Author's Note - Written for Round One of SFSD X

Sub-genre - Lost World.  Prompts -I've included items 4, 5, 6, 9 and 10.   Word count 5,150

It's the year 2815 and following a few hundred years of global warfare, Earth is pretty messed up.

There are rumours of an island far below the 60th parallel whereupon a civilisation has been untouched by the war. Upon arrival though, your character discovers that not only has this civilisation been untouched by the war, it is also trapped in time, and an incredibly messed up time at that!

~~~

"They're here! They're here!" Xan's excited cries pierced the air. "Qu, come and see!"

Qu Pang dropped his spoon on the table and rushed outside to the veranda, all thoughts of breakfast forgotten. Xan was down on the ground, wide-eyed with excitement, jumping from one foot to the other. "Hurry!"

The two boys raced between the houses, down to the harbour, dodging between the adults moving at a more leisurely pace in the same direction. Panting, they reached the long bamboo wharf and saw, somewhat to their disappointment, that the huge sailing ship was already bumping gently against the dock.

Elder N'yen was there too, bustling forward officiously to be the first to welcome Captain Broward and his crew home. The Sea Eagle had been gone for five months, searching for a passage north. Considering that more than two hundred years had passed since the end of the Armageddon Wars, Broward was convinced the atmosphere would be breathable, the land safe to explore. He wanted to know if anything was left in the North, if anything had survived. If anything was salvageable.

Now the Sea Eagle was back.

Qu Pang stared more closely at the ship, suddenly aware that something was wrong. The huge sails were dull with salt spray, the deck unpolished - faults an experienced Captain like Broward would never condone.

Talking of whom... "Where's Captain Broward?" he asked Xan. "The crew?" Xan shook his head and shrugged.

A tall, skinny man appeared abruptly, standing up in the hatch space.

"Help," he said, his voice scratchy as if through disuse. "We need help."

For a moment, no-one moved. Then Healer Ju-Li pushed forward through the small crowd. "Let me pass," she murmured, her satchel of medicines slung over one shoulder as always.

Qu stared at the crewman. Even from here, he could see that the man's hair was long and lank, as if it had been days since it was washed. The exhaustion radiated from him like heat. He swayed and reached out a hand to balance himself on the edge of the hatch. At that moment, his sleeve slipped back, exposing, raw red flesh. Green pus oozed from the open wound.

There was an audible gasp from all those who were close enough to see and most took a quick step backwards.

"We need help," the man repeated.

Healer Ju-Li faltered, her eyes seeking those of the crewman. "What happened, Evan?" she asked, in a gentle voice. But she stayed on the dock.

His eyes were glassy, as if he wasn't really seeing her. "So hot! It got hotter and hotter, and we started to get sick. Shelly and Mima had it first - then Poul and the Cap'n..." His voice trailed off for a moment. "At the beginning, we thought it was just ship fever. But then Shelly got even sicker, and died. The smell... we had to toss her overboard. After that, Cap'n decided to turn back. Georg and I seemed okay - he hoped we could get everyone home before it struck us down as well." He took a deep shuddering breath. "Well, I made it."

"Where are the others, Evan?" asked Ju-Li.

"Dead. All dead."

Immediately, the Elders took charge. Hustling away the children, and indeed everyone but Ju-Li and Tom Potter, the most experienced of the fishermen. Under orders from the Elders, Tom Potter towed the ship out to sea and sank it in the deepest spot he knew. They said Evan died that same day from the illness which had claimed the rest of the crew, certainly no-one ever saw him again.

After that, no-one went exploring. There was no need, said the Elders, apart from foolish curiosity. There was enough food at hand, and enough settlements nearby - within a few hundred kilometres - for trading. Exploring further was simply too dangerous.

~~~

Twenty Years later

It was midday, the sun shone bright and fierce on his uncovered head. Qu Pang hurried down to the harbour, his sandals slapping on the paving stones, eager to start his new endeavour, preferably with as little fuss as possible. The few shops he passed were shuttered against the midday heat, their owners probably enjoying a well-earned siesta before starting work again in a few hours.

