Coronado Dreaming

  “Sounds disgusting when you put it like that, but, yeah. Fish, chicken, beef, pork… whatever melts your butter.”

  “Huh… I guess that is a better way to go,” I said. A bit of a breeze blew through my hair. It felt nice, and had a slightly almond smell to it.

  “Especially if you’re a chicken, cow, fish or pig… easier on the ecosystem, too,” said my subconscious.

  “No cow farts causing global warming, huh?”

  Giddeon laughed. “Earth had a lot more problems than global warming in this timeline.”

  I looked over at him, “Really? Like what?”

  My tour guide rubbed his scruffy face. “Well, from what I can gather, there were quite a few radiation incidents, amongst other things.”

  “War?”

  He shook his head in the negative. “Technically, no, although sabotage was often suspected. Quite a few more meltdowns like Chernobyl and Japan. Large swaths of productive farmland were affected and off limits for years, afterwards.”

  “That’s pretty bad… what were some of the other problems?”

  “For one thing,” said Giddeon, “there was the re-pressurizing of several of those old, capped underwater oil wells around the globe.”

  “Re-pressurizing?”

  “Yep…the a-biotic theory of petroleum turned out to be a player. Evidently, not all of the crude was from dead plants and animals; seems the mantle of the earth is something of an oil-producer. All of those capped holes in the seafloor eventually starting breaking down, and some of them spewed black gold into the water at alarming rates.” He gestured with his hands, in an attempt to mimic fluid flowing. “The good news was, there wasn’t an oil shortage… the bad news was, there wasn’t an oil shortage. Killed off a lot of the food chain in places.”

  I scratched my chin. “I see how that could be a problem.”

  Gid continued. “The leaks were actually dealt with, over time, and more permanent seals and monitoring systems were installed on the thousands and thousands of undersea ‘wounds’… so we kind of had a handle on that. The major event that caused trouble was something out of our control… the Yellowstone Caldera.”

  I nodded. “Oh, yeah… caldera…I’ve heard that term.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “A caldera is a super-volcano… an area of the earth’s crust that’s thin and prone to rupture from the forces beneath it. The Yellowstone one was thousands of times more destructive than a regular volcano. A hole the size of New Jersey blew outwards into the atmosphere, dumping several feet of ash and debris over much of the North American continent.” He took one hand out of his pocket and pointed upwards. “The sky became darkened for years, and the resulting temperature changes were dramatic. You can imagine what that did to crop production. Luckily, we had established colonies on the moon and Mars by that point.”

  “No kidding? What about the earth… did it recover?”

  “Oh, yes… for the most part.” He took his other hand from his pocket. “‘Today’ there are still people there, although the population is only a fraction of what it once was.” There were his finger quotes, again. “It’s basically a base of operations for the space stations in the neighborhood.”

  We walked on a few paces in silence. “So, how far in the future are we?”

  “About 26,252 years, give or take a couple of months. Leap Years always screw me up.”

  I wrinkled my brow. “What about Mars… do we still have colonies there?”

  “Oh, yes, and even a bit of atmosphere. Terra-farming, you know? We seeded it with microbes, and then, plants… they add new species as the conditions change. It’s not an exact science, but, they’re making progress. Much easier to find a place that’s pretty much ready to go, like this one. Trouble is, they’re far and few between.”

  I looked around me at the alien sky and landscape… it was quite stunning, in total. Gold mountains were in the distance. “How far and how few?”

  Giddeon shoved his hands in his pockets, again, and continued forward. “Pretty rare, it seems. And, even this Utopia doesn’t have a perfect balance… too much cyanide in the air. Everyone here has been genetically modified to handle it.”

  Maybe that explained the almond smell.

  “Really? I guess I’m glad we’re ‘ghosts’.”

  “I thought you didn’t like that term,” he said and smiled. “Actually, the citizens here prefer the atmosphere the way it is. Kind of gives them protection.”

  I looked back at him. “Protection… against what?”

