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The forest (part one)

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Mickey March 12
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The forest

By: L.F. Young

07 March 2025

*trigger warning: none

*not my picture

Part one

Orientation day

Date: 25 September 2752

Probably a Tuesday

     “The forest isn’t just a living, breathing… ever moving entity. She’s an extremely fickle, single organism that has only one rule. One goal. Feed, feed… feed! The forest is always famished, forever searching intensely at where, when, who’s going to be that next juicy morsel. Be warned. Be ever vigilant.

Be ever awake and don’t forget to be… ever hungry. As your days and nights blend from one to another, in your daily monotonous, boring routine. For the next ten years. Take care that the endless days under the one hundred percent canopy closure. With its absolute darkness and one percent humidity.

Doesn’t lay the seeds of despair in your mortal soul and its unbreakable foundation of unmitigated madness. Within your flimsy, fragile human bodies and even weaker slow witted minds.

Thank you for attending and listening this riveting tale of, how to survive. The forest! Here ends the welcoming introduction packet to… the forest. , never forget to be vigilant and hungry. Good luck. You’re going to need it!” Said the floating A.I. hologram disembodied head, with a husky female voice. Who cheerfully gave the introductory briefing to the latest set of newcomers to arrive at the forest.

The forest was one of the five satellite moons that orbited the recently discovered giant gaseous planet. Three solar systems from Earth. It was nicknamed the forest after the only surviving person from the original landing party was rescued. A doctor Jemmen J. Johnson, came back broken, but held it together to give a detailed explanation of what they had found.

Dr. Johnson went into great detail of the various vegetation, raw materials even a few new elements to add to the periodic table and possible uses that could be harvested. Becoming a massive boon, if harvested, to the companies profit margins in all aspects from research and development, to increasing the company’s wealth. In turn massively increasing the major stockholders share ten fold, heck, a thousand fold.

Then her eyes glazed over with something akin to the look in a sociopathic inmate, that had been diagnosed with schizophrenia and mental madness. Dr. Johnson said with a literal deadpan straight face, that death lives on that moon. Then commenced to drool excessively, while laughing inquiringly. It took the medical team two hours to bring her back from wherever she had slipped off to.

When the good doctor looked more closely to a semi functional human being again. She was not so kindly pressured into giving a better explanation, the board of directors or face criminal charges. Before she drifted back into cuckoo land. All they got out of her, was, the forest was alive. The forest was ever moving. It was ever hungry. Then she slipped wholly back into her shattered mind, and that endless madness.

As in all things, secrets never stay hidden. Within hours the good doctor’s retelling of the horrific events on the smallest of the five moons became the food of legends. From that day on the smallest of the five satellite moons acquired the new designation of… the forest.

The A.I. affectionately called Marylou shut off the projector, while quickly bringing up the central lighting. Along with decreasing the heat to a more welcoming level of comfort. Now that the briefing was over in the oversized reception room. The A.I. then turned on a small set of blinking yellow lights that signaled the direction the new recruits were meant to follow.

He wasn’t completely sure, but corporal, David Swan had the impression that the A.I. snuck a small giggle at the end of her welcoming speech. It was very faint, but upon replaying it back on his integrated docking pad that had been bonded to his skeletal structure at birth. David asked his personal A.I. the question of if the A.I. had giggled at the end of the video. He got no response, David had asked the question to softly.

He had to ask the question again, slightly louder, but not loud enough to be overheard by anyone in the immediate vicinity. Especially the master sergeant overseeing the orientation. His personal forearm pad, more commonly known as Fpad, only gave him a quick wink then gave David its own little giggle. It was common practice to give your personal A.I. a name, David’s name for his Fpad was called Amy.

“Is that supposed to mean a yes, Amy?” Asked David as he glared at his Fpad.

Amy’s responded with another wink.

“You do know I can get another A.I. program. Keep it up and see if I don’t replace your snobby ares.” Whispered David as he practically put his lips on the liquid screen. This time David only got silence from Amy.

Every person born in the galactic empire was bonded with a small nanotechnology liquid iPad at birth. It was bonded to the infant’s skeleton at their one year birthday. The procedure couldn’t be done any sooner because there was a fifty percent chance that the infant’s body would reject the bonding process. All newborn babies were kept in a housing facility till then, only being allowed for adoption after the bonding was completed.

