Chapter 2: The Day Begins

Fiso slowly opened his eyes to greet the overly-enthusiastic beams of light making their way through the broad leaves of a nearby breadfruit tree. A mild ticking sound met his waking ears. Some small weight pressing down on his chest seemed to be the source of the curious noise. Not ticking. But clucking! Fiso sluggishly swatted the chicken off his chest and managed a “Gerr offa me!”

“Dumb chicken! Do nothin’ but crap all over the place. Only good for eating. We’re gonna whip your stupid baseball team later today!” he continued. The chicken had flown away several paces, and was now staring at Fiso apparently very taken aback.

Fiso looked around. His mother was making an intricate arrangement of particularly
green basaltic rocks in the umu fire pit under the nearby breadfruit tree. Tolo was next to her cutting wood with his machete, and handing individual pieces to Eva as she wove them into her latticework in the umu. Fiso stood up and picked off the floor the basket of ripe coconuts he had harvested the previous day. He lofted the basket outside to the fire pit and stood across from his mother next to a pointed iron bar protruding from a pile of rocks. Fiso grabbed a coconut
by its brown husk and thrust it onto the pike. Twisting the coconut in his hand, he wrenched the fibrous husk from the hard inner shell. Tossing the husk to the side, he returned the naked coconut back to the basket and fetched out another. After silently husking this way for several minutes, he looked up and asked his mother, “Can I light the umu?”

“Um, sure honey, go ahead and light it when you’re done with those coconuts. Just be
careful,” she replied as she placed the last rock in the pit. Fiso finished his work quickly and brought the last husk over to the fire pit. Tolo eyed Fiso warily as Fiso grabbed the box of matches set on the ground next to the pit. Fiso set the husk in the fire pit and struck a match. As Fiso reached toward the husk with his lit match, a black lizard sunbathing in a patch of sunlight on a
discarded coconut husk caught his eye. His hand danced across the green grass creeping toward the oblivious reptile.

“Fiso don’t hurt it. Please? I’ll tell Mom if you do,” threatened Tolo.
“Sheesh I’m just gonna tease it. Watch,” replied Fiso.

The lizard, facing away from the boys, cocked its tiny head and made a tiny chirping noise. Fiso lit the husk underneath the poor lizard, and pulled his hand back to watch the motions of this act. At the onset of smoke, the small quadruped abruptly leapt to the ground and dove underneath a nearby banana leaf and turned to watch the two boys with offended eyes. Fiso, laughing, picked up the smoking husk and threw it into the umu. It was not long before the flames ascended and began to consume the wood. Eva had moved inside and was pouring a bag of rice into a small pot. She filled the pot with water at the spigot next to the shower house behind the main house. Then she brought the pot out front and hung it on a hook situated just over the fire pit. Tolo, seeing his mother had returned from the house, grabbed a coconut out of the basket and gave it several sharp taps with his machete, then pried it open. A little juice came out. He handed both halves
to his mother. Eva took the halves and sat down straddling a wooden bench. The bench had a long piece of metal affixed to the end with a serrated circle on the end. She placed a coconut half on the end of the metal bar, the meat-bearing inside touching the jagged tip. She began rubbing the coconut half back and forth, and the meat from the inside began falling in grated strands
into the bowl placed underneath. She quickly liberated all the meat from that shell and then began with the other. Tolo continued splitting open coconuts and handing them to his mother. Fiso went inside and hefted another large basket full of large green breadfruit.

The tree closest to the Leiloa home was a kind of fifth family member. It is a breadfruit tree of the maopo variety, which is one of the tastiest of breadfruit. The branches made for great climbing when Tolo and Fiso were at play, and the large leaves made great shade. On a hot day, the family members enjoyed sitting in the breeze under the tree telling jokes or stories, preparing food. Ray constructed a baseball bat from its branches that has since become something of a legend. With that bat, Ray achieved the unprecedented, unholy batting average of .641 during his rookie season with Falesea’s major league team, also named the Sea Cucumbers. All of the boys’ little league teammates idolized him that year. Ray led the ‘Cukes’ all the way to the National Championship Series where they were narrowly defeated by the team from the national capital, the Malagasi’i
Scorpionfish, three games to two. Next season, Ray was a one-man wrecking crew. Most analyzers said that the Sea Cucumbers would easily take the championship thanks to the revolutionary third baseman, Ray Leiloa. Mid-season, Ray disappeared. Fans were severely hurt, to say nothing of Ray’s tiny, loving family. Some thoughtless fans even took out their disappointment on the
remaining Leiloas, calling him a deserter or a traitor to his devastated wife. Currently, Fiso took the basket of breadfruit and deposited it next to his mother. He took a piece of a steel can, and set to scraping away the green scales of a breadfruit with a sharp edge on the can. He looked up at his mother who was beginning to sweat as the morning was beginning to heat up. Tolo took his machete and approached a banana tree closer to the beach. He took one great swipe with the sword and easily felled a bunch of bananas that had been hanging pendulously from the main stalk of the tree. He brought it back to the fire pit and set his machete down. He then picked up a small knife and began peeling the bananas with it.

