![\"Atmosphere:](\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.everywritersresource.com\/selfpublished\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/04\/atmosphere.jpg?resize=368%2C580\" "\\"Atmosphere:")
Author<\/h2>\nGarth Bunse<\/p>\n
Born in Tennessee. Raised under the shadow of Tuolumne County monster trucks. Ran away to Quito, Santa Cruz, New College and Oaxaca. Lives happily with his wife and son in the San Francisco Bay Area<\/p>\n
Atmosphere: We Don\u2019t Orbit but Fall the Same is a struggle for survival between two disparate alien species that hinges on the unlikely collaboration between an ailing primate and an exiled dreamer.<\/p>\n
Kora Green\u2019s species has lived eons, bound across shared hallucination and in denial of their physical bodies. When she begins to experience vivid memories of being awake, her community demands conformity and refuses to accept what she sees. But when a spacecraft from another solar system arrives, the heretic Kora may hold the key to their survival.<\/p>\n
Dr. Phlox Swenno is trying to outrun an unspoken shame. His fellow ring-tailed Primalans view him as ill-equipped for his new life aboard a deep-space freighter, and by the time his craft reaches its destination, Phlox is suffering hallucinations and rampant narcolepsy. The planet they now orbit, however, incubates new and unforeseen dangers and the doctor becomes the only one who can read the clues.<\/p>\n
Atmosphere becomes, at its deepest level, an allegory regarding the importance of memory, dreams, and forgiveness.<\/p>\n
Phlox Swenno crouched under a cluster of large red flowers. His sister sat on a branch below. He stared up at the large moon with its purple sphere still clear through thousands of glistening leaves.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat kind of an idiot signs up for a trip like that? You\u2019re going to contract your life out to them for ten years, and at best you\u2019re awake for three months.\u201d<\/p>\n
Phlox answered slowly, \u201cThat\u2019s only if the planet turns out to be uninhabitable.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThey always are,\u201d Inkk howled. \u201cWhat do the companies care? They can afford to send out ten super freighters and have just one come back full. You\u2019re going down in deep chemical hibernation. You\u2019ll come out five years later, no fur, sick and unable to eat. That\u2019s if you can wake up. Is there still a five-percent chance you won\u2019t come out of hibernation at all?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cTwo, two-point-five,\u201d Phlox said without meeting her eye.<\/p>\n
He gripped the smooth branch beneath him tightly with his toes and let his body fall. Stretched downward the brown fur on his back looked red in the sun\u2019s yellow rays. He was smaller than the average Primalan, so he felt more comfortable in the trees where physical size didn\u2019t always matter. He wrapped his dark-ringed tail tightly and let go with his paws. As his body lengthened he listened, a slight smile wrinkling the dark fur on his cheeks. The constant buzzing in his ears signaled the start of the warm season. Hanging here, he was shedding off the last contractions of the winter and teaching his body, as Primalans did every spring, to forget the bitter cold.<\/p>\n
Heavy raindrops cut through the air, pulling rust from the sky.<\/p>\n
***<\/p>\n
A glistening icicle. A seamless crystalline hull. The freighter stretched eighteen hundred yards throwing back starlight as it pierced the black. Dr. Phlox Swenno peered through a small window as his rocket glider skimmed above Splinter Sixty-Six\u2019s cavernous exhaust ports and across the Hyyperbolt fusion reactors. His transport banked to the left, and fur rubbed fur as everyone shifted to the right. He jockeyed for position in the cramped cabin and was elbowed in the ribs. Someone kept howling. This was not the shelter of the forest. The glider\u2019s flight stabilized, but some malan jabbed a knuckled paw in his back on purpose. And these thugs are supposed to be the finest of my species. He didn\u2019t bother turning around, kept his eyes to the floor. The flight was almost over, and he knew it was best to keep his mouth shut, his tail down.<\/p>\n
Three Primalans waited at the pressure lock. The tallest, wearing a red utility belt stepped forward, exaggerating the angle of his chin as he lorded over the new arrivals. He had dark brown fur, a stump tail and crooked hips. He walked slowly in front of each malan, nostrils twitching. He stopped, leaned over, and sniffed behind the doctor\u2019s head. Straightening up, he barked, \u201cYou\u2019re late.\u201d Phlox said nothing and kept his tail in the formal position: tight around his right leg. \u201cI\u2019m Anthullo, second mate. Kase will take you up to your quarters. You\u2019ll all join an orientation at five hundred core. Go.\u201d Surprisingly, all the roughnecks quietly complied and stepped into single file. Boots on metal grates echoed up the long, cold corridor. Phlox uncurled his tail and fell in line.<\/p>\n
***<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd if you do wake up, you\u2019ll be lucky if you can walk by the time they tell you, \u2018Oh, it\u2019s time to turn around.\u2019 The best you can hope for is a planet that\u2019s a pretty color. It\u2019ll be one more inorganic wasteland!\u201d<\/p>\n
Phlox had jumped down and grabbed her shoulder. \u201cBut just think about it\u2014it\u2019s a chance of a lifetime, to see another world\u2026 and what do I have to stay for?\u201d His voice trailed off. A gust of wind stirred the smallest leaves while heavy tubular flowers hung motionless. Bright red zag flies darted around, and as they passed through the floral cylinders, the beat of their tiny wings was amplified. All around him, the air was loud with the drilling vibrations of these small insects. The sound grew deeper as the flies traveled farther up the hollow flowers and created a whistling effect as they flew out.<\/p>\n
***<\/p>\n
After the orientation ended, the doctor and a few others waited for the lift that ran up the craft\u2019s spine. The hollow cylinder was seventy-five feet wide and stretched twelve hundred yards up to the medical labs, crew quarters and the main deck. He stood staring up, swaying slightly from nausea. There was literally no ground to stand on, no solid branches to hold, and he worried he wouldn\u2019t remember even half the technical details he had just been taught.<\/p>\n
Everyone next to him started leaping to the elevator when it was still twenty feet above them, even though it would continue to drop to pick them up, so when he stepped on a minute later it was already crowded. As the lift started upwards, a large malan jumped over the platform\u2019s low mesh wall. He shoved Swenno hard and grunted, \u201cGet out of my way, freak!\u201d The elevator was packed and Phlox was unable to move, but the burly Primalan took his hesitation personally. \u201cI said get the fuck out of my face, or do you want to become a chop-tail the hard way?\u201d Someone laughed, cold and clipped.<\/p>\n
Phlox turned and hopped the railing and swung down to the spine\u2019s latticed walls. He assured himself this was no worse than any day down on Akkacia, but he could still hear the same malan howling. He shook his head and started making his way up, leaping and jumping as boldly as he could. The curving walls were covered with genetically manipulated branches, hydroponic scaffolding, glow lamps casting twisting shadows through unfamiliar crops, and strung throughout was a glowing network of bio-tubing. It was a poor substitute for a real forest, but it felt good to keep moving, swinging, and stretching. Procedural memory stirred familiar images.<\/p>\n
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