Melodious writing a song
The big concert in the Ant dome
Satellite broadcasting music
Click the puzzle piece to work a jigsaw puzzle
The Indigo Jewel
Chapter 12 - We Are the Remnant
Intro,
1,
2,
3,
4,
5,
6,
7,
8,
9,
10,
11,
12,
13,
14,
15,
16,
17,
Epilogue,
Afterward
"Music acts like a magic key, to which the most tightly closed heart opens." - Maria von Trapp
In the year 2121, my daughter Melodious Metha Bahn was born here in New Perth, Ant. From the start, she showed me a world of possibility I could never have imagined. Her curious mind, her determination — it was clear she was unlike anyone else. When she was still very young, our doctor told us that Melodious is on the autism spectrum. It wasn’t a revelation that frightened us — it was an invitation to learn how best to support her.
Melodious has always approached the world on her own terms. Strangers make her nervous, their unpredictable actions difficult to navigate. But where she hesitates socially, she flourishes creatively. Music is her language, her sanctuary, and her gift to the world. From the moment she began humming little tunes as a toddler, it was as if the music was already waiting inside her, ready to be brought to life. By the time she was eight years old, she could play a variety of musical instruments and use recording equipment with the skill and intuition of a professional.
Through the Indigo Jewel, I commune daily with the grandmothers who came before me. Their voices have spoken clearly about Melodious’ purpose in life. They tell me her music is destined to touch hearts across the globe. Together, we have nurtured her talents, though she often protests, justifiably, that I hover too much. “Mother!” she exclaims, exasperated. “Give me a little space!”
I smile at her and say gently, “What would your grandmothers think if they heard you talking that way?” The bond she shares with them through the Jewel deepens with every encounter. They have become her mentors, guiding her creativity and encouraging her vision.
Melodious’ latest songs have caught the nation’s attention. She writes about the way people saw the world before the Great Divide, when most of the planet was still habitable. Her lyrics weave together the lessons of the past, blending wisdom and caution into melodies that inspire hope. The national broadcasting agency has given her songs a place in their schedule, and they are quickly becoming national treasures. But when the media requests interviews, Melodious retreats. She prefers to have the music speak for her, remaining unseen except through her recordings. I respect that — it’s part of who she is, and it’s how she protects herself.
“Mom,” she asked me one evening, sitting across from me at the piano, “do you think the Indigo Jewel is shaping our lives for a reason? Has it chosen us, or are we just pretending this is something bigger than it really is?”
Her question lingered in the air, something I never considered. I paused, weighing my words carefully. “Melodious, I believe the Jewel does mold events to its purpose. But it has also given us the freedom to mold ourselves. You’ve seen how it connects us to the grandmothers, their wisdom, their experiences. You’ve seen how it inspires your music. It’s not pretending. It’s real. But the beauty is that your role in this story is uniquely yours to shape.”
She seemed satisfied with my answer and turned back to the piano, softly playing the notes to a new song she had been working on.
Later that evening, we sat together in my study with the Jewel resting between us, glowing faintly. The grandmothers gathered around us, their voices rising softly in unison to greet Melodious. I recited the lyrics of her new anthem for everyone’s benefit. The words carried a power and depth that filled the air:
“We Are the Remnant”
Once there were forests, rivers and trees,
Brave men sailed upon the seas.
Fires raged and silenced their name,
We sing so they do not die in vain.
We crossed the waters, we left the fire,
We carried the dreams of an age that retired.
Here on the edge where the cold winds call,
We stand together, we will not fall.
We are the remnant, we are the light,
Six months of day and six months of night.
No king, no border, no war, no chain,
Only this vow: we will remain.
The old world crumbled under its pride,
Raised walls of greed, ‘til there was nowhere to hide.
We plant the seeds, we heal the land,
We rule with heart, not an iron hand.
We are the remnant, we are the light,
Six months of day and six months of night.
No king, no border, no war, no chain,
Only this vow: we will remain.
The ice remembers, the sky gently weeps,
The ghosts of nations whisper deep.
But we hold strong and we hold fast,
We are the future, our time must last.
We are the remnant, we are the light,
Six months of day and six months of night.
No king, no border, no war, no chain,
Only this vow: we will remain.
When I finished, the grandmothers’ voices rose in animated discussion. They debated the lyrics, some offering suggestions, others insisting the words should remain untouched. Finally, Nanshe spoke with authority, her words silencing the others. “It is perfectly Melodious, and more than adequate.”
Melodious looked up at me, seeking approval, and I nodded. She picked up her guitar and began to play. Her voice filled the space between us, her song full of conviction and beauty. When she finished, Nanshe spoke again, her tone warm and reassuring. “My dearest Melodious, your song is beautiful beyond words. The people of Ant will gather by the millions and sing it for hours.”
Melodious blushed, looking down at her guitar. “I’m glad they’ll sing it,” she said softly, “but I don’t think I can ever be there with them. I couldn’t bear it, everyone staring at me.”
Nanshe’s laughter rippled like sunlight through the group. “Don’t worry, my child. They will treasure you exactly as you are. Perhaps one day, when the time is right, you will join them. But for now, give them your songs, and let their spirits fly.”
The following week, I delivered her anthem to the Ministry of Communication. The legislature listened to the song, and voted unanimously to make it our official national anthem. A few weeks later there is a huge concert outside the capitol, Nueva Esperanza, in a giant greenhouse covering several hundred acres. This is the home to many of the creatures who were saved from the demise of the Amazon. About half a million people gather on a grassy plain under the artificial lights and sing songs all day long. Some of the songs are from long ago, before the Great Divide, but most are contemporary, and many have been written by Melodious. Of course, they sing the new National Anthem.
A number of bands play on a huge stage surrounded by an ocean of people. Overhead, birds fly inside the huge dome. The acoustics are amazing. The dome creates a long, deep, harmonious echo that amplifies every note being played. It’s a magical sound. There are domes like this all over our country to house the plants and animals of the old world.
The people of Ant are inspired, but the people of the Arctic are far away and cannot receive our radio transmissions. We know from the few who have survived the journey that they are deeply divided and the rivals of old are fighting against each other. I am a member of the Ant Congress and we review information as it arrives. We have long debated what we should do to help them. Some members want to reach out to the leadership of the north. Others fear that contacting them may somehow provoke an attack on us with their weapons of destruction.
We have many scientists in Congress. They have been studying the thousands of satellites that are circling our planet. We can see them crossing the sky when the sun is down for six months of the year. The scientists have been able to gain access to a few of the satellites, and they propose a plan to broadcast radio transmissions using the satellites to the entire world. We don’t want to tell the people of the North too much about ourselves, but everyone agrees they need to hear the music. Maybe over several generations, the music can change their hearts.
We vote to provide funding for the project and within a year radio transmissions begin. The radio announcers do not talk about what we believe or how we are doing. The music is the message. The lyrics of the songs say everything we want to say. There are also live streams from the greenhouse nature preserves so people can hear the sounds of nature. There are recordings of musical concerts, and thousands of recorded songs. We just hope the people of the north will someday sing along with us.
Copyright © 2025 Elton Smith