“Mother, I love the Nafanua festival,” Tolo proposed as he worked.
“What do you like most about it, honey?” asked Eva.
“I like the stories the most. The old ones,” Tolo replied, “Can you tell us a story?”
“Sure thing darling, did you have any specific story you wanted to hear?” Eva inquired.
“You choose, I like them all,” decided Tolo.

“Okay, then,” began Eva, “Here’s one I don’t think you’ve heard before. There was a couple named Mu and Ve’a. This mother and father had four children, three sons and a daughter. The sons’ names were Apeuta, Apetai, and Apeafusia. The daughter’s name was To’ito’iāve’a. Mu and ve’a loved their children very, very much, and they especially loved their daughter. They grew older, and frailer. Eventually they both became sick and knew they would both die soon. Mu and Ve’a called their children together. It was their dying wish that their three sons take care of their daughter after they were to die. Make sure she will have plenty to eat, and that she will be safe. Soon enough, they both died. Mu died first, then a little while afterward, Ve’a. The four children mourned their beloved parents. Afterward, the three sons set out to provide for their sister, according to their parents’ final wishes. They built a tall tower with a soft bed on top for her to sit on day after day. They also took turns bringing her food. They took care of her every need. Then one day, a large flood swept through their village. The flood was so large a person could hear it before it arrived. When Apeuta heard the flood, he ran to save his life, but he was drowned in the flood. Likewise, Apetai heard the flood. He ran away to save his life but was drowned. The third son, Apeafusia, heard the flood and rushed to check on his sister. He climbed the tower and was
saved from the flood because he thought about her safety first. The End.”

“What a dreadful story,” Tolo responded.
“What?! Why did the parents love To’ito’iāve’a better than the sons? Was it just because she was a girl, ‘cuz that would be really dumb!” Fiso retorted.
“Oh … Fiso. Maybe you’ll understand someday when you’re a father,” sighed Eva.
Fiso quickly continued, “That story was just lame. It was short and nothing happened except everbody died. I like the stories where cool stuff happens. Stories with giants and demons and people that can turn into animals or rocks. Or ones where they have big battles or see ghosts or dwarves or sea montsers. Or the ones that have cannibalism in them. Or ones with gods and goddesses.”

“You know, all these stories have meaning behind them,” nudged Eva.
“Oh yeah?” tested Fiso, “Not that one where that guy tricks that witch with the octopus. That one was just nuts.”
“That was a silly story, but yes even that story had meaning,” Eva was smiling at the thought of the octopus story.
“Mother?” Tolo asked “What was the meaning in the story you just told us? I thought it was very sad.”
“Well,” Eva began, “Family is very important. The best thing a person can do is to look out for your family. If one of you was in danger, I wouldn’t hesitate to help you. A person who selflessly takes care of his family is watched over by deity.”
“I see,” Tolo thought about this.
“Oh,” Fiso quieted down.

At this, Eva stood up and combined her grated coconut with the portion she had grated last night. She took a fibrous cloth made from coconut husk and began straining the coconut meat with it, squeezing out the white milky coconut cream. After she had a large bowl full of coconut cream, she brought it back to the fire pit. She removed the pot from the fire and set it on the ground. Fiso grabbed a taro leaf from a pile and held it out in a cupping shape to his mother. She poured a volume of coconut cream into the cupped leaf. Fiso wrapped the leaf with several other taro leaves then a breadfruit leaf then a banana leaf to prevent burning. Tolo joined in and they used all the coconut cream with leaves. Eva then took the mid rib of a coconut leaf and bent it in half. Using the rib as tongs, she spread the now scorching rocks around inside the pit. They placed the leaf-bundled coconut cream, or palusami, in with the rocks. Then they placed the breadfruit, bananas, and taro from last night into the umu as well. Placing banana leaves where needed to prevent burning, Eva covered the food with rocks. A final layer of leaves was placed over the rocks to keep the heat inside the oven.

