"A Long, Long Time Ago…"

A work of Sonic the Hedgehog "Fan-faction" by Glazius Falconar

A few technicalities...

This story and all new characters (specifically, Glazius Taladas Falconar, Professor Turalyon Raptarius, and the Mark V TDC) are copyright 1997 by the author, Glazius Falconar (aka Paul Arezina). I've read enough fanfic to know what title 17 (the copyright law) does and does not allow; you can’t change this story or charge others money to read it without my expressed written consent. All situations and characters from the Sonic the Hedgehog Saturday morning cartoon series, as aired on ABC, are copyright SEGA, DiC, and/or Archie Comics, and are used (or at least referred to here) without permission. The concept of the World Wide Web is copyright H.G. Wells, in his "Men Like Gods". Read it sometime. If you think something in this should be changed, or you’d like to post it on your site, or you just feel the need to write me, my email is at the end. The title comes from "American Pie", written by Don McLean. Special thanks to Dan Drazen and the incomparable team of Robert Brown and Francis Tolbert, whose fanfics inspired my account of early Mobian history.

I’m in my dorm room again, or at least a rough approximation of it. Mark shoved it out of the primary timestream when he placed it in suspension, and he’s "reconnected it", as it were, to the base of operations I’ve set up in the forest. The base is protected by the same "psychic cloak" that keeps me free from detection and further covered by the illusion of an impenetrable tangle of tree limbs. If push comes to shove, I can modulate the cloak to plant a momentary suggestion in the minds of any approaching sapients to turn back. It should also work with the robots Mark’s picked up on his wide-range scan, although there’s only one way to know for sure…

But enough of fantasizing. I’ve tested out everything in the dorm; my computer seems to be functioning perfectly, as is my replicator, even though I know there’s no suitable power source for miles. I’ve even managed to log into the Avis NetWorld from my computer with no visible connections. Now I wish I’d paid better attention when Professor Raptarius was lecturing about folding spacetime through higher dimensions…

The Professor! I’d almost forgotten that I wanted to contact him. From what I’ve read of previous "Semesters in Space", nothing like this has ever happened before. The planet I’ve chosen to study, Mobius Prime, is in a state of civil war. Acts which I could ordinarily perform, like taking blood samples or conducting archaeological digs, might disrupt one of the many battles which Mark has picked up being fought all over the globe. The slightest action could change the course of this war and drastically modify the course civilization here will take. The Prime Law strictly forbids any interference, but how can I do any amount of research without breaking it? The Professor is my advisor; he should be able to help me. The vid-link connection is open in the blink of an eye.

"Professor Raptarius!"

"Ah, Glazius. Reporting back so soon? I assume you’ve found something revolutionary, then?"

"I wish it were that simple, Professor. Somehow, this planet has managed to develop… well, look for yourself!" I replayed Mark’s holographic recording of my first few moments on this planet; the pollution-covered metropolis, the explosion, and the strange blue blur played before the Professor’s eyes.

He seemed taken aback. "Oh my… it’s been discovered already?"

"No, Professor, Mark hasn’t picked up any signs of alien landing. And Avis Prime is the only planet in the universe with the technology to fold spacetime and teleport matter. This planet is in a state of civil war!"

"Oh my…" he repeated, and seemed to be trying to remember something… "You realize there is no precedent for this?"

"Yes, I do. What are the odds of such a thing happening? Trillions to one, surely."

"Greater than that even, Glazius. Wars are by nature short-lived, and the odds against encountering one…" He trailed off. "The Academy won’t recall you or change your mission, the rules specify that very clearly."

My heart fell. I couldn’t conduct research here without risking a violation of the Prime Law. I had hoped to transfer… "But, Professor, the Prime Law…"

"…Won’t let you perform very much in the way of research in this case, Glazius. I know. Perhaps the Academy would consent to… Yes, they just might, they just might…"

"Just might what, Professor?"

"I don’t want to get your hopes up, Glazius. If they do consent, I’ll be sure and let you know. Safe journeys, Glazius." The connection blinked off.

