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outofgloom · 1 year ago

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[This story is the last in my previously-posted anthology of Bionicle short fiction, to which it lends its name]

AIKURU

We arrived at the site before sunrise. It was in a place north of the ridge called Sakerra in the language of our Skrall guides. The discovery had been made only five days ago, and as we made our way down from the wind-worn crags, there were no apparent signs of raiding.

A structure was there in the valley, just as the flyover had reported. It was of the same gray, stonelike material from which all Their architecture is made—so old now that it no longer gleams in the light, but somehow still smooth to the touch.

As soon as we reached the lower steppes, our rangers set about the task of making provision for departure. Four days were allotted to us, and then the existence of the site would be announced to the Quadrate at large. After that, the System Adherents would claim their rights, and the site would be swallowed up in pilgrimage.

The structure was immediately familiar to me as we approached: a broad circle, rounded at the edges, raised from the ground by perhaps two spans to form a low column or stage. Half of the structure was covered beneath a berm of sediment, probably deposited by one flash-flood and then partly washed away by another. We immediately began the process of excavation, except for Neisa, who took up a position on the west side of the structure with her tools for assessing angles and spans, ready to note the position at which the red dawnlight would fall. It was a typical measurement, given the theory that such shrines were oriented in a significant way.

First with shovels and then with small brushes of fine wire, we cleared away the dust and caked mud until the entire circumference was revealed. As I had suspected, the entryway was already opened, and it too was filled with earth. Most of the first day was spent this way: in turns, we sifted through each layer, revealing step by narrow step the spiraling staircase that characterized shrines of this type. They were an original icon: the prototype for the modern chapels of the System Adherents.

I was halfway down the second bend of the staircase, carefully cleaning dirt from the lip of the next step, when Osphos summoned me from above. I emerged with my bucket and saw that he was crouched over the shrine’s far edge. I stepped across the rolls of harak-cloth that had been laid down for the protection of the exterior and made my way over.

“Lytus!” he said, seeing me approach. “Look here.” He pointed at the stone surface before him.

We had already noted the usual markings on top of the shrine: the eighteen-fold division of the broad circle, the components of which descended into a staircase when the shrine was opened. That was nothing new, but here there was something else. Small symbols were carved around the outer edge of the circle; very worn, but still visible.

“They showed up once we cleared off enough sediment,” Osphos said.

“Are they makoki-symbols?”

“Herem’s Eye, that’s the word I was thinking of! Makoki-symbols, yes,” Osphos said. “Ever seen them on a structure like this?”

“No, never. Are we sure they’re original?” I crouched, put an eye close to the surface. “There’s graffiti sometimes, bone-hunter codes, the Matan inscriptions on the eastern sites... These are new to me.”

“Any guess as to what they might signify?”

“Well...” I sat back on my heels, rubbed my eyes. “Makokori are early period, and we don’t find them past Second or Third Myriad—not in the tablets or kini-ruins. Prior to that, they’re inscribed on doorways, and some of the Machines. There are theories that they signify keystones, or some kind of locking mechanism.”

“Fortunate that this shrine is already unlocked for us, then.”

“Yeah... I suppose these symbols might help date the shrine. If they’re original, this might be one of the earliest sites we’ve found. We should do an analysis of the sediment back at Naqua.”

“Already collected some samples. I’ll take a rubbing as well,” Osphos said. “How’s progress on the interior?”

I brushed off my hands. “We’re close. Another turn and we should be at the bottom. I could use more help.”

Osphos snapped his fingers to the other workers who were combing the field-grid for artifacts.

“Double-time on the stairs for the next few hours,” he called. “I want to see the bottom before Solis is down. Let’s move it!”

* * *

We did not reach the bottom. Normally, shrines of this kind exhibit two or three turns of stairs and then level out in a circular chamber. Not this one. Solis had set an hour ago, and still we were digging, our work illuminated only by pale quartz-lanterns. Stair after stair we exhumed, always expecting the next to be the last. But after six turns, descending fully twelve thori—or about six of Their bio—into the earth, still there was no end.

Osphos finally gave the command to stop, frustrating though it was, and we began to pack up the tools. I was at the bottom of the excavation at that point. The air was thick, and my back hurt from crouching for so long. I began to gather the various shovels and brushes that had accumulated around me, handing them up to Neisa on the stair above me.

“Can you handle the rest?” Neisa nodded to the remaining implements.

“Right behind you.” I stood and stretched my limbs in the cramped space, then reached for my tool-bundle and bucket.

Something caught my eye—a glint in the quartzlight, a fragment of something sticking out of the mass of earth before me. I rubbed my tired eyes, blinked away the settling dust. It was still there.

Wordlessly, I snatched up a brush and began to sweep away more dirt. It was metallic—a shaped metal object. There was a corner and a round sweep and...

“Lytus?” Osphos’s voice filtered down from above. He was annoyed. “Pack it in. We’ll get back to it first thing in the—”

“I’ve found something!” I called back. “It’s an object. I’m not sure...”

Eyeholes. A facelike shape. My heart thudded.

“It’s a mask,” I said excitedly. “One of Theirs.”

“What?!” Neisa had come back down the staircase. Light from her lantern spilled into the space. “What condition?”

“Intact, I think.”

She knelt down beside me with a brush of her own. Together we worked to carefully expose the surface of the mask. The sediment here was dry and loose, spilling away in small showers of particulate. All at once, the object came free, along with a mass of unpacked earth. Out of instinct, I put out a hand to catch it.

“Watch it,” Neisa said. “Careful not to—”

I was standing on the stairs, alone. Light was coming from somewhere—not quartzlight, from somewhere below me. Coming up out of the stone itself. I was descending... or had I been ascending? My mind was kuru, and... What? Dark. Foggy. My mind was foggy. What was happening? Where was—

Suddenly the ground lurched, and there was a roaring noise above. I staggered against the smooth poha... no, stone. Against the stone, and the avo flickered below me. The light flickered, rather. Then another tremor knocked me sideways, and stars broke out in my aku as my head struck the poha hard. The avo went out, and the roaring was all around, and it was kuru, ai kuru, ai kuru ai—

“...touch it,” Neisa finished. The metal of the mask was cold against my fingers. The stairs spun, and I felt sick for a moment. Then it was over. I quickly transferred the mask to a strip of harak-cloth, handling it gingerly.

“What was... What did you say?” I shook my head. “Don’t touch it?”

“Yeah... uh, you alright? You look pale.”

I grinned. “I’m fine. Could use some fresh air though. You feeling superstitious or something?”

She scoffed. “I don’t know why I said that. It was silly.”

“You know they say these masks trap the souls of their wearers...”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Neisa bent down to examine the artifact. “Amazing. I’ve only seen them behind glass, or in the sterile rooms at Naqua.”

“Yeah, this is... It’s a find,” I said. The mask felt heavy and solid in my hands.

There was a murmur on the stairs, and I could hear Osphos’s grumbling voice descending toward us. He turned the corner.

“What now?” he said. “Tell me you’ve found something to make this worthwhile.”

“Think so,” I said, holding up the mask.

“What’s that?”

“Are you blind?” Neisa laughed. “It’s a Kanochus Mat—”

“No,” Osphos said, pointing past us. “That.”

There was a cavity in the wall of earth before us. It must have opened up when we removed the mask.

“The bottom!” Neisa said excitedly. She moved forward, shining her light through the gap.

She stopped. It wasn’t the bottom. I could already see. My heart was still thudding. It was dark. It was roaring in my ears. There was a smell, strangely metallic... and another shape sticking out of the dirt. Not a mask.

Fingers. A hand. An arm.

A face. Flat, blank eyes. A circular, wedge-like mouth. Open.

One of Them.

* * *

We stood around the examination table with its harak-draped contents—Osphos, Neisa, and myself. It was afternoon, and Solis was already falling toward the horizon, casting red shadows through the fabric of the tent.

Osphos broke the silence: “I don’t need to impress upon either of you how significant a find this is. Maybe the most significant I’ve overseen.”

“That’s for sure,” Neisa said. “The protobiologists back at the Institute would lose it if they knew...”

“They would, and hopefully they still will.”

We had worked to remove the body from the shrine over the course of the day—Osphos, Neisa, and myself, in shifts. It had been difficult work, but uneventful. Bit by bit we’d brushed away the packed earth and ancient sediment, revealing more and more of the remains. Now extricated from its tomb, the body lay on the large table before us, still wrapped, ready to be examined.

Before today, I’d only ever seen bits and pieces, partial casts of exoskeletons, mock-ups of skull-like faces... But this was different. It was completely intact, as far as we could tell: head, torso, limbs. A monumental find. The first complete specimen of what we called Matorus Matans.

“Before we start, there’s the matter of our timetable,” Osphos continued. “We obviously weren’t expecting a development like this, and that means priorities have changed.” He looked at me: “We might not get back to the shrine. I’m sorry, Lytus.”

My heart sank. “You’re sure? The shrine is pretty significant on its own, and we still haven’t reached the base layer.”

“It’s not going anywhere. The Adherents can have their Node if they want, and we’ll work something out via the Institute later if necessary. These... remains... have to be our focus now. I want them cataloged and prepared for transport offsite.”

“Offsite?” Neisa raised her eyebrows. “That’s pretty drastic.”

“There’s good reason,” Osphos said. “The Adherents have some odd notions when it comes to remains of this kind.”

“I mean, they’ll want them interred I suppose, but...”

“Maybe. It’s complicated—”

The tent-flap opened, and someone else entered carrying a bundle of implements. It was one of the junior researchers—Cyrcia.

“Yes?” Osphos said flatly.

“I told her that she could observe,” I said, beckoning her in. “Neisa and I thought we could use an extra set of hands.”

“You’ve done catalog before?” Osphos asked.

“Yes, I have,” Cyrcia replied. Her eyes passed over the table and its contents, then back up. “It’s a real honor, I’ve gotta say—”

“I’m sure it is. Grab a tablet, and get ready to make notes.” Osphos turned to the table, cracked his knuckles.

“The light’s a bit better now. Neisa, will you do the honors?”

Neisa began to carefully pull back the cloth that covered the body while I unrolled a bundle of fine tools. The limbs and lower torso were still encrusted with sediment. I’d start with that while Neisa took her measurements. We each began to call out observations in turn for Cyrcia to transcribe. We moved quickly, notating and tagging the legs and the squared-off feet, then the lower torso with its segments, then the upper torso.

“One and a half thori across the chest,” Neisa called out, “and we’ll say ten sub-thori for the arms...”

“Primary exoskeleton is of common morphology,” Osphos said. “Similar format to those recovered from the Galian Sea. Connective tissues are mostly decayed...”

“Some surface corrosion around the joining plates,” I added. “Centerline and upper shoulders. Only 1-2 ditori of penetration. Make note for dating purposes, mark upper-left buckle for cross-sectioning...”

“Twelve sub-thori across the lower mid-section. Five sub-thori for each of the radial pistons...”

“Tissue residue along the clavicle struts. Mark for lab-sampling. Limbs and neck will need to be secured for transport...”

Finally, we reached the head. I tugged the cloth upward and pulled it off. Cyrcia gasped and put a hand to her mouth.

“First time?” Neisa said, smiling.

“Yes, but... shouldn’t it be... shouldn’t it stay covered?”

“It’s a corpse,” Osphos said. “Just a body, like yours or mine. Several ten-myriads older, but nothing to be afraid of, despite all the superstitions.”

“Right... sorry.”

“Can you handle it?”

“I can.”

“Good. Let’s keep going then. And remember—no souvenirs. We’re not bone hunters here.”

Neisa rolled her eyes. The practice of fashioning talismans from Their relics and remains had fortunately been curbed in recent centuries, though you could still find them in the odd back-alley market.

We finished primary cataloging, and Osphos stepped to one of the crates, removing a bundle he had stored there. He moved back to the table and unwrapped it. Smooth metal glinted in the tent. Two eyeholes stared up at the tent-roof. Cyrcia’s eyes goggled at the ancient mask.

“Shall we do a match-up?” Neisa asked, nodding to the exposed face. “This would have been the specimen’s personal Kanochus. It must have been separated during whatever flood or mudslide buried the shrine.”

There was a noise in my ears. Roaring noise, and a memory of a dark place... I shook it off as Osphos moved to the head of the table after double-checking the mask’s interior. He lowered the mask gingerly over the face, lining up the mouth-apertures. There was a faint click. Neisa leaned over to see how it fit over the side-vents—

Dark eyes glowed, and a light winked on in the center of the chest. Pistons hissed. Joints creaked. The body sat up suddenly in a shower of dust, limbs convulsing, fingers clenching and unclenching. I stumbled backward in shock, tripping over the low crates that lined the tent-wall. The masked face swiveled mechanically in my direction, and there was a noise. Not a noise—a voice. The rounded wedge-mouth was grinding out syllables at me. Alien sounds. Alien words. I put up my hands to ward it off, and—

Everyone was standing still. The eyes were dark. The body had not moved. I was sitting on a crate, my ears ringing. Neisa was looking down at me with a concerned expression.

“You okay, Lytus?”

“I... I got dizzy,” I lied.

“How much sleep did you get last night?” Osphos asked. He had removed the mask and was wrapping it up again.

“A few hours at least. I’m fine, really.” I stood up, looking at the motionless body warily, trying to compose myself. No one else had seen what I had seen. It hadn’t really happened. Neisa was still looking at me.

“Are you sure? You look a little unsettled. First in the shrine, and then this. Maybe you should see a medic.”

