HOME | DD

Description
   The trunk of the tree was so wrinkled that climbing it was actually kind of easy. You just had to support your hands and feet on the great plant's many wrinkles.
   Marge looked down.
   The landscape, the jungle, the millions of trees and bushes, the river running towards the Sunset…
   The natives down in the ground, waiting for one of them to fall so they could kill them.
   It was indeed beautiful.
   Marge let herself gaze for a while, into the bewildering landscape. What had to started by supposedly being a fun group activity, and a chance to get to know the boys, turned out to be a nightmare and even worse, an adventure.
   Having adventures is one's only purpose in life, wherever those adventures may be, said a Morgan from the past in her head. The current Morgan, in human form, some six feet above her, was telling her to hurry up.
   Sabre was there too, up higher than Morgan, and he was starting to feel tired. The sound of his own heavy breathing and the sweat coming down his chin only made him feel a whole lot more tired.
   He needed to get distracted. If he thought of something else, the climbing would seem less hard. He even started to miss having Slick talking endlessly by his side.
   You know what they say. If  you start missing the sound of Slick's voice… you're going cuckoo, said Morgan in his head, but he couldn't remember when he had said that.
   'Okay, mate,' said Morgan, below him. 'I'm right below your butt now. So please, oh please, don't be a Pumbaa and do not fart right now.'
   Sabre laughed. Marge just rolled her eyes, way behind them.
   Slick had stayed with the other kids that went on this journey. That jaguar thing had caused them to break apart when they were specifically instructed to stay together. Slick had stayed with Betty and the two boys who Marge had been so keen to get to know, and she had lost herself in the middle of the night of the rest.
   She had been hungry, and she'd been scared.
   It was a different world, and a scary one if you're all alone.
   "Humanity, during all its bumpy background, has always been afraid of being completely alone, be it in the Universe, the world, the country, or even in their own bedroom. Many scientists claim this to be because humans are a social species that must live in herd; the truth is that humans are afraid of being alone because they fear they may not be so much alone", said the Guide.
   That was one of the very few things that the Guide said that Marge could confirm was true.
   Two days, in the jungle. Surrounded by millions and millions of trees. Of bugs. Of bushes. Of deadly silence. She had walked slowly and carefully, like she would wake a group of hungry wolves if she broke a twig beneath her feet.
   She wasn't scared of not being among anyone. Of being one with the land.
   She was scared of what could be hiding in the land. Behind the trees. In the bushes. What could be watching her, breathing slowly and inaudibly, in the silence.
   That kind of stuff didn't do anything to Morgan, or Sabre, or Slick. Buccaneers aren't afraid of the silence, usually they're hiding in it. They can be afraid, but they cannot be scared.
   Sabre and Morgan had split up from the rest of the group as well, half on purpose. Half of their minds told them to stay with the rest of them, but the other half told them to only stay with each other, which had been worked out pretty nicely so far. The only reason Slick didn't go with them was because he couldn't find them in the confusion.
   Two days after she was separated from the group, the natives found her and arrested her. Naked dark men with bones pierced pretty much everywhere, and leaves covering pretty much every part of their body except for the one she would have preferred.
   They spoke a strange, primitive language. Their leaders spoke it too.
   Their leaders were much darker, their skin being covered in mud. They wore hats made out of leaves and fruit, and their faces were painted. It was only because of their clothes that Marge could tell who they were, and it surprised her that she wasn't at all surprised.
   She heard a thump and looked back. The natives had brought a ladder, which they leaned against the gigantic tree. It was fortunately too short, and even if they were able to climb decently they would never catch them now.
   Morgan and Sabre looked down, and started climbing much faster when they saw they had a ladder. Marge followed them, tired, wondering how could they, three kids from the big city, climb a tree better than savage jungle-living Indians.
   Morgan cursed the Fates under his breath.
   'I told you not to do that,' he screamed at Sabre.
   This was no fun at all.
   This trip was no fun at all, he kept thinking.
   The part when they finally got to lose themselves from the humans had been good, though. It was bad that they'd lost Slick, but at least they got to be in the wild. Their ancestral home. Where he and Sabre belonged.
   The part when the natives found them and made them their gods was good as well, he guessed. They'd given them fruit and meat and virgin women. They had begged them to accept the fruit and the meat as well.
   Not so good was when this chick Marge had arrived, he kept thinking, and they had to quickly come up with a reason why she shouldn't just be sacrificed to them and eaten in small doses at lunch.
   She's a goddess too, they had said. Her skin's very much like ours, and her eyes, how could you have missed that, they asked. You're really stupid natives, they had commented.
   And now they were up in a tree.
   Morgan looked up and saw what they were heading for. A crashed spaceship in the top branches.
   Twenty minutes later they reached it.
   It was big and white and shiny. It looked very much like a flattened torpedo. It was all kinds of cool. Its main entrance, on its base, was opened. They got in to a dark compartment and shut the door closed.
   'Now this a ship,' commented Morgan. 'Not like that shit we used to drive.'
   Sabre sat in front of a huge control panel below the window that let the driver see into the outside. Thousands of buttons and handles and technological stuff stared at him, waiting for a task. And he had no idea how any of this worked.
   Marge joined him, and looked even more confused.
   'How do we even start this thing?' she asked.
   'I dunno, press "start",' said Morgan.
   'Where's the auto-pilot?' said Sabre, searching in the panel. Finally he pressed a button.
   The window was blocked by a video-screen that showed their position, first on the planet, then on the Solar System and finally on the galaxy, and set a course to another planet with a name that none of them could pronounce. The auto-pilot could pronounce it, though. It said they were about to take off to that planet in three, two, one, zero, and then the ship took off, leaving only a burning tree and some scared natives that would have crapped their pants, if only they had them.

