Tales of Mazio

My daughter bought a floppy disk drive because she had a number of floppy disks with information on them. But she also knew I had a lot of floppy disks too. I got opening the floppy disk drive because she doesn't have time at the moment (neither do I!).

Floppy Disks

I pulled out a box of floppy disks and one of them had part of my sci fantasy story on it. But it had been written in Ami Pro, part of the Lotus Smartsuite. Word couldn't read it and I couldn't find the converter it is supposed to have. Amazon sells the Lotus Smartsuite for over £40 ($60) but that wouldn't open my files NOW. So I decided to see if Notepad, the old text editor could open them. LOTS of 0s and 1s and bits of odd text came up but further down the page, there was the text! It needs some cleaning up but here is a taster of it. I have only had the file open about 10 minutes!

Tales of Mazio

Nem jerked her head up, listening for ... In the distance, the jungle exploded with sound - the urgency of the terror screams overlaying the slow, heavy beat of rain dripping on the leaves. She shivered as old memories clawed their way to the surface of her mind and behind her, the Warrior initiates crowded together, glancing nervously at every tree and jumping at each leaf rustle. Nem mumbled a quick charm, hoping the others would remember to do the same, bottling her memories again and ignoring the sour smell of fear from the group behind her. The Lixard was some distance away and posed no threat to them at the moment. She canted another charm, forcing her mind into a tranquillity she was far from feeling, precipitating a sudden calm which would allow her to Sense again.

The Sensed tunnel wavered in front of her, its difference from the forest less marked than usual. It pointed away from the screams surrounding the hunting Lixard. The Guan had not gone that way then - at least, not from this part of the Forest. And yet, the tunnel seemed to be pulling round, wavering,, trying to point towards the Lixard's hunting zone. It was impossible. Sensing showed only what had already occurred. Either the Guan had gone this way or it had gone another. It could not go both ways at once.

Nem's training taught her to ignore the phenomenon. It could not be and therefore was not. Too many creatures on Mazio hunted by illusion or terror. Only those who could cut through them survived. She ignored her training and whispered another spell. The trance deepened.

The tunnel was clearer now, pointing in its former direction, away from the Lixard. Her breathing slowed still further. She was motionless yet fluid. A tree among trees, swaying with the breeze, soaking up the rain and rooting in the soil. She could feel the insects skittering over her bark, seeking shelter from the rain that rivuletted down her trunk towards her roots.

Her Sensing spread through her body down towards her roots. She could feel the pressure in her root hairs, turgid with water absorbed from the soil; could feel the small insects as they crept over her roots; the small worms gliding between the roots, and their mucus - left clinging to her in fine ropes; the fungus spreading thin choking filaments over her, the water film covering the membrane on her fine root hairs, the water film continuous with the rest of the water table, so high in the Great Forest with the almost constant rain; could Sense through the water, reaching out through the water under the Forest floor, past the "What has been", reaching forward to the "Now" elsewhere in the Forest. "Now" spread out in a slow circle from her root base, rippling through the solid pond, the intermix of soil and water that formed the substrate for the Forest at this point. She pushed it further and faster in the direction of the Lixard, distorting her perception of "Now" to a pointed circle and then a fat oval and to a thin oval and finally to a fat line, seeking and questing hungrily in pursuit of the "Now" where the Lixard stalked with Terror.

Her perception of the " Now” travelled as a ripple in the intermix and presently it met other ripples moving out from the “Now” of the Lixard. Thumps travelled as tiny tsunami through the intermix and blood dripping onto the soil added its own metallic taste. Her perception breasted the waves and forged through the taste of terror and then it found a new taste. A taste not native to Mazio, yet containing elements of it, a human taste. And “Now” was a pain of noise, of screeches, of death. And the Stowaway was there.

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