I can recall the days before men lost their feet, when we could move across the land like water.

And then the ZAot came, their ships like cymbals and horns in the sky. They planted us all in the earth, using some science beyond our reckoning, out across the flatlands, anywhere we had not tainted with our own creations. And then they were gone.

I can recall my brother crying out beside me. "We will die soon," he moaned, "no food, no water." But we did not die, for the sun fed us, and we drank from the earth as trees do.