The Gentle Likpas

The Martyrdom of Likpato 14

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Likpato Martyre continues to explore the likobservatory of astrolikonomy. But he has no idea of what he is going to find!

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Like many gentle Boobettes, I do not like the ocean. There is no life in there, no activity, apart of this terrible plankton which ruthlessly absorbs the carbon dioxide from our air, to the point of removing the greenhouse effect and threatening our planet with a glacial disaster. What a sad feelng of failure, of unfinished business! Sometimes I dream of a clear, fresh ocean, where strange, smooth, streamlined creatures swim merilly between rocks carpeted with multicolored underwater flowers... As in the many legends of the Occitan Likpas, which evoke the distant paradise island of Haralik.

The ocean is frightening. Its terrible storms roar perpetually in its distance, deadly sentinels preventing any access to other parts of Likearth. Some years ago, the expedition of the Periwinckle, one of our six warships which had liberated Jamalika (see «The War of the Phallos») had ended in a terrible failure: an ionospheric yoyoting crisis had cut off all radio communication, and it had been impossible to reestablish contact afterwards. The Periwinkle was most likely crushed under the monstrous waves of the perpetual hurricane.

It is the heat stored in the ocean which produces these climatic violences, which isolate our islands. The ocean used to be warm. But today the temperature difference remains, because the climate is also cooling. So it snowed on the town of the phallos two years ago, something never seen in phallo memory. And now there is snow every winter on the breasty Mount, whereas in Maggie's time (See «Maggie») there never was any. Worse, certain kinds of fruits and flowers which fear frost are now becoming impossible to find...

It is said that in ancient times, the plankton was so dense that the ocean resembled soup. And the wind sometimes blew several meters of this sickening foam onto the beaches, where it would then rot for months, with a terrible stench.

And there also were the stinking storms: A reddish mist would suddenly arrive from the distant oceans, smelling so acrid that people would faint in the streets of the town of the phallos. It was then impossible to work, and the slightest effort would make people gasp. Once, two ships on an expedition to the hypothetical island of Haralik were caught at the source of a stinking storm. The few survivors recounted a nightmarish vision: the sea suddenly turning red and boiling, the first ship sank in just five seconds, without damage, straight up without even capsizing. The second ship only owed its survival to its greater distance from the phenomenon. The sailors on the deck fell as if struck by lightning, and only a few managed to lock themselves in the hold, where they remained for three days without daring to get out. These days, there are hardly any stinking storms anymore, and I have only once smelled that unforgettable, pungent, metallic, chthonic odor that seems to fall from the sky and fill the entire universe. Scientists have discovered that stinking storms are limnic eruptions, which still sometimes release residues of our planet's primitive atmosphere, still dissolved at the bottom of the ocean.

Despite its violence, the ocean fascinates, and many Boobettes (and before them, the scraguns) build boats and travel around our islands, which is why our port is so busy. The scraguns also have a port, but they are subject to movement restrictions to protect Jamalika and the other small islands in the vicinity. The Likpas also have their likport, but they cannot build likboats large enough, so they prefer to create submarines.

But the main activity of the ports is coal trawling (Author's note: nowhere on Likearth are there oil or coal mines). The ocean floor is lined with 10 to 20 meters of kerogen and peat, residue from our planet's primitive atmosphere, precipitated to the bottom of the ocean eight thousand years ago by this famous plankton. Thus, since the beginning of the industrial era, numerous black trawlers have been dredging this smelly sludge, which is the basis of the industry of both phallos and Boobettes.. This sludge can be burned as is, but it can also be distilled. It then produces gasoline for engines, oils and other chemicals, tar and steel coke. It is an installation of this kind which killed Maggie's husband (See «Maggie»). This coke does not require the addition of limestone, because it already contains a lot of dolomite, the remains of plankton skeletons. Finally, everyone carefully collects the coal ash, because it makes cement (Author's note: there is no limestone on Likearth). Burning coal is also good for strengthening the failing greenhouse effect, but scientists say we would need to burn thousands times more to avoid the glacial catastrophe predicted for 50 years from now.