Before I could reply, the tent-flap opened and another worker poked his head in. He was out of breath.

“Sorry, to bother you, boss, but there’s, uh... Someone’s here to talk to you.”

“Someone?” Osphos frowned.

“There was an airship, not two minutes ago. It landed beyond the ridge, and someone’s approaching from the trail.”

“Herem’s Eye,” Osphos swore.

* * *

The rangers escorted the strangers—there were two of them, actually—down to the edge of the camp.

One was tall—clearly an Athori—and as he approached, it was plain that he was fully armored; head to toe, like the Glatorian of old. The other was much shorter, bent over, leaning on a staff. It was a Skrall—an ancient one, by the head-crest.

Both of them wore metal masks. Only their eyes were visible.

The tall one planted himself just ahead, his squared-off, armored feet crunching in the gravel. The Skrall settled himself on a low metal stool beside him.

Osphos stepped forward.

“Welcome,” he said politely. “I am Osphos, the overseer of this excavation. And you are?”

“My designation is Tasius,” the tall one said. His voice rang harsh behind the mask. “I am a Toa of the Adherency, of the Ackarian line. This...” he gestured to the Skrall, “...is Tura Shozu, elder of the Adherent Node at New Tellu. We have been sent to make claim upon this site.”

“You’ve lost no time, it seems,” Osphos said dryly. “I wasn’t aware the Quadrate had opened the site at this time.”

“The site and its contents must be turned over at once. We—” Tasius stopped suddenly. The Skrall had raised a wizened hand.

“You are aware,” the elder said in a thin voice, “that the Adherency is granted right of access to all sites attributed to the System of Mata, are you not?”

“Well aware, yes. That is what we aim to determine: the provenance of the site, and the proper methods of its excavation and preservation, according to our charter.”

“Preservation or contamination?” The Skrall’s glance flicked to the tents behind us. “Our intelligence has indicated that this site is of particular significance to the Adherency.”

“You can follow the proper channels to make your claims, like everyone else.”

The Skrall continued undeterred:

“We have been made aware of certain... remains... left at this site. What is their nature, and how have they been contained?”

I could see the muscles in Osphos’s jaw flexing.

“Our excavation is less than two days old. May I ask the source of your ‘intelligence’?”

“The System is knowledge. Through Unity, knowledge is shared.”

“Fascinating,” Osphos said. “Well, regardless of your sources, I can’t give you access to the site at this time. By charter, the Quadrate has—”

“Animal remains, yes? Within the structure. I was led to believe that it was a beast.”

“I’m not at liberty to make that assessment.”

“May I see the remains?”

“All materials found at this site will be made publicly available.”

“I demand to see the remains.”

“No.”

The Skrall smiled. “Thank you for your candor. We have a truth-saying, amongst the Nodes: ‘The people of the world are of one nature or the other: Look into their hearts, and you will see that they are either Builders or Destroyers.”

“With respect, I believe it may be more complicated than that.”

“Then I have looked into your heart.”

“Uh…thank you. Is that all, Tura? We have a lot of work still to do.”

“I shall take word of our conversation to the Node Hierarchy and return later.”

“Fine by me.”

The Skrall put out a crooked hand and closed it into a fist in the manner of the Adherents. He inclined his head, waiting. After a moment, Osphos stepped forward and pressed his own fist against the elder’s. Then it was over. The Athori helped the Skrall to stand, and the two of them departed back up the slope, accompanied by the rangers. Osphos stood and watched, tapping his foot. He spoke quietly, keeping his face fixed in a smile.

“So much for offsite transport,” he growled after a few minutes. “They’ll have eyes on the camp now. By Angon, if we’d been just a bit quicker...” He swore again. Then, satisfied that the rangers had escorted the Toa far enough, he turned back to the camp.

“Nothing for it now. Let’s clean up and get things packed away. Oh, and Lytus—”

“Yeah?”

“Get some sleep—for real this time. I can’t have you falling over again during sensitive work.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

* * *

I didn’t sleep well that night after all. Instead, I dreamed.

Long, complicated dreams. Dreams that didn’t make any sense. I was in the stairwell of the shrine again. I was on a bright, open plain. I was speaking words and sentences that meant nothing to me. I was running from a dark, crashing wave that rolled over me and pressed on my face, on my mouth.

I was walking on the open plain again, and two suns were shining down on me. My face was still covered though, somehow. I reached up to claw at whatever was there. It came away in my hands.

It was my face, staring up at me.

I was lying in my cot, and the tent was dark. The desert night was cold outside. I shivered and turned over. There was a noise at the tent-flap, something scraping in the dirt. The dull ring of metal on poha... on stone.

The flaps shook. It was trying to get in. It was grinding, grinding words and syllables at me, words that meant nothing. It was roaring, roaring noise and darkness, darker than the night. It was kuru, ai kuru, roaring over the camp, crashing through the walls of my tent in a wave and sweeping me down into dark, into kuru, ai kuru, ai kuru ai—

“Lytus?” Neisa’s voice brought me fully awake. It was morning. My bleary eyes focused, and I could see her silhouette through the side of the tent. “Lytus, you awake?”

“I’m up, sorry. What’s going on?”

“The emissary from the Adherents is back. Osphos is speaking with them.”

“Oh. What should we do?”

“Osphos said to stay put. Probably wouldn’t look good to have everyone out at the shrine right now.”

“That’s a shame.”

“Yeah I’m heading over to one of the storage tents to help with tagging. Want to help?”

“Sure, I’ll follow you over in a bit.”

After a few minutes, I stepped outside into the pale red sunlight. I could see Osphos and a couple of the rangers on the far side of the circle of tents. The Athori and the Skrall were there as well. Their voices echoed faintly in the morning air, and I found myself walking closer. I stepped behind one of the taller tents nearby.

“...does not accord with our canons,” the Skrall was saying.

“I confess, Shozu—can I call you Shozu?”

“The correct title is ‘Tura’,” another voice said brusquely—the armored Athori.

“Sorry... Tura,” Osphos continued. “I’m not as familiar with the canons of Adherency as I should be, but I can assure you—”

“It is of utmost importance that we examine the site. The Kanohi in particular must be handed over.”

They knew about the mask somehow. Had they been spying on the camp?

“As I’ve said, that is something to take up with the Quadrate.”

“It is already in process, but the matter is urgent.”

“I must adhere to my charter and await further orders. Until then, we’ll continue our work.”

“We must be allowed to supervise. My companion here is trained in the handling of such objects. They must be treated with utmost care.”

“Yes, and—”

“And these remains—they must be verified. Some hapless bone hunter or a beast, I’m sure.”

“As I’ve told you, it is clearly a specimen of Matorus Matans, good Tura. There’s no mistaking it.”

“And as I have said, this is not in accord with our canons. Such things only lead to greater kuru.”

“Pardon?”

“Greater obscurity—my apologies. The Children of Mata are not some extinct automaton race. We ourselves are the heirs to the Great System Hierarchy. You must understand—”

“Your beliefs are your own.”

“...The Kanohi are precious. They connect us to the spirit of Mata, and to the spirits of those from the Before Time...”

My mind was racing, an avalanche of thoughts, fragments of dreams. A roaring noise, and dark, and kuru... What was happening to me? The Kanohi are precious... They connect us to the spirit of Mata...

What if...?

“Only then can we hope to repair the Shattering,” the elder was saying.

“With respect,” Osphos replied, “the Shattering is ancient history. It was repaired, at least five myriads ago.”

“A common myth, but it is a great untruth.”

I could tell Osphos was short on patience by now: “I can literally point it out to you in the strata. You see that ridge there? The Sakerran Ridge? It’s the tail end of a subduction zone where the Botan and Baran plates met—”

The Skrall laughed dryly: “A fantastical narrative, I admit, that a planet could be broken in pieces. But the reality is much more abstract. We ourselves live within the Shattering, my friend: the decay of the Great System Hierarchy of the Great Beings, which they called Mata Nui...”

“I do not—”

“We the Matoran,” the Skrall continued, ignoring him, “the Children of Mata, work now to rebuild and restore the Great System, in accordance with our canon. To connect all things together, till the scattered elements are made whole. Only then will the Great Beings return and truly heal this world.”

A long moment passed. The air was thick with tension.

“Ahem... I do not believe this conversation is productive,” Osphos said at last. “I’m not granting you access to the site at this time—no matter what your canons say. You’ll just have to wait for your request to be approved by the Quadrate, and that’s that, by Angon.”

Something happened. There was a scuffling noise, and the clank of armor.

“Hold it! That’s enough, you—”

I peeked over the top of the tent. The Athori—the one who had called himself a ‘Toa’—was standing between Osphos and the Skrall now, fists clenched. For a moment, I thought... I thought the air around him was shimmering with heat, like high noon on the desert. Then it was gone. There were rangers standing all around, and I noticed that they had weapons at the ready. One of them swung a bolas lazily.

“Control your guard, Shozu,” Osphos spat. “My reports go directly to the Quadrate. They’ll hear of this.”

“Take not the names of the Great Beings in vain!” the Skrall said indignantly, pointing a crooked finger from his stool. “The canon shall not be denied, nor shall it be mocked.”

“I’ve said all I have to say, by Angon.” He emphasized the expletive. “Now if you’ll excuse me, Tura, I’m on a timetable—”

“Such things lead only to kuru and ukuru worse! We must strive for clarity...!”

I had heard enough. Quietly I crept away between the tents, back toward the other side of the camp. The Skrall’s words spun in my mind as I walked. Kuru and ukuru worse. Something was wrong—ever since I had touched that mask... was that when it started? What did the Skrall know? I wanted to tell someone, but who would believe it? I was tired, that was all. It had been a long few days, full of strangeness and excitement. That must be it. I hoped so...

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. We didn’t get much work done—mostly tagging and storing various artifacts found around the site. I was itching to get back to the shrine, but Osphos was wary. He had sent couriers south to apprise our Quadrate contacts of the situation, but they wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Until then, we were stuck.

In the evening, Osphos sought me out. He had a bundle under one arm.

“Here, Lytus. I’d like you to keep this in your tent.”

It was the mask. My mouth was suddenly very dry.

“Is that, uh, necessary?”

“Maybe not, but I’m taking no chances. The Adherents aren’t getting any more patient. Neisa’s keeping some other artifacts, and I think I’ll sleep in the examination tent tonight, just in case.”

“You mean... with the body?”

“Don’t make it sound creepier than it is.”

“Sorry.”

He offered the mask. I took it. My fingers felt numb.

“Tell you what, we’ll take another pass at excavating the shrine in the morning, try to get to the bottom.”

“That’s great! I’ll have my gear ready.”

“Only one day left to go, so what have we got to lose, right?”

The mask felt heavier than I remembered.

* * *

I had the dream again that night, or something like it. A stairwell, a bright plain with two suns. A dark roaring... Then... Then something else. A dim enclosure. Fabric walls. A tent? I was lying on my back, and my limbs were bound tight. My face was covered, but not with heavy suffocating darkness like before. It was lightweight, like cloth. I struggled, I yelled. My words were meaningless again.

The tent-flap shook, like last time. I could hear it, the scraping, the grinding. It was trying to get in, but I couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything. The entrance parted, and there was darkness outside. Darkness on the ground, and in the darkness... now there was a crawling thing. Crawling, dragging itself through the dust, right up to the place where I lay. I could feel it. See it, even though my face was covered. Its flat eyes glowed, and its mouth was open. Grasping hands rose up toward me and searched, reached, searched—

I was standing in front of myself, seeing myself. I was stretched out beneath the covering, on the table. I was walking under stars, and my hands were full of something. I looked down and saw that I was holding my face. It looked up at me, up at the stars. I tried to put it back on, but it wasn’t my face anymore. It was glowing eyes and grasping hands, and a mouth grinding syllables and words. It was a shape under fabric, stretched out on a table in the dark, and I stood before it, holding its face... my face.

I clawed at the covering, trying to pull it off, but the noise was approaching again. The roaring, rolling noise, and my face... its face... my face was grinding alien sounds and alien words, and it was so dark in the stairwell, in the cold, heavy earth. So dark under the cloying wrap of fabric, so kuru it was, and ukuru worse, ai kuru, ai ukuru—

I awakened in a cold sweat and rolled over. My hands slid in sand, and a stinging thornbush brought me fully awake. I wasn’t in my cot. Wasn’t in my tent. How...? It was still nighttime, but there were lights in the encampment, and the sound of people running. I could hear voices. What was happening? I stumbled up, brushing dust from my face, and realized that I was in the space next to my own tent. I went to the entrance and looked inside. No one there. Then I looked out toward the center of the camp, trying to get my bearings.

A figure came out of the darkness, and I flinched as it grabbed my arm. It was Osphos. He was out of breath.

“Where is it, Lytus?” he hissed. “The body—it’s gone!”

“What, from the examination tent?”

“Yes that body, by Angon. Did you do something? I didn’t even hear...”

“N-no, of course not!”

“What about Neisa? Have you seen her?”

“I haven’t.”

“Have you seen anyone?!”

“No, I just woke up!”

“Adherents...” He ground his teeth. “Ah, the Quadrate will hear of this...”

“Wait—Are you sure?”

“Who else? It’s gone from the tent, but nothing else has been taken. I came right here once I realized. Where’s the mask? Has anyone been in your tent?” He pushed past me, through the entrance.

A crawling thing, a thing with glowing eyes, reaching out... but that wasn’t my tent, was it?

“N-no, no one,” I stammered.

“Where did you put it? I have to be sure.”

