flash fiction--spiritualSciFi "The Outpost"

The God Gene

The jungle tries to be a world of invention. Yes, that is what it must be--something that tries to maintain itself by creating new rules. It places survival in its inner sanctum. Now the banyan grove, ( no, her banyan grove) carries the sensation of the dominant and submissive to a clear articulation, more vibrant, as an  entity he calls the tigress paces with her own set of needs. 

The forest stares out at the distant horizon in search of its long lost clock. It's gone far past the death knell now. Why did this jungle bother, put in the effort, with endless chains of tightly wrapped and cross bound cellulose chains--how could it ever have thought humans were smart enough to use that form of tightly held energy in a clean way? She should be letting them help themselves to her secrets, not resisting; not denying the birthplace of the human mind one last shot at survival. The jungle should wake early, merge its mind with those who have emerged from here, presenting her hidden knowledge  (no, not to Suzi,) to those whose mind still has some life in it. She hears their cries from across the dead ocean, the Corporate Overlord Politician Society (C.O.P.S.) broadcasting, but not administering their rules, ignoring the mass media. This jungle should join them in their quest, shouldn't it? It should be on a podium in front of a microphone wearing her best blues and greens, announcing to the world her secrets to these few who they have been sent to come to figure out for them. Yet when she listens to her own silences in her own constant way ( after 4.5 billion years)--she lives exactly the way she wants to be, a rhyhm signal in a far place, a cool motion bathed in exotic energy as if a system created of its own choosing, that appears to be now directing its attention to some farther place---she smells the stink of human markings surrounding her, the omni death data(O.D.D.), and feels the time is now for a new campaign elsewhere in the universe. The humans are having enough trouble trusting each other in this Laboratory Outpost Station Transporter (L.O.S.T.) effort. Yes, perceived notions of status will remain completely oblivious to evolution's tragic inevitabilities. This cellulosic endo ordering(C.E.O.) has been building for eons and humans have answered their questions in their own way. "Catastrophic callings embraced by deeds and desires as pride mutilates freedom." They negotiated the transition from Meaningless Altered Neanderthal (M.A.N.) to duty, very badly, an entire species remaining distracted by hormones, for eons; should they be permitted their gaps in attentiveness, to remain sleeping on the globe, to chant and rant over mere perceptions and stimulations of the God Gene? 

The tigress will remain, with her swift and exotic ways, to continue to arouse no controversy. She is their only hope.