“Good job, boys, that didn’t take much time at all,” Eva breathed, “Your father would be very proud.”

The three stood for a moment surveying the product of their labor. Eva brought the small pot of rice inside. The boys followed her inside where they opened a can of mackerel and ate it
with the rice for their breakfast. The umu would be done cooking in time to
take to the evening’s big feast for the Nafanua festival.

Chapter 1: The Afiafi - Or the Evening

Some Vocab:
Taro – Plant producing a root used for food
Onosa’i – Patience
Fale - House
Talofa e – (approx.) Woe
Ua sola le fai, ae ua tu’u pea lona foto – The sting ray has left but it has left its stinger
Palagi – Caucasian

Eva Leiloa wiped the sweat from her brow and looked up from her grated coconut, noticing the abrupt orange tint covering the previously pure white meat in her large bowl. Followed immediately by a gust of mildly warm air, this signaled the end of her labor for the day. As she gazed toward the ocean, she smiled at the fiery sky and water. The breeze kicked up its intensity, and great orange waves began forming just outside the lagoon and subsequently breaking in rhythmic regularity on a sandy bar about thirty meters from shore. Several men in a long canoe, getting in some final practice before the following day’s race, took the opportunity to follow the breakers in to shore. The fine sandy beach stretched out as far as she could see to her left and right and terminated at the edge of the Leiloa family’s taro garden. A plot of land as expansive and as optimally situated as that owned by the Leiloa family is hard to come by. Eva’s husband Ray, being of a moderately prestigious family line in the village, had inherited it from his father. It was among several of the few worldly possessions Ray had left to his little family when he disappeared nearly three years ago. Eva looked to the top of a tall coconut tree bordering her garden and the beach. Her small son, Fiso, clung to the top of the columnar tree as a burst of wind coming off the ocean caused the tree to sway gently. Fiso twisted off a ripe brown coconut and hurled it down at the base of the tree.

“Fiso, it’s time to come down! The wind is getting stronger!” she shouted into the wind.

Eva worried often about her children. But each of them retained the strong sense of independence and capability that so characterized her husband. As her eyes followed the coconut to the ground she caught a glimpse of her other son, Tolo, about 20 meters in front of her and a little to her right. Tolo was digging up taro root and cutting the stalks from the roots with a large machete. The stalks could then be replanted and they would regrow roots that could be harvested in the future. Her sons had been enthusiastic helpers since Ray left. There was no way she could have prepared
as much food for tomorrow’s festival by herself, and her sons’ competence in everyday tasks had far surpassed their ten years of age. Though the tasks her sons were engaged in were somewhat dangerous, she trusted both of them, although only for their respective tasks. While Tolo was careful and respected the sharp machete he was using, Fiso might be tempted to play with it. Contrariwise, while Fiso was bold and confident enough to climb a lofty coconut tree, Tolo was
often too timid to fetch more than one or two coconuts at a time withoutgetting scared.

“Tolo, replant those stalks then come inside, honey!” she called out across the garden.

Tolo especially reminded her of Ray. Though he was small, he had the look to take on the same build as her muscular husband. His quiet consideration bespoke of a focused mind ready to bloom into a dignified young man who would represent his family with pride. Fiso on the other hand,
wore poor Eva ragged. His energy was surpassed only by his mouth. When Fiso misbehaved she would tell herself in the old language, “Onosa’i Eva” meaning, “Patience Eva.” She found herself chastising Fiso probably more than he deserved. In quiet moments she regretted her harsh words to Fiso, likewise chastising herself more than she probably deserved.