I moved to the back of the tent and opened my personal crate. The hinges creaked. “It’s right here, see?”

The mask was gone, wrapping and all. Osphos saw.

“Acta!” he cursed, and then let fly a string of imprecations, invoking the dream-eater and the death-mind, among others. “What, were you drugged or something?!”

“I don’t know... Osphos, I—” I tried to get it out. “I had a dream, or I thought it was a dream. I keep seeing things...”

“Spare me.” He stormed out of the tent, and I followed, feeling absolutely bewildered. There was too much happening, too fast.

“Go find Neisa,” Osphos ordered. “I’m heading back to the examination tent. Can you handle that?”

“Yes, boss.”

I snatched up a quartz-lantern and made my way across the encampment toward Neisa’s tent. Hers was the last tent on the outer ring of the camp. My lantern cast a pale glow over the ground as I went, and I could see that there were lights in the hills now, figures moving up and down the steppe. The rangers were likely combing the perimeter. I stopped for a moment to watch, then realized that I had stupidly lost track of which tent was which. Was Neisa on the east or the west side?

I backtracked. The tents all looked the same in the quartzlight. I took a different turn... and now found myself standing on the path that led out to the open part of the valley. Out toward the shrine.

There were footprints in the dirt. Very fresh. Hard-edged, square toe. Where had I seen that before? I looked up the path, raising the lantern. There was something else. I stepped forward to investigate. It was a heap of cloth, harak-cloth, in small strips. Further up the path, there was another bundle cast to the side.

I kept walking, quickening my pace. More bits of cloth here and there. More footprints. Soon, the edge of the shrine loomed ahead. I moved toward it, stepping gingerly through the rope-grids that were stretched over the ground. I made a circuit of the shrine, then I climbed up on top. I wasn’t even sure what I was looking for. I shed quartzlight all around, then I stooped to look into the stairwell. The dust on the stairs had recently been disturbed—

“Get down from there,” a voice said, and I whirled to see the towering figure of the Athori Tasius standing on the trail.

“You—” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“I have every right,” the Athori said, stepping forward. “Remove yourself from the sacred Amaja!”

I put up my hands appeasingly and complied, climbing back down to the ground and taking a few steps toward him.

“I saw footprints on the trail up here,” I said. “Were they yours?”

“On the trail? No. I came from the hills. I have been charged to keep watch over the Amaja, to make sure no one further contaminates the site.”

“Did you see anyone come here ahead of me?”

“No.”

“There’s been a theft in the camp,” I said. “Do you have anything to do with that?” I immediately regretted asking so directly.

“Theft?” The Athori’s eyes widened. “Theft of what?” He took another step toward me.

“Uh...”

“Tell me!”

“The mask! The... the Kanohi, you call it. Someone took it tonight.”

“What else?”

“Nothing,” I lied.

The Athori said a word that was foreign to me. Probably a curse. He looked back toward the camp. His hands were clenched.

“Listen,” I said, “it looks like someone has entered the shrine. It wasn’t you, was it?”

“I am forbidden, without the Tura,” he said.

“Well, I’ll need to check inside.” I took a step back toward the shrine. “It will only take a second. If you’ll just wait here—”

A heavy, armored grip fell on my shoulder and I was forcefully turned back around. The Athori was fast, and very strong.

“The Amaja will not be touched again,” his voice said, deadly serious. I could feel hot breath through the mouth-piece of his mask. “You and your people have brought rahi upon this place, but no more. Now, I—”

He stopped suddenly, and I felt his fingers seize. He was looking past me, up at the shrine. I turned slowly.

Glowing eyes. An ancient mask. A small figure stood upon the top of the shrine, unmoving. I could see it. The Athori could see it. It was no hallucination this time. Not a dream.

“M-manas!” the Athori croaked. “Get back!”

He shoved me to the side before I could say a word.

And then he burst into flame.

Real flame, like the elementals of old who had been devoured by the Great Beings’ wrath. I didn’t even have time to register shock or surprise before the heat washed over me. Instinctively I threw up my arms to protect myself.

“Stop!” I shouted, scrambling away. “You’ll damage the site! Stop it!”

The fire whirled up and resolved into a glowing nimbus around the Athori’s hands and head. He drew a strange tool from a slot in his armor, and aimed it at the figure atop the shrine.

“No!”

Something flew out of the dark—a whirling rope-like thing—and wrapped itself around Tasius’s burning face and neck. The ends of the bolas whirled for a split second before they snapped tight, and the loud clack of the weights meeting their target made my teeth hurt. The fire went out suddenly, and the scene plunged into darkness. I heard the tramp of feet on the path, and voices shouting. Quartzlight bobbed in the distance.

I was already up and over the top of the shrine before I knew what I was doing. The figure was gone. The opening of the stairwell yawned before me—cool dark after the furnace heat—and I was scrambling down the stairs, two at a time.

“Wait!” I shouted, but my voice was blunted on the stone. “Come back!”

Turn after turn I went. I wasn’t thinking straight. It was pitch-black. I should have grabbed my lantern, but I had dropped it. I realized my hands were burned. They stung when I touched the wall, feeling my way along. I stumbled, picked myself up, and then felt earth against my fingers. The wall of earth where we had stopped excavating. No one was here... Had I been mistaken? Had the figure not gone back into the shrine? Maybe it had run off...

There was light, I realized. It wasn’t pitch-black here. My eyes adjusted, and I saw with a shock that the earth wall wasn’t a wall anymore. It had been dug through, shoveled back and shored up into the walls of a narrow tunnel. When had the others done this? Why hadn’t they notified me? There were handprints in the dust, I noticed. Squared-off palm, five fingers.

Heedless, I push on, squeezing through the tunnel, wriggling on my chest. For a moment I thought I was stuck, and panic surged, but then I was through, and there was no more earth. No more dirt or sediment. The stairs on the other side were clear, pristine. We had been so close, after all.

The light was stronger here, filtering up from somewhere below me. Coming up out of the stone itself. I had been here before, hadn’t I? No, not possible. I had just come through the tunnel... and I was descending... or had I been ascending? My mind was... my mind was kuru, and... foggy... What was I doing here again? I was waiting for something, wasn’t I? Waiting for a roaring sound... a darkness to come and cover me. I had been here many times, in my dreams.

No, that had been before, long ago. This time it was different. I was descending, and the light was getting stronger. Another bend of the stairs, and then the stairs ended.

It was a round, level, circular room—just like the many others I had seen before. The first thing I noticed was the Pedestal. In shrines of this kind, there was usually a square pedestal at one end, surmounted by a face-like image. In later types, the image was the skull of an animal, usually a Spikit or an Ironwolf.

On this one, there was a mask. It was the mask. It was glowing, and the light was coming out of every surface. My heart was thudding.

I was not alone. The body lay in a heap on the ground before the pedestal. I could see scorch marks on its back and upper arms. I came closer and saw that it was moving slightly. Slow breaths. The eyes glowed faintly.

I touched it, gently, almost reverently. It was strange how my mind resisted the idea that this was no longer... remains... It was living, somehow. After all these eons, it was alive. The dim eyes shifted, fixed on me. The mouth moved, and the wedge-like shapes ground out their halting syllables and words, but I still could not understand.

How had it gotten the mask?

A crawling thing, with glowing eyes, searching, reaching.

A shape under fabric, stretched out on a table in the dark.

What was happening to me?

I was walking under stars. I was crawling, dragging through the dust. I was standing in front of myself, looking down at myself. I was holding my face in my hands. I was touching an ancient mask in a small, cramped space, and sparks were leaping into me. Its metal was cold against my fingers. The Kanohi are precious, I remembered. They connect us to the spirit of Mata...

It was dark all around. It was roaring. It was kuru, ai kuru, ai kuru ai—

A metal hand touched me weakly and brought me back to reality. The finger pointed up at the glowing mask atop the pedestal, and I understood. It needed the mask—its personal Kanochus.The mask had activated the shrine, but the circuit was incomplete. It needed the mask back, in order to accomplish whatever purpose it intended. Whatever purpose it had been kept from all those eons ago.

There was a noise on the stairs. Voices murmuring. The thud of metal on stone. How much time had passed? I had lost track. They would be looking for me. Hopefully the rangers had done their work.

“I’m here!” I shouted up. The voices continued. The hand gripped my arm again. The mouth ground out more words.

“I know,” I said.

I stood and pulled the mask off the pedestal. It sparked in my hands, and I felt a charge go through me... or maybe that feeling had already been there, ever since I touched the mask, days ago. Something had been clinging to me. I felt it now. Something intangible, something in my thoughts and my dreams. I had joked about trapped souls to Neisa, but now I wasn’t so sure...

The light increased. I bent toward the body... not just a body—toward the Matoran... and—

A wave of heat rushed down the stairwell, and a burning smell filled the chamber. I froze, and fear surged in my chest as I turned my head to look.

It was the old Skrall. He was standing on the stairs, leaning on his staff. His eyes were sharp behind his mask, and somewhere in the back of my mind it clicked, that although the masks of the Adherents were clearly forged like the one I now held, they were subtly different, like a picture whose original reference had been lost. A copy of a copy of a copy...

“Hold a moment,” the Skrall said urgently. “You stand on sacred ground. Disturb not the machines of the Great Beings.”

“I don’t know what that means.” I stood up and turned around slowly. The Skrall’s eyes widened as he saw what I was holding... and what was slumped behind me.

“That Kanohi...” he hissed, descending another step. “It is meant for the Children of Mata alone. You must give it to me—it is not for you to touch!”

“I’ve already touched it. It has... shown me things. Things I don’t understand.”

The Skrall’s breath hissed in his mask.

“Give it to me, and all shall be restored to unity.”

“It’s not yours. It belongs to... to this one.” I pointed at the Matoran. The dim eyes looked at the wizened elder, but the Skrall averted his gaze.

“This is not in accord with our canons,” he intoned.

“I don’t—”

“Such things only lead to greater kuru.”

I was on a stairway. I was on a great open plain, beneath two suns. My face was covered, but it was not my face. Not anymore. It belonged to someone else.

“You’re wrong.” I held the mask close.

“The canon shall not be denied, nor shall it be mocked. Give me the mask.”

The Skrall was not alone now. Another figure moved into the stairwell behind him. A cracked and broken mask, a bruised and bloodied face. More heat poured into the chamber as the Athori Tasius descended, eyes still glowing with fire.

I shrank back to the pedestal, and the lights of the shrine brightened further. The Matoran moved pitifully. We were trapped. The pedestal was humming. Waiting.

Waiting.

The Athori was moving, hindered by the small opening. His armored hand reached out at me, white-hot.

But I had already placed the mask on the Matoran’s face, and the charge that I had felt in my body went out of me... back into the mask, into the Matoran.

And the shrine was blazing white with light, and the pedestal was retracting into the wall. And the Skrall was staggering back onto the stairs, eyes raving. And the Athori was still moving forward, overbalanced, tipping forward into suddenly empty space.

The walls were pulled back and then were gone as the bottom of the shrine became a circular platform and dropped down, down into pitch-black. The stairwell shrank into the distance above us, and I saw the Athori hang for a moment, glowing with heat. Then he fell, whirling like a fiery meteor, right past the edge of the descending platform and away into the greater dark.

Gone.

A few moments passed, maybe longer. I sank down on the platform, exhausted and spent. The Matoran was sitting next to me. It reached out and gripped my shoulder with its metal hand. Its eyes were glowing bright again, and the light in its chest blinked steadily, despite the corrosion and scorch-marks that covered the rest of its body. It looked at me, and its mouth shifted into a different configuration.

I think it was smiling.

Cold air rushed past us as we fell onward, onward into unknown. I don’t know how long we spent in that smooth descent. I looked up and saw nothing above, and nothing on either side. I wondered if I would ever see the surface again, if I would ever have a chance to tell someone. I wondered what was happened or had happened in the camp. I wondered if anyone else but the two Adherents knew what had happened to me, to the mask, to the Matoran...

Except for the light of the platform beneath us, it was dark all around. Featureless, unbroken dark.

“Kuru,” I said aloud, unbidden, remembering the word.

“Ha te ai kuru,” my companion replied, nodding.

I shivered and rubbed my arms.

“Ukuru,” I said.

“Ru,” it replied, standing up. “Ru te aikuru. Akuya.”

The Matoran went to the edge of the platform—too close for my comfort—and pointed out into the surrounding dark.

“Akuya,” it said, and gestured at my... my eyes. My aku. Look. It beckoned me and pointed again. And hesitating, shivering, I rose and went to where it stood, and looked out. And I saw:

Rising up over us, ascending as we descended into the depths of Spherus Magna... Deeper than any excavation could reach, deeper than the catacombs of lost Atero, or the mass tombs of the Glatori hosts, farther and deeper than the silo-vaults of the Great Beings, or the maze-labyrinths of Old Skralla, or the vast mutated seabeds of Old Spherus... Far beyond the reach of Quadrates or Adherencies, of charters or canons...

Past the unknown dark, the aikuru...

There were stars, and two suns rising.

#bionicle #art #writing #fanfiction #works #outofgloom #spherus magna

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blueiscoool · 2 years ago

Photo

2,000-Year-Old Iron Age Hoard Discovered Wales

Searching a field in Wales, a man with a metal detector stumbled upon an artifact buried 2,000 years ago — then he found another.

Metal detectorist Jon Matthews was exploring a pasture in Llantrisant Fawr in March 2019 when he found something, the National Museum Wales said in an April 28 news release shared with McClatchy News.

