Joao sat awkwardly on his chair, ready to jump at any moment. His chair was made of kapok wood, a deep mahogany color, nicely smoothed for long rests watching an Atakalan sunrise. What was odd about it, though, was that it was sloped backwards. It also had no back. It almost looked like it hadn’t been built for sitting on, but for getting off of. Beside Joao was a neatly organized row of tools and in front of him were two newly constructed cabinets. The cabinets were simply built, short and square. One of them was made of a slightly darker wood. Each could have held six plump cabbages.

  Joao relaxed as best he could on the uncomfortable chair, listening to the sounds of the jungle around him as he watched the cabinets. A strange crunching noise somewhere in the rainforest was growing louder and louder. He turned away from the cabinets, peering into the thick jungle, wondering at the sound. He was startled to see the brush part and a strange looking man stumble into the clearing. As he approached, Joao could see that he was wearing an aged outfit of skins, mud covered and decaying. His face and limbs were smeared with dark silt and a string of muddy beads hung limp over his shoulders, torn but still worn like a necklace.

  The man stopped when he saw Joao and looked nervously around the clearing.

  “Who are you?” asked Joao. He'd had customers come a long way to purchase cabinets, but never one who seemed to have emerged from another world, dressed in primitive, decaying garb as one might have worn hundreds of years ago when the nation was first formed.

  The stranger stared blankly and then answered. “I cannot say for certain. I do not even know where I am. What tribe are you?”

  “Confused you are, strange journeyer. How could we be anywhere but in the great and prosperous land of Atakala? Our tribes are less important in these modern times, though I am of the Oklag, if you must know. Are you not from here? Surely you are, for you speak the language well enough, though with an accent which even I cannot identify. Are you are from the south, perhaps?”

  The stranger flicked the mud off his necklace to reveal alternating beads of bright blue and pine green, then pulled the ends together and tied it back into a circle. “See, that’s the problem. I have had a most unusual day. I don’t know who I am, or where I am from.” Although neither knew it, the stranger was Ulduk Penney, thrown in a swamp hundreds of years ago by an angry mob.

  “You don’t know who you are? Who were you yesterday?”

  “I can’t remember anything.”

  Joao’s look became more and more baffled. “You don’t remember anything before when?”

  “This morning.”

  “Do you remember yesterday? Or last week? This is most peculiar.”

  “I remember waking up. In a swamp. Facing a crocodile.”

  “Huh?”

  “That's what I remember. I woke to find myself in hot, mucky blackness. It seemed that I was suffocating, so I pushed, struggling through layers of rotting leaves and mud. I emerged in the middle of a huge swamp, about a day's walk that direction.” Ulduk pointed towards Sped Swamp. “At first, there were crocodiles and snakes and all sorts of strange creatures surrounding me, but I must have been a frightful sight, 'cause they scampered off. I managed to pull myself out and started this way. Eventually I left the swamp and entered this jungle, but I had no idea where I was, so I kept on walking. In any case, I'm sure glad to be out of that swamp. It's fortunate those blasted crocodiles didn’t take my leg off.”

  “That would be Sped Swamp, just to our north. And those ‘crocodiles' were probably caimans, that far from the Oueme. Hmmm. You know, your accent is not that bad. I would be willing to bet that you are from this land! Perhaps while traversing the swamp, you fell down and lost your memory? Dangerous it is, to travel such a swamp alone!”

  “It is possible. This terrain seems familiar to me. I have heard of the Oklag tribe, but I cannot say whether I am Oklag or not. But of this Atakala, I have not heard of such a tribe. Where are we if not near Oklagut?”

  “We are near Oklagut, but Atakala is not a tribe... it is a nation state, the sum of many tribes between the Amono and Oueme Rivers. Continent of Africa, of course. You do remember Africa, do you not? But you must excuse me for a moment. I see it is just about time.”

  “Time for what?”

  “These cabinets. Their warranties expire today. Ten minutes ago in fact, if I calculate a standard three moon warranty starting from when I put in the last nail.”

  “So?”

  As soon as that fated word, ‘so,’ escaped Ulduk’s lips, a high-pitched whistle came from the jungle, followed by a resounding boom. The ground trembled and the leaves on the trees around them rustled as a gust of wind blew past, running from a flash of light fading in the distance. As the wind blew past, it shook both cabinets slightly. Time seemed to pause as the cabinets shuddered. And then in a flash, the cabinet to Joao's left lost its will to stay together, collapsing into a heap of rubble. The darker colored cabinet beside it remained solid.

