Markman stood suited-up in the sensesuit test area, his helmet under one arm. For the first time, John Paul seemed in a hurry. It was obvious he was trying to conceal it, but at the same time, his dashing from station to station was a dead give away. It made Markman wish that Cassiopia was with them. John Paul kept looking over at Markman, raising one finger to let him know they were just about ready. Markman nodded passively back at each gesture. When the signal was finally given, he pulled the helmet down over his head and rode the beam of light back to the Centrex Pyramid. Trill was there waiting and seemed just as wound up as John Paul.
“My lord, greetings, and welcome. Are you well, sir?”
“Thank you, Trill. Yes, all is well.”
“Will you be working here or traveling, sir?”
“Please contact DuMont, and tell him to have Jax meet me at the Aurora Central Library with the equipment I requested.”
“Very well, sir. Do you require any other resources?”
“No, I do not. Do you think there will be any trouble from the Crillian High Council?”
“Sir, one never knows.”
“Really?”
“Sir, there is related news from the Office of Central Assurance. I have printed it out if you would prefer to read it yourself. After your recent visit to the High Council, two council members were caught attempting to withdraw large creditor sums from government subsidy accounts. Apparently, your visit instilled fear that you were retained to investigate the council members. It was found that these two council members had been secretly conducting business not in the best interest of the Crillian people. A third council member is also under suspicion and is being held by the OCA. Needless to say, the High Council is in somewhat of a state of confusion at this time.”
“Trill, were any of the suspect council members the Elders?”
“No sir, the three Elders were found not to be involved. They are apparently as outraged as the citizens of Crillia.”
“Will all of this turn out alright?”
“Yes, my lord. It is an inquisition that was apparently overdue. Oddly enough, you are being credited with protecting the Crillian people from unscrupulous individuals who could have seriously harmed the state.”
“Oh boy.…”
“Sir, may I show you?” Trill tapped a crystal control, and a large display screen appeared on the wall opposite them. To Markman’s dismay, it was the Crillian Convention show. All the regulars were there. This time, the set was in upheaval. One commentator was sprawled out on the discussion table face up with another member fanning her face with a cardboard advertising sign. The others were milling around the table arguing.
“You see? You see the absolute chaos this had caused. A member of our group fainting on a live broadcast?” said Guhe, pausing to look over his fallen comrade.
“All I said was that the council must have needed a check up. How else would we ever have known about the impropriety?”
“The Overlord made no appointment. He just barged into a closed meeting, offended the Elders themselves, and then interrogated them as though they were common citizens,” argued Guhe.
“The council was dismissed without explanation!” said Belina.
“Yes, in hindsight that was a bad choice,” added Gerenda.
“And, the Elders are supposed to be common citizens, Guhe,” offered Belina.
Trill switched off the video. “Sir, the Crillian Convention is receiving the highest ratings its discussion panel has ever commanded. That is why they are not switching the broadcast off. Your unexpected visit has caused a very overdue appraisal of Crillian politics. The other branches are now calling for inquisition. It is heartening to see.”
“I seem to be an elephant in a china shop, Trill.”
“Sir?”
“It’s an old saying. Someone tromping around where they shouldn’t.”
“Many people are commending you for your exploits, sir. You are quite popular now all over Crillia.”
“Trill, would you please keep track of all this. Let me know if I get into any kind of trouble. I mean, more than I’m already in.”
“I will be happy to, sir.”
“I’ll need the hooded cloak, Trill.”
“Very well, sir. Will you be traveling by transport or tube rider?”
“Transport, please Trill. I want to get to it.”
Trill went to an alcove nearby and withdrew Markman’s cloak. He approached and held it open. Markman complied by slipping his arms in. The weight of the thing surprised him as he pulled up the hood and wrapped the front closed. In the transport tube there was no waiting. A quick nod and Trill waved one hand. Markman was there.
The Main Square was busy. During the transport, Markman wondered if his cloak might no longer be an adequate disguise. Upon exiting the transport tube, he looked around and held back a laugh. The crowded street was filled with people heading one way or the other, and nearly half of them had on cloaks exactly like Markman’s. Apparently Crillian fashion was being strongly influenced by someone with no fashion sense at all. Had Cassiopia been at her station, it was likely she would have fallen out of her seat laughing.
Markman stood in shadow across from the library and watched the comings and goings. Quite a few beamer cars floated by in both directions. Some storefronts were completely changing design every few minutes. Holographic salesmen continued to appear and fade away as passerby’s ignored them. One storefront was a complete movie screen projecting 3D movie clips. Lighted colored squares in the sidewalks were tripping on and off everywhere. People were riding the squares up and down the street. Except for audio coming from some buildings, not a word was being spoken except by holograms and other advertisements.