Matthews dug up the artifact and quickly realized there was a collection of buried treasures, Adelle Bricking, an archaeologist who worked on the excavation, wrote on Twitter. He contacted local archaeological authorities who excavated the area.

Archaeologists identified the 2,000-year-old treasures as Iron Age and ancient Roman pottery vessels, the release said. Eight objects, including two complete pieces, were unearthed from the field.

The artifacts were likely buried together “around the time of the Roman conquest, in the second half of the first century A.D.,” the release said.

One artifact included an ox head bowl handle, photos show. The blue-green metal design has a wide-eyed ox with bowed horns. His lower lip or jaw extends outward into the handle-like loop.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Matthews told Wales Online. “I didn’t think our ancestors could make such a beautiful, beautiful thing. I was quite shocked.”

The excavation team nicknamed the ox “Bovril,” Bricking said. “Imagine our surprise when we flicked off the mud and exposed Bovril’s adorable little face!!!” she wrote.

Excavations also unearthed fragments of two wooden barrels, “an Iron Age bucket with copper alloy fittings; an Iron Age copper alloy... cauldron and strainer; and two Roman copper alloy saucepans,” experts said.

Photos show the ancient Roman saucepan and broken handle.

A pair of metal bucket mounts found at the site have a swirling orange-black design on them, photos show. Other photos show the worn wooden bucket with two rows of metal fittings along the edge.

“I feel honored to have found something so unique that is linked to Wales and our ancestors,” Matthews said in the news release.

The National Museum Wales is interested in acquiring the artifacts after an independent committee has assessed their value, the release said.

Llantrisant Fawr is about 135 miles northwest of London.

By Aspen Pflughoeft.

#2000-Year-Old Iron Age Hoard Discovered Wales #metal detecting #archeology #archeolgst #ancient artifacts #history #history news #ancient history #ancient culture #ancient civilizations #roman history #roman empire

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hellsitesonlybookclub · 2 years ago

Text

Little Women, Louisa May Alcott

Chapter 26-27

XXVI.

ARTISTIC ATTEMPTS.

It takes people a long time to learn the difference between talent and genius, especially ambitious young men and women. Amy was learning this distinction through much tribulation; for, mistaking enthusiasm for inspiration, she attempted every branch of art with youthful audacity. For a long time there was a lull in the "mud-pie" business, and she devoted herself to the finest pen-and-ink drawing, in which she showed such taste and skill that her graceful handiwork proved both pleasant and profitable. But overstrained eyes soon caused pen and ink to be laid aside for a bold attempt at poker-sketching. While this attack lasted, the family lived in constant fear of a conflagration; for the odor of burning wood pervaded the house at 314 all hours; smoke issued from attic and shed with alarming frequency, red-hot pokers lay about promiscuously, and Hannah never went to bed without a pail of water and the dinner-bell at her door, in case of fire. Raphael's face was found boldly executed on the under side of the moulding-board, and Bacchus on the head of a beer-barrel; a chanting cherub adorned the cover of the sugar-bucket, and attempts to portray Romeo and Juliet supplied kindlings for some time.

From fire to oil was a natural transition for burnt fingers, and Amy fell to painting with undiminished ardor. An artist friend fitted her out with his cast-off palettes, brushes, and colors; and she daubed away, producing pastoral and marine views such as were never seen on land or sea. Her monstrosities in the way of cattle would have taken prizes at an agricultural fair; and the perilous pitching of her vessels would have produced sea-sickness in the most nautical observer, if the utter disregard to all known rules of shipbuilding and rigging had not convulsed him with laughter at the first glance. Swarthy boys and dark-eyed Madonnas, staring at you from one corner of the studio, suggested Murillo; oily-brown shadows of faces, with a lurid streak in the wrong place, meant Rembrandt; buxom ladies and dropsical infants, Rubens; and Turner appeared in tempests of blue thunder, orange lightning, brown rain, and purple clouds, with a tomato-colored splash in the middle, which might be the sun or a buoy, a sailor's shirt or a king's robe, as the spectator pleased.

Charcoal portraits came next; and the entire family hung in a row, looking as wild and crocky as if just evoked from a coal-bin. Softened into crayon sketches, they did better; for the likenesses were good, and Amy's hair, Jo's nose, Meg's mouth, and Laurie's eyes were pronounced "wonderfully fine." A return to clay and plaster followed, and ghostly casts of her acquaintances haunted corners of the house, or tumbled off closet-shelves on to people's heads. Children were enticed in as models, till their incoherent accounts of her mysterious doings caused Miss Amy to be regarded in the light of a young ogress. Her efforts in this line, however, were brought to an abrupt close by an untoward accident, which quenched her ardor. Other models failing her for a time, she undertook to cast her own 315 pretty foot, and the family were one day alarmed by an unearthly bumping and screaming, and running to the rescue, found the young enthusiast hopping wildly about the shed, with her foot held fast in a pan-full of plaster, which had hardened with unexpected rapidity. With much difficulty and some danger she was dug out; for Jo was so overcome with laughter while she excavated, that her knife went too far, cut the poor foot, and left a lasting memorial of one artistic attempt, at least.

After this Amy subsided, till a mania for sketching from nature set her to haunting river, field, and wood, for picturesque studies, and sighing for ruins to copy. She caught endless colds sitting on damp grass to book "a delicious bit," composed of a stone, a stump, one mushroom, and a broken mullein-stalk, or "a heavenly mass of clouds," that looked like a choice display of feather-beds when done. She sacrificed her complexion floating on the river in the midsummer sun, to study light and shade, and got a wrinkle over her nose, trying after "points of sight," or whatever the squint-and-string performance is called.

If "genius is eternal patience," as Michael Angelo affirms, Amy certainly had some claim to the divine attribute, for she persevered in spite of all obstacles, failures, and discouragements, firmly believing that in time she should do something worthy to be called "high art."

316 She was learning, doing, and enjoying other things, meanwhile, for she had resolved to be an attractive and accomplished woman, even if she never became a great artist. Here she succeeded better; for she was one of those happily created beings who please without effort, make friends everywhere, and take life so gracefully and easily that less fortunate souls are tempted to believe that such are born under a lucky star. Everybody liked her, for among her good gifts was tact. She had an instinctive sense of what was pleasing and proper, always said the right thing to the right person, did just what suited the time and place, and was so self-possessed that her sisters used to say, "If Amy went to court without any rehearsal beforehand, she'd know exactly what to do."

One of her weaknesses was a desire to move in "our best society," without being quite sure what the best really was. Money, position, fashionable accomplishments, and elegant manners were most desirable things in her eyes, and she liked to associate with those who possessed them, often mistaking the false for the true, and admiring what was not admirable. Never forgetting that by birth she was a gentlewoman, she cultivated her aristocratic tastes and feelings, so that when the opportunity came she might be ready to take the place from which poverty now excluded her.

"My lady," as her friends called her, sincerely desired to be a genuine lady, and was so at heart, but had yet to learn that money cannot buy refinement of nature, that rank does not always confer nobility, and that true breeding makes itself felt in spite of external drawbacks.

"I want to ask a favor of you, mamma," Amy said, coming in, with an important air, one day.

"Well, little girl, what is it?" replied her mother, in whose eyes the stately young lady still remained "the baby."

"Our drawing class breaks up next week, and before the girls separate for the summer, I want to ask them out here for a day. They are wild to see the river, sketch the broken bridge, and copy some of the things they admire in my book. They have been very kind to me in many ways, and I am grateful, for they are all rich, and know I am poor, yet they never made any difference."

"Why should they?" and Mrs. March put the question with what the girls called her "Maria Theresa air."

317 "You know as well as I that it does make a difference with nearly every one, so don't ruffle up, like a dear, motherly hen, when your chickens get pecked by smarter birds; the ugly duckling turned out a swan, you know;" and Amy smiled without bitterness, for she possessed a happy temper and hopeful spirit.

Mrs. March laughed, and smoothed down her maternal pride as she asked,—

"Well, my swan, what is your plan?"

"I should like to ask the girls out to lunch next week, to take them a drive to the places they want to see, a row on the river, perhaps, and make a little artistic fête for them."

"That looks feasible. What do you want for lunch? Cake, sandwiches, fruit, and coffee will be all that is necessary, I suppose?"

"Oh dear, no! we must have cold tongue and chicken, French chocolate and ice-cream, besides. The girls are used to such things, and I want my lunch to be proper and elegant, though I do work for my living."

"How many young ladies are there?" asked her mother, beginning to look sober.

"Twelve or fourteen in the class, but I dare say they won't all come."

"Bless me, child, you will have to charter an omnibus to carry them about."

"Why, mother, how can you think of such a thing? Not more than six or eight will probably come, so I shall hire a beach-wagon, and borrow Mr. Laurence's cherry-bounce." (Hannah's pronunciation of char-à-banc.)

"All this will be expensive, Amy."

"Not very; I've calculated the cost, and I'll pay for it myself."

"Don't you think, dear, that as these girls are used to such things, and the best we can do will be nothing new, that some simpler plan would be pleasanter to them, as a change, if nothing more, and much better for us than buying or borrowing what we don't need, and attempting a style not in keeping with our circumstances?"

"If I can't have it as I like, I don't care to have it at all. I know that I can carry it out perfectly well, if you and the girls will help a 318 little; and I don't see why I can't if I'm willing to pay for it," said Amy, with the decision which opposition was apt to change into obstinacy.

Mrs. March knew that experience was an excellent teacher, and when it was possible she left her children to learn alone the lessons which she would gladly have made easier, if they had not objected to taking advice as much as they did salts and senna.

"Very well, Amy; if your heart is set upon it, and you see your way through without too great an outlay of money, time, and temper, I'll say no more. Talk it over with the girls, and whichever way you decide, I'll do my best to help you."

"Thanks, mother; you are always so kind;" and away went Amy to lay her plan before her sisters.

Meg agreed at once, and promised her aid, gladly offering anything she possessed, from her little house itself to her very best salt-spoons. But Jo frowned upon the whole project, and would have nothing to do with it at first.

"Why in the world should you spend your money, worry your family, and turn the house upside down for a parcel of girls who don't care a sixpence for you? I thought you had too much pride and sense to truckle to any mortal woman just because she wears French boots and rides in a coupé," said Jo, who, being called from the tragical climax of her novel, was not in the best mood for social enterprises.

"I don't truckle, and I hate being patronized as much as you do!" returned Amy indignantly, for the two still jangled when such questions arose. "The girls do care for me, and I for them, and there's a great deal of kindness and sense and talent among them, in spite of what you call fashionable nonsense. You don't care to make people like you, to go into good society, and cultivate your manners and tastes. I do, and I mean to make the most of every chance that comes. You can go through the world with your elbows out and your nose in the air, and call it independence, if you like. That's not my way."

When Amy whetted her tongue and freed her mind she usually got the best of it, for she seldom failed to have common sense on her 319 side, while Jo carried her love of liberty and hate of conventionalities to such an unlimited extent that she naturally found herself worsted in an argument. Amy's definition of Jo's idea of independence was such a good hit that both burst out laughing, and the discussion took a more amiable turn. Much against her will, Jo at length consented to sacrifice a day to Mrs. Grundy, and help her sister through what she regarded as "a nonsensical business."

The invitations were sent, nearly all accepted, and the following Monday was set apart for the grand event. Hannah was out of humor because her week's work was deranged, and prophesied that "ef the washin' and ironin' warn't done reg'lar nothin' would go well anywheres." This hitch in the mainspring of the domestic machinery had a bad effect upon the whole concern; but Amy's motto was "Nil desperandum," and having made up her mind what to do, she proceeded to do it in spite of all obstacles. To begin with, Hannah's cooking didn't turn out well: the chicken was tough, the tongue too salt, and the chocolate wouldn't froth properly. Then the cake and ice cost more than Amy expected, so did the wagon; and various other expenses, which seemed trifling at the outset, counted up rather alarmingly afterward. Beth got cold and took to her bed, Meg had an unusual number of callers to keep her at home, and Jo was in such a divided state of mind that her breakages, accidents, and mistakes were uncommonly numerous, serious, and trying.

"If it hadn't been for mother I never should have got through," as Amy declared afterward, and gratefully remembered when "the best joke of the season" was entirely forgotten by everybody else.

If it was not fair on Monday, the young ladies were to come on Tuesday,—an arrangement which aggravated Jo and Hannah to the last degree. On Monday morning the weather was in that undecided state which is more exasperating than a steady pour. It drizzled a little, shone a little, blew a little, and didn't make up its mind till it was too late for any one else to make up theirs. Amy was up at dawn, hustling people out of their beds and through their breakfasts, that the house might be got in order. The parlor struck her as looking uncommonly shabby; but without stopping to sigh for what she had not, she skilfully made the best of what she had, arranging chairs over the 320 worn places in the carpet, covering stains on the walls with pictures framed in ivy, and filling up empty corners with home-made statuary, which gave an artistic air to the room, as did the lovely vases of flowers Jo scattered about.

The lunch looked charmingly; and as she surveyed it, she sincerely hoped it would taste well, and that the borrowed glass, china, and silver would get safely home again. The carriages were promised, Meg and mother were all ready to do the honors, Beth was able to help Hannah behind the scenes, Jo had engaged to be as lively and amiable as an absent mind, an aching head, and a very decided disapproval of everybody and everything would allow, and, as she wearily dressed, Amy cheered herself with anticipations of the happy moment, when, lunch safely over, she should drive away with her friends for an afternoon of artistic delights; for the "cherry-bounce" and the broken bridge were her strong points.

