Termination

I'm up on the tight wire

One side's ice and one is fire

One side's hate and one is hope

— Leon Russell

***

PART ONE

The world was flat. This was intuitive. It was obvious. No one fell off. No one ever had.

On an otherwise spherical world forever tidally locked to its sun, there ran a terminator that was a 22-mile longitudinal strip of Kapock rainforest--the Taputini. Vertically bisecting this ribbon of lush vegetation on an otherwise paradoxically dead world, precariously juxtaposed between ice and lava, was a mile-wide river running north to south and separating the two co-existing civilizations--the Tenz and the Phillippi--who each shared their respective banks of Taputini forest.

There was a single moon that revolved around this world, although it caused nary a wobble in the borders within which lay the planet's only verdancy, it's habitable zone of arable land and fresh water. The lands between the borders of this lush terminator were where that fresh water was neither ice nor processed instantly into steam, but ran melodiously so slowly that it could be caught in a cup. The water was plentiful, for the River Taputini was mighty, fed by what was thought to be a glaciated ice rim at the top of--again, what was thought to be--their flat world.

The Tenz and the Phillippi were the self-named ancient peoples of the terminator between the heat and cold, and they were quite similar. River Taputini separated their homelands, their populations, their religions, and their histories. But while these separations existed, like the river itself they were fluid. There were hardly any secrets between them.

No bridge was ever built from the Tenz to the Phillippi shores, because the leaders of both felt that good fences make good neighbors, and the river was as good a fence as could be. That is, one couldn't just saunter over bridging to get from one side to the other; thus, it was more of a process, involving a ferry and no small amount of pageantry.

Going from one side to another was meant to be a big deal and not something too easy, because it was felt that the flow between nations shouldn't be such a passive process, but an active one--one that meant something. The meeting of two peoples should be for a special reason and not for something as casual as tourism.

From the Clerical Council of the Church of the Tenz and the Basilica of the Phillippi:

Separation is balance; it is stability. We have learned the hard lesson that our peoples coexist due to a mutual respect for the self-determination of each. Bridges do not vet the crossers who travel them. Bridges allow flow, both calm and turbulent. The River is sacred; let it illuminate the uniqueness of each side the apartness that is its current. Allow not, bridges, for they conjoin the sacred separation between our peoples that is our very essence.

The Tenz occupied the Taputini Rainforest that bordered the bright, scorched west side of their world; the Phillippi people were adjacent to the east side beyond which was forever shrouded in frozen darkness. Even though both currently co-existed without conflict or drama, that had not always been so. In fact, a serious conflict had occurred fewer than 18 world-years prior which had taken a number of innocent lives on both sides. Such was the hard lesson cited in the sacred text.

As such, there were some aspects to their relationship that were somewhat tentative. One such item was the pending marriage of both leaders' son and daughter, which had been planned since long before their births, cancelled during the conflict, and then reinstated after their war as a commitment to keeping the peace.

This union had been foretold in the religious tomes of both peoples generations prior; as each people ticked off their pedigrees, one generation at a time, the countdown had run its course to coincide with the birth of one male child and one female child on either side of the river. This was the holy sign between the Tenz and the Phillippi that symbolized peace. Now it seemed the holy texts had come to their conclusion, and the clerics of each religion knew that this marriage would usher a new age--one that required a new encyclical to be written.

Everything would change--the interaction between the peoples of the forest and even their religions.

The Tenz and the Phillippi of the Tatupini got along for the most part. There was the usual us-vs-them jingoism on each side, mostly fueled by military thinking and martial attention to security, national identity, and ethnic labeling. It was, of course, the foretold union between the two of them that would finally forever fuse the Tenz and the Phillippi. As the prince and princess were coming of age, there was an excitement in the air--the taste of destiny. Finally, life would be able to move as one world, one flat bisected world of limited flora and fauna and water.

The two heir apparents, Tesh and Phinea, were pampered from birth for their role. They had each been sequestered away from other children. They had been relentlessly schooled in their royal duties throughout their childhood and adolescence. They had been instructed on the intended genetic union of their respective peoples by their sexual biology, presented scientifically in a way that only piqued their interest in the non-scientific aspects of their destiny.

Fertility on the world was limited, probably due to the geographical constraints that had affected hormonal physiology in some type of mind-body connection. However, the leaders felt their children, as chosen by their Gods, would not suffer being childless. How could they? The leaders themselves had been chosen so long ago!