I sighed. "Safe journeys, Professor…"

I spent the next few hours ordering Mark to do some clandestine scans of the planet. Tapping into the planet’s rudimentary computer network would do little, if any, good. I couldn’t conceal my access at all, and whatever lived in that pollution-swathed city would probably assume it was the work of the guerillas living in the forest. He might dispatch a strike team to trace the connection, and… No, I would definitely not be able to connect to the network. Perhaps if I did a bit of spying… but that would be only as a last resort. I’d be microns away from breaking the Prime Law at every step. As things currently stood, scanning the planet was the best way to pick up information.

I simply flew a few times over the continent I was currently on, psychic cloak securely in place, and had Mark actively log all the data it was receiving. The Falconar clan has always been renowned for its speed; that, and the fact that the microscopic air generator I’d encased in my Academy-issue neckband could let me fly and breathe normally at the ionospheric level, enabled me to finish my preliminary scans in a matter of hours.

I returned to my dorm away from home to analyze the data Mark had gathered. "Mark, display map of planet Mobius Prime, as compiled from recent data scan."

"Working, Glazius…"

I hoped that the rumors I’d heard about the Mark V’s outstanding resolution of images weren’t mere fiction. I couldn’t see much from my vantage point a few thousand wingspans up, and I hoped Mark could resolve some of the immediate concerns I had about the planet. Like, had that industrial infestation spread elsewhere? How big was it, anyway? What kind of life still remained on this planet? How did… Mark trilled into life.

"Compilation completed, Glazius. Displaying current overhead view of planet Mobius Prime, emphasis on primary continent in Northern Hemisphere."

"Mark, display side-by-side with map gleaned from last Avis flyby."

"Displaying…"

I breathed a sigh of relief. That polluted mega-complex only occupied a small region of the continent. However, many of the areas which were lush and green on the last flyby had been reduced to barren wastelands. That cloud of pollution had to come from something burning, after all, and whatever lived in that city had apparently used up over one-third of the continent’s natural forestland in creating it. To say nothing of the other resources it had plundered… I am definitely recommending this planet for Avis intervention, no matter which way the war turns out. We’ll either need to stop that pestilence from spreading elsewhere or aid the native creatures in rebuilding their homes, Prime Law be hanged. Avis Prime was once covered in pollution, and it was only through the timely innovations of our ecologists and industrial scientists that we were able to breathe life back into it. I don’t think anyone on Avis Prime would stand by and let another planet suffer a similar fate. I was rooting for the guerillas…

Which reminded me… "Mark, update currently displayed map with probable location of sapient habitation." Even guerillas have a base…

"Displaying requested overlay, Glazius."

Hmmm… it seemed that I had guessed correctly when I assumed that that blue blur and whoever he was carrying lived in the forest. There was a high probability of a settlement in the forest, a slightly lower probability of an underground one in the wasteland our flyby had picked up, and… what in the… an underground one directly below the smog-covered city! Those guerillas have guts, I’ll give them that… There was also a moderate probability of habitation… My vid-link suddenly blinked on. The Professor appeared on the screen.

"Ah, Glazius, good to see I caught you inside. The Academy has consented, and…"

"Consented to what, Professor?"

"Remember when I lectured on the nature of time? I told you that, according to my own theories, it could be possible to shift timestreams relative to each other…"

"To time travel while avoiding a ton of paradoxes, like the ‘Feemster meets himself’ one, or the one about shooting your own father. Yes, I remember."

"Well… it’s not just a theory. I perfected such a device some time ago."

My beak gaped open. The Professor let out a chuckle. "Yes, that’s why the Academy hired a nutcase like me…" It was true. Most teachers at the Academy of Sciences were unemotional, to say the least. The Professor stuck out like a peacock in a flock of… well… falcons. "At any rate, this device of mine requires an amazing amount of computational accuracy to function effectively…"

"Meaning it would have to be coupled with, say… a Mark V?"

