The Meat Tree Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  New Stories from the Mabinogion

  Charles Darwin Quote

  The Meat Tree

  1. Technical Preparation

  2. Approach

  3. Boarding

  4. Entry

  5. Forest

  6. Breeding Season

  7. The Wild

  8. Offspring

  9. Name

  10. Arms

  11. Flower

  12. Wife

  13. The Tree

  The Fourth Branch of the Mabinogion

  Afterword

  Acknowledgements

  Advertisements

  Copyright

  To Eira

  New Stories from the Mabinogion

  Introduction

  Some stories, it seems, just keep on going. Whatever you do to them, the words are still whispered abroad, a whistle in the reeds, a bird’s song in your ear.

  Every culture has its myths; many share ingredients with each other. Stir the pot, retell the tale and you draw out something new, a new flavour, a new meaning maybe. There’s no one right version. Perhaps it’s because myths were a way of describing our place in the world, of putting people and their search for meaning in a bigger picture that they linger in our imagination.

  The eleven stories of the Mabinogion (‘story of youth’) are diverse native Welsh tales taken from two medieval manuscripts. But their roots go back hundreds of years, through written fragments and the unwritten, storytelling tradition. They were first collected under this title, and translated into English, in the nineteenth century.

  The Mabinogion brings us Celtic mythology, Arthurian romance, and a history of the Island of Britain seen through the eyes of medieval Wales – but tells tales that stretch way beyond the boundaries of contemporary Wales, just as the ‘Welsh’ part of this island once did: Welsh was once spoken as far north as Edinburgh. In one tale, the gigantic Bendigeidfran wears the crown of London, and his severed head is buried there, facing France, to protect the land from invaders.

  There is enchantment and shape-shifting, conflict, peacemaking, love, betrayal. A wife conjured out of flowers is punished for unfaithfulness by being turned into an owl, Arthur and his knights chase a magical wild boar and its piglets from Ireland across south Wales to Cornwall, a prince changes places with the king of the underworld for a year…

  Many of these myths are familiar in Wales, and some have filtered through into the wider British tradition, but others are little known beyond the Welsh border. In this series of New Stories from the Mabinogion the old tales are at the heart of the new, to be enjoyed wherever they are read.

  Each author has chosen a story to reinvent and retell for their own reasons and in their own way: creating fresh, contemporary tales that speak to us as much of the world we know now as of times long gone.

  Penny Thomas, series editor

  The structure of every organic being is related, in the most essential yet often hidden manner, to that of all other organic beings, with which it comes into competition for food or residence, or from which it has to escape, or on which it preys.

  Charles Darwin, The Origin of Species

  The Meat Tree

  1

  Technical Preparation

  Synapse Log 28 Jan 2210, 09:00

  Inspector of Wrecks

  Is that working now, I wonder? I hate these thought recorders. They’re good in very confined spaces, where you don’t want to overhear the idiotic things your colleagues say to their families back on Mars, but I think they’re overrated. But, there we are, I’m Old School. The trick is to keep the unconscious out of it as much as possible and pretend that you’re talking to yourself.

  Now, I think it’s settling down. Right. Well, we’re just about approaching the Mars Outer Satellite Orbit. Not seeing too much debris around at the moment, they must have had a clean up fairly recently. Last time I was here, you could hardly move for junk. We’ve glimpsed the ship in the distance, and should arrive later this afternoon.

  The new girl’s feeling sick but won’t admit it. She thinks I don’t know that she threw up in the heads, but you can’t hide any smells in a spacecraft. If Nona doesn’t stop vomiting, I’ll have to make her take the drugs. Her eyes are red already, she’s dehydrated. I can’t have her out of action, we’re too close to the target vessel. Typical, getting lumbered with a student on my last mission.

  Before anything starts happening, I’m going to get my expenses software set up...

  Apprentice

  So Campion’s telling me how he does his mileage first ‘and all else follows’ and I’m about to throw up all over him, but I manage to swallow it. Ironic. My whole life to get into Mars orbit, and now I’m here I feel too awful to take it in.

  I did get to look out of a porthole as we passed close to home. Saw a dust storm in Thaumasia, thousands of miles wide. It looked like miso soup when you stir it up. Made me nauseous all over again. So I stopped looking. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to catch floating vomit in a paper bag.

  We’re not one day in and I’m already tired of hearing about the Department of Wrecks in the Good Old Days. When flotsam came in from as far as the Sculptor galaxy or the Microscopium Void. When he had a full team and they got to work on really interesting cultures. Not like this speck from God knows where, just me and him – the one man in the service who has absolutely no imagination.

  Oh, I think he wants to do an equipment check.

  Joint Thought Channel 28 Jan 2210, 09:02

  Inspector of Wrecks

  This is so that we can talk to each other on the vessel without disturbing any of the artifacts. Sometimes alien communication patterns can be diffused by the human voice, so we’ll keep to Joint Thought mode until we know more about what’s going on.

