Forever

by Robert J. Sawyer

    First published in the anthology Return of the Dinosaurs, edited by Mike 
    Resnick and Martin H. Greenberg (DAW, July 1997). 

    Honorable Mention, Gardner Dozois's Year's Best Science Fiction, Fifteenth 
    Annual Edition 

    Everything we know about dinosaurs comes from a skewed sample: the only 
    specimens we have are of animals who happened to die at locations in which 
    fossilization could occur; for instance, we have no fossils at all from 
    areas that were mountainous during the Mesozoic. 
    Also, for us to find dinosaur fossils, the Mesozoic rocks have to be 
    re-exposed in the present day -- assuming, of course, that the rocks still 
    exist; some have been completely destroyed through subduction beneath the 
    Earth's crust. 
    From any specific point in time -- such as what we believe to be the final 
    million years of the age of dinosaurs -- we have at most only a few hundred 
    square miles of exposed rock to work with. It's entirely possible that forms 
    of dinosaurs wildly different from those we're familiar with did exist, and 
    it's also quite reasonable to suppose that some of these forms persisted for 
    many millions of years after the end of the Cretaceous. 
    But, of course, we'll never know for sure. 
    -- Jacob Coin, Ph.D.
    Keynote Address,
    A.D. 2018 Annual Meeting of the
    Society of Vertebrate Paleontology

            Five planets could be seen with the naked eye: Sunhugger, Silver, 
Red, High, and Slow; all five had been known since ancient times. In the two 
hundred years since the invention of the telescope, much had been discovered 
about them. Tiny Sunhugger and bright Silver went through phases, just like the 
moon did; Red had visible surface features, although exactly what they were was 
still open to considerable debate. High was banded, and had its own coterie of 
at least four moons, and Slow -- Slow was the most beautiful of all, with a thin 
ring orbiting around its equator. 
            Almost a hundred years ago, Ixoor the Scaly had discovered a sixth 
planet -- one that moved around the Sun at a more indolent pace than even Slow 
did; Slow took twenty-nine years to make an orbit, but Ixoor's World took an 
astonishing eighty-four. 
            Ixoor's World -- yes, she had named it after herself, assuring her 
immortality. And ever since that discovery, the search had been on for more 
planets. 
            Cholo, an astronomer who lived in the capital city of Beskaltek, 
thought he'd found a new planet himself, about ten years ago. He'd been looking 
precisely where Raymer's law predicted an as-yet-undiscovered planet should 
exist, between the orbits of Red and High. But it soon became apparent that what 
Cholo had found was nothing more than a giant rock, an orbiting island. Others 
soon found additional rocks in approximately the same orbit. That made Cholo 
more determined than ever to continue scanning the heavens each night; he'd 
rather let a meatscooper swallow him whole than have his only claim to fame be 
the discovery of a boulder in space ... 
            He searched and searched and searched, hoping to discover a seventh 
planet. And, one night, he did find something previously uncatalogued in the 
sky. His tail bounced up and down in delight, and he found himself hissing 
"Cholo's world" softly over and over again -- it had a glorious sound to it. 
            But, as he continued to plot the object's orbit over many months, 
making notes with a claw dipped in ink by the light of a lamp burning 
sea-serpent oil, it became clear that it wasn't another planet at all. 
            Still, he had surely found his claim to immortality. 
            Assuming, of course, that anyone would be left alive after the 
impact to remember his name. 