Eva stood up from her seat, picked up the bowl of grated coconut, and brought it into her small thatched roof home near the beach. Eva looked parallel to the beach where the path from her house disappeared into some heavy brush. An old hunchbacked woman appeared out of the tall grass. She sneered at a knee-high coconut crab that happened to be passing by. The crab quickly scuttled away and the woman continued on toward the house. Though the house had no walls (it was an old Samoan-style fale with only posts to hold up the roof) the old woman stopped at the edge of the house. She bent her head down even further than he bent back naturally held it and asked permission to enter with the words, “Pe maua ea se avoana i totonu le maota?” The old woman had a habit of using the old language even though most people didn’t know much of it.
Eva answered back, “Come in old mother. Come inside. You’re very much welcome here. How are you doing, Tautala?”

“Very fine, thank you,” The old woman muttered as she stepped inside and sat cross-legged on the floor. The sky had grown a little bit redder, and it caused the old woman’s white hair to look nearly as red as a nonu fruit. The woman looked toward the two children finishing their work outside. As Fiso descended from the tree, Tautala remarked, “Two little leaves falling from the tree. Laufiso! What are you doing there?”

“It’s not Laufiso. It’s just Fiso. I was just getting some coconuts. We’re preparing
food for the Nafanua festival tomorrow,” replied Fiso as he and Tolo stepped into the house.

Tautala slowly shook her wrinkled head, “Talofa e. You poor thing. That’s a job for the
man of the house – to prepare the food for the family. I guess it’s true what they say, eh? Ua sola le fai ae tu’u pea lona foto.”

Tolo gave his mother a quizzical look. Eva shook her head, almost imperceptibly.
Fiso replied to the old woman, “Hey lady. I am the man of the house. I’m older than Tolo by five minutes.”

“Fiso, watch your mouth! Have some respect for the old mother!” barked Eva. “Yes,
Tautala I’ve heard that saying more than I care to admit since Ray disappeared.”

“It just breaks my heart to see you out in the taro garden every day, dear. You’re
here living on the cusp of poverty, while that no good husband of yours is off with some other partner he must’ve met while playing that lousy game of his.”

“Hey, you! My dad was the best to ever play the game, lady,” Fiso could not abide
that kind of remark about his father.

Eva shot a look at Fiso and “Fiso, watch that mouth! Though I agree with the
sentiment. Firstly, we three do all right for ourselves here. Secondly, and with all due respect old mother, my dear husband would never cheat on me. Neither would he leave us without good reason. I worry something terrible happened to him. I hope he’s all right wherever he is. But I’m afraid nothing short of bodily harm would have taken him away from us.”

Tautala shook her gray head again and said, “Such hope. You poor thing.”

“Tautala, I apologize for getting worked up. Would you like something to eat or drink? Maybe some hot cocoa?” asked Eva.

Tautala replied, “Thank you for the consideration and the respect, dear, but I should
be getting on. I only came to tell you the big news for tomorrow’s festival. An actual matai is coming to speak tomorrow to our little village of Falesea. Very exciting.”

“An actual chief is coming here? What is he going to speak about?” Eva questioned.

“I haven’t a clue. It could be anything.”

“I suspect he’ll have his full complement of guards with him. We’ll hardly be able
to move in our seats or breathe tomorrow without getting bothered by the guards,” Lamented Eva
“Oh it won’t be as bad as all that, I’m sure,” Tautala replied, “We’re to gather in the village square at 2 o’clock in the afternoon for the speech.”

Eva knowingly glanced at Fiso. Fiso burst out, “That’s when our game is!”

“The boys have a big baseball game tomorrow afternoon.” Eva explained.

Tautala puffed up at this. “Taking after the old man, eh? All of tomorrow afternoon’s
events will be postponed until after the speech. You should watch how these kids spend their time Eva. Baseball is a game from the old regime. Looks kind of suspicious to me. Very shady. Before you know it your boys will be murdering people in their sleep. Like the palagis of the old regime were notorious for. Very bad times. You’ll see. These kids will run off like their old man.”

“Ray didn’t run off, and my boys’ game is harmless enough” Eva had just about given
up with the old woman, and she sounded like it.

“Anyway, it’s getting late and I should be going,” muttered the old woman as she got up
to leave, “Nice speaking with you though.”

“Boys, would you walk the old mother back to her home, please?” Asked Eva.

“Aww, Mom!” groaned Fiso

“Justdo it,” snapped Eva, “It’s gotten dark as we’ve been talking.

Indeed the sun had fully set beneath the watery horizon, and the sky had turned to a
deep purple. Tolo and Fiso escorted the old woman down the path. A coconut crab, possibly the same one from earlier in the evening, seemed to be heading to cross the path in front of them. It must’ve thought better of its course because it turned the other way and disappeared into the brush. The boys took the old woman all the way home and were back within fifteen minutes.