Then came two hours of suspense, during which she vibrated from parlor to porch, while public opinion varied like the weathercock. A smart shower at eleven had evidently quenched the enthusiasm of the young ladies who were to arrive at twelve, for nobody came; and at two the exhausted family sat down in a blaze of sunshine to consume the perishable portions of the feast, that nothing might be lost.

"No doubt about the weather to-day; they will certainly come, so we must fly round and be ready for them," said Amy, as the sun woke her next morning. She spoke briskly, but in her secret soul she wished she had said nothing about Tuesday, for her interest, like her cake, was getting a little stale.

"I can't get any lobsters, so you will have to do without salad to-day," said Mr. March, coming in half an hour later, with an expression of placid despair.

"Use the chicken, then; the toughness won't matter in a salad," advised his wife.

"Hannah left it on the kitchen-table a minute, and the kittens got at it. I'm very sorry, Amy," added Beth, who was still a patroness of cats.

"Then I must have a lobster, for tongue alone won't do," said Amy decidedly.

321 "Shall I rush into town and demand one?" asked Jo, with the magnanimity of a martyr.

"You'd come bringing it home under your arm, without any paper, just to try me. I'll go myself," answered Amy, whose temper was beginning to fail.

Shrouded in a thick veil and armed with a genteel travelling-basket, she departed, feeling that a cool drive would soothe her ruffled spirit, and fit her for the labors of the day. After some delay, the object of her desire was procured, likewise a bottle of dressing, to prevent further loss of time at home, and off she drove again, well pleased with her own forethought.

As the omnibus contained only one other passenger, a sleepy old lady, Amy pocketed her veil, and beguiled the tedium of the way by trying to find out where all her money had gone to. So busy was she with her card full of refractory figures that she did not observe a new-comer, who entered without stopping the vehicle, till a masculine voice said, "Good-morning, Miss March," and, looking up, she beheld one of Laurie's most elegant college friends. Fervently hoping that he would get out before she did, Amy utterly ignored the basket at her feet, and, congratulating herself that she had on her new travelling dress, returned the young man's greeting with her usual suavity and spirit.

They got on excellently; for Amy's chief care was soon set at rest by learning that the gentleman would leave first, and she was chatting away in a peculiarly lofty strain, when the old lady got out. In stumbling to the door, she upset the basket, and—oh, horror!—the lobster, in all its vulgar size and brilliancy, was revealed to the highborn eyes of a Tudor.

"By Jove, she's forgotten her dinner!" cried the unconscious youth, poking the scarlet monster into its place with his cane, and preparing to hand out the basket after the old lady.

"Please don't—it's—it's mine," murmured Amy, with a face nearly as red as her fish.

"Oh, really, I beg pardon; it's an uncommonly fine one, isn't it?" said Tudor, with great presence of mind, and an air of sober interest that did credit to his breeding.

322 Amy recovered herself in a breath, set her basket boldly on the seat, and said, laughing,—

"Don't you wish you were to have some of the salad he's to make, and to see the charming young ladies who are to eat it?"

Now that was tact, for two of the ruling foibles of the masculine mind were touched: the lobster was instantly surrounded by a halo of pleasing reminiscences, and curiosity about "the charming young ladies" diverted his mind from the comical mishap.

"I suppose he'll laugh and joke over it with Laurie, but I sha'n't see them; that's a comfort," thought Amy, as Tudor bowed and departed.

She did not mention this meeting at home (though she discovered that, thanks to the upset, her new dress was much damaged by the rivulets of dressing that meandered down the skirt), but went through with the preparations which now seemed more irksome than before; and at twelve o'clock all was ready again. Feeling that the neighbors were interested in her movements, she wished to efface the memory 323 of yesterday's failure by a grand success to-day; so she ordered the "cherry-bounce," and drove away in state to meet and escort her guests to the banquet.

"There's the rumble, they're coming! I'll go into the porch to meet them; it looks hospitable, and I want the poor child to have a good time after all her trouble," said Mrs. March, suiting the action to the word. But after one glance, she retired, with an indescribable expression, for, looking quite lost in the big carriage, sat Amy and one young lady.

"Run, Beth, and help Hannah clear half the things off the table; it will be too absurd to put a luncheon for twelve before a single girl," cried Jo, hurrying away to the lower regions, too excited to stop even for a laugh.

In came Amy, quite calm, and delightfully cordial to the one guest who had kept her promise; the rest of the family, being of a dramatic turn, played their parts equally well, and Miss Eliott found them a most hilarious set; for it was impossible to entirely control the merriment which possessed them. The remodelled lunch being gayly partaken of, the studio and garden visited, and art discussed with enthusiasm, Amy ordered a buggy (alas for the elegant cherry-bounce!) and drove her friend quietly about the neighborhood till sunset, when "the party went out."

As she came walking in, looking very tired, but as composed as ever, she observed that every vestige of the unfortunate fête had disappeared, except a suspicious pucker about the corners of Jo's mouth.

"You've had a lovely afternoon for your drive, dear," said her mother, as respectfully as if the whole twelve had come.

"Miss Eliott is a very sweet girl, and seemed to enjoy herself, I thought," observed Beth, with unusual warmth.

"Could you spare me some of your cake? I really need some, I have so much company, and I can't make such delicious stuff as yours," asked Meg soberly.

"Take it all; I'm the only one here who likes sweet things, and it will mould before I can dispose of it," answered Amy, thinking with a sigh of the generous store she had laid in for such an end as this.

324 "It's a pity Laurie isn't here to help us," began Jo, as they sat down to ice-cream and salad for the second time in two days.

A warning look from her mother checked any further remarks, and the whole family ate in heroic silence, till Mr. March mildly observed, "Salad was one of the favorite dishes of the ancients, and Evelyn"—here a general explosion of laughter cut short the "history of sallets," to the great surprise of the learned gentleman.

"Bundle everything into a basket and send it to the Hummels: Germans like messes. I'm sick of the sight of this; and there's no reason you should all die of a surfeit because I've been a fool," cried Amy, wiping her eyes.

"I thought I should have died when I saw you two girls rattling about in the what-you-call-it, like two little kernels in a very big nutshell, and mother waiting in state to receive the throng," sighed Jo, quite spent with laughter.

"I'm very sorry you were disappointed, dear, but we all did our best to satisfy you," said Mrs. March, in a tone full of motherly regret.

"I am satisfied; I've done what I undertook, and it's not my fault that it failed; I comfort myself with that," said Amy, with a little quiver in her voice. "I thank you all very much for helping me, and I'll thank you still more if you won't allude to it for a month, at least."

No one did for several months; but the word "fête" always produced a general smile, and Laurie's birthday gift to Amy was a tiny coral lobster in the shape of a charm for her watch-guard.

XXVII. Literary Lessons.

325

XXVII.

LITERARY LESSONS.

Fortune suddenly smiled upon Jo, and dropped a good-luck penny in her path. Not a golden penny, exactly, but I doubt if half a million would have given more real happiness than did the little sum that came to her in this wise.

Every few weeks she would shut herself up in her room, put on her scribbling suit, and "fall into a vortex," as she expressed it, writing away at her novel with all her heart and soul, for till that was finished she could find no peace. Her "scribbling suit" consisted of a black woollen pinafore on which she could wipe her pen at will, and a cap 326 of the same material, adorned with a cheerful red bow, into which she bundled her hair when the decks were cleared for action. This cap was a beacon to the inquiring eyes of her family, who during these periods kept their distance, merely popping in their heads semi-occasionally, to ask, with interest, "Does genius burn, Jo?" They did not always venture even to ask this question, but took an observation of the cap, and judged accordingly. If this expressive article of dress was drawn low upon the forehead, it was a sign that hard work was going on; in exciting moments it was pushed rakishly askew; and when despair seized the author it was plucked wholly off, and cast upon the floor. At such times the intruder silently withdrew; and not until the red bow was seen gayly erect upon the gifted brow, did any one dare address Jo.

She did not think herself a genius by any means; but when the writing fit came on, she gave herself up to it with entire abandon, and led a blissful life, unconscious of want, care, or bad weather, while she sat safe and happy in an imaginary world, full of friends almost as real and dear to her as any in the flesh. Sleep forsook her eyes, meals stood untasted, day and night were all too short to enjoy the happiness which blessed her only at such times, and made these hours worth living, even if they bore no other fruit. The divine afflatus usually lasted a week or two, and then she emerged from her "vortex," hungry, sleepy, cross, or despondent.

She was just recovering from one of these attacks when she was prevailed upon to escort Miss Crocker to a lecture, and in return for her virtue was rewarded with a new idea. It was a People's Course, the lecture on the Pyramids, and Jo rather wondered at the choice of such a subject for such an audience, but took it for granted that some great social evil would be remedied or some great want supplied by unfolding the glories of the Pharaohs to an audience whose thoughts were busy with the price of coal and flour, and whose lives were spent in trying to solve harder riddles than that of the Sphinx.

They were early; and while Miss Crocker set the heel of her stocking, Jo amused herself by examining the faces of the people who occupied the seat with them. On her left were two matrons, with massive foreheads, and bonnets to match, discussing Woman's Rights 327 and making tatting. Beyond sat a pair of humble lovers, artlessly holding each other by the hand, a sombre spinster eating peppermints out of a paper bag, and an old gentleman taking his preparatory nap behind a yellow bandanna. On her right, her only neighbor was a studious-looking lad absorbed in a newspaper.

It was a pictorial sheet, and Jo examined the work of art nearest her, idly wondering what unfortuitous concatenation of circumstances needed the melodramatic illustration of an Indian in full war costume, tumbling over a precipice with a wolf at his throat, while two infuriated young gentlemen, with unnaturally small feet and big eyes, were stabbing each other close by, and a dishevelled female was flying away in the background with her mouth wide open. Pausing to turn a page, the lad saw her looking, and, with boyish good-nature, offered half his paper, saying bluntly, "Want to read it? That's a first-rate story."

Jo accepted it with a smile, for she had never outgrown her liking for lads, and soon found herself involved in the usual labyrinth of love, mystery, and murder, for the story belonged to that class of light literature in which the passions have a holiday, and when the author's invention fails, a grand catastrophe clears the stage of one half the dramatis personæ, leaving the other half to exult over their downfall.

"Prime, isn't it?" asked the boy, as her eye went down the last paragraph of her portion.

"I think you and I could do as well as that if we tried," returned Jo, amused at his admiration of the trash.

"I should think I was a pretty lucky chap if I could. She makes a good living out of such stories, they say;" and he pointed to the name of Mrs. S. L. A. N. G. Northbury, under the title of the tale.

"Do you know her?" asked Jo, with sudden interest.

"No; but I read all her pieces, and I know a fellow who works in the office where this paper is printed."

"Do you say she makes a good living out of stories like this?" and Jo looked more respectfully at the agitated group and thickly-sprinkled exclamation-points that adorned the page.

"Guess she does! She knows just what folks like, and gets paid well for writing it."

328 Here the lecture began, but Jo heard very little of it, for while Prof. Sands was prosing away about Belzoni, Cheops, scarabei, and hieroglyphics, she was covertly taking down the address of the paper, and boldly resolving to try for the hundred-dollar prize offered in its columns for a sensational story. By the time the lecture ended and the audience awoke, she had built up a splendid fortune for herself (not the first founded upon paper), and was already deep in the concoction of her story, being unable to decide whether the duel should come before the elopement or after the murder.

She said nothing of her plan at home, but fell to work next day, much to the disquiet of her mother, who always looked a little anxious when "genius took to burning." Jo had never tried this style before, contenting herself with very mild romances for the "Spread Eagle." Her theatrical experience and miscellaneous reading were of service now, for they gave her some idea of dramatic effect, and supplied plot, language, and costumes. Her story was as full of desperation and despair as her limited acquaintance with those uncomfortable emotions enabled her to make it, and, having located it in Lisbon, she wound up with an earthquake, as a striking and appropriate dénouement. The manuscript was privately despatched, accompanied by a note, modestly saying that if the tale didn't get the prize, which the writer hardly dared expect, she would be very glad to receive any sum it might be considered worth.

Six weeks is a long time to wait, and a still longer time for a girl to keep a secret; but Jo did both, and was just beginning to give up all hope of ever seeing her manuscript again, when a letter arrived which almost took her breath away; for on opening it, a check for a hundred dollars fell into her lap. For a minute she stared at it as if it had been a snake, then she read her letter and began to cry. If the amiable gentleman who wrote that kindly note could have known what intense happiness he was giving a fellow-creature, I think he would devote his leisure hours, if he has any, to that amusement; for Jo valued the letter more than the money, because it was encouraging; and after years of effort it was so pleasant to find that she had learned to do something, though it was only to write a sensation story.

A prouder young woman was seldom seen than she, when, having 329 composed herself, she electrified the family by appearing before them with the letter in one hand, the check in the other, announcing that she had won the prize. Of course there was a great jubilee, and when the story came every one read and praised it; though after her father had told her that the language was good, the romance fresh and hearty, and the tragedy quite thrilling, he shook his head, and said in his unworldly way,—

"You can do better than this, Jo. Aim at the highest, and never mind the money."

"I think the money is the best part of it. What will you do with such a fortune?" asked Amy, regarding the magic slip of paper with a reverential eye.

"Send Beth and mother to the seaside for a month or two," answered Jo promptly.

"Oh, how splendid! No, I can't do it, dear, it would be so selfish," cried Beth, who had clapped her thin hands, and taken a long breath, as if pining for fresh ocean-breezes; then stopped herself, and motioned away the check which her sister waved before her.

