Verteria: the Planet

Civilization on Verteria has been developing for the last three thousand years. Despite this, a hypothetical traveller through time, space, and dimensions walking the streets of the capital city would be certain they had been transported to the interwar period. Until they noticed that the passing Ford Model A had no wheels and hovered several inches above the ground. Or when a robotic concierge opened a door for them.

This retro-futuristic marriage had complex foundations. It wasn't the result of an organic development but a carefully constructed crossbreed whose evolution spiralled out of the planter's control. It all began in the 1920s when envoys from the Highest Earth—a planet from a parallel universe whose civilization reached the industrial revolution in antiquity—arrived on Earth. Before Niels Bohr presented his atomic model, the Dignified Ones—inhabitants of The Highest Earth—travelled between dimensions, not for sightseeing but with a greater mission.

Using meticulously parameterized calculations, they could predict how long a civilization would survive. In a gesture of apparent solidarity with humankind scattered across many dimensions, they decided to send envoys to some of them. They announced the imminent demise, offering temporary asylum on The Highest Earth and subsequent relocation to an uninhabited Earth-like planet. Where possible, they appealed to human reason—statistics, numbers, science. But people immersed in the decadent moods of the early 20th century, licking their wounds from one war and preparing for another, were not swayed by logic. The horrors they had seen and experienced were too unnatural, and the allure of freedom and liberty was too enticing to abandon. For years, everyone had been saying that death would come soon after them. Further threats only made them savour every pleasure more keenly. The newcomers adopted a different tactic. They needed someone from among them to confirm their knowledge. Someone who had access to what they did, albeit differently. They found them. Fortune tellers, seers, prophets... Although not supported by statistics and electron flows through circuits, but by sticky cards laid crookedly on the table or strange planetary alignments, their thoughts aligned in the same direction. Such an ally would have to suffice. Intuition, prophecies, and quasi-spiritual experiences meant more to the future Verterians than statistics, for after years of campaigning for Migration to The Highest Earth, there were 144,000 new arrivals. Many brought their life's possessions in the form of clothes, jewellery, furniture, or the "latest automobiles," but all carried nostalgia and habits from Old Earth. Shortly thereafter, they set off for the distant planet Verteria to start anew, carrying only fragments of their former home.

The Verterians could only speculate about the motivations of the Dignified Ones. Subsequent sporadic contacts with civilizations also granted a second chance by The Highest Earth offered some hypotheses. They heard of planet inhabitants speaking of love and peace, eternally intoxicated by substances unknown to the Verterians. Many saw spaceships resembling sailing ships, with officers clad in tailcoats and white wigs, occasionally docking at interplanetary ports. It seemed that for the Dignified Ones, civilizations doomed to extinction were like butterflies or insects to ancient jungle explorers. When they realized a particularly beautiful species was on the brink of extinction, instead of letting it die out, they pinned it to a catalogue to admire whenever they pleased. Such a butterfly or insect was expected to be eternally grateful, in their view. Perhaps this was the case with other rescued worlds, but not with the Verterians.

The decision of most people wasn't based on recognizing the genius of the Dignified Ones. Instead, it enormously increased their faith in prophecies. Trusting a seer is one thing; experiencing a prophecy's fulfilment is another. And moving to another world, "just as the old gypsy woman said," was almost a religious experience. Such reverence began to surround the seers. And even if some among them struggled with imposter syndrome, understanding the power of their abilities and the support of the masses dispelled any doubts. Thus, Verterians were not implanted with loyalty to The Highest Earth. On the contrary, they experienced the opposite. Convinced of their seers' greatness, they viewed those who enabled their rescue with a certain contempt. They were merely a means to an end.

Until the first stage of the journey led them to The Highest Earth. Then, the Verterians were overwhelmed with bitterness. It seemed to ooze from their mouths as they walked past multi-kilometre buildings or when a column of vehicles, so streamlined they moved through the air almost without resistance, passed by. They knew they couldn't live with this bitterness for generations. But many had spent enough time on The Highest Earth and gathered sufficient knowledge to achieve technological and aesthetic integration of both worlds on Verteria.

Thus, Verteria was born—separated from its saviours, self-reliant, with its nostalgias, stolen knowledge, and seers. Technologies were successfully imported but without understanding and with a reverent respect for the old forms and the "unique beauty" brought from Old Earth. Divination flourished, establishing new preparatory schools and universities, with the most renowned and, according to some, the only ones that mattered, being Azenthelm and Xantos. The prestige of being a seer was incomparable to any other profession. After all, from the beginning of Verteria, seers held the key to its survival. And they would do anything to ensure it stayed that way.