Europa Begins

By M.C. Shorter

Life requires cooperation and care.  Nearly every living creature is a composite of thousands of others and millions of years of adaptation.  Each life is connected, no life is separate. This is what happens when one person discovers the meaning of life.  Arte was discarded by society but still fought, still moved forward, appreciating the effort of those around her, and never forgetting their kindness.  Her actions are not selfless nor purely altruistic, but she knows that for a world to thrive, all life must survive.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M.C. Shorter
• Release date: Jun 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393721512

M.C. Shorter

Writer & creator M.C. Shorter shares humor, satire, and screeds while surviving millennialism, recovering from a near-miss astrophysics undergraduate education, an English degree, and a J.D., plus living with chronic pain, schizophrenia, and two very energetic dogs. They are the product of an Olympic double medalist and several generations of librarians. M.C. loves animals, swimming, and people who are kind to other people.

Book preview

The morning after the wedding, I woke next to my new husband with damp thighs and buttocks. I reached my hand down, feeling the sticky transfer of still-flowing liquid. When I removed it from under the sheets, its crimson coating didn’t disturb me, as the reason for the pain from the night before finally became manifest.

My husband suddenly smacked my face. You wet the bed, didn’t you? I heard that you people were dirty, but this is revolting.

I took the pain easily, since even at twelve I was beyond him in strength and size. I showed him my hand and removed the sheets, uncovering my legs. His disgust now included horror and he yelled out, Anderson? Gather the parents of this useless mountain of flesh and make sure that they leave with their dowry. Falter? You get a cart and put her on it. I want her out of my sight as quickly as possible. Go dump her in front of one of those clinics they make me fund. Get my money’s worth. Enduvia? You take this bed to the courtyard and set it on fire, sheets and all. I want this entire room cleaned and all furniture burned as well. Anything that this mongrel could have touched, I want removed.

The three servants mumbled their required assent to Mr. Cohen, and I witnessed a carriage enter the room whose contrast I accepted.  Several men drew the dilapidated cart with no assurance that it would survive my weight. I decided to board it unassisted, resigned to my fate.

Get this freak out of my sight, I have to prepare for parliament. said Cohen as he tore off his clothes and threw them in the fire.

I sat in the clumpy blood as it slowly coagulated around my legs and genitals as my blood repeated the pulse of this world’s crystal core. I knew the flesh that had been lost would never be replaced, no matter the natural gifts I may have. The carriage stopped when the sun had risen above the horizon and I departed the vehicle, taking a seat beside the medical clinic. The servant drove off, leaving me to wait for the first employee to arrive. When the carriage vanished from my sight, I walked around the back of the building and found a spigot that had been placed high so that no one could reach it unassisted. I jumped and turned the crank, expelling water over my body. I closed my eyes and allowed the cold to only a silent scream to expel the horror I endured. Before being carted away from the Governor’s Mansion, I had stolen a potent vintage, which I used to disinfect the tears and cuts. When I could no longer live within my screaming mind, I yelled, Enough! and I could no longer feel the cold.  The screams disappeared because I knew that no matter the horror that was my future, I now have power.

My nightgown was stained with blood in several areas, but I was able to tear off pieces of cloth which provided me such a measure of modesty as to avoid being arrested. The clinic had opened after my shower and I entered the building.

Welcome to the Cohen Clin... The receptionist raised her head from the check-in sheet she had placed on the counter, making eye contact with my stomach before moving up higher to where my eyes were set. Oh...my....You are Euro, aren’t you? I....Wow, you’re huge....

I grimaced into a smile and a thank you, as was the expected response.

How old are you, dear?

I turned twelve last night, I said as I blinked placidly.

Oh, I see. She nodded. How can I help you?

I put the bloody cloth that had served me no purpose on the desk. I would like some clean clothing, if that’s not too much. I do not believe I require medical attention. I bowed as was always expected and she threw a bag over the nightgown before carrying it away. She soon returned with clearly male attire. We didn’t have any women’s clothing your size. I hope this will fit, she said to me sadly.

I lowered my head in deep thanks and pulled on the trousers over my loincloth, feeling the restriction on my thighs and calves, barely able to seal the clasp. I unwound the cloth around my breasts and asked for bandages so that I could fit into the shirt. I wound the wrapping tightly, using my hurt and fear to wrap my breasts tighter against my chest. I put the ill-fitting hat on my head and draped the cloak over my shoulders, accepting its meager covering. Miss, I will never forget this great kindness. What is your name?

