The argument was to be the origin of their people. Even though Mahrree had told Rector Densal she wanted to defend the version taught in The Writings, he thought her skills would be better used posing all the fantastical ideas instead. She had to agree—she loved those stories that stretched children’s imaginations by offering alternatives to explaining the world.
After the usual introductions, Mahrree took to the platform and launched into every alternative she’d read about, beginning with the theory that their lives were shot into existence by an arrow sent from another plane of reality.
Then she related the idea that the world came from a fortunate accident that occurred through a random sequence of unrelated events.
She continued with the belief that everyone existed in some lonely woman’s head, and when she finally went to sleep they would all vanish.
She concluded with Terryp’s theory that the world just appeared one day, and it was dragged behind enormous animals such as elephants, bears, turtles, and squirrels—depending upon the season—in search of peace and tranquility. Or a large stash of nuts. For some reason all of the animals, it was believed, craved nuts.
A few times Mahrree was amazed at the rapt attention of the captivated audience. It was as if most Edgers had forgotten about the tales, and perhaps, she thought sadly, they had.
Captain Shin just observed her with patient amusement.
When she paused to catch her breath after fifteen minutes, he asked, “But Miss Peto, what proof do you have that any of these theories are possibly true? Why would there be a giant squirrel anyway?”
“Why can’t there be a giant version of something small? I see it in dogs all the time. Just because we can’t see the giant squirrel doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist beneath us,” she smiled mischievously. “But travel to the bottom of the world to prove to me there is no squirrel. Or anything else. Go.” She shooed him.
His studious expression didn’t change, even though the villagers snickered.
“Just because you and a few others imagine it doesn’t mean it exists, either. You’re suggesting you’ll believe whatever someone can imagine.”
“Only by taking our imaginations seriously, even for just a moment, can we expand our minds to bigger ideas,” she insisted. “I’ll attempt to believe whatever I can imagine, until I can dismiss the idea as false or illogical.”
“You simply can’t entertain every single imagined idea. That would be hundreds of thousands of ideas,” Captain Shin pointed out.
“That’s exactly what I try to do!” she declared.
To the amusement of the villagers, Teeria shouted, “She does—really!”
“She never quits. We wished she did!” Sareen added loudly.
The captain shook his head slowly in sympathy as the audience laughed.
Mahrree nodded appreciatively at her students. “We must be imaginative, Captain Shin! The Creator is the most inventive Being ever, and since He created us, He expects us to think as ingeniously. Wasn’t it you who said on our first debate that the Creator wants each of us to also become creators?”
Captain Shin glowered and nodded.
Mahrree beamed. “I believe the world holds all kinds of possibilities we’ve never expected. Ancient mysteries can be unraveled if we just take the time to ponder them. Our accomplishments in the upcoming years have to be imagined now before we can make them happen later. The sky’s the limit. And the color of the sky right now, by the way,” she added impishly, “is a deep gray-blue darkening to black with white spotty stars and two larger spheres of the full moons.”
As the captain rolled his eyes, Mahrree continued enthusiastically. “But maybe not even the sky is the limit! Maybe someday we’ll even find a way to fly like the birds or even visit the Greater Moon. We just haven’t worked out those possibilities yet, but we could if we started imagining it.”
The entire audience burst out in dubious laughter, but Mahrree wasn’t bothered. She didn’t believe they would ever visit the Greater Moon either, or even the Smaller Sister, but she felt passionately about everything else she said.
And she thoroughly enjoyed the steady gaze of the captain as he tried to discern just how serious she was.
“In fact,” she continued, “over the past two weeks I’ve given a great deal of thought to your argument about progress, Captain Shin. You said you’d never met someone so opposed to progress, but you didn’t know me very well. I believe in a great many possibilities in our progression. Already in 319 years we’ve accomplished so much. Our ancestors couldn’t make melodies as intricate as we do now, or drawings or stories. I’ve even heard of people now carving objects out of rock.”