Morning all. This week is just ticking right along isn’t it. I kind of like June. It always feels like a bit of a release. The summer schedule kicks in and it is just a little bit less structured than the rest of the year so I feel like I have more time. I know it doesn’t actually change the amount of time I have, but it always feels like it. But more time or not, it is time to start off our prompt of the morning. Timers set for fifteen minutes and off we go.
Oh yea, I am so coming back to this one.
Thursday, June 4th: Judgement was swift and brutal.
Judgement was swift and brutal. The Colony of Farsgate did not tolerate the breaking of the company charter and the only option was banishment. Cargi was allowed to pack his belongings, taking what was his but not what belonged to the colony. Basic supplies were placed in the housing unit erected far outside the settlement walls. They would get him through a season and then he would be on his own.
Cargi suppressed the dark humor. The banishment was due to the founder’s dislike of execution. By banishing those who Farsgate could not abide living within their walls, their hands were kept clean. They did not execute, they separated.
That no exile made it past a second season was simple a consequence of their actions not a death sentence. Cargi packed the last of his things and shouldered his pack. His sentence let those who handed it down feel righteous in their sentencing, but he knew they understood when his supplies ran out he would most likely die. Many of the others exiled in the past did so by their own hand rather than wait for the slow death of starvation.
They were satisfied he would np longer be a problem for them.
Cargi had a few things going for him that previous exiles did not. He wasn’t confident in his survival. He thought that perhaps he could extend the length of time he managed to survive. Since his ideas, designs and as the council put it, ‘Unholy contraptions’ were going with him, Cargi thought he had better odds than anyone exiled before. Many of his creations were sent on with his limited supplies simply because the town leaders wanted them gone even more than they wanted to be free of him.
Thos unholy designs might just mean the difference between life and death.
He meant them for the community, to allow them to do more than survive, to prosper on this harsh planet where their colony was sent. He forgot the one truism. People in power always want to keep power. There were those who controlled the water, the food, the varied resources the community needed. His unholy contraptions would take some of that power away.
They would lose the absolute control they maintained over the population.
Regardless of what was said at his trial, that was why he was being banished. ‘I suppose I will have to use my creations to help myself.’ While depressing, the scientist in him decided to think of the banishment as an extended field test. It helped keep the fear and panic at bay. He was still worried and the worry shone in his eyes as he was walked to the gate, guards to either side. He knew it was spotted by those in charge. He saw wicked smiles on some, relieved expressions on others as he aimed his steps through the gate.
“Lock it down,” he heard the Lord Protector declare and heard the gates swing shut behind him. He was barely through and had to hop-step forward to keep the gate from slapping into him. The world changed outside the gate. Gone was the settled section of the planet. Only the wildness remained. He felt the wind kick up and knew that he needed to get moving if he was to reach his new residence before dark. There were things prowling in the darkness that slept in the day. If he didn’t reach safety by nightfall, he wouldn’t survive until dawn.
Ten til Midnight 