"Ah, but you shall go, I've set my heart on it; that's what I tried for, and that's why I succeeded. I never get on when I think of myself alone, so it will help me to work for you, don't you see? Besides, Marmee needs the change, and she won't leave you, so you must go. Won't it be fun to see you come home plump and rosy again? Hurrah for Dr. Jo, who always cures her patients!"

To the sea side they went, after much discussion; and though Beth didn't come home as plump and rosy as could be desired, she was 330 much better, while Mrs. March declared she felt ten years younger; so Jo was satisfied with the investment of her prize money, and fell to work with a cheery spirit, bent on earning more of those delightful checks. She did earn several that year, and began to feel herself a power in the house; for by the magic of a pen, her "rubbish" turned into comforts for them all. "The Duke's Daughter" paid the butcher's bill, "A Phantom Hand" put down a new carpet, and the "Curse of the Coventrys" proved the blessing of the Marches in the way of groceries and gowns.

Wealth is certainly a most desirable thing, but poverty has its sunny side, and one of the sweet uses of adversity is the genuine satisfaction which comes from hearty work of head or hand; and to the inspiration of necessity, we owe half the wise, beautiful, and useful blessings of the world. Jo enjoyed a taste of this satisfaction, and ceased to envy richer girls, taking great comfort in the knowledge that she could supply her own wants, and need ask no one for a penny.

Little notice was taken of her stories, but they found a market; and, encouraged by this fact, she resolved to make a bold stroke for fame and fortune. Having copied her novel for the fourth time, read it to all her confidential friends, and submitted it with fear and trembling to three publishers, she at last disposed of it, on condition that she would cut it down one third, and omit all the parts which she particularly admired.

"Now I must either bundle it back into my tin-kitchen to mould, pay for printing it myself, or chop it up to suit purchasers, and get what I can for it. Fame is a very good thing to have in the house, but cash is more convenient; so I wish to take the sense of the meeting on this important subject," said Jo, calling a family council.

"Don't spoil your book, my girl, for there is more in it than you know, and the idea is well worked out. Let it wait and ripen," was her father's advice; and he practised as he preached, having waited patiently thirty years for fruit of his own to ripen, and being in no haste to gather it, even now, when it was sweet and mellow.

"It seems to me that Jo will profit more by making the trial than by waiting," said Mrs. March. "Criticism is the best test of such work, for it will show her both unsuspected merits and faults, and help her to do better next time. We are too partial; but the praise and 331 blame of outsiders will prove useful, even if she gets but little money."

"Yes," said Jo, knitting her brows, "that's just it; I've been fussing over the thing so long, I really don't know whether it's good, bad, or indifferent. It will be a great help to have cool, impartial persons take a look at it, and tell me what they think of it."

"I wouldn't leave out a word of it; you'll spoil it if you do, for the interest of the story is more in the minds than in the actions of the people, and it will be all a muddle if you don't explain as you go on," said Meg, who firmly believed that this book was the most remarkable novel ever written.

"But Mr. Allen says, 'Leave out the explanations, make it brief and dramatic, and let the characters tell the story,'" interrupted Jo, turning to the publisher's note.

"Do as he tells you; he knows what will sell, and we don't. Make a good, popular book, and get as much money as you can. By and by, when, you've got a name, you can afford to digress, and have philosophical and metaphysical people in your novels," said Amy, who took a strictly practical view of the subject.

"Well," said Jo, laughing, "if my people are 'philosophical and metaphysical,' it isn't my fault, for I know nothing about such things, except what I hear father say, sometimes. If I've got some of his wise ideas jumbled up with my romance, so much the better for me. Now, Beth, what do you say?"

"I should so like to see it printed soon," was all Beth said, and smiled in saying it; but there was an unconscious emphasis on the last word, and a wistful look in the eyes that never lost their childlike candor, which chilled Jo's heart, for a minute, with a foreboding fear, and decided her to make her little venture "soon."

So, with Spartan firmness, the young authoress laid her first-born on her table, and chopped it up as ruthlessly as any ogre. In the hope of pleasing every one, she took every one's advice; and, like the old man and his donkey in the fable, suited nobody.

Her father liked the metaphysical streak which had unconsciously got into it; so that was allowed to remain, though she had her doubts about it. Her mother thought that there was a trifle too much 332 description; out, therefore, it nearly all came, and with it many necessary links in the story. Meg admired the tragedy; so Jo piled up the agony to suit her, while Amy objected to the fun, and, with the best intentions in life, Jo quenched the sprightly scenes which relieved the sombre character of the story. Then, to complete the ruin, she cut it down one third, and confidingly sent the poor little romance, like a picked robin, out into the big, busy world, to try its fate.

Well, it was printed, and she got three hundred dollars for it; likewise plenty of praise and blame, both so much greater than she expected that she was thrown into a state of bewilderment, from which it took her some time to recover.

"You said, mother, that criticism would help me; but how can it, when it's so contradictory that I don't know whether I've written a promising book or broken all the ten commandments?" cried poor Jo, turning over a heap of notices, the perusal of which filled her with pride and joy one minute, wrath and dire dismay the next. "This man says 'An exquisite book, full of truth, beauty, and earnestness; all is sweet, pure, and healthy,'" continued the perplexed authoress. "The next, 'The theory of the book is bad, full of morbid fancies, spiritualistic ideas, and unnatural characters.' Now, as I had no theory of any kind, don't believe in Spiritualism, and copied my characters from life, I don't see how this critic can be right. Another says, 'It's one of the best American novels which has appeared for years' (I know better than that); and the next asserts that 'though it is original, and written with great force and feeling, it is a dangerous book.' 'Tisn't! Some make fun of it, some over-praise, and nearly all insist that I had a deep theory to expound, when I only wrote it for the pleasure and the money. I wish I'd printed it whole or not at all, for I do hate to be so misjudged."

Her family and friends administered comfort and commendation liberally; yet it was a hard time for sensitive, high-spirited Jo, who meant so well, and had apparently done so ill. But it did her good, for those whose opinion had real value gave her the criticism which is an author's best education; and when the first soreness was over, she could laugh at her poor little book, yet believe in it still, and feel herself the wiser and stronger for the buffeting she had received.

333 "Not being a genius, like Keats, it won't kill me," she said stoutly; "and I've got the joke on my side, after all; for the parts that were taken straight out of real life are denounced as impossible and absurd, and the scenes that I made up out of my own silly head are pronounced 'charmingly natural, tender, and true.' So I'll comfort myself with that; and when I'm ready, I'll up again and take another."

#hellsitesonlybookclub #bookblr #Alcott #Little Women

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deadmomjokes · 1 year ago

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This unearthed a childhood memory, so story time!

I grew up out in the woods, right? We also had a big pasture that has since also become woods, but at the time was open weeds and grass. Said pasture had running through it an underground stream or spring of some kind. Near to that underground stream, which left constant mud at all times of the year and in all drought conditions, was what I called my Clay Pit.

My parents didn't think much of it aside from being like "Yeah, T's out digging in The Hole again." But I had so much fun digging up clay with a stick and making things out of it. One day I brought back a lil bowl I had made and set it out on the hood of the car to cure in the sun. My dad was kinda mad, obviously, as he was the one that had to chip the thing off the car the next morning when he was already running late for work. But he was also a lot less mad than he ought to have been.

That day he came home and made me a job offer. If I could fill howevermany of those big ol 15 gallon buckets with my clay and dredge it (or whatever the proper term is for washing the regular dirt out of the actual clay), he'd pay me money. Real, actual money.

It was like a dream come true. I was gonna get paid to dig up dirt, then slosh it around in water repeatedly. I did that for free, bruh, and routinely got in trouble for it. (RIP our washing machine and every pair of shoes I owned.) But mama didn't raise no fool, so of course I didn't say that I'd have done it for free just for the chance at permission to use an actual shovel. Shovel, no. Blunted trowel, yes. (Thus I am typing this with all of my fingers; I was a clumsy child.) I filled something like 8 of those buckets with finished clay, excavating the equivalent of a adult-sized (albeit shallow) grave in the process. Best weekend ever. Only he failed to spell out the fact that he was then going to abscond with my buckets full of clay, so imagine my shock and tiny second grade rage when Monday morning rolled around and Dad ran off with them to work. I did, however, get paid that afternoon, so my indignation was short lived.

Turns out my dad had realized that what I'd been digging up was actual, quality, useable clay. He immediately contacted the ceramics/art instructors at the place he was teaching science. Said instructors had been in the teacher's lounge the day before complaining about their suppliers' prices having gone up. The man chipped my tiny bowl off the hood of the car that morning and took it with him to work, plonked it down on the art teacher's desk, and basically said "Boy have I got a deal for you."

He sold it to them for the supplier's old rate, and paid me a tiny cut for the labor so he didn't have to wreck his back doing it himself. I'd call this unethical if it weren't for the fact that the man was already on back surgery #4 by that point, and also that I had the absolute time of my life. Apparently it was really good stuff, too, and they wanted more. But alas, I had dug too greedily and too deep and the stream seeped through the walls of the Clay Grave Pit to create Tiny Pond of Quicksand-Like Clay Soup. So it was no longer feasible or safe to harvest clay from that deposit anymore, and I never found another of the same quality. Thus ended my dream job, and my father's short-lived tenure as his institution's art-crack locally sourced clay dealer.

early homo sapiens b like help i cant stop making bowls . help i cant stop domesticating plants and animals. help i cant stop developing language and architecture and religion

#story time #additions #long post #it's true #people have an innate urge to make things out of clay and dirt #sorry for hijacking the post i got really excited about the memory lol

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pacificmaritimegroup · 2 months ago

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lllouisblog · 6 months ago

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Maximizing Efficiency with Mini Skid Steers, Skid Steer Loaders, and Excavators: A Comprehensive Guide

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Wheel Loader Attachment

Wheel loader attachments provide additional versatility to wheel loaders, enabling them to perform specialized tasks. Attachments such as forks, grapples, and snow plows transform wheel loaders into multi-purpose machines capable of handling diverse job requirements.

Selecting the right equipment and attachments for your construction needs can significantly enhance productivity and efficiency. Whether you're working on a large-scale project with excavators and wheel loaders or tackling smaller tasks with mini skid steers and compact excavators, the versatility and adaptability of these machines and their attachments are crucial for success. By understanding the unique capabilities and applications of each type of equipment, you can make informed decisions that will optimize your operations and achieve your project goals.

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vicshush · 7 months ago

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[Video ID 1: A short, unattributed, sped-up (?) video -- later followed by the longer YouTube video, titled "Achei três jacaré! Na limpieza valeta escavadiera hidráulica" [Portuguese for something like "I found 3 alligators while cleaning the ditch with the hydraulic excavator"] by user Iago Máquinas -- of a bucketed digging machine scooping chunks of shallow-rooted grass and muck from the surface of a ditch. The digger scoops down into the ditch and pulls out a bucketful of grass. It dumps the greenery, mud, and water on the road level with the digger, then goes back for another scoop. It pauses with the second scoop hovering over the road, then brings the scoop closer to the operator's window (and the camera). A dark alligator (caiman?) that is the same color as the mud sits in the front of the bucket, nestled in the greenery and muck. The operator jiggles the bucket a few times as the alligator stares with wide yellow eyes, hardly moving but mouth slightly agape. Anthropomorphically, it looks aghast or stunned. The operator turns the excavator back to the edge of the ditch, away from where the machine is working, and carefully dumps the alligator out, nudging and chivying the creature until it slips into the ditch water and swims away.

Image ID : A screenshot from the X-Files of Fox Mulder standing in a doorway, one hand on the edge of the open door, and subtitles reading "Scully, you're not gonna believe this."

Video ID 2: The longer version (almost 30 minutes, but the 3 alligators are seen in the first 5 minutes or so) of the same video as above. First, an alligator was in the bucket of the excavator when the operator first started to move it. This alligator is dumped carefully out at the road level after the operator slowly tips and moves the bucket, failing to inspire the alligator to flee. The road-level alligator needs more nudging and gapes at the bucket before finally slipping into the grass. Next, the video slows down a bit later to show an alligator thrashing away from the bucket as it dips into the water (as the first alligator was dumped above the area behind cleared, this might've been the same one). The final alligator found in the first 5 minutes is as described in the shorter video.

/end ID]

#video #alligators #caiman #cute animals #alien abduction #humor #excavator #Brazil

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allloyplates · 6 months ago

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Abrex 450 Plates

Abrex 450 plates find extensive applications in wear-resistant materials today. The plates have excellent properties such as wear resistance, corrosion resistance, machinability, high strength, durability, and pitting resistance. Abrex significantly reduces the load on these structural components to cope with wear conditions. Contrary to conventional steel, Abrex Plates eliminate structural weight and also offer economic advantages.

Abrex abrades and resists wear, hence extending plant and equipment service life. ABREX plates perform exceptionally well in hostile environments and offer excellent wear resistance. The plates have better toughness, strength, and endurance, which make them useful for a wide range of applications, including screens, silo linings, hoppers, dump trucks, mud pipe systems, rippers, edge shovels, excavator buckets, and scrapers.

We supply a wide range of ABREX sheet materials: Abrex 450 Plates BHN wear-resistant plates, Abrex 450 Plates Brinell plates, Abrex 450 Plates crusher liners, etc. However, standard processing techniques that can be used with ease on these plates include cutting, machining, and welding. As wear resistance increases due to increased surface hardness, the load loss for the steel decreases.

