Alright I admit it. I want to be a blog of note. Or I guess I should say that I want this blog to be a blog of note. I’m just a few days short of having blogged every single day for a year, so I deserve this! Oh well. If anyone wants to get me a back-to-school gift…
One of my favorite features of Amathar is the subway.
Just as the station was atypical of what I would expect of public transportation, so too was the train car. It was furnished more like a living room, or a comfortable den, than a public transportation system. There was a piece of furniture very much like a sofa, a small table in front of it, and a several very comfortable chairs. The sofa and chairs were covered with material that was patterned after animal skins, though it appeared to be man-made. Most surprising of all, there was a large bookcase against the back wall, filled with books. I stepped over to the small library once the subway had started into motion, and pulled one of the books from its place.
The book was very much like the book of Amath’s teachings which Norar Remontar had previously shown me. It was a bound volume with a spine, and it had a cover made of leather. The pages were made of a material something like plastic. They were thin and they could bend like paper, but they had a strength far beyond any paper product. The entire book was written in Amatharian, which of course I was unable to read, but the lines and letters seemed to be laid out in a familiar fashion. As I had noticed, the characters resembling simple line drawings of stylized animals and other almost familiar images. After staring at it for a moment, I almost thought that I could see tiny predators ready to pounce upon their prey.
“Is this a private transport car?” I asked, replacing the book.
“This shuttle train belongs to the air clan,” Norar Remontar replied, “though they make it available to anyone who needs transportation.”
“I am surprised that it doesn’t become damaged, or that the books and other furnishing aren’t stolen,” I said, noticing several small art objects atop the table, and hanging on the walls.
“Why would some one take something that wasn’t his?” the Amatharian wondered. “Of course there is a great deal of wear because of the number of people who travel on the train. That is why we must all take extra care, to see that this property of others is not needlessly damaged.”
I looked, but couldn’t find any more wear and tear than one would find in the average living room.
“Alexander Ashton, are you conscious?” I opened my eyes to see the face of the Princess looking down at me. “I thought you might be in a coma.”
“What happened?”
“Look and see, kinsman.”
I tried to sit up, but found it difficult, since both my hands and feet were bound with heavy wire. I managed to look around me, and saw that we were on the floor of a large room. It looked familiar, but for a moment I didn’t know how. I realized that this was a Zoasian land vehicle of the same general type which I had so recently driven, just as one of the aforementioned snake-men entered the compartment and pointed a large ray gun at me.
“Go ahead and shoot me, you cold-blooded bastard!” I shouted at the reptile. He just hissed at me uncomprehendingly, and then sat down nearby to guard us.
“It seems your thanks for the rescue were premature,” I told my companion.
“I resigned myself to my own death when I was first captured by the Zoasians,” said Noriandara Remontar. “The situation is no worse now. If anything, we can be happy that we have caused them so much trouble.”
“I can’t believe that they found us in the middle of that sand storm,” I said, rubbing the painful knot just behind my temple.
“The Zoasians have an extra eyelid which they can close to protect from the elements, and still be able to see,” she explained. “My aunt has made an extensive study of their culture and their physiology, though I dare say, I will be able to write quite a book on the subject myself, if I ever get back to Amathar.”
It was a lovely dress made of a heavy material of the deepest red.
City of Amathar 