"Exactly right, Glazius, exactly right. And the portability of the Mark V would enable two-way shifting of the timestream. A larger device couldn’t generate the energy to translate both its user’s and its own timestreams. Now, the potential for breaking the Prime Law is immense, to say the least, so I’ve included a few safeguards. In any timestream other than your native one, you will only be able to see still action; you cannot interact with the past or future worlds in any way. However, you can opt to bring other objects in sync with your own alien timestream. Don’t worry, Mark should know enough about the Prime Law to instruct you in the proper methods for taking samples and such. To be frank, I think it’s a bit overprotective, but the Academy insisted that I put the safeguards in place before I sent you the device."

"You mean…?"

"Yes, Glazius. You will have the power to stop time and move back and forth in time at will. That should enable you to collect enough information to satisfy the Academy’s standards. And don’t worry about missing your teleport back home; Mark will automatically shift you to your base in your native timestream when we’re ready to take you back."

"Professor, this is just too… I don’t know how to thank you…"

"Come now, Glazius. No need for all that. You are my prize student, after all, and just think of what the Academy will say when Raptarius’s pride and joy successfully field-tests the TST!"

"TST?"

"Time-Stream Translator, of course. What else would I call it? At any rate, I’ll probably be getting enough acclaim out of this to last a lifetime. Don’t worry about thanking me, Glazius; just come back safely."

"Will do, Professor, will do. Safe journeys."

"Safe journeys, Glazius."

The vid-link blinked off, and a small capsule appeared on the replicator pad. I asked Mark to scan the capsule, and it did so, outlining in a brilliant blue the area where the Professor’s unit was to be inserted. It clicked into place nicely, and Mark began running diagnostics on the unit. Traveling through time… my mind boggled at the concept, but what little I remembered of the Professor’s lectures reassured me that I wouldn’t be rending the fabric of the universe with my little explorations. Mark trilled, breaking me out of my reverie. "Diagnostics complete, Glazius. TST is fully operational."

"Excellent, Mark, excellent. Do you still remember how old this planet is?"

"Affirmative, Glazius. Data from radioactive decay scan still present in memory banks. Internal storage space currently at 0.0001% of maximum capacity."

"Alright then, Mark, take me to about two billion years after the appearance of solid rock on Mobius." That ought to get me within striking distance of life, assuming things evolved here the same as on Avis Prime.

"Beginning translation, Glazius…"

The world went black for an instant, and I blinked back into existence a few hundred meters above the surface of… a barren wasteland. Well, what did I expect, a jungle? "Mark, teleport me to the nearest shore."

"Teleportation impossible unless in native timestream."

Apparently, Mark couldn’t process the spacetime folds that let me teleport and the ones keeping me in this past timestream concurrently. Even supercomputers have limits, after all… "Very well, Mark, just plot a course. I’ll fly there."

"Affirmative, Glazius. Plotting course…" A red holographic arrow appeared, pointing a few degrees east of my current heading. I activated my portable air generator (Ever try flying through air molecules frozen in time? It ain’t pretty.) and took off. A few minutes later, I was approaching a seashore. "Mark, scan for plant life within 3 meters’ depth of high tide."

"Scanning, Glazius… Monocellular colonial algae detected, 1.5 meters below high tide."

Excellent, excellent! By some freak of chance, this planet’s life was developing slightly faster than Avis Prime’s had. With any luck at all… "Mark, current position relative to native timestream."

"Current position is approximately 1.5 billion years prior to native timestream."

Good, good… "Mark, shift me 1 billion years into the future."

"Translating, Glazius…"

The blackness again, and then… Yes! Plants I could see. "Mark, distance to nearest shore."

"Approximately 2.5 kilometers, Glazius."

"Distance to edge of vegetation frontier?"

"Scanning… vegetation extends to opposite shore of continent."

Excellent! The planet was covered in plants.

"Mark, scan for animal life on the surface."

"Scan complete. Negligible animal life present. However, complex multicellular non-photosynthetic organisms are detected on ocean floor."

Excellent, excellent! "Mark, take me forward another 400 million years."

"Translating, Glazius…"

More blackness. I emerged above a jungle of sorts, filled with plants similar to the giant ferns which once grew on Avis Prime. "Mark, scan for non-photosynthetic life."