Piqued interest has a way of winning out, and with the cooperation of trusted servants, it was easy for the betrothed to meet each other, driven by a need to know what they were getting into.

As it turned out, they got into each other.

Thus, in a manner of speaking the Tenz prince and Phillippi princess had already sealed the deal, an impromptu, passionate tryst provoked by their passionate worries over a political dissolution to their arranged marriage: they were in love. They were unfailingly, adolescently, stupidly, and forever in love. They made themselves their own heads-of-state and their edict was as final as it was consummated.

The flora and fauna on this world had evolved as a result of the unique aspects of the planet, some plants and animals favoring the warmer vertical side of the river, while others favored the cooler side. Ironically, it was the cold-blooded fauna that preferred the warm and, alternatively, the warm-blooded ones that preferred the cooler side. Alternate biochemistries linked them to their respective climate preferences. It was this gravitation of species preference which established the ritualistic differences between the Tenz and the Phillippi religions. They each had their sacred animals--symbols of fertility, bravery, and destiny.

Only one known living thing seemed to frit freely between both of these zones--the juvenile Golden Protector wasp. Although it was called juvenile, it was actually just diminutive. Although it was called Golden, it had a reddish hue, the golden only revealing itself as an accidental glimpse out of the corner of the eye of someone privileged to catch it at just the right angle. And although it was deemed a protector, no one was sure of--from just what--they were being protected. The mythos that had emerged in subtly different ways between the two peoples generally involved the insect's magical control over the planet's axis, keeping the terminator zone stable.

The Tenz and the Phillippi had no idea how correct they really were in this assumption.

This mysterious arthropod was an enigma, being only one of its kind. Forever, both the Tenz and Phillippi never knew of any other of its race and, without the concept of reproduction to consider, the wasp was felt to be immortal.

The lore grew and overlapped in both peoples--that it was the Golden Protector wasp that kept the ice from the fire and maintained the Taputini buffer between east and west halves of their flat world. And even though such a thing was deemed crucial to their survival, all attempts to capture it--if only to protect it--proved futile. Finally, it was adjudicated by treaty that any attempts to interact with the wasp stop and forever be forbidden.

There came a time, much later, when it became murmured about that no one had actually seen the Golden Protector wasp for several generations. Yet, the forest still existed, the river still flowed, and the lava and ice were still separate hemispheres. This prompted an emergency fact-finding meeting of both heads of state.

"How could this be?" asked the Tenz leader, Tenzor.

"I, too, ask the same question," said Phillipp III, the king of the Phillippi.

The joint council, of whose lineage were the very ones who had ratified the Golden Protector Wasp Non-interference Accord generations earlier, mumbled in confusion, no one able to proffer a rational answer.

"It must still exist," said Tenzor.

"Yes," agreed Phillipp III, "for our peoples live and thrive still, within the merciful bounties of the Kapock trees and within the protection of the boundaries of the Taputini."

"Well said," Tenson said to Phillipp III. "Perhaps, I wonder, if the wasp felt slighted by our non-interference with it?"

"It was only for its protection," added Phillipp III.

"Here, here!" and "Well said," and "It must be so," the council attendees interjected.

"Well, whatever the reason," said Phillip III, since all is well, we should just assume the wasp lives..."

"After all, the forest still lives, as do its peoples. Still lives," Tenson agreed--

"But is lost," added Phillippi. "Such is the will of God."

"Here, here!" and "Well said," and "It must be so," the council attendees again interjected. They didn't discuss which God willed it, for each people had their own. But which God was irrelevant.

There being no new business, the meeting was adjoined.

One day the leader of the Tenz called in his advisors excitedly. Once they all had assembled, he had the doors sealed shut. "I found today, in my garden, the body of the dead lost Golden Protector wasp."

"The very?"

"Indeed. Our one Golden Protector wasp. The very one. Our protector. Our savior! Oh, whatever shall we do? The scorched lands will advance and overtake us."

In an extraordinary coincidence, Phillipp III had called in his advisors to tell them that he, too, had found the body of the lost Golden Protector wasp in his own royal garden. Unbeknownst to both, the one-wasp universe lay shattered in the reality of two dead ones simultaneously appearing on both sides of the River Taputini.

"Fie! The frozen death will overtake us at any time," Phillipp III exclaimed. "Certainly we should warn the Tenz."

"Your Highness," offered one of his consuls, "perhaps this is something we should address with discretion."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean to say that our one savior, our one protector, has perished on our very own land."