            "You're saying this flying mountain will hit the Earth?" said Queen 
Kava, looking down her long green-and-yellow muzzle at Cholo. 
            The Queen's office had a huge window overlooking the courtyard. 
Cholo's gaze was momentarily distracted by the sight of a large, furry winger 
gliding by. He turned back to the queen. "I'm not completely thirty-six 
thirty-sixths certain, Your Highness," he said. "But, yes, I'd say it's highly 
likely." 
            Kava's tail, which, like all Shizoo tails, stuck straight out behind 
her horizontally held body, was resting on an intricately carved wooden mount. 
Her chest, meanwhile, was supported from beneath by a padded cradle. "And what 
will happen to the Earth when this giant rock hits us?" 
            Cholo was standing freely; no one was allowed to sit in the presence 
of the Queen. He tilted his torso backward from the hips, letting the tip of his 
stiff tail briefly touch the polished wooden floor of the throne room. 
"Doubtless Your Highness has seen sketches of the moon's surface, as observed 
through telescopes. We believe those craters were made by the impacts of similar 
minor planets, long ago." 
            "What if your flying rock hits one of our cities?" 
            "The city would be completely destroyed, of course," said Cholo. 
"Fortunately, Shizoo civilization only covers a tiny part of the globe. Anyway, 
odds are that it will impact the ocean. But if it does hit on land, the chances 
are minuscule that it will be in an inhabited area." 
            The Shizoo lived on an archipelago of equatorial islands. Although 
many kinds of small animals existed on the islands, the greatest beasts -- wild 
shieldhorns, meatscoopers, the larger types of shovelbills -- were not found 
here. Whenever the Shizoo had tried to establish a colony on the mainland, 
disaster ensued. Even those who had never ventured from the islands knew of the 
damage a lone meatscooper or a marauding pack of terrorclaws could inflict. 
            A nictitating membrane passed in front of Kava's golden eyes. "Then 
we have nothing to worry about," she said. 
            "If it hits the land," replied Cholo, "yes, we are probably safe. 
But if it hits the ocean, the waves it kicks up may overwhelm our islands. We 
have to be prepared for that." 
            Queen Kava's jaw dropped in astonishment, revealing her curved, 
serrated teeth. 

            Cholo predicted they had many months before the flying mountain 
would crash into the Earth. During that time, the Shizoo built embankments along 
the perimeters of their islands. Stones had to be imported from the mainland -- 
Shizoo usually built with wood, but something stronger would be needed to 
withstand the waves. 
            There was much resistance at first. The tiny dot, visible only in a 
telescope, seemed so insignificant. How could it pose a threat to the proud and 
ancient Shizoo race? 
            But the dot grew. Eventually, it became visible with the naked eye. 
It swelled in size, night after night. On the last night it was seen, it had 
grown to rival the apparent diameter of the moon. 

            Cholo had no way to know for sure when the impact would occur. 
Indeed, he harbored a faint hope that the asteroid would disintegrate and 
vaporize in the atmosphere -- he was sure that friction with the air was what 
caused shooting stars to streak across the firmament. But, of course, Cholo's 
rock was too big for that. 
            The sound of the asteroid's impact was heard early in the morning -- 
a great thunderclap, off in the distance. But Cholo knew sound took time to 
travel -- it would take three-quarters of a day for a sound to travel halfway 
around the world. 
            Most of the adult population had stayed up, unable to sleep. When 
the sound did come, some of the Shizoo hissed in contempt. A big noise; that was 
all. Hardly anything to worry about. Cholo had panicked everyone for no good 
reason; perhaps his tail should be cut off in punishment ... 
            But within a few days, Cholo was vindicated -- in the worst possible 
way. 
            The storms came first -- great gale-force winds that knocked down 
trees and blew apart huts. Cholo had been outdoors when the first high winds 
hit; he saw wingers crumple in the sky, and barely made it to shelter himself, 
entering a strongly built wooden shop. 
            A domesticated shieldhorn had been wandering down the same dirt road 
Cholo had been on; it dug in its four feet, and tipped its head back so that its 
neck shield wouldn't catch the wind. But five of its babies had been following 
along behind it, and Cholo saw them go flying into the air like so many leaves. 
The shieldhorn opened her mouth and was doubtless bellowing her outrage, but not 
even the cry of a great crested shovelbill would have been audible over the roar 
of this storm. 
            The wind was followed by giant waves, which barreled in toward the 
Shizoo islands; just as Cholo had feared, the asteroid had apparently hit the 
ocean. 
            The waves hammered the islands. On Elbar, the embankments gave way, 
and most of the population was swept out to sea. Much damage was done to the 
other islands, too, but -- thank the Eggmother! -- overall, casualties were 
surprisingly light. 
            It was half a month before the seas returned to normal; it was even 
longer before the heavens completely cleared. The sunsets were spectacular, 
stained red as though a giant meatscooper had ripped open the bowl of the sky. 