Therefore, higher surface hardness is required by steels with wear resistance. Abrex 450 Plates offer excellent abrasion resistance to sand and soil; they are far better than low steel. Every Abrex 450 Plate goes through a variety of tests, like IGC-PMI, impact, and pitting tests, that ensure its high quality and performance.

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krisssolutions · 9 months ago

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Excavator Buckets for Sale: Finding the Right Equipment for Your Construction Needs

When it comes to construction, having the right equipment can make or break your project. One of the most essential tools in any contractor's arsenal is the excavator bucket. Whether you're digging trenches, clearing out mud, or sorting debris, there's a bucket designed just for that task. But with so many options out there, how do you find the perfect fit? Let's dig in and explore the world of excavator buckets for sale.

Understanding Your Needs:

First things first, what exactly do you need an excavator bucket for? Different projects require different types of buckets. If you're primarily digging trenches or moving large amounts of soil, a standard digging bucket is your go-to. These buckets are designed for efficiency and durability, allowing you to move earth quickly and with ease.

But what if you're dealing with a lot of mud and muck? That's where excavator mud buckets come into play. These buckets are specifically designed to handle wet, sticky materials that would otherwise slow down your operation. With a wider and more robust design, mud buckets make light work of even the messiest jobs.

Exploring Skid Steer Attachments:

In addition to traditional excavator buckets, there are also a variety of skid steer attachments that can enhance the versatility of your machinery. Skid steer attachments can turn your excavator into a multi-functional powerhouse, capable of handling a range of tasks from lifting and carrying to grading and digging. By investing in the right attachments, you can maximise the efficiency of your equipment and tackle a wider array of projects.

The Versatility of Sieve Buckets:

Another fantastic option to consider is the excavator sieve bucket. If your project involves separating fine materials from larger debris, a sieve bucket is a must-have. These buckets are designed with a mesh bottom that allows smaller particles to fall through while retaining larger chunks. This can save you a ton of time on site, as it effectively sorts materials without requiring additional machinery or manual labour.

Key Features to Look For

When browsing for excavator buckets for sale, there are a few key features to keep in mind:

Durability:

Your bucket will take a beating, so it needs to be made from high-quality, durable materials. Look for buckets constructed from high-strength steel that can withstand the rigours of heavy-duty use.

Compatibility:

Make sure the bucket you choose is compatible with your specific excavator model. This might seem like a no-brainer, but it's an easy detail to overlook in the excitement of a new purchase.

Design:

Different bucket designs are better suited for different tasks. Think about the bucket's primary use and choose a design that matches those needs. For example, a narrow trenching bucket for precise digging or a wide mud bucket for handling sloppy materials.

Conclusion:

Finding the right excavator bucket can significantly impact the efficiency and success of your construction projects. From digging buckets and excavator mud buckets to sieve buckets and versatile skid steer attachments, there’s a perfect fit out there for every job. By understanding your specific needs and focusing on key features like durability, compatibility, and design, you can make a smart investment that will pay off in the long run.

So, when you're looking for excavator buckets for sale, remember to consider what you'll be using them for and choose accordingly. Happy digging!

Source: https://attachments-excavators.blogspot.com/2024/05/excavator-buckets-for-sale-finding.html

#excavator mud buckets #Skid steer attachments

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vermonthire · 10 months ago

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What to Expect When You Hire a Bobcat for the First Time?

Have you ever found yourself standing before a big project, feeling a mix of excitement and dread, wondering how on earth you’re going to tackle all that work?

Whether it’s a sprawling garden that needs a makeover, a driveway that needs excavating, or a building site that needs clearing, Bobcat Hire East Melbourne might just be the superhero you didn’t know you needed.

In this post, we’ll walk you through what to expect when you bring this powerful ally on board for the first time.

Understanding What a Bobcat Can Do for You

The Versatility of a Bobcat

A Bobcat skid steer loader is a marvel of modern machinery. It's compact, flexible, and can be fitted with various attachments like buckets, augers, grapples, and more.

This versatility makes Bobcat Hire ideal for a wide range of tasks from earthmoving and landscaping to road sweeping and debris removal. Knowing the capabilities of a Bobcat will help you understand how to maximise its use for your specific project needs.

Selecting the Right Model

Not all Bobcats are created equal. Depending on your project’s scale and the space you’re working in, the size and power of the Bobcat you hire will vary.

Smaller models are great for tight spaces and minor jobs like garden landscaping, while larger models will be needed for moving large volumes of earth or heavy materials. Most Bobcat Hire services offer advice on which model suits your job best, so don’t hesitate to ask!

Before the Bobcat Arrives

Preparing Your Site

Before your hired Bobcat rolls onto the scene, you’ll need to make a few preparations. Clear the area of any large debris, mark out any underground utilities to avoid accidents, and ensure there is adequate access for the machinery. The smoother the preparation, the faster the job will get done once the Bobcat is in action.

Safety First

Safety cannot be overstressed when it comes to operating heavy machinery. When you opt for Bobcat Hire East Melbourne, you’ll either be handling the equipment yourself, or you might have a trained operator come with the hire. If you’re operating it, make sure you receive a thorough briefing or, ideally, some training. Always wear appropriate safety gear like helmets, gloves, and visibility jackets.

During the Bobcat Operation

Understanding the Controls

If you're new to operating a Bobcat, take some time to familiarise yourself with the controls. These machines can be sensitive, and getting a feel for the responsiveness of the controls is crucial. Practice in an open area before starting on the actual task to build your confidence and efficiency.

Efficient Operation Tips

To make the most out of your Bobcat Hire Melbourne, plan your work path and method. Always keep an eye on the weather conditions, as wet weather can affect the ground conditions and make operating a Bobcat more challenging. Work systematically, clear large areas first and tackle detailed work as you progress.

After the Bobcat Has Done Its Job

Checking the Work

Once the major work with the Bobcat is completed, do a thorough check of the area to ensure everything is completed to your satisfaction. This might include smoothing out the terrain, clearing leftover debris, or doing a bit more precision work with smaller attachments.

Returning the Bobcat

After your project is finished, clean the Bobcat as per the hire company’s instructions — clearing out any mud, debris, or materials stuck in the machine. Ensure it's in the same condition as when you received it to avoid any additional fees.

Wrapping Up Your First Bobcat Hire Experience

Congratulations! You've just mastered your first Bobcat Hire and tackled a daunting task with ease. Not only have you learned a lot about handling heavy machinery, but you’ve also significantly advanced your project.

Whether you’re a DIY enthusiast or a professional, the Bobcat is an indispensable tool that can save you time and labour. Now that you know what to expect, your next Bobcat Hire East Melbourne should be even smoother.

Ready to start your next big project with a Bobcat? With the right preparation and understanding, your Bobcat is ready to roll whenever you are. Let’s dig in and make that dream project a reality!

Source: https://vermonthire.mystrikingly.com/blog/what-to-expect-when-you-hire-a-bobcat-for-the-first-time

#equipment hire melbourne #bobcat hire melbourne #bobcat hire east melbourne #bobcat hire

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ptmultikenperkasaindonesia · 10 months ago

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FIX GRAPPLE

We produce and supply Fix Grapple for application in Forestry industrial.

More Info Contact Us: +6287772222138

youtube

Attachment Specialist for Heavy Equipment

(fabrication engineering untuk berbagai merk alat berat) seperti :

BUCKET, GRAPPLE,CLAMP SHELL, RIPPER,CANR GRAP, REINFORCEMENT BOOM DAN ARM,PIPING SET BREKER,PIPING SET ROTARY,PIPING SET AUGER

Untuk merk Case kobelko sany caterpillar liugong hitachi Volvo Doosan komatsu JCB hyundai sumitomo dll

Berbagai Bucket Mud bucket ms bucket Thumb pulverizer compaction wheel Fork lift s bucket Rake Thumb bucket ripper bucket bucket Hydraulic grab skeleton Trench bucket Tilt bucket bucket rock bucket Head bucket

Juga Tersedia Breaker Piping Kit Breaker / Pipa Instalasi Breaker Excavator Kelas 5- 30 Ton Sparepart Excavator Hydraulic Breaker Lengkap Pedal/foot valve, Stop valve, Safety Valve, Soft Hose, Nepel dll Tersedia untuk excavator:

Komatsu PC 300-7

Hitachi ZX 330-3

Kobelco SK 300-8 sdh include sensor

Sany SY 365

Sany SY 335

XCMG XE 370

CAT 330GC

DOOSAN DX 300

Ready Attachment Drum roller Vibro Roller Drum roller Conveyor double Tandem roller Combination roller drum roller Single Drum Roller

Rotary grapple sany (attachment)sany SY55C, SY75C, SY135C,SY205C,SY215C, SY365C, SY465C dll

Rotary grapple komatsu (attachment) Komatsu PC200,PC135F PC300,PC400,PC400-7, PC400-8, dan PC400-10,PC8000,PC8000-6, PC8000-7, dan PC8000-11,dll

Rotary Grapple Kobelko (attachment)Kobelco SK210HLC-10 Hybrid Excavator,Kobelco SK135SR-5 Excavator,Kobelco SK500LC-10 Excavator,Kobelco SK210HD Excavator,Kobelco SK75SR-7 Mini Excavator dll

Rotary grapple Caterpillar Cat (attachment)caterpillar CAT 300.9D Mini Excavator

CAT 305/307 Mini Excavator

CAT 320D2

CAT 320 GC Hydraulic Excavator

CAT 320 Hydraulic Excavator

CAT 390D Hydraulic Excavator dll

Rotary grapple case (Attachment) CASE CX210B Case CX130 Case CX360 CX220C LR

BACKHOE LOADER SERI T - PUSAT PIVOT 570ST

EKSKAVATOR PERAYAP - CX130C

CRAWLER EXCAVATORS - CX210C/ CX220C

CRAWLER EXCAVATORS - CX300C

EKSKAVATOR PERAYAP - CX490C/ CX500C

CRAWLER EXCAVATORS - CX370C/ CX380C

CRAWLER EXCAVATORS - CX130C FORESTRY

ACKHOE LOADER SERI T - 570T/570ST

BACKHOE LOADER SERI T - 580T/580ST/590ST/695ST

EKSKAVATOR PERAYAP - CX130B Cx160B CX210B CX240B CX290B CX350B/370B EKSKAVATOR PERAYAP - CX470B CX700B dll.

Rotary grapple LuiGong (attachment) liugong tipe 906E 908E 915E 920E 933E 936E 950E 970E

Rotary grapple hitachi ( Attachment )hitachi model ZX350 ZX130-5G HITACHI EX 1200-6 ZX70-5G HITACHI ZX225USLC-6

ZX10U-6, ZX17U-6, ZX19U-6, ZX19-6, ZX26U-6, ZX33U-6, ZX38U-6 dll

Rotary grapple Volvo(attachment) Volvo jenis EC210D EC200D EC220D

Doosan DX140AF DX200A DX27Z SL-500 LC-V DE12TIA DX500 DX 2202 A DX520 BEKO

Rotary grapple JCB ( attachment ) JCB tipe js205 sc tracked excavator JS305 (kelas 30 ton) CB 541-70 backhoe loader 3CX ECO.

Rotary grapple hyundai(attachment) hyundai tipe R 220 -9 sekelas Pc200 hx210s hyundai320 hyundai 210 hyundai R80-7 HX55S HX500L(FORKLIFT, SCISSOR LIFT, BOOM LIFT, EXCAVATOR, TRUCK BASAH, WHEEL LOADER DLL)

Rotary grapple sumitomo (attachment) sumitomo SH210-6 SH460HD-5

*Hubungi kami untuk pemesanan type dan jenis lainnya (permintaan pembuatan khusus lainnya)

*Bergaransi

*Kami Menyediakan expedisi untuk pengiriman keseluruh indonesia

*Jika di butuhkan kita bisa kunjungan baik dalam atau luar kota .

Note: *harga bisa berubah sewaktu-waktu dan sesuai kapasitas unit

Head Office

PT MULTIKEN PERKASA INDONESIA

Gedung Nucira Sayap Timur, Jl. MT.Haryono Kav.No.27 Lt.1, RT.8/RW.9, Kel. Tebet Timur, Kec. Tebet, Jakarta Selatan, DKI Jakarta-12820

Website multiken.co.id

Hp.087772222138.

#Youtube

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entrepreneur-blog07 · 1 year ago

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Business Opportunities in Automobile Industry

Certainly, the automobile products industry offers vast opportunities for manufacturing businesses. The list you’ve provided touches on a broad spectrum of products within this sector. Let’s delve deeper into each one, outlining the potential of each business idea.Visite our website https://entrepreneurblog.in/

Truck Body Manufacturing: This involves the production of the main structure or chassis of the truck. Market research to understand specific regional needs, payload capacities, and design preferences will give an edge.

Truck Mud Flaps: These are essential to prevent mud and debris from being thrown into the air. Different sizes, materials, and custom designs or branding can be a unique selling point.

Lithium-Ion Battery (Battery Assembly): With the push towards electric vehicles (EVs), the demand for efficient and long-lasting batteries is increasing. Focus on research and development can lead to better battery life, efficiency, and quicker charging solutions.

JCB Bucket Pin and JCB Tooth Nuts, Bolt, and Pin Bush: These are integral parts for heavy machinery used in construction and excavation. Ensuring high quality, durability, and compatibility is key.

