“The Future of Nature” is an Earth Day community writing project for fiction writers to explore the human-nature relationship in a short story or poem. It was organized by @Claudia Befu and @Julie Gabrielli, and supported with brilliant advice from scientists Jonathan Tonkin @JDTonkin and Rebecca Hooper @betweentwoseas. The story you’re about to read is from this project. You can find all the stories as a special @TopInFiction Disruption edition, with thanks to publisher @EricaDrayton.
“The future is already here—It’s just not very evenly distributed.” William Gibson
Sofia, the beginning
The infrasonic pulsed calls of a baleen whale, the last remaining member of its pod, or perhaps a new hybrid—travels the distances across the oceans, over and over — but only silence, a vast silence responds.
On a deserted beach, a young human child is staring out across the water. She is perfectly still, whole being intent, listening. She starts to cry, silently. Then slowly she wades into the water and starts swimming towards the horizon. Steadily, stroke by stroke, not saving anything for the return to the disappearing shore. Finally, exhausted, defeated, she closes her eyes.
Across the surface of gentle waves, a pod of curious dolphins appears and circles the child. A dolphin glides under and gently lifts the child onto her back and starts swimming towards shore. The pod circles them, guarding the center, and stops just before the shallows begin – warned by a deep collective memory of mass stranding, so long ago, the dying cries still echoing. The carrier dolphin releases the child and together the pod gently pushes her towards the shore, carried by the waves, like a precious reed basket.
Their dark gray heads above the waves, the pod watches as two adult humans appear on the sand dune ridge. They see the little body curled on the sand and run screaming towards the little girl. One of them cradles the child, crying with hysteria, fear and relief all at once, Sofia, Sofia. The child opens her eyes. The mother moves her hands emphatically and signs Why did you go off by yourself? We have been looking everywhere!
Ma… I was dreaming. But I heard it. It’s far, very far, but it’s so so alone, afraid, alone. Sofia started sobbing silently and could not stop. In the distance, the dolphins disappeared back under the waves. Sofia’s parents held her tightly. They were stunned. This was the first time since her birth 8 years ago that she uttered spoken words, communicating without signing.
**************
Sofia’s birth was difficult—she did not enter the world in the usual way—head-first. No, she was a breech birth, a horizontal positioning that required hours of the mid-wife re-positioning and coaxing her out. When Sofia finally entered the world, she entered quietly, silently. She did not cry at her first gasp of air. In fact, she did not speak for years, until that incident. On the day of her birth, a hurricane hit Hong Kong, a Signal No.10 alert (issued only 17 times since 1946). Amidst powerful winds, heavy rains fed rivers coursing down the stone steps, from the higher mid-levels down to Central, the lower neighborhoods, flooding the metro stations and small street stalls.
So, Sofia arrived into a world in motion, a water world of possibility, nothing stable or certain – imprinting on her a life-long love for storms, rainy days, and sudden miracles of the natural world. Despite their deceptive clarity, Sofia also grew to welcome blue skies and sunny days, and the hidden possibilities they carried.
**************
After Sofia’s miraculous rescue by the dolphins, Sofia’s parents kept a vigilant, but not overtly fearful watch over their daughter. Although considered superstitious and ridiculously outdated, they sought a fortune teller to suanming, and produce a bazi (literally eight characters, a reading of the Four Pillars of Destiny) for Sofia. His slender finger moved down the line of Chinese characters. Sofia would live a long, healthy life, but her journey would be marked by key “mountain passes” – moments of life-altering decisions that would change the very landscape of her life and those around her. But these moments of choice were obscured by moving clouds. Sofia’s parents pressed for more details— future dates, nature of those future dangers, steps to safeguard her. But the fortune teller sighed. The universe speaks in metaphors, the signposts can only signal so much, especially for a young life still not yet written.
That’s when Bailey entered Sofia’s life. A five-year old shepherd pittie mix adopted from the overcrowded HKSPCA, Bailey became her loyal companion, guardian, and alert interpreter of threats undetected by human senses. Together, they took long hikes in the wooded areas around the faculty housing on the Hong Kong University campus where the family lived. Together, they went in search of a wild boar family living in the mountains, keeping a respectful distance if they came upon them, careful to not frighten them as they rooted in the ground. Sometimes, they walked down to the harbor to look for the pink dolphins. After the Hong Kong government finally restricted dangerous marine traffic, after citizens got serious about deadly plastic waste, pink dolphins were returning.
