An Area Where Water Flows Over A Vertical Drop Moiromma: Iazrak [Part II, to Johannes’ Strange Acquaintance] #22

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Moiromma: Iazrak [Part II, to Johannes’ Strange Acquaintance] #22

Little is known about this man, but I will tell you what is known about him. Beneath the four hundred feet of Moiroma’s ice is a dead planet, like Earth’s moon; Like a big snowball in heaven, Moiroma might be better described. But, as I was about to say, beneath this ball of snow and ice the seas and rivers that were once adorned with streams of water and flowers everywhere, are now tunnels, caves, and sink holes. This planet was once alive and beautiful, one of the most amazing disks in the solar system, but now its inhabitants are fossilized. And like the Earth it had its destructive times, its meteor bombardments, if you will; its volcanic disturbances; Its tsunami is crushing Moiromma: Iazrak [Part II, to Johannes’ Strange Acquaintance] #22 The waves were not all that long ago when all the ice ages were prevalent, taking over the planet, soaking deep into the planetary crust. At that time an earthquake occurred which caused a vertical displacement of thirty-five miles. It was the largest earthquake the planet had ever seen. He threw ice, land and living creatures and animals into his cold abyss.

Tsunami waves traveled through the ice at eight hundred miles an hour, giving no warning to the planet’s inhabitants, faster than any seismic wave they had ever endured. There is no such thing as a warning system on Moiromma, everyone can stop for themselves someone will say. They never knew what hit them, yet it happens every decade, none more so than the most recent one.

At this the sheets of ice opened like a spout of water, throwing snow forty feet into the air, and whatever was upon it. Two thousand residents died. This caused the planet to move off its axis. Due to the intensity of this earthquake, everyone was running for several days.

Izraq [or IK for short], brother of Jokanen, and friend of the old king of Moiromma, was a man of honor and might under the name of cruelty on Moiromma; Which of course is a virtue there. Unlike his peers, he had never died, not even once. He lived on the ice island, on the ice with a moat around his little ice castle. In the evening many villagers would visit IK with their families for a few hours, where he alone would tell all the stories he could remember of the comings and goings of the many inhabitants of the known planets. , to include the old kings who once ruled the planet and his great fight with the enemy. He was one of those peacemakers you might say, but was not very involved in politics. He was more of a visionary, an eccentric type and encouraged everyone to lead a harmonious life. Warriors of old spoke of the wars that took place before the snow came to Moiroma and how the old kings fought the mountain lords. He had said that there were many trees on the planet at one time which gave the Lords great shelter from the Archking of Moir I and his son King Moir II. And he mentioned the cobblestone streets and long summer days that were part of Moiroma in the past. And all his listeners, some two hundred people from nearby villages, used to listen to his stories night after night.

Sometimes he creates a lot of excitement with stories, what he wanted to do was make-up, to entertain people, add fiction to reality you can say; But some took for them a suspicious motive, if not a proper contempt; Through fear, hatred and ignorance, thus, they plotted his death, his death, his murder. There were three zealots in the village who hatched this conspiracy.

It seems that they were a stranger walking through the village, IK was a sort of mayor, without a title, but he had a single spokesperson and would do so when the residents asked him to impart wisdom on their deliberations. Naturally this infuriated the three conspirators, also evil doers, who wanted to dominate the village for their own gain.

Assassins, they were, because their themes and plots could not be seen any other way; So, the day approached when the crime was imprinted on their brains and they committed to move forward. When one looks at this picture, one remembers that the planet had only small, very small villages for the most part, because the king died in the war and was moved to another planet, thus it was mostly populated by cell groups. , hunting groups, or as I mentioned, small villages. There were only 20,000 inhabitants on the entire planet. And those who did not live in cell groups or family packs, and some with two or three families living in a pack, lived in hermit style or by themselves; You might ask when city-states are more productive and protective, and I don’t have an answer, it’s just as it was. Next, let’s not forget the assassins, because they are just beyond the horizon, setting their plans in motion. There is no discipline, no law and no limits without law, thus, the killers thought: Who can harm us? Greed and lust or control of power, and the little material wealth offered in the village, they wanted to use that power.

It so happened that a rumor spread throughout the village that Izraq would die if he stayed in the village, and this reached the ears of the villagers. One might conclude that this was actually meant to scare Izarak, not kill him, psychological warfare. But this was not to be, the villagers were helpless on Izraq’s side, he accepted the wishes of the people to ‘be careful and remain in the village’.

Jokanen – begs her brother to stop his meeting in hopes of stopping the assassins’ evil will but a dark plot against his life is about to be hatched.

It would be fair to say that since then no one in the village has slept as easily, as before; In fact, they slept so uneasily, a strange thing happened. One morning IK saw through his frosted window the whole village deserted; Only he and the three assassins were left. Therefore, this little nest of present chaos has lost its controlling element, its power-grid; Its life support, reason to kill.

As time passes, the three drink rat liquor and ice-bug wine; The chaos of life on Moiroma was back–for the most part, as it had been [bleak and dreary], but without any neighbors. The lust of life was lost in the eyes of the three. Shortly after this period his sister asked him to leave and join a cell group, thus, retelling his stories and adding one to the one you just heard. And to be honest, he was very happy as a storyteller.

Note: Both (Parts I and II), stories, in draft form written on 12/27/04; Rewrote 1/2/05. Revised, 6/14/05 “The story of The Cadaverous Planets #22

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