  “Other humans,” he said. “Two hundred years ago they fought off an invasion, of sorts. A passing star-ship decided this looked like a good piece of real estate, so the newbies hatched a plot to kill off the inhabitants here with a parasite that doesn’t respond to any known therapies. Then, the invaders were going to circle the planet for a couple of generations until they and their progeny could be modified to handle the atmosphere. Luckily for the people on Eden, the cyanide rendered the microbes harmless.”

  Giddeon looked down and stepped over an earthworm-looking creature that was making its way across the path… it was bright yellow and segmented. We stopped and watched it with interest. It alternated between normal, wormlike movements, and then, rolling itself into a circle so it could make unbalanced rotations like a wheel. After a few unsteady revolutions it would flop over, continue on as a worm for a bit, and then roll itself back up to try, again.

  After a minute or so, we carried on forward and Giddeon went back to his narrative. “Before the invaders could cook up a Plan B, one of their group defected and tipped off the people here as to what had been attempted,” he said.

  “Wow! What’d they do?” I asked. Looking back, I saw that the yellow worm had finally made it into the thick, green grass there beside the walkway.

  “The Edenites used a technology that had just been developed. At the time, they had recently learned to manipulate brain waves through magnetic fields in order to induce a deep state of anesthesia for surgery patients. Thanks to the advanced state of their science, they were able to up the energy of the system and focus it like a beam.”

  “So…?”

  “They put the entire crew of the starship to sleep.”

  “No kidding? Man… that was smart.” I looked down, keeping an eye on the path for any more life forms. “What’d they do with them?”

  “What little military they had boarded the vessel and secured the invaders. Then, they took ‘em here to the surface where they all remain, today… in cryogenic hibernation.”

  “Frozen?”

  “A kinder, gentler type of warfare,” said Giddeon. “I don’t think they’re in any rush to thaw them out. Maybe in a few hundred years.”

  A flock of multicolored birds flew past, not far overhead. They looked very much like parrots, except their colors changed dramatically as they flew. “Wow!” I exclaimed as they spirited away. “Oh… what happened to the tipster? I’m sure he’s a local hero.”

  “Unfortunately, he died. The low levels of cyanide got him before they could do anything for him. However, they kept some of his tissue and his modified clone is treated like a king. They have a big party for him every year… I went to it, yesterday. By the way, a large chunk of the gross domestic product of Eden now goes to defense. They don’t want to rely on the kindness of strangers, anymore.”

  “Hmmm… almost a happy ending. I suppose some things never change,” I said.

  “As for the clone, they’ve implanted a lot of memories from the dead hero’s brain into him. For all practical purposes, he’s the same dude.”

  “Cool… by the way, what do you think they’ll have to eat for lunch?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “Vegetables.”

  We came to the edge of our destination.

  “I want to try some Petri-dish Rib Eye!”

  __________

  The Rib Eye was excellent. There must have been 400 people at the group meal. Tables and chairs were sp
rinkled around a clearing that covered maybe ten or fifteen acres. There were shade trees, similar to Mimosa, and fragrant, flowering bushes all around. I even saw a handful of children… they were always the center of attention of any cluster of people in their vicinity.

  Music was playing and food was handed out by workers that were dressed a bit more formally than most of the diners. Levitating trays followed the waiters and waitresses like well-trained dogs. Laughter and animated conversations accented the setting; the language was obviously a derivative of English, but, was as alien to me as the Old English of Shakespeare, if not more so. I only caught around every third word, or thereabouts, when I listened to a conversation.

  I noticed Giddeon had grown about 6 inches so that he was on a level with most of the females at the gathering.

  We walked around sampling food and drink like party crashers that wanted to get as much in as possible before being booted out. There was no danger of that, however, as we were quite undetectable. The fruits and vegetables were exquisite. The drinks were awesome, too. I could see why a foreign starship would set its sights on a bountiful planet like Eden.

