In the dark of the night, in the twenty-fifth year of the colonization of Iuama, Father Seph Fidi led a disgruntled contingent of citizens away from Lakal. Convinced that Sagra Kalam, Opmo II, Alexander Rechat, and the rest were usurping power from the people of Lakal and the newer cities of Tolograd and Barker's Hallow, Seph Fidi began making speeches to anyone who would listen.  Tall, gaunt, and charismatic orator, people listened. 

     “Yes, now our life spans seem indefinite! Yes, our sex lives seem better. But already we are fouling our air and water. Self-appointed leaders are demanding subservience. Is this why we came to this world? To be ruled? Who are these would-be queens and kings? Why do we follow them? This world is wide, wonderful, and unexplored.  Already, groups have moved to the Delta. The Joeng – like the gypsies of old – travel where and when they want. I want to determine my own fate.  If you do too, then follow me to a new life.” 

      It wasn't difficult to find people with time on their hands and a sense of disassociation with their new world, and the people in it. Glib, Father Fidi had little trouble convincing the lost, he had answers and their current leaders did not. Every new convert was encouraged to find others disappointed with; or on the fringes of Iuaman society. Father Fidi offered a sense of purpose, belonging, safety, and security. After verbal threats from Lakal's hierarchy and one painful night of physical abuse by Rechat and two of his Blues, Father Fidi gained martyr status among his followers, which only made him more determined to found his own place on this new world.  

     Seventy-three adults, nine Teeners, and sixteen Unders followed Father Fidi and Mother Gela – the first of his many wives – out of Lakal, away from Sagra and the Council of Equals. They trekked east through the thickest part of the tropical rainforest, forded rivers, and then across the middle plains to the edge of the Great Eastern Desert. 

     Puzzlement reigned when after nineteen turns of grueling travel, Father Fidi waded across a wide, nameless stream to a large island and declared this would be their new home. Disappointment prevailed until the third turn when doubters began to realize the river and the desert held multiple miracles. 

     Their river was bountiful with fish and several species of small, delectable crustaceans they immediately called clingers. A tenacious barnacle-like creature that clung to the underbelly of most rocks and boulders, where the water ran rapidly. And while they were difficult to disengage, they proved well worth the effort. The most important attribute of the river was its pure water. The dullest palate could taste the difference.

     It was a group of Unders who discovered the abundant amount of stoneware clay a few feet offshore. It took the ingenuity of Brother Mico to build the first kiln capable of 2,400f heat to liquefy the clay and grains of silica sand into liquid glass. It took less than one circle of their sun for the ceramic, knives, plates, cups, and pure Adi Uluu glass were in demand throughout Iuama. 

     Brother Patrick Briw used the liquid glass to create a pendant as the symbol of honor for the heroes of Adi Uluu. A thin glass circle represented Iuama. Inside, two crescent moons – one higher than the other – represented Dawa and Chandra, the moons of Iuama. A small black circle between the two moons represented truth and honesty. 

     The desert came with its own set of miracles. Within a few turns, many noticed that the dry air helped with allergies and infections. Mama Gela, a quasi-physician, expounded on the benefits of sunlight. “Helps your body produce more vitamin D – good for bones, teeth, immune system, mood and depression.”  

      While bricks from Brother Mico's kilns cooled in growing piles, Father Fidi brought several men and women together and planned their city. Though doubt about the location still harbored in the minds of some, the city planners were committed.  Assorted building materials and the pile of bricks grew. Clay plates, mugs, and bowls were created. Ceramic knives, spoons, and forks were added to the inventory.  

      A plan for their new homes, pure water, ample supply of fish, crustaceans, and meat from the rainforest — especially the canopy creatures — were the catalyst for a surge in the growing sense of community. 

      The magic began after an extended rainfall on the night of the forty-third turn. The following morning people woke to a vision. As far as the eye could see, the sand and hard desert soil had burst into bloom.  A kaleidoscope of pastel flowers carpeted the terrain. Hibernating creatures and pollinators appeared where none had existed before. The magic continued when on the ninety-seventh turn it was confirmed that, for some inexplicable reason, the desert was receding. Offering the new occupants more irrigable land for crops and a new source of fine sand for glass and pottery.

     Father Fidi declared a holiday on the one-hundredth turn. Three new births were celebrated. Kiln builders and city planners were congratulated. Two of Brother Briw's new pendants were rewarded to twins Vasi and Vasa who – on their own initiative –  followed the river into the desert, and returned five hours later with the revelation it only continued three-plus miles through arid land and dunes, before disappearing into a sinkhole that almost cost them their lives. 

     Music, dancing, drinking, and laughter followed for the rest of the day. As Dawa and Chandra rose in the night sky, Father Fidi stood on the second floor of an unfinished adobe building and spoke to his followers. 

