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date = 4531-09-08-04-37

from = stid1003@malu@244.21

to = central@rs001@4.0

importance = low

note = as related by unknown malic sage - translation may contain errors

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This is the hard life, Provich thought as he walked through his ancient forest.

The real thing. We are out here in the wilderness with the lyncoor cats and the

trees, five million acres of pristine woodland protected by the Provich estate.

He owned it, down to the last square inch. His name was in the books, he had

purchased it for two krabas an acre from the Interplanetary Frontier Development

Control Institute. It was government of the new land, for the trillonaires, by

the trillonaires. Provich’s net worth was just short of a thousand billion, but

he had nestled his way into the trillonaire club nonetheless. The land was

supposedly untouched by human hands, but Provich’s agents had found evidence

that the Malic peoples had inhabited its mountainous terrain in the Precorruo

Age, and he felt confident his agents were right.

Provich had bought the land without ever seeing it, and as soon as he could get

away from his advisers’ barrage of emails regarding his numerous lawsuits, his

latest stock investments, and his mental health exams, he got together a small

group of himself and three other people - a hired Neomalic guide called Puma

and two nature nerds, Sean and Janet - to accompany him into the wilds as the

first modern humans to set foot on that land.

Provich met with his group six months before the trip in his “office,” a one

thousand square foot room with broad windows overlooking the city, expensive

paintings covering the walls, and a broad circle of easy chairs encircling a

hologram projector. When Sean and Janet arrived with their nose piercings and

their expensive fur clothes, Provich introduced Puma (who he had met for the

first time minutes before) as an very admirable person, someone Provich

respected “really very deeply,” and proceeded to summarize the Neomalic’s life

for the newcomers in a proud way, as if it were his own. 

They had set out almost a week ago. A helicopter had flown them into an IFDCI

camp, they had been pointed in the direction of the “Provich Purchase,” as the

beady-eyed IFDCI official called it, and they had left. Now, Provich felt, they

were out in the wilderness alone, without the comfort and safety of modern

society. Of course they had radio and GPS for emergencies, but he didn't like

to think of that. He liked to pretend they were all alone, removed from

humanity, surviving against the odds.

Provich wanted to find gold and silver. He knew museums would pay top dollar for

Malic artifacts, and he hoped to use the money to pay off some debt from the

lunar project. Provich laughed out loud. He hoped this wouldn't turn out like

the lunar project did. But he hadn’t been on the moon in person. Now, he felt he

could stop things if they started going wrong.

≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁≁

On their sixth day of traveling, they reached the remains of an old road. To

Provich, it was hardly distinguishable from the forest around it; but there were

banks on either side, and above the banks, in two perfect rows, were lines of

stately sugar maples, centuries old. He didn’t notice the road at first, and

wouldn’t have seen it if Puma had not pointed out the banks. Then, after some

puzzled staring, everything snapped into place in one moment, and Provich could

see the lines of maples. He thought of it as his mind canceling out all the

trees that grew in the road, and imagining the land as it had been in the

Precorruo Age. Once he saw the road, he could follow it easily.

The way was not straight. It wound through the hilly landscape like a tangled

ball of yarn, avoiding steep uphill slopes while trying to reach the mountains

all the time. Every now and then the wall of maples would break on one side, and

they would find an old stone foundation and sometimes a dry well, but, to

Provich’s disappointment, nothing of value. Sean and Janet, however, didn't seem

to care. They excitedly took photographs of everything they came across, tapping

away at their cameras. “As if these piles of rock matter,” grumbled Provich to

himself. “I haven't seen a single valuable thing since we left the IFDCI camp.”

But he stayed on the road, hoping it would eventually bring them to something

worth his time. Half the time he marveled at the noise of the birds and the

greens, blues, and browns that he now owned, half the time he excitedly

anticipated the money he would receive upon returning with Malic gold.

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