Sofia also loved spending long afternoons in the forested areas around the University campus, reading under the trees, or just sitting still, listening in awe. Bailey settled next to her, paws stretched out, eyes closed, perhaps dreaming. Sofia would rest both her palms on the earth, feeling the vibrant network of impulses slowly coursing through the tree roots, alive, connected, wordless.
Turning points, 2041
Sofia woke and opened her eyes to the usual alien world that met her each morning. A soft whiteness surrounded her, warm pressure against her side, a sense of security and happiness. Slowly, she swam up towards a world of words. A white wall. An open window. Bailey sleeping stretched at her side. Sparrows joyfully welcome the sunny morning. A squirrel, fluffy tail curled in a question mark eating his breakfast, a nut. My bedroom. I am… I am Sofia. Time. Today. The day of the Assessor’s visit.
The night before, Sofia’s parents had been uncharacteristically quiet, but extremely attentive. They made her favorite vegetarian dumplings and did not disapprove when she slipped a handful, then another, to Bailey lying at her feet under the table. A very happy Bailey. Together with her parents, Sofia had reviewed the letter and literature from the ICB, the newly formed Interspecies Communication Bridge. Based at the Hague, the ICB was a research and training facility, affiliated with a controversial initiative to develop a future Planetary Court of Justice. A key priority in the initial stage was identifying young people who had exhibited extraordinary innate capacities for connecting with non-human animals and the natural environment. Sofia was the 108th child identified by the ICB.
But Sofia’s parents had made it clear they would not consent to their daughter being the object/subject of any human research or laboratory experiments. The ICB team reassured them. The young people would be full team members in the design and development of the ICB Initiative. Feeling the stones to cross the river. Together. It would be a long-term process, taking generations. A select expert team was being assembled, including linguists, evolutionary biologists, habitat designers, international lawyers, AI and nano-technology researchers, all working together.
And there was no pressure for Sofia to make any decisions now. Afterall, she had only just turned 13.
*********
The Assessor entered Sofia’s room, smiled and said “Hello Sofia, my name is Alma, with the ICB Field Team. May I sit down?” Sofia nodded and watched her settle and take out a small silver tablet. Wearing a casual black sweater and flowing black pants, Alma was very elegant, with short platinum hair, unevenly cut and jagged. Perhaps she cut it herself. “Is this Bailey? May I pet him?” Bailey wagged his tail and Sofia nodded again, then watched her gently pet Bailey. Alma was like an alert attentive raven. Unlike many adults, Alma did not rush to fill silence with words. Sofia liked that. Silence left space for listening and watching.
“What happens if I decide to go to the ICB? Can Bailey come?”
Petting Bailey, Alma smiled again. “Yes, of course. But if you decide to join us, you will continue your life as it is now, but you will also work with ICB mentors. You will also start joining workshops with the other children. These will be coordinated with the Justice team now working on the foundational legal architecture for the Planetary Court. We are really still designing the training framework for the communication and interpretation streams. Alot to discuss, we have time, but progress is also urgent. What do you think?”
Other children like her. The image invoked an alien world like ones that Sofia woke to each morning, but no words surfaced.
“Everything will be so new,” Sofia slowly responded. But she was also still carrying the desolate song of that lone whale. “We have to remember. Everything.” Although she did not know if Alma could understand, her gentle hand movements also signed heart, deep sadness, so much death, the grief that remains. What would justice mean? Was it even possible?
The Hague, 2046
The summer before, Sofia had to say goodbye to Bailey, her best friend, her beloved childhood protector, the one who understood her silences. As Bailey reached his 16th year, his old body failing, he was letting her know, I’m tired and in pain. They both knew it was time, but still it was hard. Sofia buried the small wooden box with Bailey’s ashes under their favorite tree. Sitting alone, feeling the gentle whispers of the breeze, palms on the ground, she felt the network of tree roots receiving him.
*******
Sofia stood at the entrance of the large domed ICB facility in the Hague. Her parents held tightly onto her, knowing it was time to let go, but still it was hard.
There was a gentle breath as the curved glass doors slid open and folded. Welcome Sofia108 said a disembodied warm human voice.
Sofia looked back at her parents, then up at the carved wooden plaque above the entrance – “To interpret is to become”— and stepped in.
Amidst the noise of the world, the greatest gift we give each other is our full attention. As always, my gratitude to my wonderful subscribers and readers for their support! You are now reading TalkingCat88 from across 27 U.S. states and 27 countries.
@Victoria Nordgren Thank you for reading and restacking🙏♥️
What a wonderful story. Reads like an excerpt from a novel-in-the-making. Can't wait for Part 2!