The Timeless Quest in the Land of Plenty

Once upon a time there was a village that had everything you could ever want. Hillvale was a land of plenty. Everybody was happy except for one person named Flynn.

A warm morning breeze threaded through the village, ripe mangos swaying in the trees. Flynn, jet black hair and hemp clothing, walked side-by-side with their companion Gaterbot.

‘We have everything you need right here,’ Flynn’s mother had said. ‘You can paint, sculpt, build tree shelters, whatever you like…’

‘Thank you,’ Flynn said. Polite as ever. ‘But I want something that feels like me.’

‘Me?’ Their mother raised her eyebrows. Not another word was said until their departure. ‘Take care of them, Gaterbot.’

Under a silver moon, Gater and Flynn laid their swags ‘neath a parasol-wide tree. Gater read the ground like scripture. ‘Bears here,’ it cautioned, in its usual clipped fashion.

‘They won’t hurt us,’ Flynn replied. ‘The bears have plenty to eat.’

‘True.’

‘Life would be different with predators,’ Flynn said. ‘Our ancestors hunted them.’

‘Driven by fear.’

‘Imagine being stalked by a lion… or hungry sharks circling in the waters.’

‘You romanticise, Little Flynn.’ Gater still called them that; it had raised Flynn when their mother was sick. ‘You would not want to live through the Great Disasters—famine, floods, fires…’

‘No, but people had to work at surviving… my bones ache, Gater.’ Flynn’s eyes were like two dark pools. Hillvale had everything - creeks and forests, arts and sport, even a lab for growing food from cells. But still, Flynn was restless for more.

In the dewy morning, they rolled along in the sun-powered buggy, following the bumpy road north. The distance between towns felt as vast as space—or so it seemed to Flynn. They passed the time watching the drifting clouds. By mid-morning a wooden archway came into view, words painted in bold red: Warton — No Bots. Black flies buzzed in the steamy heat.

Flynn frowned. ‘Let’s keep going,’ they said.

‘I can wait. Go have a look.’

‘I don’t want to leave you.’

‘You want different. Go.’

Flynn’s pulse quickened as they passed under the sign. Down the track, two men in leather vests and studded boots blocked the way. Their spears stayed sheathed, their eyes did the stabbing. At their heels, two rottweilers growled, muscles coiled. Flynn stumbled. ‘I’m leaving,’ they stuttered. Flynn spun around, breath catching as they passed carcasses dangling on a rack and hightailed back to where Gaterbot waited behind a tree.

‘We better get out of here.’

‘Don’t look back,’ Gater advised.

Flynn slid the story into their back pocket. Not a word was spoken as they continued eastward.

In a glade that night, Flynn munched on salty nuts and dried fruit, the moon lighting their smooth face and glinting off Gaterbot’s steely suit.

‘I can’t wait to tell Jimminy about those men and their dogs! He’ll be pissing himself.’ Flynn grinned at Gaterbot, warmth rising as his friend’s rubber mouth twitched upward.

The following day began with harvesting berries, then zig-zagging into the unknown.

‘Will we be able to find our way home?’

‘I am mapping. Worry not, my friend.’

As they walked, Flynn replayed yesterday’s scenes, filling in the details.

Gater froze.

‘What do you see?’ Flynn asked, as the bot craned its neck.

‘People, sitting up in trees?’

Flynn’s pulse quickened. Adventure.

They followed the grunts and clucking sounds to a grove of mahogany. Flynn inhaled the vanilla-scented musk. Orangutans and humans sprawled through the treetops, arms and legs intermingling.

Their arrival did not go unnoticed. Primate arms extended, pointing. Giggles and clicking sounds swirled through the branches.

Flynn lifted their arm and waved. Smooth-skinned hands and black fuzzy ones waved back, barely missing a beat from tending babies and children.

Once they were out of earshot, Flynn guffawed, doubled over in stitches. ‘And they thought we were funny!’

‘You in clothes. Me in steel.’

‘And them in naked paradise—a primate orgy!’

Flynn tucked this one into their side pocket, safely stored. They couldn’t wait to see the look on their friend, Trout’s face.

That night, they lay on their backs under the full expanse of the galactic star-scape. A cool breeze washed over their faces.

‘Each of these villages has its own culture, just like ours. People belong. What makes me want more, Gater?’ Flynn raised their voice to be heard over the whirring drone of the cicadas.

‘An inquisitive mind, Little Flynn.’

‘I wish I knew how I fit in.’

‘You will,’ Gater replied.

And they left it at that. To Flynn, Gater was at times a prescient sage.

Next came a village of only women, exotic tasting foods, and music pulsing in polyrhythm. Then a town they avoided, thick with the smell of burning flesh. The days became a blur, tales tucked into every pocket of their memory.

‘I’m ready to go home,’ they said one night, bagging new seeds and carefully labelling them.

Setting off the next morning, Flynn quickened their pace, already picturing themselves spinning tales around the fire back home.

The villagers had a feast waiting for their arrival. Flynn’s mother smiled, warmth rising in her cheeks. ‘You found what you were looking for?’

The corner of Flynn’s mouth lifted, their eyes sparkling. ‘I have.’

The years passed, Flynn’s stories bringing tears and laughter to the villagers’ lives. But eventually, grey-haired and rounder in the middle, they could no longer search the unknown beyond the village hedges. In their final days, a faint shiver ran up their spine just as Gaterbot squeezed their hand.

‘We’ve had quite a ride,’ Gaterbot said.

‘Gater, you’ve been my sage, my mentor, my friend.’ Flynn’s words rasped.

‘And now one more adventure into the vast unknown,’ the bot whispered. ‘I’ll be right here.’

Long after they passed, Flynn of Hillvale became a legend, known for their travels and tales. Gaterbot kept the stories alive, word-for-word as his Little Flynn would have told them. To this day, young and old circle around the fire, marvelling at the wonders of the great beyond: lions that took over Leeson, the town where plants and humans converse, that time Flynn discovered…