"Go on."

"Won't it appear--or be assumed--that it was we, the Phillippi, who were responsible for its death? That we thwarted its protection? That we created the end of our world?"

"Which is surely coming," the king said.

"Such infamy is neither welcome nor deserved."

Meanwhile, back with the Tenz, "Shouldn't we, great Tenzor, assume the Phillippi will blame us for its death? That's why we should not report this."

Both councils, without the awareness of what had played out, felt their respective peoples would be blamed and agreed to officially swear an oath that the dead Protector, come what may with fire or ice, should be kept a secret. If both peoples had only a limited time before their deaths during a terminator Armageddon, would it not be terrible if they spent that time warring with each other?

Each member of each council--and Phillipp III and Tenzor themselves--went home that night wondering if they were to have their last night alive on their world. If they would, respectively, die screaming encased in ice or in burning fire by morning. Was it the end of the world?

Hardly.

The lost Golden Protector wasp--also--was hardly a bug.

The Lost Golden Protector wasp was an infolded 3-dimensional cross-section into our world from 11-D eternity, serving here to function as a world-axis stabilizer. In this respect, the Tenz and Phillippi were right about their worldview (i.e., their doomsday view). Even though both peoples would soon discover there were two, there were not. Singleness is a slippery thing among concurrent universes: the dimensional infolding reduction resulted in doubly entangled wasps of the same living being after passing through the double 3-D slit on their 11-D realm. The formula for this was large enough to fill several 12-story buildings.

Were the two (one?) entangled wasp(s) entangled dead?

Hardly.

They had retreated safely into their remaining 8 dimensions. And while they still held some sway on their world's axis, there were some perturbations.

King Phillippi III was startled to realize he was still alive and not frozen to death; Tenzor, likewise, realized upon awakening that he wasn't a cinder. Each of the leaders summoned their stewards to check the status of each wasp respectively. Each steward, almost as if they were entangled themselves, entered the supreme bed chambers wide-eyed to report that each carcass--under the protections of the Tenz and Phillippi, accordingly--were gone!

The usual crosstalk between the peoples was suspended that day. The joint fishing hunt on the river was canceled. The wedding preparations were placed on hold, and the bride and groom were each placed under house arrest to make sure there were no indiscretions.

The respective leaders convened their consuls again.

"King Phillippi," his chief consul began, "I know not the whereabouts of the Golden Protector. I secured the vault where it lay, and I stationed two guards at the entrance."

"Most mysterious," Phillippi III said. "Is there any suspicion of our forest co-dwellers in this disappearance?"

"Well," the chief consul mused out loud, "it couldn't have been any of us Phillippi. After all, they are them and we are us."

"Here, here," was launched from several mouths. Phillippi III wrapped the fingers of both his hands simultaneously on the consulate table.

"It may be time to make the announcement to the Tenz authorities?" he said tentatively, raising his voice on the last syllable, as if it were a question.

"No," the chief counsel answered. "Especially if they are involved."

"How? The vault was sealed and there were guards."

"I don't know, Sire. But you know how they are."

Meanwhile, Tenzor was investigating the similar disappearance under his own watch. "No, counsel, I don't know how they are," he said. "Tell me."

"We have no reason to distrust them except that they are very cold people."

"Here, here," from the table.

"I'd like to go with my gut," said Tenzor, "and I'd like to make a surprise visit to King Phillipp." The table went completely silent. "Make this happen, counsel."

The counselors were supercilious beyond the number of actual raised eyebrows, but their leader had spoken and the preparations began.

High above River Taputini two Golden Protector wasps danced on the breeze that blew over the forest canopy that stretched over both sides of the water. They exfolded into multiple dimensions, then shot up high into the jet stream. Below, the heat that bordered the Tenz and the cold that contained the Phillippi began to move toward the central vertical river.

Tenzor, as he ferried across the river to see his counterpart of the Phillippi, noticed something never seen before in the world. Looking coldward toward the Phillippi he saw a layer of red light on the horizon. He felt it strange, because the cold side horizon seemed to be glowing, as if with severe heat.

Phillippi III's intelligence corps was excellent, so he knew about the pending visit from the Tenz leader. Standing on the shore of his side of the river, he noticed something he had never seen before. People on other worlds might call it dawn or dusk. But with the recent scare of the dead Protector, Phillippi realized the world was in motion.