Once the one year old infant received his or her Fpad, the blending process could begin with it building millions of nanowires connecting itself to the infant’s nervous system over the next decade. Eventually developing a curved screen, made of a near unbreakable liquid nano construction. Five inches wide by six inches long and one quarter of an inch thick screen.

That conformed to the shape of the ten year old child’s left forearm. Located on the inside half of the top of the forearm, running to the inside half of the underside of the forearm. The development of the liquid nanotechnology was herald as a massive breakthrough in human development and evolution. Giving the populous, a way to keep everyone updated on what was happening in their quadrant of known space.

In reality, it was a way for the empire to keep an all spying eye on every living person. Each personal iPad’s software was designed to conform to each individuals personality, David’s, was overly sensitive, moody, leaning to the more melodramatic personality that also held a grudge way, way too long.

Corporal David Swan and the rest of the thirty new recruits, snapped to attention instantly upon hearing.

“Alright ladies stop your lip smacking and hand grabbing. Grab your crap and follow the blinking yellow lights. Once outside file into the pre-generated groups that’s been created and assigned for you.” Yelled master sergeant Ramirez.

“WTF! This is our orientation video? That A.I. didn’t say shit about the indigenous lifeforms, what types of vegetation is safe to consume. Hell… it didn’t ever wish us good luck. Be hungry. WTF does that even mean? And stay awake, are you kidding me. How am I supposed to stay awake all the time?”

David Swan had been an enlisted soldier for over five years now and kept his personal opinions to himself. Learning years ago that keeping quiet was the best policy, if you wanted to reach retirement age, and hopefully in a fairly decent shape. David listened to the new recruit, as he peened on and on about how the A.I. didn’t address anything remotely about how to survive and handle this small moons… more deadly inhabitants.

All that David wanted to do was get through the first day and find where his bunk was located. And hopefully find some aspirin for the growing headache he was developing from this noob private, still whining about the orientation video.

“Oh, please for the love of Elvis’s sexy arse voice. Take your sweet arse time, ladies.”

“Really serg. It’s so nice to finally have someone who understands that new recruits need a moment or two to adjust to our new location.” Replied the very same noob, who was harping about the introduction video.

“Is that so private Mueller.”

“Um… thank yo…?”

“Get the fuck up! If your butts aren’t outside and in formation in five seconds, I’ll personally introduce you to my not so nice face. Move it! Move it! Move it! Or receive my twelve inch boot in your arse.”

It only took fourish seconds for all thirty recruits to exit the orientation building and assemble into a fairly decent formation. Before, a cacophony of chaos erupted everywhere and nowhere at the same moment. A simple brush lying next to a tree, just outside the quarantine zone sprang to life with six inch claws and five inch daggers for teeth. The tree resting next to the bush, turned out to not be a tree but something entirely unrelated to any tree the new recruits had ever even imagined.

The tree, not tree. Reached down from an impossible height and snatched the brush, not brush and swallowed it whole. There was a sickening crunch and an ungodly scream before the tree not tree’s overly large mouth stopped chewing. At the same moment in several other sections just outside of the QZ (quarantine zone). Other strange and misshapened creatures screamed, growled, slashed, bit, chomped and swallowed other creatures that resemble some type of vegetation. That wasn’t actually something far dangerous and extremely deadly.

The original tree, not tree, took a second to stare at private Mueller, the one soldier who by chance was the closest to the security fence. Decided it needed a snack to munch on as it made its way further back into the heart of the forest. Where corporal Swan guessed his home was located, to search for more delicious morsels to devour.

“We don’t have all day… ladies. If you’re done craping in your tighty-whitey’s, get into formation this instant,” yelled master sergeant Ramirez, as he took a second look at the spot private Mueller had been standing in five seconds ago. “It looks like we’ll be having a funeral gathering right after evening meal services for private Mueller. Anyone wishing to attend be there promptly after mess hall in your dress greens. Everyone one else, I recommend you get as much sleep as you can get. Come tomorrow, your arse’s are mine. And just in case no one’s said it yet… welcome to the forest.”

The forest (part one)-The forest
By: L.F. Young
07 March 2025

*trigger warning: none
*not my picture 

Part one

Orientation
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