"Scanning… Several instances of non-photosynthetic life observed on surface. Scan seems to indicate exoskeletal coverings or land aquatic habitats. No creatures observed similar to modern sapients."

Good, good… "Mark, take me to… oh… 25,000 years before native timestream."

"Translating, Glazius…"

The blackness again, briefer this time. "Mark, scan for precursors of current sapients."

"Scanning, Glazius… several precursors found, most mammalian in nature."

"Any civilizations yet?"

"Scanning… Negative, Glazius."

"Okay, then. Let’s take a tour of this continent."

"Affirmative, Glazius. Please provide proper height for surface scan to generate map."

I activated my air generator and climbed to the ionosphere. Mark twittered a few times as I swept it across the continent. The air was much clearer without the pollution obscuring everything. I dove back down to near ground level and began micro-fluttering. I thanked my father for teaching me the ancient technique; I sent ripples along my wings while slowly moving them up and down and concentrating on remaining stationary. I was able to hover, much like that strange class of Terran avians called "hummingbirds." Mark trilled. "Map compiled, Glazius. Displaying…"

"Display latest flyby scan side-by-side, Mark."

"Complying, Glazius…"

Good. Not much had happened to the continent in the last 25,000 years. That saved me a bit of work. However, that desolate area the last flyby spotted was forested here in the past. Another mystery to explain… I activated my air generator and took off for a quick tour. Hmm… most of the mammalian species here were exceedingly similar to Terran species. Then again, the forests were quite similar to Terran forests. Another point for convergent evolution. I prepared to have a look at the beginnings of civilization. "Mark, take me to…" No. This wasn’t right. I should have to do at least some thinking to come up with my answers. If I could get most of them by using the Professor’s device, what would the Academy think? What would the Professor think? Besides, I needed something to get my brain working if I was to solve the mystery of that metallic metropolis and that strange blue blur. I just hoped that the metropolis hadn’t always been there. Mark trilled. "To when, Glazius?"

"To 50 years before native timestream. And when I get there, guide me to the coordinates I established my base at."

"Affirmative, Glazius."

A brief flash of blackness, then… a rather familiar forest. Mark’s red arrow pointed me to my base, or at least where my base would be, 50 years hence. I arrived at the coordinates, which I’d chosen because they were in view of that metropolis. "Mark, point me in the direction of the polluted city in my native timestream."

"Already oriented in said direction, Glazius."

I had been right. That metropolis had been a recent development. The sky was clear in the direction I faced. I unclipped my high-resolution digital binoculars from my belt and held them up to my eyes. Hey, even a falcon’s eyesight occasionally needs help. "Mark, link with binoculars and set zoom to provide 1:100 ratio of portrayed images to actual."

"Linking, Glazius…"

The image I saw went fuzzy for a second, and then… oh my… it was beautiful! I saw a city which looked as though it had been carved of white marble. Beautiful fountains gushed crystal-clear water at almost every intersection. Parks and gardens were everywhere. It reminded me a bit of the beauty of the Academy. How could something this beautiful become so ugly in such a short period of time? Who or what could do such a thing? I swept the binoculars around the city and saw… sapients. Sapients of every species imaginable, even a few creatures similar to Terran humans. Usually, only one family or perhaps one genus of animals becomes sapient on a planet; Avis Prime’s frequent earthquakes and floods forced most creatures into the air rather early. As such, flying creatures were dominant, and the relative distance between "safe spots" on the planet prevented one civilization from exterminating another, allowing almost uniform development of sapience in all creatures resembling Terran birds. But such a huge variety on a more stable planet was completely unexpected. Probably, various microclimates developed on Mobius Prime’s continent, each climate being best suited to one or two orders of mammal. That could explain the diversity, but how would these creatures keep from tearing each other apart? I had to have answers. I reasoned that a library must exist in a city of this size; all that remained was to find it.

Air generator on, I flew through the forest towards the city. I touched down just outside its perimeter. I realized I’d probably need some sort of translation device; Avis Prime bird-scrawl is a rather unique method of writing. "Mark, what will you need to provide me with a translation of written materials?"

