The world evolved and changed. Global warming sent the north southward and the shoreline dwellers inward. Space exploration allowed the wealthy to seek new frontiers away from the density of population in the heartlands of the continents. Thermal resistant clothing brought equality to residents of all countries as survival mode became the only topic of discussion.
Hirahni remembered her grandmother's stories of the traditions lost, of the wars raged both in opposition and in support of initiatives that took color from the planet.
“There were, until the end, groups who would gather on beaches,” the old woman had reminisced. “Bright umbrellas, multi-colored clothing either covering or revealing, daring the sun. We worried less about the sun than about the temperature of the sand beneath our feet.”
Hirahni had always asked, “But what happened, Cushoni?”
Cushoni only shook her head. “Great men with great minds tried to prove they were greater than each other, and each new law took away a tradition. We watched cities slide away and islands sink, countries dry up, while they battled in great buildings over jurisdiction and methods.”
What earth was not covered by water or people was now covered in technology. Windmills, solar panels, misting systems, and massive government run computers guarded by armies night and day to keep it all running.
Hirahni watched people, under the pretense of happiness, try to build new traditions. Races were held in a leading country every year. New technology appeared in each race to lengthen energy usage, reduce waste. No one cheered. People just waited for the results, knowing a new machine would appear, the winning entry reproduced in various forms and scattered through the worlds in an effort to shield everyone from nature's progress.
A few clothing manufacturers made a mark by introducing fad clothing. Full body covering, including all facial features was the latest. Those who wore it looked like silver ants, an extinct species reborn in a new color scheme. Everything was reflectively silver, disappearing into the haze that no law or innovation had been able to slow.
Hirahni could no longer pretend there was hope or happiness on the earth or in the few colonies in space. Survival was the only passion left.
The first signs were welded to the bottoms of the borderland warnings. Those who ventured to the edges of what passed as civilization would read:
“No passage beyond this point. Land in danger of reclamation. Visible by camera.”
And below, in rainbow colors:
“We did it. We lost it. We can still think. Let's fix it.”
The next signs were scattered among the windmills. The colors were meant to shine through the haze of pollution and to withstand acid rain by becoming brighter.
“Who is in charge? The myth of Mother Nature or the reality of intelligence?”
By the time the second signs appeared, governments had received such a backlash by trying to remove the first that more and more signs stayed in place. Governments huddled, trying to remember the last time people had stood against them.
When the Consolidated Global Intensity Federation issued a statement about the signs saying that splinter groups opposing any and all survival positions would be dealt with to the full extent of the law, Hirahni laughed. The full extent of the law provided no worse punishments than daily life. It was an empty threat.
She painted her nails blood red. People shied away from her when she moved among them. Their clothing hid their faces so she didn't know whether it was in revulsion or fear. She persisted, adding color to her clothing by sneaking into the borderlands and retrieving plants long lost to the heartlands to use as dye.
Coshoni, now relegated to the one of the Elder Towers, nodded, waiting. She could no longer move without the mechanics they supplied, but she could hear and feel. Attendants spoke now, not of nitrogen lines to supply hydraulics, but of days when they too had owned objects of color. A change would come. A better change than the ones that had come before. Coshoni hoped that Hirahni was taking heed and approving of this movement.
Hirahni continued her quiet rebellion. She began to strip herself of the protective sheaths. She had already removed her gloves and boots, now she cut the sleeves of her reflective suits, revealing fragile snow white skin.
Crowds followed her, some waiting to see the effect the earth would have on Hirahni, some secretly avid for Hirahni's effect on the earth.
Hirahni made what Coshoni called an umbrella, using the strips of fabric she cut from her suits. She used the plant dyes to color paper, pressing the strips between heavy furniture. They brought life to the umbrella, and life to Hirahni.