"This is how it ends," he said out loud. His ferry crew lost the color in their faces. "Stop!" he commanded. The oarsmen dutifully obeyed. "We're in the middle of the river. Whatever is approaching us from the horizon comes here last. I am your leader, and I must be last to perish."

By this time, Phillipp had concluded the episode the same way. "Fetch my daughter," he commanded. His entourage started shifting their feet nervously, otherwise immobile--otherwise not off to fetch anything. "What! Why aren't you off now? Fetch my daughter!"

"Sir," the head armed escort began, "she is currently not available."

"Why is that? Is she with the Moon?" as the quaint saying went.

"No, sir, she is with the Tenz prince."

Phillipp's face blanched, then reddened in rage. He began formulating a plan for quick and harsh punishment for his guards when there appeared in the distance a sailing vessel to the north of them ducking in and out of a rolling mist that was moving toward them. This was puzzling, because any movement issued forth from the East or the West, between the two peoples settled in the forest. North and South simply were not directions of action in their world.

Tenzor stood on the bow of his official state ferry and noted the southbound vessel, too. He listed skillfully with the boat, in amazement, as the mysterious vessel continued on an intercept course with his ferry. Murmuring ensued among the two sets of contingents. Truly this was unprecedented: someone who was neither Tenz nor Phillippi--not traveling East or West.

All life on the planet seemed to stop as the sailing vessel approached. Finally, Tenzor ordered his ferry to continue to Phillipp's shoreline; he felt whatever was coming required both of them, unified, as the stewards of their world. The mist that shrouded the mysterious boat allowed only identification of how many sailors there were on it, but not any features.

True to the novel circumstances, what finally arrived was neither Tenz nor Phillippi. It was both, for the leaders would soon be surprised to see their children.

Phillippi III's dock had received the Tenz state ferry, but there was no conversing between the two leaders. All eyes were fixed on the mist rolling in from the North.

As if to make an ostentatious entrance, the mist parted like curtains being drawn, and a rope was thrown from someone on the bow. That someone was Tesh, the Tenzor prince and heir apparent to his people. Phinea, the Phillippi princess, stood behind him smiling the smile of naïvité that came with such puerile unions.

Tenzor lowered his head and when he raised it up again, his eyes were glaring at his guard contingent. They snapped into battle readiness with the shuffle and slapping of sudden posture arrangement and grasping of their weaponry.

Phillippi just stared at Phinea in disbelief. These two children, as he regarded them, were together alone, and they had been alone for some time, all of it clandestine and in the privacy of their sailing vessel. No one else was aboard.

"Father," began Tenzor. Tenzor held up his hand, forbidding him.

"No!" shouted Phinea to Tenzor. "Hear him, sir." Tenzor's grimace didn't exactly soften, but it did reach a type of neutrality.

"I have news from the other side of the world, Father. And," to Phillipp III, "your highness."

"The other side of the world?" Tenzor blurted in disbelief. "There is no other side of the world. The world is flat. It ends to the north where the river overflows the top edge and to the south where it overflows the bottom." All in witness began laughing at how unnecessary it was to explain such an intuitive truth. It was axiomatic, figuring into the religious instruction of both the Tenz and the Phillippi.

"No," Phinea said defiantly. "That is all wrong now. We have seen it. We have sailed south from here, found the great iciness at what we thought was the end of the world, and the tide from the Moon opened a channel through it, and going farther south became for us sailing north."

"How is that possible, daughter?" Phillipp III asked in ridicule. "This cannot be true, or you would have fallen off!"

"Because our world is round, not flat."

All laughed until abruptly stopping at the upraised hand of Tenzor.

"It's true," agreed Tesh, in confident affirmation.

Tesh reached down to pick up a small box and presented it to all there. He slowly opened its lid and from it a pair of Golden Protector wasps fluttered out.

Two!

Tesh and Phinea each held out a hand and a wasp lighted on each. This was no less astounding than a religious vision. All people on the shore fell to their knees.

"Our world is saved," said one of the Tenz soldiers when all saw the two Golden Protector wasps ascend out of site.

"By this union of Tesh and Phinea," a Phillippi guard added.

The two fathers stood in silence and trembled. It remained awkward until Tenzor walked from the dock to Phillippi and extended both of his arms. The two men embraced each other tightly to the cheers on both sides of them. Then they released each other and turned to the young couple. Tenzor embraced Phinea, his new daughter-in-law, and Phillipp III embraced his new son-in-law, Tesh.