            "You have done the Shizoo people a great service," said Queen Kava. 
"Without your warning, we would all be dead." The monarch was wearing a golden 
necklace; it was the only adornment on her yellowish-gray hide. "I wish to 
reward you." 
            Cholo, whose own hide was solid gray, tilted his head backward, 
exposing the underside of his neck in supplication. "Your thanks is reward 
enough." He paused, then lowered his head. "However ..." 
            Kava clicked the claws on her left hand against those on her right. 
"Yes?" 
            "I wish to go in search of the impact site." 
            The waves had come from the west. Dekalt -- the continent the Shizoo 
referred to as "the mainland" -- was to the east. There was a land mass to the 
west, as well, but it was more than five times as far away. Shizoo boats had 
sailed there from time to time; fewer than half ever returned. There was no 
telling how far away the impact site was, or if there would be anything to see; 
the crater might be completely submerged, but Cholo hoped its rim might stick up 
above the waves. 
            Queen Kava flexed her claws in surprise. "We are recovering from the 
worst natural disaster in our history, Cholo. I need every able body here, and 
every ship for making supply runs to the mainland." She fell silent, then: "But 
if this is what you want ..." 
            "It is." 
            Kava let air out in a protracted hiss. "It's not really a suitable 
reward. Yes, you may have the use of a ship; I won't deny you that. But while on 
your voyage, think of what you really want -- something lasting, something of 
value." 
            "Thank you, Your Highness," said Cholo. "Thank you." 
            Kava disengaged her tail from the wooden mount, stepped away from 
her chest cradle, and walked over to the astronomer, placing the back of a hand, 
her claws bent up and away, gently on his shoulder. "Travel safely, Cholo." 

            They sailed for almost two months without finding any sign of the 
impact site. Cholo had tried to determine the correct heading based on the 
apparent direction from which the huge waves had come, plus his knowledge of the 
asteroid's path through the sky, but either he had miscalculated, or the ocean 
really had covered over all evidence of the impact. Still, they had come this 
far; he figured they might as well push on to the western continent. 
            The ship deployed its anchor about thirty-six bodylengths from the 
shore, and Cholo and two others rowed in aboard a small boat. The beach was 
covered with debris obviously washed in by giant waves -- mountains of seaweed, 
millions of shells, coral, driftwood, several dead sea serpents, and more. Cholo 
had a hard time walking over all the material; he almost lost his balance 
several times. 
            The scouting party continued on, past the beach. The forest was 
charred and blackened -- a huge fire had raged through here recently, leaving 
burnt-out trunks and a thick layer of ash underfoot. The asteroid would have 
heated up enormously coming through the atmosphere; even if it did hit the 
ocean, the air temperature might well have risen enough to set vegetation 
ablaze. Still, there were already signs of recovery: in a few places, new shoots 
were poking up through the ash. 
            Cholo and his team hiked for thousands of bodylengths. The crew had 
been looking forward to being on solid ground again, but there was no joy in 
their footsteps, no jaunty bouncing of tails; this burned-out landscape was 
oppressive. 
            Finally, they came to a river; its waters had apparently held back 
the expanding fire. On the opposite side, Cholo could see trees and fields of 
flowers. He looked at Garsk, the captain of the sailing ship. Garsk bobbed from 
her hips in agreement. The river was wide, but not raging. Cholo, Garsk, and 
three others entered its waters, their tails undulating from side to side, their 
legs and arms paddling until they reached the opposite shore. 
            As Cholo clambered up the river's far bank and out onto dry land, he 
startled a small animal that had been lurking in the underbrush. 
            It was a tiny mammal, a disgusting ball of fur. 
            Cholo had grown sick of sea serpent and fish on the long voyage; he 
was hoping to find something worth killing, something worth eating. 
            After about a twelfth of a day spent exploring, Cholo came across a 
giant shieldhorn skull protruding from the ground. At first he thought it was a 
victim of the recent catastrophe, but closer examination revealed the skull was 
ancient -- hundreds, if not thousands, of years old. Shizoo legend said that 
long ago great herds of shieldhorns had roamed this continent, their footfalls 
like thunder, their facial spears glaring in the sunlight, but no one in living 
memory had seen such a herd; the numbers had long been diminishing. 
            Cholo and Garsk continued to search. 
            They saw small mammals. 
            They saw birds. 
            But nowhere did they see any greater beasts. At least, none that 
were still alive. 
            At one point, Cholo discovered the body of a meatscooper. From its 
warty snout to the tip of its tail, it measured more than four times as long as 
Cholo himself. When he approached the body, birds lifted into the air from it, 
and clouds of insects briefly dispersed. The stench of rotting meat was 
overpowering; the giant had been dead for a month or more. And yet there were 
hundreds of stoneweights worth of flesh still on the bones. If there had been 
any mid-sized scavengers left alive in the area, they would have long since 
picked the skeleton clean. 
            "So much death," said Garsk, her voice full of sadness. 
            Cholo bobbed in agreement, contemplating his own mortality. 

