Dyaho’s fur bristled as he bared his fangs. And while it was unclear which had brandished his claws first, that was of little significance in feline culture. Dyaho wrestled with the tomcat and thrust his sharp nails into the intruder.
The battle lasted some time. During their prolonged scuffle, they would at times groom each other, and even take breaks. Eventually, Dyaho repelled the young tom.
He licked his right foreleg, bringing relief to the bite wound. Once the housemate bumped into him, he’d probably apply some kind of sticky wrap to the injury while mumbling something or other in a patronizing tone. Dyaho did grasp, albeit dimly, that that wrap made the wound heal more quickly, but even so, he couldn’t stand that odor.
Having gotten hungry, Dyaho elected to return to his roost. All he had to help him tell the passing of time was his stomach.
After passing through a handful of cat doors to reach his destination, he aimed to snuggle up to his favorite crevice... only to find an occupant already there.
It was Sercruca. The white female was in a lousy mood as of late, and today was no exception; she was combative. When Dyaho attempted to enter his roost, she bared her own fangs at him.
Dyaho could not fathom why he was receiving such poor treatment. Until relatively recently, they’d shared the same crevice with good grace. Dyaho used to fear nothing besides the tub of hot water with the odd-smelling bubbles, and yet his fighting spirit wilted before Sercruca. Bemoaning the absurdity that had gripped his soul, he decided to relax in a crevice he didn’t particularly like.
And there, as ill fortune would have it, he was discovered by the housemate. He was casually passing by when he noticed Dyaho’s foreleg. The human scooped him up, and Dyaho, knowing what was to follow, protested vociferously.
“It’s one of the many mysteries of Abh society...” he said. “Why haven’t they developed an odorless salve for cats?”
“If they did, the cats would end up licking the ointment,” said the housemate’s housemate. “They make it smell bad to cats on purpose.”
“Then they should just make it taste bad.”
“This one does taste bitter, though.”
The housemate licked his finger. “It’s more salty than bitter.”
“Cats don’t like saltiness.”
“For real?” The housemate brought his finger under Dyaho’s nose.
Dyaho repaid this act of violence by digging his claws into the human’s hands.
Chapter 1: Gnac Martinr (Flowers of Martin)
Like other planets of its type, it was born as a clump of boiling molten rock. When the lava covering its surface cooled, it solidified into a layer of bedrock. Then the water that poured down gathered in pools, becoming giant oceans. Within the oceans, chemicals that were as common as could be kept reacting in their run-of-the-mill way over and over again, gradually yielding proteins and sugars.
Up until that point, the planet’s story was like that of so many others. Granted, the planet was of a rare type on the galactic scale, but in terms of overall numbers, planets in general were plentiful. A fair few even had oceans with highly active cellular structures. That in itself was no “miracle.” But in that planet’s oceans, something vanishingly rare occurred — the emergence of self-replicating molecules, which attached to cellular structures.
The resulting primitive lifeforms absorbed organic matter, proliferated, and teemed across the waters of the world. The proliferating lifeforms competed against each other, and several species successfully incorporated enzymes catalyzing high-energy activity, thereby gaining supremacy over other, sluggish-at-best lifeforms.
Almost no other planets had ever reached this stage of evolution. In this case, to call it a “miracle” would be no exaggeration. Furthermore, some among the primitive lifeforms acquired a special ability. Those lifeforms were traitors, in a manner of speaking, for the free oxygen they released through the process known as “photosynthesis” proved poisonous to their fellow lifeforms. The kingdom capable of photosynthesis reproduced at intense rates, polluting the atmosphere and oceans with free oxygen in no time. Consequently, scads of lifeforms met their ends. Those that escaped death were either the lifeforms that lived in environments that tenaciously refused oxygen, or the lifeforms that acquired the art of utilizing oxygen.
After epochs that were even lengthy on the cosmic scale, another miracle manifested in the planet’s ecosystem. Multicellular structures — lifeforms composed of more than one cell — began arising. Multicellular life had existed before then, but those agglomerations of cells had no division of labor: they were just herds of cells. For these multicellular beings, on the other hand, each individual cell could not survive on its own, as it was a mere component of a larger whole.
These multicellular lifeforms absolutely flourished. They appeared in multifarious forms, fighting for the survival of their respective species. In the shallows, fish with photosynthetic fibers resembling fur spread their hydro-wings, while in the deeps, creatures with exoskeletons strode on their eight radially-arranged legs. Soft-bodied giant coelenterates established themselves on the deep-sea floors, while extending their tentacles near the water’s surface. Spherical sea-trees rolled from the deeps to the shallows, adrift on the tidal currents, washing up on the shores of the landmasses that were biologically barren. Unequipped to survive on the land, they withered on the beaches, but the winds blew and scattered their seeds inland.
The vast majority of the seeds that germinated failed to grow, but some did adapt to the land. Evolutionary variation ensued in the process, and they dominated the land in the blink of an eye. Particularly successful were the trees that laid dynamic seeds. Some of the seeds grew legs, while others possessed wings. The leg-seeds marched inland like a massive herd aiming to cover the whole of the ground, while the wing-seeds journeyed on the winds like little gliders.
Eventually, other plant species timidly began to advance inland, while some of the more quick-witted animals sneaked their way in as well. That was where the curtain closed on the planet’s miracles. Of course, another miracle or two could occur down the line, but