“Mom what are we going to do about our game? This is a really big one. We play
against the top team in the standings, the Falemoa Feral Chickens. We’ve gotta beat them.” Fiso complained.

“I’m sure you’ll play well, boys. You’ll just have to wait a little bit longer to beat that sorry team.” Eva replied.

“What’s so special about a chief coming anyway?” Fiso asked.
Eva explained “A chief, also called a matai, is very powerful, and they command a large group of guards. They govern us as they see fit. Most of them have a dreadful sense of propriety, so please be extra careful tomorrow. I would want this matai making an example out of either of you boys. Promise me you’ll behave?”

“All right, Mother,” said Tolo.

“Okay, okay,” replied Fiso.

“Thank you,” Eva let out a sigh of relief.

“Mother?” ventured Tolo, “What was that old language phrase Tautala said about Dad?”

“She must think she’s very clever. Although that’s all I heard when your father first disappeared. It means, ‘the sting ray has fled but it has left its sting.’ It’s a snarky way of saying that Ray has damaged this family. The old saying was too obvious for people not to use it, considering your father's name, Ray.”

“Dad didn’t leave on purpose, right?” asked Tolo.

“No honey, he loved you both very much. He never would have left you two. I’m sure Ray Leiloa has not fled. Neither has he left his stinger, but he is merely lost. In the old language, that's what Leiloa means. Lost” Eva reassured, “Now let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow’s a big day. It’s the feast for the war goddess Nafanua, after all.”

The trio pulled out their sleeping mats and each of them lay down pulling a sheet over their bodies and fell asleep without much talk. Thus ended the last mundane day for the Leiloa family.

Samoan pronunciation guide

The following pronunciation guide makes me feel a little bit like I’m copying Orson Scott Card’s Speaker for the Dead. But when I read that book, I really appreciated having the pronunciation guide so I didn’t feel uncertain about characters’ names. Even if I was mispronouncing them in my mind, I didn’t feel like I was mispronouncing them. I am going to try to keep all the use of Sāmoan words to a reasonable balance so that the reader doesn’t feel overwhelmed. If I err, it will probably
be on the side of using too much Sāmoan in the first draft. Hopefully if the readers feel able to pronounce the words, and I make it clear enough what each represents, then the story will continue to be interesting.

Here's the guide:

First of all, vowels are important. Since learning Sāmoan and subsequently studying some Spanish I’ve noticed that American English speakers tend to turn about half of vowel sounds into the ǝ schwa sound “uh” even if a technically correct pronunciation of a word doesn’t involve the schwa sound. This is fine for English because most English ears listen more closely to the consonant sounds. The Sāmoan language is opposite. Vowel sounds are generally what differentiate most words from each other. Some consonants can even be interchanged. If you know how to pronounce Spanish vowels, then you’re most of the way ready to pronounce any Sāmoan word. A is pronounced “ah” as in father although even in Sāmoan it can tend toward a schwa sound “uh” at the end of a dipthong (a dipthong means two vowels slurred together) such as fea, fia, foa, or fua. E is pronounced as an “eh” or “ay” sound as in hey. I is pronounced “ee” as in peek. O is pronounced “oh” as in tote. U is pronounced “oo” as in flute. Put any two vowels together and you get a dipthong. Generally you can just sound out each
vowel sound in the dipthong slurred together a little bit and that’s correct. The dipthongs ai and ae can be approximated with the sound “eye” as in a person’s eyes. The dipthongs au and ao can be approximated by “ow” as in the word cow. The dipthongs oe and oi can be approximated by “oy” as in the word toy. Again other dipthongs mostly just sound like each vowel sound stuck
together and slurred a little bit: ui sounds like “oo” slurred with “ee”,eo sounds like “eh“ slurred with “oh”, and so on. Consonants are mostly similar to English consonants. The most notable exception is G, which sounds like the “ng” sound in the English words bringer, or singing. So a word like pālagi sounds like “Pah- lah-ngi” agaga sounds like ah-ngah-ngah”, galuega sounds like “ngah-loo-eh-ngah”. If you have problems with this, I suggest just using an English N which is what analogous Hawaiian words use instead of the Sāmoan G. So the Sāmoan lagi is similar to the Hawaiian lani. Close enough for this story. F, L, M, N, S, and V are close enough to the English consonants. You can also use the English pronunciations for K, P, and T but they’re not exactly the same. English K, P, and T are heavily aspirated. Aspirated means it has breath or a puff of air behind it. English speakers generally put a lot of breath behind consonants K, P, and T, but Samoans don’t. Samoan consonants K, P and T generally trend slightly toward their un-aspirated counterparts: English G, B, and D respectively. Like I mentioned before, some consonants are interchangeable. T and K are mostly interchangeable, G and N are interchangeable in casual speech, and R is usually turned into L. In my story there will be some interchanging of T and K, but not of the other letters. There is one more consonant sound represented by an apostrophe ‘ called a glottal stop. Depending on where you‘re from you may notice that you don’t actually make a T sound when you say the word button or the word mountain. Most people replace the T’s with glottal stops without even knowing it! Button becomes buh’uhn and mountain becomes some
kind of monstrosity approaching a sound like “moun’uhn”. When you say uh-oh, there’s generally a glottal stop there between the “uh” and the “oh”. It’s a sharp break in the vocalization. A Sāmoan word like pea sounds like “pay-uh” with the “ay” and “uh” sounds kind of slurred together. But put a glottal stop in between the vowels and it becomes another word, pe’a
or “pay’uh”. There is a distinct break in between the “ay” sound and the “uh” sound.
There’s one last thing I need to mention. Unless otherwise indicated by a macron or horizontal bar over a vowel, the second to last syllable in a Sāmoan word is the syllable to be the most
accented. So the word savali, meaning to walk is pronounced “sah-VAH-lee”. The first syllable sah almost trends toward a schwa sound. The second syllable, using capitals for accent, has a very clear aw sound and is held a little bit longer for accent. But if I put the accent over the first syllable, written sāvali, the first syllable is very clear, and held a little longer. “SAW-vah-lee” changes the meaning of the word to the noun message. So you may have noticed the macron over the word Sāmoa. Most people I know pronounce this with the first syllable as a schwa sound “suh-moh- uh”. While I’m fine with people using this pronunciation, I always take flak from people when I pronounce it correctly, like I’m just pronouncing it that way to be pretentious or something. I only pronounce it that way because I have a better ear for vowels now and “suh-moh-uh” sounds really bad to me now. Imagine you were going to the hardware store and I want a tool to cut wood with. Suppose I asked you to buy a “suh” at the hardware store and bring it back to me. You’d probably think I had an aneurism or something. You would only know what I was talking about through the context of the entire sentence. The word is clearly “saw” and
no other substitute works as well. Again the point of this guide is that the reader feels more comfortable with the Sāmoan words in this story. I hope this guide accomplishes that in some measure. If you feel comfortable with a pronunciation you made up yourself then more power to you for it. I hope you enjoy my story, and I hope the Sāmoan doesn’t come across as pretentious or
otherwise lame.

Prologue

In the years following the 2nd Civil War of the United States, monumental changes began to take place that left our world permanently altered. This series of conflicts, also known as the carbon wars, originally began as a humble debate between the two prominent factions in the nation regarding global temperature trends. These diametrically opposed forces, commonly known as the reds and the blues, became increasingly embittered as the debate raged on.
After a tropical storm inundated Bangladesh, the news reports began coming in revealing refugees fleeing the flooded Bengal countryside. The sight of troops in United States red uniforms aiding the Indian standing military in repelling the refugees by force quickly catalyzed an all-out stateside uprising. The newly consolidated blue militia began attacking red strongpoints, always retreating if red forces were too overwhelming. Eventually, blue’s numbers won out. Having little ability to replenish its ranks, red was finally defeated for good at the Battle of Possum Hollow Quarry. Afterward, when the treaty of Nob Hill was signed, the newly established blue government turned its efforts immediately to the two tasks that constituted its primary agenda. The second task, still a point of contention within the victor party, was to create a carbon dioxide sink that would remove atmospheric CO2 currently in the atmosphere. However, the blue government and supporters were all united behind their first task at hand: the emergency shutdown of humanity’s collective carbon output by force. The goal agreed upon was to reduce emissions from the pre-war estimate of roughly 20 gigatons CO2 yearly down to 1 gigaton yearly within the first five years of Blue’s sovereignty. Then in the following five years they were to
decrease anthropogenic greenhouse gas emissions to negligible.