Description
   The trunk of the tree was so wrinkled that climbing it was actually kind of easy. You just had to support your hands and feet on the great plant's many wrinkles.
   Marge looked down.
   The landscape, the jungle, the millions of trees and bushes, the river running towards the Sunset…
   The natives down in the ground, waiting for one of them to fall so they could kill them.
   It was indeed beautiful.
   Marge let herself gaze for a while, into the bewildering landscape. What had to started by supposedly being a fun group activity, and a chance to get to know the boys, turned out to be a nightmare and even worse, an adventure.
   Having adventures is one's only purpose in life, wherever those adventures may be, said a Morgan from the past in her head. The current Morgan, in human form, some six feet above her, was telling her to hurry up.
   Sabre was there too, up higher than Morgan, and he was starting to feel tired. The sound of his own heavy breathing and the sweat coming down his chin only made him feel a whole lot more tired.
   He needed to get distracted. If he thought of something else, the climbing would seem less hard. He even started to miss having Slick talking endlessly by his side.
   You know what they say. If  you start missing the sound of Slick's voice… you're going cuckoo, said Morgan in his head, but he couldn't remember when he had said that.
   'Okay, mate,' said Morgan, below him. 'I'm right below your butt now. So please, oh please, don't be a Pumbaa and do not fart right now.'
   Sabre laughed. Marge just rolled her eyes, way behind them.
   Slick had stayed with the other kids that went on this journey. That jaguar thing had caused them to break apart when they were specifically instructed to stay together. Slick had stayed with Betty and the two boys who Marge had been so keen to get to know, and she had lost herself in the middle of the night of the rest.
   She had been hungry, and she'd been scared.
   It was a different world, and a scary one if you're all alone.
   "Humanity, during all its bumpy background, has always been afraid of being completely alone, be it in the Universe, the world, the country, or even in their own bedroom. Many scientists claim this to be because humans are a social species that must live in herd; the truth is that humans are afraid of being alone because they fear they may not be so much alone", said the Guide.
   That was one of the very few things that the Guide said that Marge could confirm was true.
   Two days, in the jungle. Surrounded by millions and millions of trees. Of bugs. Of bushes. Of deadly silence. She had walked slowly and carefully, like she would wake a group of hungry wolves if she broke a twig beneath her feet.
   She wasn't scared of not being among anyone. Of being one with the land.
   She was scared of what could be hiding in the land. Behind the trees. In the bushes. What could be watching her, breathing slowly and inaudibly, in the silence.
   That kind of stuff didn't do anything to Morgan, or Sabre, or Slick. Buccaneers aren't afraid of the silence, usually they're hiding in it. They can be afraid, but they cannot be scared.
   Sabre and Morgan had split up from the rest of the group as well, half on purpose. Half of their minds told them to stay with the rest of them, but the other half told them to only stay with each other, which had been worked out pretty nicely so far. The only reason Slick didn't go with them was because he couldn't find them in the confusion.
   Two days after she was separated from the group, the natives found her and arrested her. Naked dark men with bones pierced pretty much everywhere, and leaves covering pretty much every part of their body except for the one she would have preferred.
   They spoke a strange, primitive language. Their leaders spoke it too.
   Their leaders were much darker, their skin being covered in mud. They wore hats made out of leaves and fruit, and their faces were painted. It was only because of their clothes that Marge could tell who they were, and it surprised her that she wasn't at all surprised.
   She heard a thump and looked back. The natives had brought a ladder, which they leaned against the gigantic tree. It was fortunately too short, and even if they were able to climb decently they would never catch them now.
   Morgan and Sabre looked down, and started climbing much faster when they saw they had a ladder. Marge followed them, tired, wondering how could they, three kids from the big city, climb a tree better than savage jungle-living Indians.
   Morgan cursed the Fates under his breath.
   'I told you not to do that,' he screamed at Sabre.
   This was no fun at all.
   This trip was no fun at all, he kept thinking.
   The part when they finally got to lose themselves from the humans had been good, though. It was bad that they'd lost Slick, but at least they got to be in the wild. Their ancestral home. Where he and Sabre belonged.
   The part when the natives found them and made them their gods was good as well, he guessed. They'd given them fruit and meat and virgin women. They had begged them to accept the fruit and the meat as well.
   Not so good was when this chick Marge had arrived, he kept thinking, and they had to quickly come up with a reason why she shouldn't just be sacrificed to them and eaten in small doses at lunch.
   She's a goddess too, they had said. Her skin's very much like ours, and her eyes, how could you have missed that, they asked. You're really stupid natives, they had commented.
   And now they were up in a tree.
   Morgan looked up and saw what they were heading for. A crashed spaceship in the top branches.
   Twenty minutes later they reached it.
   It was big and white and shiny. It looked very much like a flattened torpedo. It was all kinds of cool. Its main entrance, on its base, was opened. They got in to a dark compartment and shut the door closed.
   'Now this a ship,' commented Morgan. 'Not like that shit we used to drive.'
   Sabre sat in front of a huge control panel below the window that let the driver see into the outside. Thousands of buttons and handles and technological stuff stared at him, waiting for a task. And he had no idea how any of this worked.
   Marge joined him, and looked even more confused.
   'How do we even start this thing?' she asked.
   'I dunno, press "start",' said Morgan.
   'Where's the auto-pilot?' said Sabre, searching in the panel. Finally he pressed a button.
   The window was blocked by a video-screen that showed their position, first on the planet, then on the Solar System and finally on the galaxy, and set a course to another planet with a name that none of them could pronounce. The auto-pilot could pronounce it, though. It said they were about to take off to that planet in three, two, one, zero, and then the ship took off, leaving only a burning tree and some scared natives that would have crapped their pants, if only they had them.