Pete Raphus's Arc

Chapter 1 of 1

Pete carved the last letter into the stone with his beak pressed hard against the chisel. The names took up the whole surface now — every dodo he remembered from before the ships came. He stepped back and wiped dust from his goggles. This was the test run. The real monument would go somewhere people could see it, somewhere they'd have to walk past it on their way to things that mattered. He walked through the forest until he found the rock formation they called the seedbank. It rose up like a ship hull turned to stone, covered in carved niches that held seeds and shells and things meant to last. The keepers would hate what he planned to do. They preserved what already existed. He wanted to carve something that hadn't happened yet. Pete set the chisel against bare stone near the entrance. The blade caught the light as he angled it. He'd need to work fast before anyone showed up to stop him. The first strike sent a chip flying. The second made a line. By the tenth, he had the curve of a wing — the kind dodos never had but might, if one of them made it to Cumulus Prime. He finished the carving as the sun dropped below the trees. The stone showed a dodo in flight goggles, wings spread wide, above the words: NOT FORGOTTEN. NOT FINISHED. His workshop back in the clearing had practice stones and failed attempts. This one would stay. Anyone walking to the seedbank to remember the dead would see it. They'd know at least one dodo refused to be a memory.