Immediately following Red’s defeat, petroleum fueled automobiles were outlawed and coal-burning power plants were shut down. The comparatively meager energy contribution from wind powered, solar, and geothermal power plants was re-appropriated to the most vital energy needs of the nation. Families were left in darkness. X-boxes were unsurprisingly useless.

Blue immediately turned its war forces from the Red threat to the North American neighbors of the United States. The momentum brought by years of war production ensured that North America was secured quickly with little bloodshed. As the New Pan-American martial law swept the western hemisphere, it became clear what the next step would be. The blues were already allied with most of Western Europe, and most of the non-allied European nations would fall swiftly. The next biggest global offender was without question the Far East.

Thus Blue was left with the difficult quandary of “how to win a war against the nation that is your biggest outsourcer of war production.” Fortunately, the ingenuity of America’s scientists and engineers did not fail. The advent of especially low-albedo solar cells and highly efficient capacitors allowed for the introduction into the world of the first solar-powered, tank-mounted death ray. This engineering marvel the first of the “green war-machines” took days to charge. But it emitted energy in the microwave frequency of the electromagnetic spectrum that was the final word on the battlefield. The cone of energy issuing from the front of the tank could be adjusted for intensity and adjusted to a wide or narrow swath. These tanks could vaporize any organic material within their immense range, leaving buildings and machinery largely intact. Death ray production was initiated with full priority.

Contracts with the Chinese war producers were terminated one by one as final shipments were made. Then the continental scale invasion began. The death rays had such range that fighting them on the ground was nearly impossible. The invasion was so sudden, and the blues did well enough job concealing the death rays from airstrikes, that fighting them was nearly impossible. Major problems included civilian vaporizations, as well as friendly fire (appropriately called friendly vaporizations to most people). It became a subject of debate whether water vapor liberated from the corpses of enemies was contributing to the greenhouse effect. Scientists determined that the effect was inconsequential when offset with the removal of the respective carbon footprints associated with these vaporized enemies.

Eventually, as the fighting died down and Blue was left the unquestioned sovereign of the Earth, attention turned to the second phase of Blue’s agenda. The proposed course of action involved injecting a large amount of aqueous iron solution into polar ocean waters. The intended effect is that calcareous photosynthesizing plankton would thrive on this nutrient solution. These planktonic organisms take carbon dioxide and turn it into the calcite that makes up their skeletons. Although much research had been conducted into the effect this might have, it was still largely unknown what would happen if this plan was employed on a global scale. Fear tactics of politicians convinced the elderly, and the plan was put into motion. Fleets of ships launched out to sea dumping their cargo returning to land only to refill. As summer progressed, plankton concentration increased super-exponentially. It seemed that the project was a success. Scientists watched and waited. It seemed that while the earth’s climate was still warming, the rate of increase was decreasing. Scientists estimated that the climate would eventually stabilize. Continental ice was a thing of the past, and climate had forever been changed. But at least humans had avoided extinction. Things may have gone as predicted except for a variable unaccounted for.

An ancient being, living in the deep Southern Pacific Ocean quietly noted the dramatic increase of the detrital snowfall of dead plankton on its silent abyssal plain. The calcareous oozes spread rapidly, and the being disapproved (possibly because the plankton were the organism it associated with most). Known only to a small subset of the human population, the sea creature was called the Mago I Foa, by the people of the Polynesian island chain of Samoa. This creature, a sojourner from another galaxy, had madeits home in our waters many centuries ago. The Samoans said it was a large fish because they had no other words to describe its horrifying majesty. It is 1,000 feet long without its flagellum, an 800 foot long appendage used for propulsion. It is a creature of ten-fold symmetry, each of its 10 sections containing a spiny sectioned appendage terminating in a large hook. Anterior of each appendage is a row of “eyes” each eye interpreting a different band of electromagnetic information. Also, it had 10 tympanic membranes posterior of the eye arrays for sensing vibrations within the immediate body of water in which it resides. Rows of pharyngeal teeth line its mouth and esophagus.

