Post-Prometheus

The sojourn to sars chasm seemed a fruitless pursuit, unbecoming were the seekers; for which they came was a nameless subterfuge of idle speculations. Autumnal decomposition marked the trees with a shimmering emberous resonance of sappy dew, there I found something hanging in the autonomously formed terraced gardens.  

Manufactured landscapes could not escape the tenacious necessity of natures will, even in far away places beneath the veneer of technology and progress laid bare the essence of terrestrial comprehension; that of the impetuous protocols of being in permanent gestation to evolve its own creation.

Had we not the wherewithall to understand what was lost to our space gained. And so there it was dangling ornament, a vibrant glowing specimen of alien beauty betrothing me to its exotic erratic placidity.

Far from the artificial plasticity of nano-particles and meta-materials, compositions of neo-industrial might and inter-galactic necessity; the reason perhaps for the searching was more than just to seek.

Transfixed by the biophotonic illuminating pulsations emitting in synch with my breathe, closer it bode me, closer still, no ill except for the fright one feels before remember to forget what is not still apparent.

The mass splendour of its flowering branches clothed in oddly coloured moss and lichens, the strangely textured carpet like grass acting as a welcome mat, to conceal the roots and soil. The phosphorescent emanations like a phantasmagoric christmas tree.

In awe of observation being drawn to the symbiotic details of emergent order arising in these distant lifeforms, welcome strangers of the earth. 

The vibrancy of the moment transfixed under its spell, I couldn't maintain composure at the scent of its nectar imploring me to pluck it from its fragile abode.

Half expecting the tree to scream, I relented for a moment and then pursuant to the cause, did persist. Picking it as it were and in that moment like turning a key the grass pulled away to reveal the mycelium underground. The roots congealed into the center of the trunk. Stepping away from this phenomenon I observed the canopy of the crown also sink into the trunk. Appearing now as a barked cylinder it began to shake.

It was as though a deep pressure was building up inside of it, It condensed from perhaps 20 meters to all of 7. And then filled with its maximum density, and now violently trembling, it burst from the top like a canon, firing deep into the planetary atmosphere and beyond.

As the glow from the ejaculate (what else would you call it right?) dimmed out of visible range, I focused my attention back on the tree, which was now a hollow dark log. Within minutes where once stood a mighty tree, now a mound of rapidly decomposing mulch enmeshed with mycelium soon to be covered over with rapidly expanding grass.

I couldn't wait to get back to the ship and bring her this specimen, all that remained of the most fantastic thing I had ever experienced. When I brought her the fruit, I cut it in 2, it glowed bright orange with golden leaves and spattered with metallic pink hues. Inside was much more familiar, the hourglass shape and the seeds like those of apples.

Standing on the deck of Hesiod, watching the reflection of the triple moons rise upon the water.