     “Look about you. . .” Father Fidi pointed to the multitude of new homes and buildings in various stages of construction. “Something more powerful than any of us has sent us to this place.  Something has given us the food we eat, and the water we drink.  Something has spared us from the dictates of Sagra Kalam and his lackeys.  We have been given a miracle. . . No miracles. I suggest we call this place Adi Uluu, which, translated from the desert world Laender, means . . .” Father Fidi's voice rose a notch, “The Gift!” He waited, while below him, people bantered the name about.  “All in favor say agreed.”

     “AGREED!” Came from every mouth. 

     “I know some of you originally had doubts . . . Questions. . . Why I did I choose this island to begin our new life.” There were a few embarrassed nods of affirmation. Father Fidi continued with a broad smile.  “I want you to know . . .  I did not choose this location. . . I did not know our island, or this river existed. How could I?” Nods of agreement came from the crowd.  “On the last night of our trek across the middle plains, I had a vision. I saw this island . . . but more vivid was our river. Its water rippled like strings of gems. I could see to the bottom of its deepest parts. I heard the water gurgle as it passed over rocks and boulders.  I saw fish. Lots of fish.  Some, of whom, seemed to be smiling. . .” Father Fidi clasped his hands behind his back and took several steps along the second floor of the building.  “When we arrived, I knew some of you had doubt. . . But . . . I had none.”

    Several people in the crowd started to cheer. Father Fidi held out the palm of one hand. “I suggest we again use the language of the desert world, Laender – and since there no longer appears to be any doubt – let us call our river Quel La. A second time, Father Fidi's voice rose, “OUR ANSWER! All in favor say agreed.”        

     The response was a thunderous “AGREED! AGREED! AGREED!”

     As the voices faded, Father Fidi pointed to the sky and bowed his head, and in a voice just audible to the nearest members of the assemblage, he whispered, “Thank you.” His words and movements were contagious. Heads bowed like an ocean wave.  'Thank you's' continued until Dawa completed its path across the face of its companion moon Chandra.  

#

     One hundred and thirty-two years later, Father Fidi sat on the balcony of the top floor of the same adobe building, folding and unfolding a gazbag message from Sagra Kalam. Living on the edge of the Great Desert had had a transforming effect on most of the citizens of Adi Uluu.  The first and second gen especially, and Father Fidi, completely.  

     By choice, he was no longer the leader. He no longer spoke in absolutes. His gaunt features had given way to full cheeks and desert bronze. Good food, hard labor, and an unbridled pride in the citizens and city of Adi Uluu had quelled his ego and replaced it with paternal love. Father Fidi had earned his moniker. 

     “This message is disturbing,” Father Fidi confided to a small entourage of confidants. Each proudly wore the pendant created a century before by Brother Briw, who sat directly across from Father Fidi.   

     “And so are these.” Mother Gela held up two sheets of pressed Tineke paper. “I was sent two gazbags. One from Barker Hallow – though not from the Administrator, which is odd – but rather the 

Third Council, Loba Stro. The other is from Administrator Sebastian Ahiti of Barker Hallow. It seems they —–”

     “If I may interrupt.” Adrian Boni raised her hand. 

     “Please do,” Mother Gela nodded. 

     “I served with Ahiti on the World Seeker; the man is a sneak and a cheat.” Boni looked around the table and took a long deep breath. Fourth wife of Father Fidi, she'd learned quickly to add a touch of drama to her spoken words. “One thing has always puzzled me. . .With all the good men and women on the World Seeker. . . How, on this new world . . . Did we end up with the likes of Ahiti, Rechat, and Sagra as our leaders? We all came here with such dreams and ended up with demigods.” Boni looked across the table and grinned at Father Fidi. “With you, my dear pairing, twice removed . . . being the exception.”

     Father Fidi accepted the compliment with a broad smile and nodded for Mother Gela to continue. “The only time we ever hear from Tolograd or Barker Hallow is when they want something. . . This time, they are not asking for our porcelain or pottery; they're asking for an extraordinary amount of ceramic knives, arrow, and spearheads.”

     “And the Council of Equals is asking . . . almost demanding the same.” Father Fidi drew out a second piece of paper. Here they're saying: we're being invaded. To be on watch for a space shuttle. . .” 

Father Fidi looked around the table and was greeted with shrugs. 

     “That flash in the sky five turns ago did have the signature of a starship. . .” Second Gen.  Third Son of Briw, began.  “But. . . That would have been a starship leaving, not invading.”

     “Well, what do we want to do?” Father Fidi stood and walked to the balcony, put both hands on the railing, and admired his city. The thoughts were blades of anguish. The tears came without warning. When will the madness stop?

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