  Dessert was a chocolate mousse of sorts. It was beyond good. Imagine the best chocolate you’ve ever tasted, and multiply it times four. The taste seemed to linger in my mouth for way longer than the sensation normally does; it was as if the receptors that detected the deliciousness just kept firing and firing. It felt like I could savor it all of the way down my esophagus, cool and smooth and luxurious. I think it was also mildly hallucinogenic. The colors and hues of people, plants and things all took on slightly oscillating characteristics when I was halfway done. I waved my hand in front of my face, and could see just the slightest hint of chromatic trails behind the passage. If I didn’t focus too hard, I could have sworn that the music playing in the background was visible around the periphery of my vision.

  Giddeon ate three cups of it.

  __________

  That afternoon, we took a trip into near Eden orbit. The spaceship that they had arrived on centuries before was basically an orbiting museum. It was huge, easily the size of two or three aircraft carriers, and was kept in pristine condition… I suppose in case it was ever needed, again. We wandered the interior and I was amazed at the ingenuity and engineering that must have been required to produce such a vehicle. It was quite remarkable, and even though it didn’t appear to be rotating, it somehow had its own gravity field.

  Up was up, and down was down as far as the floors and ceilings went.

  Giddeon explained that, according to what he could determine from their science, gravity might be thought of as more of a ‘push’ than a ‘pull’. He said that, apparently, virtual particles popping into and out of existence create a ‘force’, and the feeling of being drawn to a planet might be thought of as due to the summation of those particles ‘hitting’ your body… simply more are ‘hitting’ on the sides of you that are away from the ground… and, that is what is perceived as gravity.

  Massive objects, such as planets, somehow create interference patterns in space, and, apparently, these patterns sort of cancel each other out on the side of your body nearest the planet. This cancellation allows infinity to ‘push’ you down towards the ground… at least until you’re repelled by the stronger electromagnetic forces of electrons between your periphery and what’s below. In the future, evidently these kinds of interference patterns are replicated in order to produce ‘gravity’ on space-going craft. My enthusiastic physics tutor told me to look up something called the Casimir Effect when we got back.

  I never got around to it.

  There was a crew, dressed in what can only be described as a tribute to ‘Star Trek: The Next Generation’. A few tourists were on board, and we even passed a small group of about twenty, or so, elementary schoolchildren.

  The ship must have also doubled as a college, because there appeared to be lecture rooms… some with actual lectures taking place. Perpetual twenty-somethings sat in rapt attention as holograms filled the fronts of auditoriums. Giddeon and I wandered about for the better part of two hours while passing gardens, living quarters, restaurants and gymnasiums. Finally, we came to a wing that seemed to be dedicated to history and art.

  __________

  Paintings and sculptures adorned the rooms. The lighting was perfectly directed to give the maximum impact from each piece, and background music played softly in the air. It was beautiful in total; the whole area reflected Man’s journey down through the ages. Scattered among the art halls, in small alcoves, were holograms with audio… all recreating important figures and artists from the distant ‘past’. Of course, some of those figures hadn’t been born, yet, from our original frame of reference, but, many had.

  Giddeon and I listened to Martin Luther King give his ‘I Have A Dream’ speech in the strange, lilting dialect of Eden… it was almost like we were there, beside the reflecting pool. There was Abraham Lincoln and ‘The Gettysburg Address’. Patrick Henry with a recognizable version of ‘Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death’. Mother Theresa administering to the poor. Ghandi and Nelson Mandela walking amongst their people. Elvis singing ‘Blue Suede Shoes’. Mozart and Beethoven playing the piano… Michaelangelo chiseling away at ‘David’… also, Leonardo Da Vinci, Confucius, Galileo, Picasso and the Wright Brothers.

  All in 3-D, and as real as anyone you have ever seen.

  I suppose I had my answer to the question of if our cultures would be carried forward into time.

  Art, music and education hadn’t really changed all that much, despite technology… what was beautiful and informative, before, was beautiful and informative, then.

