Episode 8
Travelling Light E008S01 Transcript
H.R. Owen
Hello friends, Hero here. We're due a short break here at Monstrous HQ. Matt and I will be taking the next two weeks off – that means no episode on Thursday 4th or 11th of January, but we'll be back with Episode 9 on Thursday 18th. We're still around on social media though, so you can chat to us there or get in touch through the website. Look after yourselves, and we'll see you soon!
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H.R. Owen
Travelling Light: Episode Eight.
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The Traveller
Entry SH85024-8: A discussion of the role of the orchid species Tears of Illian in preservation and propagation.
Key words: botany and horticulture, environmental concerns, natural world, orchids, scientific research, Tears of Illian.
Notes:
As Annaliese and I took the transport back to the docks, she showed me the specimen she'd collected that day from the nearby wetlands. It was a species of orchid known locally as Tears of Illian, after a piece of folklore that related its creation to a sad tale of doomed love.
But I do not think it deserves such a melancholy name. It is very beautiful. Annaliese had collected it in a glass-sided container, so the gorgeous chaos of its roots were visible.
“This species is not a particularly rare one,” she told me. “It is found all over the wetlands and woodlands of this part of the planet, and grows extremely well when transplanted to alien soils. That's why it's so important to my research.
I don't know if you know this, but orchid seeds are absolutely tiny. They look motes of dust. They're so small, they don't actually have enough room in them to store a food supply for the seed itself.
Instead, they develop a symbiotic relationship with fungi which attach themselves to the seed. The orchid feeds on the fungus until it's developed enough to start photosynthesis.
Now, this is the interesting part. One of the reasons orchids don't tend to do well outside their natural habitat – on a foreign planet for example, or in a growth medium aboard a ship – is because they don't have access to the right fungus.
They've evolved alongside whichever fungus is specifically available in their home habitat. So every time somebody wants to propagate a new species in a lab or off-world or anywhere else, they first have to find precisely which fungi that species of orchid is able to form a symbiotic relationship.
And then they have to work out how to either grow the fungus itself or replicate its properties. It is enormously time-consuming and expensive, as you can imagine.
The vast majority of orchid species have never had their symbiotes catalogued, let alone reproduced, and the fact is, most won't. Which In turn means they can't be grown anywhere except where the fungus is naturally occurring. Which is all very well and good, provided nobody has any plans to build a town on top of that natural habitat, or to turn it into a tilly track or whatever. [laughs]
But Tears of Illian are different. Something about this species means it's is able to form a symbiotic relationship with really any fungus that comes its way. That's why it's so easy to propagate off-world. Well, you can imagine how exciting that is.
If we can find out what it is that makes the Tears of Illian orchid so adaptable, perhaps we can introduce that trait into other species.
Perhaps we can create strains of Glow-Bulb or Mountain Fox-Flower that are as resilient as the Tears of Illian, that can be propagated and grown successfully all across the galaxy. Wouldn't that be something?”
I agreed that it certainly would. “And is there,” I asked, “any particular benefit to the plants you could treat with this method? Medicinal uses or something of that nature?”
Annaliese laughed. [laughing] “Why! I had not taken you for a cold-hearted pragmatist. I don't know a single useful trait for any of the species this method would protect. But I think we would be much the worse without them, all the same. Don't you agree?”
[The sound of the data stick whirring fades back in, cutting out when the data stick is removed with a click.]
The Traveller
24th Shadoch 850 – continued.
Annaliese was keen to switch out of her powered leg-braces and back to the comfort of her mobility chair, so I volunteered to take the specimen she'd collected that day down to her laboratory and save her the trip. This done, there was just time to wash and dress before dinner.
Not that it is a very formal affair, you understand. It is only that I feel a little self-conscious among the scholars' robes and Wolph and Aman's uniforms, when I am in the well-worn, much-mended clothes that I prefer during the day.
So I freshened up a little and found something to wear that did not have too much visible darning.
For a change of company, I sat with Hesje, Doctor Duytren, and Operator Aman. The conversation was pleasant enough, mostly concerning a natural phenomenon taking place later that night.
“Have you heard much of this?” Hesje asked me. I confessed, I had not. “Really? Tsabec's been telling anyone they can catch, I didn't think it possible they might have missed anyone! [laughs]
“Let me see if I remember correctly. I believe it's a kind of tiny, bioluminescent creature that lives in the planet's southern oceans. Once every few years they swarm, or flock or, oh, whatever word it is. Breeding, I assume, or, uh, feeding, perhaps? Tsabec would know.”
“Breeding,” said Aman with certainty. “It is rather a feeding frenzy, but only for the creatures that eat the creature itself. And, naturally,” she added as an afterthought, “the things that prey on them.”
“I see,” I said. “It must be very important for the ecosystem, an event like that.”