            Months later, Cholo at last returned to Queen Kava's chambers. 
            "And you found no great beasts at all?" said the Queen. 
            "None." 
            "But there are lots of them left on the mainland," said Kava. "While 
you were away, countless trips were made there to find wood and supplies to 
repair our cities." 
            "'Lots' is a relative term, Your Highness. If the legends are to 
believed -- not to mention the fossil record -- great beasts of all types were 
much more plentiful long ago. Their numbers have been thinning for some time. 
Perhaps, on the eastern continent, the aftermath of the asteroid was the gizzard 
stone that burst the thunderbeast's belly, finishing them off." 
            "Even the great may fall," said the Queen. 
            Cholo was quiet for a time, his own nictitating membranes dancing up 
and down. Finally, he spoke: "Queen Kava, before I left, you promised me another 
reward -- whatever I wanted -- for saving the Shizoo people." 
            "I did, yes." 
            "Well, I've decided what I'd like ..." 

            The unveiling took place at noon six months later, in the large 
square outside the palace. The artist was Jozaza -- the same Jozaza who had 
assured her own immortality through her stunning frieze on the palace wall 
depicting the Eggmother's six hunts. 
            Only a small crowd gathered for the ceremony, but that didn't bother 
Cholo. This wasn't for today -- it was for the ages. It was for immortality. 
            Queen Kava herself made a short speech -- there were many reasons 
why Kava was popular, and her brevity was certainly one of them. Then Jozaza 
came forward. As she turned around to face the audience, her tail swept through 
a wide arc. She made a much longer speech; Cholo was growing restless, hopping 
from foot to foot. 
            Finally the moment came. Jozaza bobbed her torso at four of her 
assistants. They each took hold of part of the giant leather sheet, and, on the 
count of three, they pulled it aside, revealing the statue. 
            It was made of white marble veined with gold that glistened in the 
sunlight. The statue was almost five times life size, rivaling the biggest 
meatscooper's length. The resemblance to Cholo was uncanny -- it was him down to 
the very life; no one could mistake it for anyone else. Still, to assure that 
the statue fulfilled its purpose for generations to come, Cholo's name was 
carved into its base, along with a description of what he'd done for the Shizoo 
people. 
            Cholo stared up at the giant sculpture; the white stone was almost 
painfully bright in the glare of the sun. 
            A statue in his honor -- a statue bigger than any other anywhere in 
the world. His nictitating membranes danced up and down. 
            He would be remembered. Not just now, not just tomorrow. He would be 
remembered for all time. A million years from now -- nay, a hundred million 
hence, the Shizoo people would still know his name, still recall his deeds. 
            He would be remembered forever.            

THE END