  Apprentice

  You mean like a mind-meld? God! I didn’t mean to say that.

  Inspector of Wrecks

  The whole trick of this channel is to avoid personal static. Keep it professional.

  Apprentice

  Sorry. Of course.

  Inspector of Wrecks

  It’s a knack. Not a silent version of speaking out loud, but it’s a way of sharing two sets of sense impressions from slightly different angles. It doubles the amount of data we can record. But you’ll have to learn to make a very precise form of running commentary. It’s not your uncensored thoughts, but it’s not formal reporting either. Try doing it on me for a second.

  Apprentice

  He looks much taller than he did on Mars. And skinnier.

  Inspector of Wrecks

  That’s close, but you can do better. It’s a question of what’s appropriate. Give me some sensory data, because that’s often much more valuable than your opinions. We won’t know what we’re seeing, but we need to record the effect it’s having on us. Try again.

  Apprentice

  The smell of his soap makes me sick to my stomach, I can’t get away from it.

  Inspector of Wrecks

  That’s much, much better. Relevant stuff. A little personal, perhaps, but that’s good. We’ll be getting all the objective data from the robots we send in before us.

  Again.

  Apprentice

  His comb-over looks like the tendrils of a plant in zero gravity.

  Inspector of Wrecks

  That’s it, you’re getting it. And don’t worry, you can’t offend me. What I’m looking for is information. Record it, even if it doesn’t seem important at the time. I’m particularly interested in alien emotio-translation technology, we have a lot to learn in that area. This technique is going to be especially important if we have to go into Virtual Reality.

  Apprenticer />
  The sleep of leaves!

  Inspector of Wrecks

  All right! That’s it! That will do for now. Oh, and I’ll change the soap. Didn’t realise it was a problem. You should have said.

  2

  Approach

  Synapse Log 28 Jan 2210, 15:00

  Inspector of Wrecks

  Could never understand why so many people find space travel boring. There’s nothing like the excitement of being out in deep space, watching volcanic plumes rise over Io in Jupiter-shine. Or seeing an asteroid pass like a piece of pumice, or like one of those ancient Henry Moore sculptures, torsos without limbs. Don’t suppose she has the faintest idea who Henry Moore was, she’s far too young. They don’t learn even the basics these days…

  Just off Mars and we’re practically home, I can see my dome near the rippled flats of Argyre Planitia. It was snowing when we passed last time.

  Apprentice

  The way we approach the vessel, slow and steady, I love it. Last time I looked, the target ship was the size of the moon on my fingernail. Now it’s an eye, coming closer, looking at us with curiosity.

  He

  Just my luck. It looks like a fairly primitive mid-Carolingian solar sailing vessel. Two rings of concave photon sails, maybe Mylar and Kapton, a habitat module like the stigma of a flower. In fact, the whole thing looks like a daffodil. Pity. You’ve seen one of these, you’ve seen them all. No chance now of my adding anything spectacular to my life list. It’s a bog-standard rudimentary Earth vessel.

  She

  Been hailing them for hours. The old fart gave me the signals job, but the modem’s tried all the intergalactic space languages and no response.

  We’ve just gone under the shadow of one of the solar arrays. I’ve heard about these old-style ships, but never seen one before. Billions and billions of photons slam into the sail and nudge the vessel backwards. Crude, but effective. If this came from Earth, they might have combined it with that gravity-sling technique they used for a while.

  It’s eerie in the shadow of the heliogyro. Can’t tell if we’re being watched or not. As if the old sight lines have worn a groove in space. Fanciful, I know. It could be centuries since anybody boarded this vessel, but still I can feel the tug of those eyes.

  Campion stood us down till tomorrow morning, so that we’re fresh for the boarding. Gave me his old manual to read, as if I was interested in that antique and didn’t have sub-eyelid protocols to study for my exams. Suppose I’d better look at it so as to humour the old man. After all, we’re going to be within fifteen feet of each other while this trip lasts, so let’s keep it sweet.

  He

  I love this part, getting my equipment prepared, not knowing exactly what we’re going to find on board. You’ve got to be ready for anything. And a little bit scared that you won’t be up to the challenge.

  I just can’t believe that they’re suspending Wreck Inspections by humans and trusting that remote viewing rubbish. You need the human touch in trying to figure out what went wrong on these voyages, especially if they’re alien in origin. A computer programme just won’t get it and we’ll learn nothing from the flotsam that’s coming right to our doorstep. It’s a treasure trove. What a criminal waste.

  Sure, they’re giving the girl some basic wreck training with me, but she’s a technician and just hasn’t got the cultural expertise to know what she’s seeing. She seems nice enough – was even interested in my old manual – but they’re basically flushing the culture of space travel out with the body fluids.