While the rest of the two kingdoms were getting more and more inebriated, Tenzor and Phillipp III sat in arduous, focused negotiation designing a new world order. The nations were now joined in sacred bonds, and the couple symbolized the new unified realms on either side of River Taputini. After two days of wanton debauchery outside their doors, they were ready to receive the new couple upon whom the entire all-encompassing document relied.

Both Tenzor and Phillipp III would sign, but so should the miraculous couple who single-handedly ushered in a new wonderful age; and the fact that they brought with them two Golden Protectors and not just one--as it was believed to be, only gave an additional guise of magic to their union. Surely the world was safe from the fire and the ice.

But what of this other side of the world?

The religious prelates of both nations had also met to issue a joint encyclical, which coincidentally was completed at the same time as the sovereign governing edict.

From the Clerical Council of the Church of the Tenz and the Basilica of the Phillippi:

Our great books did not say our world was flat. They only implied it by stating that the holy among us will never fall off. Truth revealed, no one has. And although the land appears flat, Tesh and Phinea have instructed us otherwise. Their tales of another realm of forest on the other side of the world can only mean we live on a sphere so big it only appears flat to us. Otherwise, anyone on the other side of a flat world would fall off, and our royal prince and princess returned intact and in the flesh. Our Supreme Being--whichever one of our two is the true One, works in mysterious ways. Perhaps they work together. Nothing falls off, except the lost Golden Protector wasps, but they fall up. It is not up to us to interpret a Supreme Being, only to accept what appears to us as truth until a new truth replaces it. This is called Faith, and the lack thereof may still risk falling off this sphere, as it is. Just as one side is fire and one is ice, the line dividing Faith separates hate from hope. But no shapes are more adherent than others. Whether flat or round. That's what we have learned by this God-given epiphany.

As expected, there were some growing pains in the new world order, but over the months the unification matured peacefully. When all seemed as if it were going smoothly, portending for a glorious river civilization spanning both sides, the bottom dropped out.

"The royal couple are gone!" shouted a handmaiden. The couple had been rotating their residencies on either side of the river, so it was that the Phillippi guards alerted Phillipp III. He immediately was ferried to Tenzor's residence for a meeting.

When he arrived, he was shown into the proclamation room, whereupon Tenzor presented the letter from Tesh and Phinea. Although they both had signed it, it was obviously Phinea's penmanship.

Dear loving parents,

This is the hardest thing to do, since both our mothers had been killed in that great and stupid war. We've come a long way, have we not? We think so. Suspicion is extinct and ill-will between our peoples is a relic of unhappier times. The Protectors live on as does our way of life between the lava and the frozen-over desert. The River Taputini is clear, clean, and replete with the swimming life that helps sustain us. The fruit is plentiful and the ground fertile. Our natural environment is stable and expectations of each day are delivered and never disappoint.

There is a whole new world. Our exploration and surveillance of the continuing river on the other side, and its own lush forests, have shown it to be uninhabited by being such as us. And the animals and plants are according to an entirely different plan. Perhaps there is only one God there, and he must be mighty. Or she?

There is a particularly lovely garden where fruit trees stand tall and plentiful. We have set out for it and wish to settle it. If we haven't returned by the time you read these words, you should assume the South passage was still patent. Although we could hardly fit past the North one when we had returned months ago. We believe this to be a once-in-a-millennium phenomenon. If it remains open, we will return with our family (I am with child now); we will visit. But we will return there, for that will be our home. Our world. Our future. We will be fruitful and multiply and fill that world. If the passages seal, perhaps in hundreds of generations our two peoples will meet.

Tenzor handed the letter back to Phillippi. "We should set out an expedition at once to retrieve them," he said. "Our unification is fragile."

"No," Phillippi replied. He could hear his daughter's voice in the written words said out loud. It was a benevolent voice and portended benevolent things.

"You are right," Tenzor said. "They are with child and that is the confirmation of their independence to act as they want. I wonder if we should confer with the clerics on this."

"Oh, no," Phillipp III blurted. "Don't involve them in anything important. If there be any catastrophic repercussions, certainly the wasps will be back. And God knows what else."

"Then we should be careful," Tenzor urged. "We've run out of sons and daughters." Phillipp nodded in agreement.

"Is it me, or is it getting cold in here?" he asked Tenzor.

***

PART TWO

The Old World and the New World were ready. They were poised to assume their geographic destiny. The entire globe trembled. Then it shimmied. Then it began moving in a spin. The whole process taking a world-year.