"Processing request, Glazius. At least 1 million words of this language will be required to effect a translation."

Hmm… if the creatures were mammalian in nature… "Mark, scan area for objects similar to Terran ‘books’." Mark complied with my request, and a few minutes later I was standing in what appeared to be a school of some kind, next to a bookshelf. Mark began scanning the volumes on the shelf. It trilled after a few minutes. "Scan complete, Glazius. Rudimentary translation effected."

"Good, Mark." I walked outside, waving to what I assumed to be a teacher and her pupils, frozen in time. Once outside… "Mark, scan buildings in this city for evidence of one which functions as a library."

Mark complied, and I made my way to the foyer of the building. Fortunately, its doors were propped open. "Mark, scan building for books which incorporate words analogous to ‘Dictionary’ in their titles."

"Scanning, Glazius…" A few seconds later, I was standing next to a rack of volumes, each easily as thick as a feather’s length. Mark began scanning the volumes. I waited patiently until…

"Translation complete, Glazius. Books are indeed dictionaries of all known languages on Mobius Prime. Complete translation database constructed."

"Excellent, Mark. Send database to central Avis Prime computer. I have a feeling they’ll be needing it at a future date." Mark trilled in response. "Good, Mark, very good. Now, prepare holographic overlay. I want to see Avis Prime bird-scrawl translations of all Mobian words."

"Complying, Glazius…"

Suddenly, every sign and book in the building was overlaid with the familiar slashing and looping marks of Avis Prime bird-scrawl. Much better. Much, much better. I set myself to looking for the history section of the library. I would have the development of this planet’s civilization from its own lips, as it were. I briskly strode off through the stacks of books, talons clicking on the polished marble floor as I went.

After a few wrong turns and dead-ends, I found myself standing before an ornate marble archway. Carved into the keystone was a word which Mark translated as "History." I stepped through the arch, and emerged in a solarium, with walls lined with apparently ancient texts. Open on a pedestal in the center of the room was one work which appeared particularly ancient. I stepped up to it, and found I couldn’t even turn the pages. Of course you can’t turn the pages, you fledgling… "Mark, place the work on the pedestal in sync with my current timestream."

"Activating concurrence module… Done."

Ah. Much better. I closed the book carefully and looked at the cover. Mark translated the cover, which was embossed with some ductile metal, as "The History of Mobotropolis." So that’s what this city was called. I began flipping through its ancient and well-worn pages, being exceedingly careful not to tear the pages. Of course, being able to handle it with literally a feather touch helped. Mark had a bit of difficulty translating the ancient script; I’d have to wait a few seconds before a translation appeared on the page. The drawings, however, made the translations almost unnecessary in some cases. The book looked very much like old Terran versions of a book called the "Bible", with "illuminated manuscript" – carefully drawn and decorated capital letters. The wording also seemed similar in some places.

One of the things I learned in the few crossover courses I took at the Avis Prime Scriptorium of Divinity was that religious texts often keep fairly close to recorded history; otherwise, the text’s contemporaries would decry it as fraud. The first few pages of the book talked about the creation of the planet and the creation of homelands for each race. I found some small support in that latter section for my theory on microclimate-induced development of species diversity…

Ah! Here it is. Mark’s translation popped up over a page illuminated with a picture of what looked to be a council of races.

"And so it came to pass that in the twenty-fifth year of the Great Race Wars, the leaders of the races did meet at the place where Fire first touched Earth…"

Probably a lightning strike.

"…for the yearly offering of sacrifices to the Almighty."

Hmm… that’s a literal translation, knowing Mark. It’s odd that that’s also what we on Avis Prime call our God.

"And one of those gathered, a man called Acorn, did address the leaders, saying ‘Brothers, this war doth tax us all most greatly. Verily, there shall not be one left to inherit the planet when our fighting is finished.’"

I’m sure those weren’t his exact words…

"‘Let us therefore cast lots, and the winner shall become overlord of all Mobius.’"