The wharf was usually deserted at this hour; the fishing boats having left hours ago, jostling for position as they raced to catch the early tide and get the best spots. He had chosen this time deliberately, knowing that it was too late for the fishing boats and too early for those who would come down to the wharf to buy the fish and seaweed the boats would bring on their return.

He turned left off the main wharf and went down a couple of steps onto a narrow bamboo pontoon which stuck out at right angles, sheltering vessels from the north winds which blustered their way down the inlet all too frequently.

The Sea Dragon was where he had left her, securely tucked into her berth. Qu Pang paused for a minute to cast a critical eye over his wind ship. It had taken him two years to build, working long hours at the shipyards. The solar panel-sails were dark grey, their matt surface carefully engineered to capture the maximum light and heat available. When not in use, they folded down over the deck, fitting together as tightly as scales on a fish. He smiled briefly. Everything was as he had left it.

He pressed his hand into a socket at the front of the hull, twisted, then stood back to watch the forward panels retract before they sprung upright into a sail.

Once they were in position, he jumped lightly down onto the deck, released the tether, and took the controls, as Sea Dragon drifted slowly out of the berth. He steered carefully between the landings, weaving his way out to the open harbour.

Soon the wharf was behind him and dark green mangroves began to line the shores, a haven for crustaceans and spawning fish. As one of the few species of tree which had survived the Armageddon Wars, the mangroves were fiercely protected - encouraged to grow wild. Behind the mangroves, plantations of bamboos were tenderly cultivated, providing most of the building materials for the settlement.

Bamboo was strong and versatile, wood far too scarce to use for building. Qu Pang had seen images of the huge eucalyptus trees which had once covered the area known as the Adelaide Plains, and he'd heard tell of tall trees still growing far to the east, beyond the hills, but he'd never seen one. Of course, that had all been before the Wars. Now the area was called the Port Wetlands, a series of swamps and flood plains, dotted with islands covered with grass and reeds.

Once the worst of the floods and storms due to the pre-war Climate Collapse subsided, people gradually returned to the area, settling on the larger and more protected islands, building their houses and workshops from stones and bamboo. Now, two hundred years later, there was a thriving community, using solar and wind powered technology, supporting themselves through fishing and trading with nearby settlements .

He steered the Sea Dragon carefully down the deeper channel in the middle of the harbour, skirting the ancient lighthouse which, being made of reinforced iron, was still standing. He gave a brief salute, a sailor's ritual, to the curved, rusting object which was skewered to the top like a beetle on a pin. The story went that the object had been flung there during the first tsunami which had levelled most of the old city.

The lighthouse slipped away behind him, then a few more kilometres and he was out in the open sea, turning south. No-one had tried to stop him. No-one was following. Why should they? As far as everyone knew, he was making his regular run to Kanga Isle, to bring back precious honey.

Of course, once they realised where he had gone, it remained to be seen if they would let him return.

He shouldn't blame his people, he supposed. These days, few sailors ventured beyond the next gulf and fewer still returned with exotic items to wonder and marvel at. All too often, anything unusual was contaminated or deformed. The last ship to try and reach the northern hemisphere had limped back into harbour, it's crew already dying from unknown poisons.

Qu Pang had been a small child at the time, but he still shuddered at the memory of the red, shredding flesh, the green pus.

That was why he wasn't going North. He was going South. He knew from personal experience that the ocean was vast, but there were rumours, even in the Port Wetlands, of ancient colonies so far south the land was frozen. He knew that was just a fairytale - but, maybe there was something there, something to trigger the rumours.

Unconsciously, Qu Pang was smiling, a wide smile of anticipation. Four years of dreaming, preparation, and sheer hard work was behind him. He was free and heading toward adventure.

(to be continued...)