First, the winds began, and the river peoples had to batten their windows and doorways. Many domesticated animals were lost and much vegetation was battered beyond salvage. Above them, the people witnessed the stratospheric meeting of fire and ice, day and night for months. High above were the explosions of mutually exclusive elements, forced into sublimation. A rosy fog covered the lands, filtering the sunlight into a moire pattern of shimmying rainbows that crisscrossed themselves, inventing new hues never before witnessed.

Next, the dawns and dusks flickered on both sides of the River Taputini. The Tenz and the Phillippi had never seen such horizons to the East and the West.

Even more miraculous was the moving of their outlying borders. The lava receded, hardened, and cooled; the ice melted and water flowed over the salt beds that had lay hidden immemorial. As the lava cooled, mountains erupted upward with thunderous noise and ground-shaking; as the salt beds mixed with the melted ice, an ocean brewed.

Ultimately, dawn repeated according to the circadian rhythm of the Tenz and the Phillippi; dusk came for every day's end. An age of unaccustomed fertility ensued, and the intermarriage between the two river peoples became fashionable. Soon, an ocean lay to the East and a continent lay to the West. There would be an explosion in population with many places for them to migrate. Yet, they wondered, looking both east and west that, on a sphere, ended on the other side of the world.

***

PART THREE: 800 world-years later

As had been written,

The ancient patriarch and matriarch, Tesh and Phinea, had been fruitful and had multiplied.

The long-perished Tenzor and Phillipp III rest in peace in the history books, as had their wedded children. The North and South Passages had never returned to patency, now covered with miles-high glaciers, the ways blocked by the ice caps. Thus, the top and bottom of the world were dead ends, an ocean separated the New World from the Old World on one side, and a dense forest continent on the other.

When maritime progress finally allowed long voyages, it was the people of the Old World who would venture to their counterpart first, as they were a millennium ahead in their history, knowledge, technology, and even existence.

They had heard the mythos of the antediluvian Tenzor and Phillipp III, and how the Golden Protector wasps had ascended above the heads of the betrothed Tesh and Phinea, high enough to take with them the Grand Attractor that was, otherwise, their anchor to an unchanging hellish day and forever frozen night.

The Tenz contemporary scientists would call it an axis, for they had long separated the science from the mythology. They ridiculed any thought that this axis would fail to function unless whatever the lost Golden Protector wasps symbolized kept the torque about it into operation. Further, their science, far advanced from that of the New World, would measure the tilt of this axis to explain seasons.

The New World mythos, however, explained it differently, appreciating the nature of the Golden Protectors but not necessarily understanding the science. It was no matter, for it was--for the New World--that science and religion were the same.

Their Good Book's first lines read,

In the Beginning, Father Tesh and Mother Phinea came to the New World at the behest of the Golden Protectors, who had absconded to establish the VOID that then was filled with the World Motion. And this World Motion begot night and day. The nature of the Golden Protectors is one of the Mysteries, which we celebrate as fertility in the newly returned Warmed Months each World-Year, and from which we ourselves take part in body and in blood. Blessed are the Golden Protectors, for They allow the World to sustain our bodies while they sustain our very Souls.

There came the day that the ships from the Old World reached the shores of the New World. The ship captain, as now recorded in the history tomes, had told the seminal story of first contact:

These are primitive people, yet they possess wondrous things--novel foodstuffs, amazing beasts of burden, and precious metals. Their men are strong and can lift mightily, and their women--for childbearing-- are seductive. This find is Our find, and we can benefit greatly by settling here in this New World and shaping its future. We hereby claim it, as authorized Divinely.

It is evident that these primitives need the guidance, leadership, and direction of our Old World to steady the rudder of their journey toward our manifest destiny.

Far away in other dimensions, a pair of Golden Protector wasps circled this discovery--a New World, by those from an Old World. They had seen this played out many times before.

They revisited in their memories, in each instance, in every epoch, and without exception, saw how the welcomers had fared at the hands of the welcomed. They lamented. The cycle repeated.

They re-imagined a purge of the impurities of the coming age. They re-imagined cleansing by fire and ice, so they re-envisioned an axis, yet again, stayed in its rotation. A resumption of the old order where good fences make good neighbors.

High in the stratosphere, they fluttered their wings in indecisiveness: whether to tidally lock this world in termination of fire and ice. But they already knew the answer. It was obvious. It was as intuitive as the world was flat.