Funny, they called their planet "Mobius". Strange that our name and theirs should coincide.

"And so the leaders of the races cast lots, and the man named Acorn did win. The others bowed obeisance to Acorn, but he lifted them from their feet, saying, ‘Brothers, bow not before me. I shall need your help to rule this planet wisely and well, for I know not all of its secrets. Let us build a city on this site, so that all may live together, safe under the protection of the Almighty.’ And as Acorn had said, so it did come to pass, and the city which was built was called ‘Mobotropolis’, for all of Mobius would live there in perfect peace."

Yeah, right… that explains the explosions and the pollution perfectly. I stopped reading there. I figured I might as well check out this story and see if it were true, or at least based on some facts. "Mark, scan room for references to start of Great Race Wars."

"Start date located, Glazius. Date is approximately 2,500 years before native timestream."

They’d been living in peace for that long… amazing. "Mark, take me to the time period exactly twenty-five years after the beginning of the Great Race Wars."

"Translating, Glazius…"

The world went black, briefly, and then I was… standing in a grassy clearing, just outside what looked to be an open-air temple. Some crude stone pillars surrounded a stone altar, and… what the… sixteen cloaked figures were gathered around the altar! Apparently, that old religious text had been more accurate than I’d supposed. "Mark, can you place me in sync with the current timestream?"

"Negative, Glazius. Potential for creation of paradox and violation of Prime Law is too great. Unable to comply with request."

I let out a sigh. This could just be a meeting of a druidic cult or something like that. Without seeing the events unfold and hearing those figures’ voices, I’d have no chance of figuring out what this was. Their difference in species was readily apparent by size alone; from what I’d seen of the population, tremendous size differences existed between sapient species like badgers and rabbits. I expected that the same was true in this past Mobius. I began to think of some way I could watch and not interfere… watch and not… watch… Of course! Avis Prime had, for a brief period, been dotted with holographic movie theaters. What little I knew of the theory behind them was that a static hologram changing at a certain rate would appear to move because an eye, even a laser-sharp falcon’s eye, couldn’t process information that fast. But how to adapt the idea…

"Mark, shift me 1/30 of a second forward in time every 1/30 of a second. Also, process incoming sound waves, and translate any Mobian speech into Avis Prime bird-speak." I hoped that Mark had a phonetic memory of the dictionary and that it could account for a few thousand years of change.

"Processing request, Glazius… Complete."

Suddenly, the scene about me began to move, jerkily at first, then much more smoothly. I walked to within a few feet of the altar, psychic cloak securely in place. One of the creatures spoke…

"So, what did you all bring to give the Almighty?"

"Same as you, Razortooth: nothing. Ever since somebody came up with the brilliant idea to start burning storehouses, my clan’s barely been able to scrape together enough food to sustain itself, much less prepare a suitable sacrifice to the Almighty."

Murmurs of assent came from the other animals. The speaker, who I couldn’t identify, continued.

"Not only that, I’ve lost most of my family to the battles…"

Someone else interrupted. "Judging from the size of our burial mounds, I’d say we all have. If this keeps up, there won’t be enough of us left to hold claim to a few dozen shrubs, much less to all of Mobius."

Again, most of the animals there murmured in agreement.

"What say we have a contest or something? Winner becomes king, or something like that."

"Yeah, but what kind of contest?"

"How about a trial of strength?" spoke one of the animals in a gruff voice.

Another laughed. "That’s hardly fair, Ironpaw. Your grandmother could probably lift this table with one paw. How about a footrace?"

"Yeah right, Windfoot. You’d be at the finish before any of us got started. How about a swimming race?"

"Great idea, Silverstream. Maybe if we tied a millstone to your neck, you’d only beat us by a few hundred paces!"

They continued in this vein for quite a while.

"Hang on, hang on…" said one of the animals. The others turned to look at him. "No matter what we choose, someone’s going to have an advantage over the others. Why don’t we let him decide?" As he said this, he pointed skyward.