Emily, dear, and don’t you worry bout a thing. Come back if you need anything else. She smiled.

Do you have bathing facilities I could use daily? I asked, helplessly hopeful.

Don’t you worry, dear, you can always sleep and shower in the back. There are beds that you can use. What’s your name? she asked warmly.

Her smile broke mine. I had a different name, but now I think it should be Arte. I bade farewell to my benefactor and left the clinic door.

The streets had busied themselves during the time I spent with Emily, making my assimilation easy. The male clothes allowed me passage of a swiftness that had been previously unavailable, which gave me the courage to finally go to the library. As the attendant was female, I was not questioned when I permitted myself into the stacks of knowledge that had been forbidden to me. I walked to the first shelf, took a tome entitled, Geological Anomalies in the Southern Plateau as well as another from a different shelf titled, The Crystalline Metamorphosis of Plateau Metals, and seated myself at a table with writing materials and implements.

Each morning, I worked loading carriages in my suit, and every afternoon I would go to the library and try to stay as late as I could. Months into my new life, I discovered a window in a section of tax law that I had to dust myself. The window had no lock since it had been clearly forgotten. I decided that from now on I would no longer be constrained by the minimal security, and after the library closed and I was ushered out, I re-entered through a forgotten window, able to access other areas long neglected by public touch.  The entrance became easier as the labor carved my muscles into granite and I would thank Emily each morning since she laundered and mended my suit the previous night.

A year had passed since I began my new future and I had spent hours attempting to digest the curious nature of the planet. The reason for its settlement had, as always, been resources. It was twice the radius of any planet settled, and as a result everything else had also increased in appropriate size. Its stronger gravity gave rise to new carbon crystals that had become of some import in the universe as a whole. The life would store energy and could be magnified given the application of the right materials.

I had finally begun to understand the biological interaction between the minerals and animals when I was assaulted by a yell.

What are you doing here? Why are you not at home? How old are you? A flustered woman appeared before me, whom I knew well from sight yet had never spoken to.

I am researching the atomic structure of umbirite and the similar properties within my own blood, I am not at home because they don’t care, and I am thirteen. I looked down into her eyes with my vacant stare that had just had its information draw very much interrupted.

The woman twitched in shock and the machinations of her mind plugged along, trying to evaluate the circumstances as she saw them. Her shock turned to confusion and then a question: What is your name, child?

Arte, ma’am. I am Arte now, I said with my unwavering glance. May I return to my book or should I leave? I know I’m not supposed to be here, but often I can’t gain access to these books because they tell me they are beyond me. I don’t know if they’re right, but the writing seems to make sense to me. The structure loops better in this particular structure of crystal, and the higher pressure has created pockets allowing agents to bond which can then be electrically charged or possibly imbued with some other physical quality. Am I correct?

She blinked twice. I’m sorry?

I nodded to her and then bowed deeply. I am sorry for having committed a crime. They were right in excluding me from the library. Please, allow me to perform any service as recompense for my transgression. I stayed low in my submission till I felt a warm hand on my shoulder.

I would like to see that little diagram you are drawing over there, she said with a smile that brought me into a torrent of tears which took minutes to stop.

Learning a trade was the priority, and so the library had become a trickle of afterthoughts where stories and knowledge were better with drink than the history, lore, and stories of the land they inhabited and from where they descended. Artifacts were frequently found on some of the larger expeditions and outposts were implemented for their excavation, but the mineral took priority over the preservation of history. The library was merely an antique left by the original colonists, the Roedena, whose blood I held. They wished to keep what was, while cementing what is, since the priority of life had become mere subsistence in the daily struggle against the elements as supplies became more expensive.  The fortune of this knowledge was available to me only because my family had sold me to the Cohens to end the indentured servant contract that had held my family for centuries.

The soulless path between hygiene, work, and learning was now interrupted as I became the apprentice of Melinda.  No longer would I need to sneak into the library since Melinda was an amateur scientist in addition to her professional responsibilities as the matriarch of a trade school.  Basic mercantile practice, sewing, mining, taxes, the study of the universal government, the colonial government, and finally the placement exam before graduation formed the curriculum.  I was required to perform all of the required courses as well as extra projects given to me by Melinda herself.

It came to me naturally, as I could simply lose myself within the repetitive motions of either cutting leather or manipulating metal.  My activity would not cease during class as I would