  Ulduk looked back and forth between the jungle and the ruined cabinet. “What just happened?” he muttered, stunned.

  “Perplexing, is it not? I have studied this phenomenon for some time. Both cabinets, identical in every respect save one. The cabinet that yet remains was built of plain kapok wood. It is a perfectly normal cabinet and will last for years to come. But the one which now lays in ruin... it was of wood from the Great Tree with the Longer Leaves.”

  “Something terrible has happened in the jungle to cause such commotion and ruin so unique a cabinet!”

  “Ah, but the noise had nothing to do with it. This cabinet was not unique; rather it is one of thousands built of the same wood. My father, his father, even my great grandfather Jaw built these cabinets.”

  “I suppose their cabinets were better constructed.”

  “Oh no! Not at all! That is my point, you see… they would sell these cabinets with a three-moon warranty, but without fail, every cabinet self-destructed after the third moon! They made quite a handsome living that way.”

  “Couldn't their customers have demanded a different wood?”

  “Some did, yes, but most preferred the hue and grain provided by the shorter lived cabinets. People learned to empty the cabinet and set it outside after three moons while they ordered a replacement.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “Every cabinet built of this wood… explodes?”

  “Every one.”

  “But why?” Ulduk stared in puzzlement at the pile of charred tinder.

  “That, my friend, is the quintessential question. I have devoted half of my life to the study of these cabinets, searching for the cause of their odd behavior. I am trying to learn why they only break after three moons and only when constructed from the wood of that one particular tree: the Great Tree with the Longer Leaves. The trees are rare and only found deep in the jungles where the paths end. The tribal leaders revere them as sacred, though all admit that the luster of the wood makes the finest cabinets in the known world... for a couple months at least. But beyond this, little is known about the trees. As for the cabinets, I have found nothing that stops the process. For example, I painted this latest one with roseflower to see if that would keep it together. But it didn’t.” Joao stared at the spot that previously held a functional cabinet. “I have tried everything, from nailing them together with more nails than you would find on an Arush coffin to submerging them in Lake Yaro. I am at my wit's end; yet every day I wake up–and here is insanity incarnate–and I build a new cabinet to begin another experiment. Some day I will learn the truth... I must, or my life has been in vain.”

  “Do you still sell these cabinets?”

  “To be honest, people aren't as fussy about their cabinets as they used to be. These days, I sell very few cabinets made of this wood. Most people choose to buy those made of less beautiful, but longer lasting woods such as this kapok cabinet here. Nonetheless, I find the study of this bizarre wood very interesting. I hope to one day find the cause of this idiosyncrasy, and thereby discover the means of constructing a cabinet with this delightful wood that actually stays together for more than three moons.”

  “What about the other half of your time?”

  “Huh?”

  “You said you only spend half of your time studying cabinets.”

  “Oh, yes, I’m also a free lance weapons design technician for the Atakalan Army. I specialize in gifts for enemies.”

  “Atakalan? Oh, yes–where we are.”

  “It is a fine land, even for one without a past. If you would like, I can direct you to Oklagut; someone there may know who you are. Or if you prefer, you may work here as my apprentice while you sort things out. You can help me with my research.”

  Joao turned and picked up one of the pieces of the dismantled cupboard. A nail fell out of the corroded wood and slipped through his fingers and onto the ground. Part of the back chipped off in his hand. Grim resolution covered his face. “Before I die, I shall figure this out.”

  As if one cue, two foreigners even stranger than Ulduk burst out of the jungle. They were babbling in a strange language, waving their arms angrily at each other. Their shouting briefly diminished when they realized they were not alone, but then returned as they continued their arguing.

  Joao frowned. “Foreigners. I wonder how they got past Sentinel City. We cannot be too cautious these days. Zartro has no sympathy for foreigners.”

  “Zartro?”

  “He is our king. You will remember everything in time. Right now, I think we should escort our visitors to Tsyanou and all will be cleared up. Would you like to come with me?”

  “I don't know. What is Tsyanou?”

  “It is the capital city of Atakala. Zartro and his men are very efficient at deporting unwanted strangers. You are fortunate to be versed in our native speech, or I would deport you as well.”

  “You can’t just walk strangers off to be deported, can you? Won’t they try to kill you?”