"Great idea, Acorn, great idea. Everybody knows your clan first discovered the fire here. You talk to the Almighty, ask him for a sign or something. I mean, nobody wants to counter the will of the Almighty, right?"

"Right, right… then it’s agreed?" Hoods bobbed as the animals nodded their heads. "Okay. Here goes." He picked up a handful of dirt.

"Almighty, we beg forgiveness for having no sacrifice to offer you this year."

"What’s with the flowery language, Acorn?"

"I don’t know. My father talked like this when he was praying to the Almighty. Maybe it’ll help. Can I keep going?"

"Right, right…"

"As I was saying… we beg your forgiveness. This war… this war… it’s tearing us apart, Almighty. We’ve gathered here, and all agreed to trust your judgement. Whoever you decide to appoint as king will rule Mobius, and maybe that’ll stop all the fighting. I don’t know, but it’s worth a shot. Everybody, spread out evenly." He directed this last comment to the others, who formed a rough sort of ring around the altar. Once they were in place, he continued.

"Almighty, this dirt is all we can offer to you. I’ll throw it into a calm sky, and whoever Your winds blow it onto shall be our king. Help us, Almighty, for this war threatens to destroy us all." So saying, he waited for a while, seemingly waiting for the wind to die down. He held the handful of dirt high and, once grains stopped streaming from it, brought it down and threw it up into the air.

A sudden breeze apparently kicked up, and blew the dirt into his face almost as soon as it left his hand. He coughed and spluttered, trying to clear the bits of dust from his eyes.

The others laughed, until they realized the significance of what had just happened. "Hey. We got ourselves a king!"

Acorn managed to clear the dust from his throat. "Me? King? Nah, that was just an accident. Let me try it again."

"Don’t try and deny the will of the Almighty, Acorn."

Acorn seemed a bit taken aback. "Me? King?" he repeated. "But… but… I can barely keep my own tribe under control. How do you expect me to rule Mobius?"

"Hey, Acorn, that’s what we’re here for," spoke the gruff-voiced animal. "I mean, some strong guy might be able to take you on, but not all of us together."

"Yeah, that’s the ticket," somebody else spoke out. "We’ll all help you get things set up, Acorn."

Acorn continued to object. "But… but… your lands are a bit far away from my own. It’d be at least two days’ journey to the border of yours, Silverstream, and three days’ journey to yours, Ironpaw. How am I going to rule animals I can’t even see?"

They all thought about that for a while. "Hey, I have an idea!" the animal I knew as Windfoot piped up. "What say we all move our camps here? I mean, nobody’s going to fight in the presence of the Almighty. And you could live here, Acorn. We could build one big village…"

"I’m starting to like this better and better," said another animal. "The wars will finally be over…"

"Yeah, finally," said the gruff-voiced animal. He picked Acorn up and placed him on his shoulders. "What say we break the news to Acorn’s clan first? Just imagine the looks on their faces!"

They marched off into the distance. Shouts of "Long Live King Acorn!" echoed through the trees.

The fate of a planet determined by a handful of dirt… I had to laugh. Long and hard. Then my rational side kicked in…

Strangely enough, all the animals seemed to speak a fairly common language. They had probably been living fairly close together during the early stages of their development as sapients. Greed and lust for power are advanced emotions, after all. The Great Race Wars probably started when one animal overstepped his bounds a bit, just enough to violate the space another animal claimed as his own. Wars tend to escalate rapidly; I could easily envision all of Mobius Prime taking sides to settle a dispute over a handful of berries in winter. The leaders of the races, who’d just left, didn’t seem like violent types. They probably grew up in the middle of the wars and were a bit disillusioned by the constant fights they saw going on around them. They were probably eager for an excuse to break off the fights, which they saw as slowly weakening everyone. "Mark, shift me back to my native timestream, then teleport me to my base."

"Affirmative, Glazius…" At least I knew how civilization on this planet got its start. My last thought before I returned "home" was of the wind. Mobius rotated eastward, therefore winds in the Northern Hemisphere would blow west to east. But Acorn had thrown the dirt with his back to the setting sun…

It’s still not the end.

Questions? Email me at [email protected].