Posted Mar 19 2012 - 01:35 AM
“Karzahni is this?” Rey muttered. I could tell he wanted to scream. This seemed to be the general reaction of most of the people who soon began walking in. The Matoran in the tank was a Ga-Matoran. She was frozen in an almost reclining position, as if she had been knocked out, picked up off the ground, and placed in the stasis fluid while still unconscious. Her expression was completely neutral, eyes about three-quarters open and somewhat obscured by a clear tape that had been placed over her mask-holes. She was certainly alive. The stasis fluid was still, clear, and filled with tiny, suspended bubbles. It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen.Even despite its beauty, it took me a moment to realize it was the artwork. Rey made the realization shortly after I did. Aesthetically, as an artwork, it was a masterpiece. The Matoran remained motionless at the center of the hubbub, with people swirling around it and admiring her unmoving body. To me it expressed all of my frustrations with the stillness of Metru Nui. At the same time, I thought of the Vahki confrontation earlier. I thought of the helplessness of this Matoran, locked in a prison. I thought of the new work policies. I thought of how this Matoran was on display, exactly like a Rahi, and how Matoran seem to amount to little more than Rahi these days.I thought it was amazing that the artist was Kiratan. Kiratans have no Vahki, only Matoran police forces, and their government is very detached from public affairs, focusing mostly on economic matters. I thought maybe she had lived in Metru Nui. Or maybe I was simply interpreting the piece completely wrong.I noticed a name engraved on the side: Attack On Memory.“I wonder if this thing is even legal,” I wondered aloud.“This art is not legal here,” a husky, thickly-accented female voice came from behind me. I turned around and saw a Ta-Matoran. It took me a minute to put the voice and the appearance of the stranger together, and I realized it was a painted Ce-Matoran, a Matoran of Psionics. “We will take care of that.”“Are you Sederea?” I asked.She nodded and chewed on the Harakeke flower she was holding. “I know this flower is not legal either,” she said, smiling.*“The Vahki have been really cracking down on that kind of thing recently.”“I know when the Vahki are coming,” she said. “Psionics. I can feel the Rorzakh staffs. It makes me happy that there is so much art in Onu-Metru.”“Can most Ce-Matoran do that?”“Only some.”“She’s gonna be a Toa,” another Matoran joked, elbowing Sederea. This Matoran looked like a Po-Matoran or an Onu-Matoran but was painted blue. “Put ‘em in vats now, then save the poor things from people like her.”“Tell me a bit about this piece,” I asked, and immediately regretted asking. I am the most awkward talker in the world when it comes to people I respect. Apparently I had dinner with the Turaga once, a long time ago. I’m glad I can’t remember a thing about it. “What are you thinking?”Of all the questions. Sometimes I hate artists. I started babbling about the Vahki and Matoran culture and how nothing happens in Metru Nui and then I think I started talking about my memory span before I realized what I was making made no sense. She just smiled all the while, which was even more frustrating.“I’ll let you think what you want. But the Vahki will come, and when they come perhaps you will see meaning in it.”She left with a few others to look at a wooden Skakdi idol. I found Rey by a collection of Telkerrian art. The Telkerrian art was pleasant--mostly paintings of the sea--but everything else in the room paled in comparison to Attack on Memory.“You actually like that monstrosity?” Rey said, chuckling in disbelief.“It’s fantastic.”“It’s garbage!” Rey shouted.“I think I understand it,” I said.“Tell me,” Rey said, not condescendingly.“I think it has to do with how slow events in Metru Nui are compared with how short our memory spans are. With an organic animal that lives ten years, a bird for example, being in stasis would be a massive chunk of time spent, well, not really living. But for something that lives millennia and millennia, it’s nothing. Still, with the...”I cut myself off because I was making no sense and because Rey’s attention had shifted. He was looking in the direction of Attack on Memory. I shifted my gaze towards the artwork and noticed it was covered in a massive white sheet. In the doorway were six Vahki. Rey swore and returned to looking at the paintings. I watched as one of the Vahki ambled up to the massive, veiled object in the center of the room, extended its staff, and gently lifted up the sheet.*Harakeke flowers are illegal on Metru Nui due to an ongoing trade dispute with Nongu, the main producer of Harakeke flowers in the Matoran colonies.
Edited by Moo!, Mar 19 2012 - 01:40 AM.