Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega: Part 9: Deck 6: Jungle Deck

Warden's "Jungle Deck" was meant as a haven for the most vibrant flora of Earth, where the ship's atmospheric equipment could be supplemented by the abundant oxygen-producing plants of the planet's most lush rainforests. Deck 6 still serves that purpose to this day, the radiation that affected so much of Warden's life, both natural and mechanical, leaving much of the ecosystem here untouched or subtly altered. The deck was designed to accommodate a variety of rainforests, from the cool/temperate pine forests of Earth's Pacific Northwest towards the bow-end of the deck, to the humid jungles of equatorial Africa and the Amazon towards the stern. Innovative climate controls make the transition between such zones gradual, with holographic imagery and subsonic warning tones subtly directing the fauna to stay within their ecosections.

The vast majority of the nonsentient plants on this deck are much as their Earthly counterparts are, or were, with the mutations that are present more akin to what might have occurred naturally on Earth, if accelerated. The fauna is similarly only lightly touched by mutations, though "lightly touched" is very much a comparative statement; compared to human/animal hybrids and plasma-shooting appendages, gigantism and devolution in some species is almost normal-seeming. During the turmoil that gripped the ship for centuries, plants that had developed intelligence migrated to this deck, effectively claiming it as their domain.

Though the major civilization here, such as it is, is flora-centric, there is an abundance of fauna, including tribes of humans and mutants. Most intelligent plants here are not necessarily hostile, or even unfriendly, to humans or animals, but most are decidedly neutral to them, much as normal plants are...until any type of wholesale logging or clear-cutting of plants is attempted. The few times this happened, the sentient plants worked as a collective to wipe out the offending parties. Beyond such circumstances, and the generally rare - though growing in number - carnivorous plants that do exist here, most ambulatory animal life only has other such life to fear.

There are a number of cultures present on the deck. Most are among the intelligent plants, ranging from the somber, gloomy Brotherhood of the Pines of the cooler climes to the riotous Tangle of Life in the torrid regions. Most have no interest in the affairs of the "animals," as most non-plant life is called. Whether it's the quiet commiseration of the ancient conifers or the constant debates about the cycle of life among the stately deciduous trees or the anarchic "live in the now" mindset of the plants in the hottest jungles, the conversations are almost never inclusive of non-plants.

The relatively rare human and humanoid cultures are a bit less apathetic or xenophobic. Still, that often translates into attacking newcomers rather than ignoring them. A variety of non-plant tribal societies have come and gone as the centuries have gone by. At the moment, two notable human, or, at least, human-like cultures live on deck six: the Servants of the Eye and the Ashintins.

The Servants of the Eye are a matriarchal society, with the women of the culture of much greater comparative stature than the men. Dubbed "Amazons" by some visitors to the deck, they reject most such labels and, in addition, most influence by anyone from outside their culture. Content to live in a stone-age level of development, they would offer very little in the way of problems with most who end up on this deck...except for one important aspect of their society: technophobia. Any and all high-tech items, including robots and androids, are sought out by the Servants of the Eye to be used as sacrifices. Those items they cannot acquire in trade, they will take by force. They have also developed surprisingly effective tactics for taking down robots. Items that are nonfunctioning at the time the Servants of the Eye encounter them will be considered deactivated, and not suffer the rather crude means the Servants use to render such objects inert. Once deactivated, any and all items are placed at the altar of the ceremonial temple of the Servants of the Eye. The altar lays before the small, ancient hut that houses the Eye itself, a meter-wide circle in the ground that contains a deep black field spangled and frosted with a myriad of lights. Here is where the shaman of the Servants comes to commune with the god of their tribe, staring deeply into that strange darkness for hours on end, watching as the the lights gradually move. Of course, the more technological viewers will recognize this as an observation port, though why it is on the floor is a mystery created by long-dead engineers and shipbuilders. The Eye is sacred to the Servants, as is the assembled sacrificial technology that is arranged before it. Under no circumstances will the Servants of the Eye willingly part with any item they have sacrificed, and will only trade food for items possessed by others.

The other culture, the Ashintins, are something of an enigma. Few in number, they range all about the Warden, though their home base, a modest and humble treehouse monastery built of logs in a cool, quiet area of the ship, is located here on deck six. The Ashintins are a group that is based upon the ideal of peaceful coexistence among all life, mutated, non-mutated, plant, or animal. They wander the ship, spreading their words of peace. They are not entirely pacifists, as they are willing to defend themselves, but their reputations are now so widespread that they are rarely attacked, and are often welcome most places they go. Though many travel alone, some groups have been encountered, consisting of mutated and non-mutated intelligent creatures, serving as a tangible example of their philosophy. There have been dark rumors about the ultimate motives of the Ashintins, but little besides paranoid speculation to back up those rumors.

The deck has an endless feel to it, the bulkhead walls disguised with yet more subtle holograms and subsonic tones. The effect upon those who manage to acquire a view from on high, such as by climbing into the upper canopy, is almost vertiginous in its apparent infinite expanse of green under skies that vary from deep blue to thunderhead black. The sharp-eyed and patient viewer, though, may eventually glimpse an unsettling vista of a great spike and metallic tentacles protruding from the sky in a certain region, which flicker and vanish, leaving the sky once again as it was.

Next: Part 10: Deck 6A: The Tick Shallop