Helmet Manufacturing: Helmets are crucial for safety in two-wheeler vehicles. Introducing innovative designs, improved comfort, advanced safety features, and integrating smart technology like Bluetooth can provide a competitive advantage.

Alloy Wheels for 2 Wheelers (Motorcycle, Bikes): Alloy wheels are not only aesthetically appealing but also enhance the performance of vehicles. Investing in designs, durability, and weight optimization can help stand out.

Auto Piston Manufacturing: Pistons are central to the operation of any combustion engine. High-quality materials, precision manufacturing, and compatibility with various engines can help establish a reputable brand.

Auto Brake Pad and Brake Shoe: Safety is paramount in vehicles. Ensuring high friction, long-lasting material and compatibility with different vehicle models can be the USP.

Seaworthy Containers: These are vital for international trade and shipping. Focusing on durability, weatherproofing, and size variations can cater to diverse shipping needs.

Truck Trailer (Sidewall, Flatbed, Bulker, Tip Trailer & Container Trailer): Trailers cater to different transportation needs. Differentiating by offering modular features, robust design, and load optimization can be beneficial.

Recommendations:

Market Research: Before starting, conduct thorough market research to understand current demands, gaps in the market, and potential competitors.

Sustainability: Focus on environmentally-friendly production processes and materials, especially given the increasing global emphasis on sustainability.

Collaboration: Collaborate with major automobile companies or distributors. This can provide a steady client base and input on the specific needs of the market.

Quality Control: Ensure rigorous quality control processes. This will establish trust with your customers and could lead to repeat business and referrals.

Continuous Innovation: Invest in research and development to stay ahead of trends and technological advancements.

Strategic Planning

Vision and Mission Creating a coherent vision and mission is crucial. Your mission should reflect the organization’s core values and its commitment to quality and innovation, and the vision should portray where the company aspires to be in the future.

Business Model Deciding whether to operate as a B2B or B2C entity, formulating pricing strategies, and choosing the right distribution channels are crucial components of your business model.

Target Market Identifying your target market involves understanding your customers’ needs, preferences, and buying behaviors, which can vary depending on geographic regions, age groups, and income levels.

Product Development

Developing a product involves multiple stages, including idea generation, concept development, design, prototype development, testing, and final production.

Innovation Continual innovation is imperative to stay competitive. Explore new materials, manufacturing processes, and technologies to enhance product performance, durability, and sustainability.

Design The design phase involves creating detailed specifications and prototypes, considering aesthetics, functionality, safety, and cost-effectiveness.

Prototyping and Testing Constructing prototypes and undergoing rigorous testing ensures that the final product meets the requisite quality and safety standards.

Supply Chain Management

Procurement Establishing relationships with reliable suppliers is pivotal. Securing high-quality raw materials at competitive prices directly impacts the product’s quality and the company’s profitability.

Production Optimize production processes to minimize waste, reduce costs, and ensure timely delivery. Implementing lean manufacturing principles can enhance efficiency and productivity.

Logistics Efficient logistics and distribution networks are critical for timely deliveries and minimizing transportation costs. Developing partnerships with logistics providers can optimize supply chain efficiency.

Quality and Compliance

Quality Assurance Implementing stringent quality control measures at each production stage ensures that products comply with industry standards and customer expectations.

Certification and Compliance Securing necessary certifications and adhering to industry regulations are crucial to avoid legal complications and build credibility in the market.

Continuous Improvement Adopting a continuous improvement mindset enables companies to enhance product quality, streamline operations, and reduce costs over time.

Marketing and Branding

Brand Identity Establishing a strong brand identity involves creating a distinctive logo, tagline, and overall aesthetic that reflects the company’s values and resonates with the target audience.

Marketing Strategy A well-crafted marketing strategy encompasses identifying target customers, selecting appropriate promotional channels, and allocating budgets effectively to maximize ROI.

Customer Engagement Engaging customers through social media, email campaigns, and other platforms can foster brand loyalty and facilitate word-of-mouth referrals.

Sales and Distribution

Sales Strategy Developing an effective sales strategy involves training sales representatives, setting achievable targets, and incentivizing performance.

Distribution Channels Identifying and leveraging the most efficient distribution channels is crucial for reaching your target audience and optimizing the supply chain.

Customer Relationship Management Implementing CRM systems can help in managing customer interactions, improving relationships, and enhancing customer satisfaction and retention.

Customer Service and After-Sales Support

Service Excellence Providing exceptional customer service is paramount for building long-lasting relationships and ensuring customer satisfaction.

Warranty and Repairs Offering warranties and prompt repair services can enhance customer trust and brand reputation.

Feedback Management Actively seeking and addressing customer feedback can help in identifying areas for improvement and enhancing overall customer experience.

Sustainability and Environmental Responsibility

Eco-Friendly Materials Utilizing sustainable materials can reduce environmental impact and appeal to environmentally conscious consumers.

Energy Efficiency Implementing energy-efficient manufacturing processes can reduce carbon emissions and operational costs.

Waste Management Developing effective waste management strategies can minimize environmental harm and contribute to corporate social responsibility initiatives.

Technological Advancement and Research Development

In the dynamic world of automobile products, constant research, development, and technological advancements are key to maintaining a competitive edge.

Research and Development (R&D) A continuous investment in R&D is essential for developing innovative products and solutions, optimizing existing processes, and improving product efficiency and durability.

Technological Integration integrating cutting-edge technologies such as Artificial Intelligence, Machine Learning, and Internet of Things can significantly enhance product quality, operational efficiency, and customer satisfaction.

Intellectual Property Protecting innovations through patents, trademarks, and copyrights is crucial to safeguard business interests and foster a culture of innovation.

Market Trends and Consumer Behavior

Market Trends and Consumer Behavior Understanding market trends and consumer behavior is pivotal to aligning products and services with consumer needs and preferences.

Market Analysis Regularly analyzing market trends, consumer preferences, and competitive landscape can provide insights into emerging opportunities and potential threats.

Consumer Insight Gathering and analyzing consumer feedback, preferences, and buying behaviors can help in refining products, services, and marketing strategies.

Trend Adaptation Adapting to changing consumer preferences and market trends is vital to maintaining relevance and achieving long-term success.

Skill Development and Workforce Management

A skilled workforce is the backbone of any successful manufacturing business in the automobile products industry.

Training and Development Regular training and development programs can enhance employee skills, boost morale, and improve productivity and efficiency.

Workforce Management Efficient workforce management involves optimal staffing, effective scheduling, and maintaining a positive work environment to ensure operational efficiency.

Employee Retention Implementing employee-friendly policies, fostering a positive work culture, and providing growth opportunities can help in retaining talent and reducing turnover.

Global Expansion and Market Diversification

Expanding globally and diversifying market presence can help in mitigating risks and maximizing profits.

International Market Analysis Analyzing international markets involves understanding local demands, preferences, regulations, and competitive landscapes to formulate effective entry strategies.

Market Entry Strategies Selecting the right market entry strategy, whether through exporting, licensing, franchising, or establishing local subsidiaries, is crucial to international success.

Cultural Adaptation adapting products, services, and marketing strategies to local cultures, tastes, and preferences is essential for international acceptance and success.

Risk Management and Contingency Planning

Identifying, assessing, and mitigating risks is critical to ensuring business continuity and achieving long-term sustainability.

Risk Assessment Regularly assessing operational, financial, and strategic risks can help in identifying potential threats and formulating mitigation strategies.

Contingency Planning Developing contingency plans for various risk scenarios ensures preparedness and quick response in case of unforeseen events.

Insurance and Liability Management Adequate insurance coverage and effective liability management are crucial to protecting business interests and ensuring financial stability.

Customer-Centric Innovation and Design Thinking

Adopting a customer-centric approach and leveraging design thinking can lead to the development of innovative and user-friendly products.

User-Centric Design Designing products with a focus on user needs, preferences, and experiences can enhance product appeal and customer satisfaction.

Customer Feedback and Co-Creation Actively seeking customer feedback and involving them in the product development process can lead to the creation of products that truly meet consumer needs.

Iterative Prototyping and Testing Developing iterative prototypes and conducting user testing can help in refining product features, functionality, and user experience.

E-Commerce and Digital Marketing

Leveraging online platforms and digital marketing strategies can significantly enhance brand visibility, customer reach, and sales.

E-Commerce Integration Integrating e-commerce platforms can provide a convenient and accessible shopping experience for customers, leading to increased sales and customer satisfaction.

Digital Marketing Strategies Implementing effective digital marketing strategies involving SEO, SEM, content marketing, and social media can significantly enhance online presence and brand recognition.

Data-Driven Decision Making Leveraging data analytics and consumer insights obtained through digital platforms can aid in making informed business decisions and optimizing marketing strategies.

Sustainability and Corporate Responsibility

Achieving long-term success in the automotive industry requires businesses to commit to sustainable practices and corporate social responsibility.

Green Manufacturing Implementing eco-friendly manufacturing practices and energy-efficient solutions can help in reducing environmental footprint and operational costs.

Community Engagement Building strong relationships with local communities through engagement initiatives and support programs can foster goodwill and positive brand image.

Corporate Governance Upholding high standards of corporate governance, ethical business conduct, and transparency can build trust among stakeholders and customers alike.

Regulatory Compliance and Legal Framework

Navigating through legal frameworks and ensuring compliance with regulatory requirements are critical to avoiding legal repercussions and maintaining operational integrity.

Legal Compliance Staying informed about and adhering to local, national, and international laws and regulations is crucial to maintaining business legality and reputation.

Contract Management Efficiently managing contracts and legal agreements with suppliers, customers, and partners can prevent disputes and ensure smooth business operations.

Licensing and Permits Obtaining and maintaining the required licenses and permits are essential for legal operation and can impact the business’s credibility and functionality.

Financial Management and Investment Strategies

Effective financial management and strategic investment are paramount for maintaining liquidity and fostering business growth.

Financial Planning developing comprehensive financial plans, budgets, and forecasts can aid in managing finances efficiently and making informed business decisions.

Investment Analysis Conducting thorough investment analysis can help in identifying lucrative opportunities and allocating resources optimally.

Funding and Capital Acquisition Exploring various funding options, including loans, venture capital, and grants, is essential for securing the necessary capital for business operations and expansion.

Research, Development, and Innovation in Product Lines

Continuous research, development, and innovation in product lines can lead to the creation of differentiated and competitive products.

Product Diversification Diversifying product portfolios can help in mitigating risks, reaching different market segments, and maximizing revenue streams.

New Product Development investing in the development of new and innovative products can enable companies to stay ahead of competitors and meet evolving market demands.

Market Research and Analysis Regular market research and analysis can provide insights into market trends, consumer preferences, and competitive landscapes, guiding product development strategies.

Global Supply Chain and Logistics Management

Efficiently managing global supply chains and logistics is critical for maintaining operational fluency and ensuring product availability.

Supply Chain Optimization Optimizing supply chain processes, from procurement to distribution, can lead to cost reductions, improved efficiency, and enhanced customer satisfaction.

Global Sourcing Identifying and establishing relationships with reputable suppliers from around the world can ensure the procurement of quality materials at competitive prices.

Logistics and Distribution Networks Developing efficient logistics and distribution networks can enhance product availability, reduce lead times, and minimize transportation costs.

Customer Retention and Loyalty Programs

Implementing effective customer retention strategies and loyalty programs can lead to increased customer satisfaction and brand loyalty.

Customer Relationship Management Investing in robust CRM systems can enhance customer interactions, improve service levels, and increase customer retention rates.

Loyalty Programs Designing attractive loyalty programs can encourage repeat purchases, enhance customer loyalty, and boost overall sales.

Personalized Services and Offers Providing personalized services and tailored offers can enhance customer experience and satisfaction, leading to increased customer retention.

Brand Building and Positioning

Establishing a strong brand and effectively positioning it in the market are crucial for gaining market recognition and consumer trust.

Brand Identity Development Creating a distinctive and appealing brand identity can help in building brand recognition and differentiating the brand in the competitive market.

Positioning Strategies developing effective positioning strategies can help in creating a unique brand image and appealing to the target audience’s needs and preferences.

Brand Communication Maintaining consistent and clear brand communication across all channels can strengthen brand image and build consumer trust.

Market Expansion and Diversification Strategies

Exploring new markets and diversifying product offerings can help in spreading risk and maximizing growth opportunities.

Market Segmentation Identifying and targeting specific market segments can lead to more focused marketing efforts and improved sales.

Geographic Expansion Expanding into new geographic regions can open up new customer bases and revenue streams, enabling further business growth.

Product and Service Diversification Diversifying product and service offerings can mitigate risks and cater to a wider range of customer needs and preferences.

Conclusion:

Manufacturing businesses in the automotive products industry are intricate entities that operate in a volatile and competitive environment. Each sector within the industry presents unique opportunities and challenges, necessitating comprehensive knowledge, strategic planning, constant innovation, and meticulous execution. A successful venture in this industry requires a multifaceted approach, integrating various business aspects like technology integration, sustainable practices, stringent quality control, robust financial management, effective supply chain management, and customer-centric approaches. By meticulously addressing each element, from product development to market expansion, businesses can construct a robust foundation, enabling them to navigate the intricacies of the market, adapt to evolving consumer needs, and maintain a competitive edge in the rapidly advancing automotive industry. To sustain and grow in this field, continuous learning, adaptation, resilience, and a commitment to excellence are indispensable. The businesses that manage to integrate innovation, ethical practices, customer satisfaction, and environmental consciousness are the ones that will leave a lasting imprint on the automobile products industry, contributing to its advancement and evolution.

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