CHAPTER 2: part 7 of 8; back to Ziganths (Zig)

back to the BEGINNING

ZIGANTHS (Zig)

They were passing over Washington D. C. tonight.  Since that July 1952, long ago, they’d had free reign in the skies over D. C.  As long as they followed a very few guidelines, they would be allowed to fly with no questions asked. The only time they could collect individuals without raising suspicion was on nights of no moon.  Washington D. C. was their most successful collection location because of the combination of individuals and energy.  New York City was the best for energy collection.  As a result of the destruction of the twin towers back in 2001, they’d been able to build an energy generator and collector right into the land that was cleared by that destruction.  It was a tremendous score for Zig’s race, but yet another point of dissatisfaction and malcontentment for him with his people.

He clearly saw that they only perpetuated what any other race he'd ever learned about termed as evil.  Yet they, the Annunaki, declared that it was necessary for their survival.  They described what they needed to feed their physical and energetic systems as "good" because it perpetuated their race.  Zig wondered if it could be good at all if it caused only unkindness, pain, fear and negativity in all other sentient life forms.  He felt strongly that it could not actually be good and was, in fact, the evil acknowledged by other races.  Yet even in this awareness, he didn’t know how to do anything about it.  He wanted his people to change, but he didn't know how to make those changes happen.

“Zig, what are you doing?”

So deep in contemplation of the conundrum of his existence, Ziganths didn’t respond because he simply hadn’t heard the voice address him.

“Ziganths!  What are you doing?!?”

“Oh!  I didn’t realize you were there.  Please forgive me, Zidelths.  I was just considering....”

“What were you considering?”  Zidelths’s voice sounded far slipperier than he remembered.

“The problem of my thoughts.”

“Oh.  Zig, were you thinking about the wrong we do?”

“Yes.  How did you know?”

“Because I find myself staring down at the land we pass, wondering about the humans we torture and thinking thoughts that are probably pretty similar to yours.”

“Well, Zidelths, have you drawn any conclusions or come to any resolutions?”

“No.  No, not yet.  But I hope that I may, some day.”

“Hope.  That’s one of those silly ideas the humans speak on…  One of the silly wonderful ideas that makes me wish we were more like them!”

“Yes.  And I with you.”

“Zidelths, I wish we were not from different floors.  We could be great friends.”

“I think we ARE great friends.”

“Yes, of course.  But… what I mean is… well, it would just be really nice to spend more time with you.”

“But we cannot.  Stolen moments to feel camaraderie are our foreseeable future.  We must reach acceptance to achieve peace.”

“How do you hear their philosophies, Zidelths!?  I’m sure what you just said must be theirs!!”

“Well, it certainly helps to be the daughter of Communications' Agents.  My family line has been in communications for many generations, but they are all workers, nothing outstanding about us.  Because of my parents' work, I was able to learn how to manipulate the listening devices without any suspicion.  They were very happy to teach me what our line has done for as long as we have recorded.  Since I learned the process of using the listening devices, I steal away whenever I’m able to and take over one of the listening rooms that other agents don’t care to work in because there is no one of importance to impress.  I manipulate the directors and listen to what I want to hear.  It’s quite good!”

“Good.  I would like to get to know what is ‘good’.”

“Do you want it enough to break rules, Zig?”

“No.  Maybe I will get to that point, but I’m not there yet.  I’m an outcast in my mind.  I don’t think I’m ready to live as one every day.”

“It will be a difficult transition.  You must wait until you are ready to live your truth.  I must away now.  This interaction is very soon to be overlong to the hall-watchers.  I hope to hear from you soon.  You know where you can find me.”

“Yes.  Perhaps we’ll cross paths again soon.”

“That is to be hoped for, Zig.  I will hope.”

 Zidelths walked quickly away without looking back.  She was a strong female.  It was obvious the communications she was listening to were having an impact on her thoughts.  She was walking swiftly, but seemed to be surrounded by a feeling that was totally foreign to Zig… it must be that peace of which she spoke.  Oh, to have such peace!

 

© 2008-2012 Tori Gollihugh All Rights Reserved

next installment: June 29th, 10am

next part of CHAPTER 1: meet Ziganths

FIRST part of CHAPTER 1
Ziganths [pronounced: zig-ANTH-ssss]

It was just completely wrong.  Being here was just completely wrong.  Why did they have to travel to places like this and just take.  Ziganths just hated himself.  He hated his people.  He just hated his race.  He'd felt like this so long, centuries by human year-counts, but he was still merely a teenager among his people.  He felt miserable knowing he was absolutely powerless among his own.

Zig felt horrible about everything his people, the Annunaki, stood for and everything they did.  He didn't understand why almost all of his people felt it was their right to take anything they needed or desired and give nothing back.  He understood the thought processing that made it right among the majority.  He understood the theory.  He just could not comprehend the ability to believe such things to the extent and in the way most of his people did.  He couldn't believe that his race's mode of operation was a truly acceptable way of being and it certainly was not, so far as he was concerned, living.  It was merely existing.  Worse, even than survival.  To take and give nothing was merely existing.

Zig longed to do more than merely exist.  He yearned to learn from those from whom the Annunaki only took.  He desired to understand their ways.  From his vantage point of centuries of existence, it seemed to him that the minute-long-lives of the humans were fuller and more completely full of LIFE than anything he had yet experienced.

His desires were considered taboo among others of his kind.  He'd only ever found a few others like him.  There was only one other youth in his company who felt similarly.  Zidelths was the closest thing he had to a friend.  But because they were not of the same dwelling floor, they could not spend time together without arousing suspicion.  The others who harbored feelings like his were almost all ancients among his people, so far as he could tell.

Middlepathkeepers were so stuck in the culture.  They were unwilling to consider that there could be good outside of their own ways.  Surely there must be an exception of two even among them, but Zig refused to attempt to converse with any of the Middlepathkeepers about his taboo thoughts and feelings again because of the un-accepting and unbending refusals and rejections his wishes had earned him.  His parents had firmly demanded that he refrain from his unacceptable thought processing which had resulted in a firm reprimand on their permanent record.

He wondered repeatedly why he must feel so differently from the majority.  Why couldn't he just feel like the others?  It would certainly make his life easier.  But... when it came right down to it, he didn't want to feel the same way they did and enjoy doing and existing as he was forced to do and exist currently.  It didn't seem that they were truly better off  for their views, beliefs, and practices than he was in his divergent ways.  Perhaps his lot, being the outsider, was an improvement over belonging to the society of takers he despised.  Yes.  It must be.

So, if he was really okay with himself, as odd as he was among his own kind, what did that mean?  What should he do!?


© 2008-2012 Tori Gollihugh All Rights Reserved

next installment: the June 20th, 10am