Aman gave me an opaque look. “Quite.”
Hesje broke in. “It's supposed to be quite beautiful. That whole part of the ocean lights up in these fabulous colours!”
Operator Aman is a difficult person to read, but I think I saw indulgence on her face as she said, “I expect we'll be able to bring the ship around to the right spot. If you like.”
Hesje's face lit up. “Oh, that would be splendid! Do you really think?”
Aman gestured indifference. “We are scheduled to launch later tonight. I think we can allow ourselves a small detour.”
Hesje was delighted. They bustled off to tell the others and to start making plans to watch the phenomenon from the observation deck.
Doctor Duytren, who had been quiet for much of the meal, watched Hesje with a look less indulgent than sardonic.
“I've heard of this phenomenon. Apparently it was worshipped once by the people here. They saw it as some kind of visitation from one of their gods.”
After dinner, most of people retired to the common room.
Tsabec and Hesje, meanwhile, were so taken with the promise that we could view the phenomenon, and stayed behind in the refectory with Wolph to try and coax some suitably celebratory snacks out of the automated culinary system. I wished them all the best with that endeavour.
I was in my room when we uncoupled from the dock, with the usual noise and vibration. I came out into the corridor with every intention of going to the observation deck to sit with the others, but I found myself hesitating.
The corridor stretched out in both directions, up to the observation deck and down to the other cabins. I turned, and made my way… downards.
“There is something happening you may wish to see," I told Óli when they opened their door. “It should be visible from your cabin window.”
I had meant only to let them know, lest they'd missed the news, keeping to their cabin as they do. It seemed a sad thing for them to miss. But they stepped aside, gesturing me in.
“Please, come in,” they said.
I had to laugh when I saw their cabin. It was, in essentials, not very different to mine, save that it seemed Óli's luggage had suffered some kind of rapid decompression and strewn the place with all manner of glittering robes and folds of finely embroidered fabric.
“I-I-I do not have many visitors. It is all clean!” they said apologetically, moving a pile of clothes from one spot to another with no discernible effect. “There is just not so much storage here as I am used to. Uh, oh, do sit down.”
The desk chair was… in use, so I took a seat on the bunk. Óli sat beside me, and for a moment neither of us spoke.
“I am not hosting you very well, am I? [soft laugh] My parents would be appalled."
“I am making a note of it,” I said seriously, and their eyes danced as they heard the humour in it. Then, “We would be better at the window, I think. That is where we shall see it.”
Óli blinked. “Oh. Of course. Shall we?”
Their cabin window is a little larger than mine, and we stood together in a comfortable silence, watching as the planet streamed past below us, landscapes slipping into one another like falling water.
Finally, the Tola came to a stop, hovering in place high above a vast, dark ocean. We were not the other ship come to watch the phenomenon. I could see others dotted around, their lighted windows shining against the black.
At first, I took the light below for another ship. But it began to grow, spreading out from its centre until it seemed the whole ocean was filled with green and gold.
The light – the swarm – moved in swaying, swirling sweeps, drifting on some strange current.
I did not realise how far forwards I was leaning until my head bumped gently against the window. I looked and saw Óli doing the same, their face lit up with fascinated joy.
“They used to worship it,” I said, whispering so's not to break the moment. “They thought it was a god.”
Óli did not raise their eyes, but their smile, usually so rare and quiet, beamed forth. “Well. Wouldn't you?”
We watched the swirling lights for a long, long time, hardly breathing in the quiet. Then, below our feet, the Tola's engines started to surge.
The spell broke, and Óli looked at me for the first time since the swarm began. They were breathless and flushed, as if they had just woken from a pleasant dream.
“Will you stay?” they asked.
“I would love to.” That pleased them, I could tell. Then a flicker of doubt crossed their face.
“I have no, uh...” they began, and interrupted themselves with a sudden thought.
They rummaged around in their belongings until they pulled out a small box with an intricate pattern on the lid. Nestled inside were several shiny, jewel-like sweets.
Óli's eyes were bright, though their smile had returned to its habitual reserve. They pointed out one of the sweets.
“This one is my favourite,” they said, “but there are two in the box so I am prepared to be gracious and permit you one of them.”
Oh, my friends! [laughs] It has been a day of such kindness, such warmth. I could not wait to share it with you, so am writing this now rather than tucking myself up in bed where I belong. But with a heart so glad, I am certain I shall sleep very well.
I am sending this with all my love, as always. And I wish you all days of kindness and warmth, just as you deserve.
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H.R. Owen
Travelling Light was created by H.R. Owen and Matt McDyre, and is a Monstrous Productions podcast. This episode was written and performed by H.R. Owen.
This week’s entry to the archives was based on an idea by H.R. Owen, with accompanying artwork available on our social media accounts.
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