  __________

  Finally, we came to a room at the very end of the exhibit. Giddeon and I walked into the carpeted area, and even though it was already quiet in that area, a hush seemed to descend around us.

  It almost felt like we had entered a sanctuary, or a church.

  There, on a wall, hung a painting… a stunning, beautiful painting. It was surreal. Not really done in a realistic style, but, almost. Just a hint of impressionistic flavor accented the edge of the subjects.

  I stood there in amazement, taking in the aura of concern, compassion and love that was expressed on the face of a woman. She had on a veil, of sorts, thrown back over her head. She was looking down and cradling the head of a man in her hands; his face was turned mostly away from view. A tear spilled down her cheek… it was difficult to tell for certain if it was a tear of joy, or sorrow. For quite some time I was rooted to the floor with shock, because there was no mistaking the vision of loveliness hanging on that wall before us. No mistaking it at all.

  Melody.

  Chapter 51

  Back on Eden, Giddeon appeared just as amazed as I was by what we had seen. What on Earth was a portrait of Melody doing on a spaceship/museum circling a planet 500 light years from our home and 26,000 years in the future? It didn’t seem possible.

  “Holy Cow! In this time-line, it looks like Melody became an important figure… maybe in the arts or politics,” exclaimed Giddeon.

  “That was definitely her,” I confirmed.

  After a few moments of contemplation, Giddeon replied, “Looked like her to me.”

  “Well… she does paint…” I offered.

  “And, she’s getting a Master’s in Ecology,” he responded. “Could be something to do with that.”

  I scratched my head, and then shoved my hands down deep into my pockets. “Don’t forget Philosophy… maybe she becomes a famous philosopher.”

  “Too weird,” said Giddeon. “There were no inscriptions… like she didn’t need an introduction.”

  “Bizarre.” I shook my head.

  “Humph,” Giddeon grunted.

  We were walking along the same green path on which we had traveled to arrive at the noon time meal. This time, we were headed in the other direction. I looked around me at the terrain which was filled with a mixture of familiar and unfamiliar vegetation. Flowers
on nearby vines and trees were in the process of opening; most seemed to emit a sweet fragrance into the early afternoon air, and the mixture of smells was wonderful. “Giddeon… is any of this even real? I mean, there are so many alternate futures… do you think it’s possible that you just picked one subconsciously that has a direct connection to us?”

  “I am the subconscious… I’m not sure I have one.”

  “Humph.” It was my turn to grunt. He had a point. “Well, I told you she was special.”

  “That she is… that she is,” agreed my counterpart. We walked on in silence for a bit. Finally, my companion spoke, “Hey… did you notice anything about the guy she was holding?”

  “Not really… I was concentrating on her. What about him?”

  Giddeon was quiet for a moment, as if deciding something. Then,

  “He sort of looked like you.”

  __________

  We spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the planet. The beaches were indeed nude beaches. The only difference between nude beaches there and on Earth was that instead of old, out-of-shape men and the occasional, adventurous middle-aged woman, everyone on Eden was in their prime. It looked like the cast of some hip, young T.V. series was filming naked on the sands. They even surfed in the buff.

  The cities were amazing. The architecture and designs were phenomenal… like Frank Lloyd Wright on steroids and acid. From what I could tell, the population centers were mostly laid out with a central plaza, and the streets radiated outwards from them like spokes of a wheel. No flying cars… at least, not any that I saw. I did see some spheres that may have contained people and products, but, they moved about more like dirigibles, sort of slow and deliberate. When they reached their destinations, they would shimmer and disappear.

  Even Giddeon just shook his head and shrugged his shoulders at that.

  There were bicycles, motorcycles and scooters, much like we have on Earth… except there was no sound from engines of any kind. Periodically, on the larger routes, a vehicle of sorts would glide by, inches off the ground as if held up by some type of magnetic repulsion. The cities had a definite perimeter, and at the edges there were no suburbs… just an immediate transition to green vegetation and flowers.