seemed to be going along with the idea at first, but as time went on it became clear that he had lost his grip. He began to talk of magic and such, insisting that some great wizard would come and rescue us. We all sadly smiled at first, thinking it another story to calm the children, and really I think that is what he meant to accomplish at the start. But he became increasingly agitated about it, offering up spurious and fantastic proofs, claiming even to have spoken to this wizard of his through some arcane means.
Mr. Cromwell was especially annoyed by this, and told Mr. Perry to stop his nonsense. Mr. Perry flew into a rage, and the both of them had to be restrained. Some hours later, Mr. Perry produced a sheaf of papers containing the most bizarre sorts of rambling, and claimed it was from the Wizard. Cromwell scoffed at it, of course, and none of us took it very seriously, apart from Mrs. Forrest, but it seemed to comfort her where nothing else had, so we said little.
Professor Williams took the papers and began to examine them. Cromwell scoffed at him, too--great scoffer, that Cromwell--and said "Can't you see at once these are nonsense? What are you studying there, so closely. Why, a child could see they are in Perry's own handwriting." But Professor Williams ignored this and went on studying the documents for some time.
Little Jimmy Ness came to me that evening, and asked me if I thought the Wizard would come and save us. I was at a loss, for I didn't want to even admit we were in such danger, but of course I could not deny him. I said it was just possible, and that seemed to satisfy, for he ran off to tell his friends, and they all seemed to take to bed a deal easier than was usual.
Cromwell was much astonished when, on the following morning, Professor Williams announced that the papers were genuine. For all his ready scoffing, I had thought I would never see him speechless, but that did it--for a moment, at least.
With that pronouncement, the Wizard Papers swiftly grew in importance and popularity among our number. Even Perry himself seemed mildly surprised, but swiftly recovered, accepting the admiration of his colleagues at finding the precious documents. Cromwell recovered his tongue in a while, but was shouted down by more than half the company.
Mr. Bonefish asked if he could study the Wizard Papers for a time, and this was granted as we all sat round and chattered brightly about it all. Some claimed to have known it all along, and many exclaimed at the wisdom and generosity of the great Wizard and his spokesman, Perry. Perry, for his part, seemed a little dazed by all the attention, but went along with it well enough. Some few raised questions, such as old Mrs. Welles who wanted to know why the Wizard didn't show up and save us now.
Well, from the edge of our little group came the unpleasant voice of Mr. Bonefish. "Why, Mrs. Welles? Well I will tell you, if you claim you don't know. Didn't you take more than your share of food last night?"
Mrs. Welles was outraged, but it turned out she had taken some extra, and some had seen it, though no one made much of it at the time. She claimed it was for her ailing daughter, but Bonefish dismissed that, and called her a thief. She might have killed him--she certainly wanted to--but we held her back, and tried to calm things down.
She wanted to know what taking food had to do with anything, and Bonefish said it was because the Wizard wouldn't bother saving such wicked folk as she.
Well that is where it started. Over the next little while it seemed Bonefish was everywhere. Even Perry was brushed aside, and Professor Williams was accused of heresy, though none but Bonefish seemed to know what heresy was. Cromwell, now, he was...well, it is awful to think of it.
He stood up to Bonefish, called him a fool and a liar, said the Wizard Papers were so much nonsense. Mothers clapped their hands over the ears of their children and looked on Cromwell with shock and hatred. Cromwell talked about how the Wizard was only an invention of Mr. Perry, and the Papers were all rubbish and drivel, and I don't know if Bonefish might have let him live but the others got to him first, and burned him alive.
Even gentle mad old Mrs. Forrest threw a stick or two of furniture on the pyre, saying "How dare he say that the Wizard won't rescue my little David. Of course he will. Of course he will."
And the Lord God spake unto them, saying, "A Great Fire be bound within all things, and know ye that be it unleashed, its energy shall be as like its mass, multiplied by the swiftness of the light, and so multiplied again." And they were much amazed. --II Physicists, Chapter IV, verses 5-8.