  Joao smiled. “Nah. This happens all the time. You would be amazed… the neighboring countries are scared to death of Atakala, and for good reason. We have become a major power, well defended and rich in wealth. Even the fame of our libraries has escaped to distant lands, though we strive to keep them secret. These fellows are probably lost, desperate to escape. Watch.” Joao motioned to the two strangers to sit down on a bench in front of his hut. They looked at each other quizzingly, whispering back and forth. They seemed to come to an agreement and slowly sat down on the bench, exchanging awkward glances and looking around as if it were a trap. “You three just wait right here, okay?” instructed Joao, though only Ulduk understood him. “I am going to prepare some dinner, and then we will take a little trip to Tsyanou.” He turned to Ulduk. “Trust me, this happens all the time. Just keep an eye on them, and make sure they don't steal anything, okay?” He turned and entered his hut.

  Joao’s hut was typical for a middle class citizen of Atakala, a small thatched structure divided into three rooms: a bedroom, a kitchen, and a small sitting area. During the dry season, he spent much of his day outside, fashioning cabinets and hiking in the jungle. During the rainy season, however, his home was a welcome refuge from the daily downpours. His few possessions were carefully stationed around the hut. In the bedroom, his clothing was neatly stacked in a pile beside his bed. In the sitting room, a small hand-carved bench was placed below a narrow opening that functioned as a window. On it was a squat, crudely made candle of yellow wax and two pieces of flint.

  The kitchen was the busiest room. Joao enjoyed cooking and had assembled a neat collection of dishes and wares. Reaching into a wooden cabinet, he picked up two orange yams and gently set them in a small iron bowl. Just as he reached for a spoon, he heard a commotion coming from outside. There was the sound of a scuffle and someone yelling “Heeeellllp!”

  What on Earth is going on out there? Joao dropped the bowl onto a table and ducked through the low door back outside his hut. He looked around, but the three visitors were nowhere to be seen. Strange. They were just here a moment ago. He listened intently and heard the sound of someone crashing through the jungle to the south, then took off after the noise. Thoughts raced through his head as he tried to catch up. The one with the peculiar necklace… he couldn’t remember his own name. It was he who shouted out. He must be in trouble; the other two are more troublesome than they first seemed, and with his foggy mind, he is in no state to deal with them.

  Stopping for a breath, Joao listened once again, but now heard nothing except the lonely moan of a white-faced owl. He wandered around in search of a trail that might have been left by the others, but their path was kept secret. The strangers could have gone in any direction, separated from him by the dense vegetation that obscured their sound and tracks.

  His current task a lost cause, he suddenly remembered the noise and flash of light that he and the first visitor had seen earlier. Now here is a mystery, he thought. First, a great flash and tremor, and then the two foreigners appear. Could they have made such a commotion, or is there a greater force yet to come? Never has an army made it this far into Atakala, yet there is a first time for everything. Worried, he hurried back to his hut, and then turned north into the jungle in the direction from which the foreigners had come. After some time wandering, it seemed that he might again be left without answers. He was about to turn back to his home, but decided to walk a bit longer. Just to the Kili-dur, he reasoned. From its top, I can see a greater distance and might find whatever I seek. Thus he was continuing north when he suddenly stumbled out into a great charred clearing, as from a fire. He was certain it had not been there the last time he’d passed through. The opening ran for thirty yards, ending abruptly at the very foot of the Kili-dur, a rocky outcropping towering above the jungle. A large black mass lay at the base of the rocky cliff, and Joao hurried across the burnt clearing in wonder. The strange object looked like a giant, twisted confusion of stone, an extension of the cliff itself, but much darker in color, smoother and foreign. It vaguely resembled a giant pan with twisted handles in all directions, somewhat like the iron one he used to cook yams. Looking at it made him hungry. The round, middle portion was about as wide as his hut, but each of its handles stretched for the same distance before ending in hulking masses of stone. The thing was black: as black as the night sky. Covering the outside were strange hieroglyphics in gray that he could not decipher. Egyptian, perhaps? he mused. He had heard of Egypt... but he had not heard of massive pans that appeared out of nowhere and burned large tracts of jungle. He could not understand where the suspicious object had come from, where it was going, or what to do with it. It seemed like it had first been on the cliff further up, and then slid down... there was a clear trail of damaged bushes and trees. How the two, or possibly three, strangers were related to it was another mystery. He picked up a charred stick and prodded the outside for a few minutes, and then decided the best course of action was to leave the oversized yam pan alone and travel to the capital and inform the king that something strange was afoot.

  As described in History of a Galaxy: Book I – Redbrick.