The Mago I Foa is an intelligent being that communicates telepathically with others of its species through the cosmos. It had a genuine fondness for the people it had once known, the people of Samoa. But it could not abide these others who had taken so much from the planet that had been its home. As it rose from the deep in rage it sent a telepathic message to the people of Samoa in language that they would understand. “People of Samoa, listen. I, the one you call the Mago I Foa am leaving for the waters of my home planet. That is right, I have come from the heavens to make this place my home with you, but now I return. Before I go, I grant some among you with some of my power. Use it to subdue the others of your species and make yourselves rulers of this planet. Let this fulfill the saying of the one you call Nafanua declaring that a kingdom would be brought to Samoa from the heavens.” And with that, the monster rising out of the ocean turned toward the island, gave a somewhat thoughtful spasm of its tentacles, and continued on upward into space.

The change upon the people of Samoa was immediately evident. A portion of the population now traveled from place to place hovering about ten feet above the ground, rather than walking. These same people could levitate objects with their minds and shoot energy beams from their hands. Regardless of their social position before the departure of the Mago I Foa, the people became known as matai, or chiefs. They were the leaders of the newly born Samoan super power. They did not forget the words of the sea legend. Immediately, these matais used their power to bend the wills of nations to their own. Armies fought against single matais and were devastated. Bullets ricocheted back into the ranks from which they came, and death rays vaporized more of their own troops than they did the matais.

The Samoan lifestyle was imposed on the world. As years passed, record of the event was passed down orally. As the climate stabilized, tropical ecology fittingly advanced into higher latitudes. Rising waters, tectonic events, and massive erosion changed the landscape dramatically. The Samoan people spread throughout the world, and matais kept the peace where they were. They employed a standing army to enforce law where they could not be. The world was changed forever. Whatever change the Mago I Foa had made on the Earth was widespread. As oral tradition continued, rumors of giants, wizards, shapeshifters, and other kinds of magic filled the Earth.

Kingdom From Heaven

Hello. This is one of the ideas I've had for a novel for some time, but haven't gotten around to actually writing it down. The tentative title refers to a Samoan legend about a goddess named Nafanua who was born Athena-style sans Zeus' head (fully formed) out of the ground. She was a supreme warrior, and was sought after by the leader, Malietoa as he was trying to become the king of all Samoa. The warrrior/prophetess replied to Malietoa that there would not be a kingdom in Samoa until it was brought here from heaven. The word used for "heaven" is lagi, which is synonomous for "sky". A widely believed interpretation for this prophecy is that she was referring to the arrival of Christianity, and that the kingdom is the kingdom of God.

This story comes from a dream I had about two boys who live in a future world where Samoa reigns over the entire world. Many elements of Samoan mythology are going to be used, although it is a future world entirely of my own creation and is not meant to be a completely accurate recounting of Samoan mythology. The entire world I created is more Samoan in culture, language, and climate/ecology. This is where the current version of my prologue comes into play. It is meant to convey how our world becomes theirs. It is a dramatic change involving some science and some supernatural forces. I am not entirely sure I like this prologue yet for this story. It was from another idea I had for a story about what happens when scientists take extreme measures to try to combat global warming by injecting a nutrient iron solution into arctic waters to try to increase planktonic calcareous organisms which would in theory neutralize human carbon dioxide emissions. I think there still may be a story there. I am currently trying to decide whether the feel of this prologue may be too discordant with my current story, and I think more likely than not it is. So I am writing the prologue as a modular, stand-alone piece that simply establishes how our would became theirs. It should be easily rewritable enough.

If anyone reading this has a good understanding of Samoan legends, and/or knows a good source for me to conduct more research, then I would be glad to hear it. Also, again if anyone reading this sees any blatant flaws in my Samoan mythology, I'm happy to hear suggestions. This is meant to be only loosely based on Samoan mythology, but I'm happy for all the inspiration I can get.

One more thing. This is one of my first attempts at writing fiction, so I understand the writing's not that strong. Enough disclaimers, let me know what you think.

Genesis

Well, I suppose we'll all see how long it takes me to give up on this new-fangled internet gizmometry. Then I'll go back to the regular old-fangled way of keeping in touch with people: by hurling rotten cephalopods at them from a speeding car.
Anyway, to anyone who may be reading this, Hans is roomates with Wong up here in Logan. I am one semester away from graduating with a degree in Geology at USU. After which my plans are to move on to some graduate school or other studying geophysics.
That's all I have the stomach for right now. So I'll see if I get more into this later.