Karl the Moonrat thinks extra-lunar thoughts.
Okay so this is Part One - and I need your help - because I'm stumped! What should happen next?! Anything?! Will Karl make it?! I need your brainpower!
Moonrat and the Great Greeny-Blue One
The Moonrat pondered his existence, as Moonrats often did. The lunar mammals were famed for their tendency to overthink. Some said this propensity could be traced back to the very first family of Moonrats, whose pensiveness was passed down through the ages. Others suggested it was a simple product of the amount of time the critters had to fill. A moon day, after all, is the equivalent of 27.3 Earth ones. Even after breakfast, lunch, dinner and a little recreational activity of his choice, Karl the Moonrat was left with 652 hours and 12 minutes with which to do as he pleased. And it pleased him to ponder.
His little pink eyes scanned the sky and his gaze settled, as it often did, on the Great Greeny-Blue One. It looked particularly lovely that day, he thought. Karl had done the calculations and deduced that the orb was somewhere in the region of 225, 745 miles away. In other words, too far for a Moonrat to jump, although they could jump surprisingly far. Karl once leapt the Crater. It was his claim to fame, in fact, and the feat afforded him a certain level of Moon-cred amongst his clan. But no, the Crater had a diameter of a mere 23.6 metres. If he was ever to get to the Greeny-Blue One, it would not be in this manner. Karl had a much better plan. He would stow away on one of the space machines the Tallrats travelled in. They did not come often, sure, but when they did he knew exactly what he would do. It would be a cinch. The difficult part was what to do when he got there. He had an inkling from the special suits the Tallrats wore, that the Greeny-Blue One was altogether different in its gaseous and gravitational make-up. He would, no doubt, need a special suit of his own.
But Karl had plenty of hours to worry about that end of things. The research and design of such a suit was scheduled for Monday week. Til then he would simply revel in thoughts of his adventure. Of course, the other Moonrats would think Karl had lost it. Whatever kudos he had won with the Crater leap would be lost if he divulged his daring dreams. This was one of the great contradictions of Moonrat culture. Philosophizing was in their genes, sure, but to think extra-lunar thoughts was at best seen as a waste of time, at worst, as heresy. Spout these high fallutin’ ideas to the wrong Moonrat and BAM! You’re on ‘The List’. And you do not want to be on The List. Let’s just say that folk who wind up Listed, don’t tend to stick around for long. Nobody knows where they go, but everybody knows it’s nowhere good. Some Moonrats say they’re floated off into the Big Black. Others say they’re simply stomped out – fed to the Mooncats that is. Vicious creatures they are - all shiny claws and tiny, razor teeth.
No, Karl had better keep this quiet. If he ever made it back, he could enlighten them all with tales of his great adventure. He might ruffle a few furs, sure, but if he could just make that great unknown known, then maybe his fellow Moonrats would no longer fear it. And if they no longer feared it, maybe they would no longer criminalize it. And if it was no longer criminalized, then maybe good Moonrats like Karl’s father wouldn’t be put on the list and made disappear forever and ever.
Or something like that. Either way, Karl knew what he had to do. But all in good time. For now, he simply watched the Greeny-Blue One spin, seductively slow on its eternal dance through the Big Black . And returned to pondering, pondering, pondering.
Created: Dec 21, 2009Document Media