  And what am I going to do in that horrible station on Mars? No, don’t think about that now. Enjoy this voyage while it lasts. Think about dying later.

  She

  I mean, look at this stuff. It’s so old it’s quaint:

  The high frontier represents an evolutionary departure in human culture that requires the merging of art and science, economics and technology, public and private sectors in the pursuit of free enterprise and human enrichment.

  Ra-ra or what! And the headings: ‘Dress and Appearance of Humans and Robots Aloft’, ‘High Offworld Performance’, ‘Crew Prototypes of the Future’, ‘Lunar Industrialisation Possibilities’. And listen to this:

  Initially, the focus should be upon human performance, productivity, crew team morale and management for long-term space living, including stress reduction. Special programmes, some computerised, will be developed to counter­act the negative effects of an isolated, confined environment and lifestyle. Eventually it will extend to the role of other animals who are introduced into space habitats and settlements.

  When he was young they were still carting stock round the universe, as if you couldn’t grow any animal or vegetable tissue you wanted from stem cells. Just think of those early dogs and monkeys in orbit. Barbaric. Better not tell him that, I suppose. So easy to offend a person, especially a dinosaur like him. They get cranky in old age. Perhaps I could say something nice about the ‘Epilogue: Space Light’, which is very poetic.

  And I was hoping that this assignment would be fun.

  3

  Boarding

  Joint Thought Channel 29 Jan 2210, 09:00

  Inspector of Wrecks

  We’re in!

  Apprentice

  Breathe slowly, breathe. Try not to show how frightened you are.

  Inspector of Wrecks

  No disgrace in that. You’d be a fool not to be nervous at this stage. Just concentrate on moving slowly and noticing as much as you can. Now that we’re out of the lock, why don’t you take over?

  Apprentice

  How come he’s breathing so slowly, as if he were taking a stroll in the park?

  Inspector of Wrecks

  Don’t shine it on me. Look around you. Break it down.

  Apprentice

  Our lights are like columns, picking out the desks of a tiny control room. Atmosphere’s dense with motes.

  Inspector of Wrecks

  Now you’re getting the hang of it. What more? Don’t be afraid of being subjective, but don’t clutter the narrative.

  Apprentice

  By the design, the module looks like one of those retro twenty-second-century probes. But it can’t be… there are space-shuttle touches, like the two-way switches they had to move manually before command functions were internalised. Look at this! You had to really mean it to switch this back and forth.

  Inspector of Wrecks

  This isn’t retro. It’s the real thing. Look at these motherboards, they’re huge!

  Apprentice

  That doesn’t make sense. Space technology this primitive could never have reached here from Earth. This thing belongs in a museum. What is that?

  Inspector of Wrecks

  No, it can’t be. I’ve heard old-timers talking about something like this, but I’ve never seen one. I think it’s something called an audio-cassette player. There’s even a tape in it. Early personal entertainment system.

  Apprentice

  You’re kidding, when technology was still outside the body! That’s hilarious.

  Inspector of Wrecks

  See those couches? I bet they’re old VR systems.

  Apprentice

  VR?

  Inspector of Wrecks

  Virtual Reality. Before you swallowed the nano-synaptic dream tablets for training and recreation.

  Apprentice

  Clunky or what!

  Inspector of Wrecks

  This whole ship’s an anachronism, there’s no way it could have survived the journey… and yet the bot says that the atmosphere’s inhabitable. Well, we might as well start finding out.

  Right. Watch me carefully. This is one of the most important moments in any investigation. I’m going to take off my helmet and start breathing the ship’s own atmosphere. We know it’s not going to kill me, but this first intake of breath can tell you a lot, if you know what you’re looking for. Pay attention.

  Apprentice

  So methodical. Gauntlets first, helm
et second. Like taking off his head.

  Inspector of Wrecks

  With the first breath, I can never be sure what I’m taking in. The dust of dead bodies. Toxins. Viruses. The gas from new life forms. One of the things I’m trying to scent is fear, and I often find it.

  Apprentice

  Stands there like a dog smelling food on the wind.

  Inspector of Wrecks

  Shush, I need quiet.

  Apprentice

  Or like a sommelier, tasting the bouquet of a space vessel. Very sophisticated.

  Inspector of Wrecks

  Please! You never get that first impression again, your nose becomes accustomed to the background scent in a couple of minutes. If you chat, it’s wasted.

  Apprentice

  Sorry.

  Inspector of Wrecks

  Now you have a go. Don’t think, but open your brain to the scent molecules on board. What do you get?

  Apprentice

  I don’t know…

  Inspector of Wrecks

  Yes, your body does…

  Apprentice

  Can it be? Flowers?

  Inspector of Wrecks

  What else?

  Apprentice

  Flowers. And meat.

  4

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