A motley group of utility workers in bright yellow uniforms pulled up to the library and unloaded equipment. A few minutes later, a crazy man riding a small jet engine with handlebars and no wheels jetted into view and stopped in front of them. It was Jax. Markman made his way across the busy street as Jax dismounted. He spotted Markman immediately. He unzipped a chest pocket on his light blue coveralls and slipped something he had been wearing on his wrist into it. Markman stepped onto a blue rectangle on the sidewalk and turned to Jax. “You ready?”
Jax went to the group of utility men and after a brief exchange hoisted what looked like a small jet pack onto his back. One of the utility men made a few adjustments and patted a ready signal. Leaning slightly forward, Jax returned to Markman. “Chemical laser. You can’t beat ‘em.”
“We really know what we’re doing?”
Jax shook his head. “I thought you did? We know how to use the laser. I went over it with these guys last night. But no, we don’t know what we’re doing…Sir”
Markman laughed. He nodded acknowledgment to the utility guys and headed for the library with Jax close behind.
“You don’t think we’ll attract any attention in here, do you?”
Jax smirked. “No more than possible….sir.”
Inside, the library was crowded. Enough patrons were gathered at the main desk that the two attendants did not see the pair pass by. Most other visitors did. They stopped what they were doing and gawked at the strange man with the rocket pack on his back being led by a man in a hooded brown cloak. This time a security guard was present. He locked in on them immediately and headed in a direction to cut them off. He managed to reach the elevator the same time they did.
“Halt. Identification please,” he said aloud.
Jax could not resist. “Identification? For the public library? What you need identification for?”
“Let me see your ID unless you want a ride downtown.”
Markman could not resist. “Ride downtown? Jax, you told me this was downtown….”
“Citizens, I’m not going to fool around with you. You here to exterminate rodents or something? I need to see some ID.”
“You want ID? Okay, I’m Jax Romo, chief pilot at the Terra Nova Castle, Skyway Terrace, and this is the O
verlord. You need any other ID?”
A look of fear came over the man’s face. He stepped back and took a long hard look at the hooded man standing next to Jax. More confirmation was needed, but asking for it seemed a bit treacherous. Markman remembered his visit to the Thought Exchange. He held out one hand, the long cuffed sleeve hanging down. He concentrated on his open hand. Ever so slowly, a golden coin appeared in his palm. He took it between his thumb and forefinger and held it out to the guard. “For your trouble, officer.”
The guard stood stunned. Markman continued to hold out the coin. Hand shaking, the guard slowly reached out and took it.
The elevator door opened. Jax began laughing under his breath and stepped inside. Markman nodded at his newest believer and followed. The doors slid shut. With the tap of the bottom button, they started down.
“You never offered me a gold coin, and I’ve visited hell with you. Not only that, we’re on our way there again!”
Markman held out his hand and formed another gold coin. Jax looked down at it, up at Markman, then begrudgingly reached out and took it. “Good. A real souvenir. Thanks, Boss.”
Once again the elevator stopped one story short, as though it was not programmed to descend to the bottom. Markman re-tapped the button and the car dropped one more floor.
Beyond the open elevator doors, the darkened, dirt-covered hallway was unchanged. In the adjacent utility room, the oval hatch opened more easily this time. Jax and Markman descended the short, dirt ramp, their headlamps casting eerie shadows around an eerie hole in the ground. The brick wall stood violated from their previous visit, the dark passageway beyond still largely unexplored and intriguing. Markman had to pull himself away from staring into it. Jax was already setting up the chemical laser in front of the dirty cement wall.
“See that main valve on the back of my pack? Twist that thing full open, will you?”
Markman pulled back his hood and complied. “What else?”
Jax twisted around to look at him. “Pick a spot. Get ready for some dust.”
Markman placed a finger in the dead center of the wall and drew an X in the dirt. Jax tugged free a long wand attached to his backpack and waved for him to stand back. A loud crack brought a hot blue beam at the end of the wand. Jax took a careful forward stance at the wall and brought the beam to bear. There was smoke accompanied by crackling and hissing. Liquefied cement began to fall away from the wall.
Ever so slowly a seam began to open. Jax skillfully cut a waist high arc for the top of the opening, the strongest possible shape in case the wall was load bearing. It took thirty minutes to bring the first side all the way down to ground level, and then another thirty minutes for the other. When he was done, Jax cut off the fuel feed and the blue arc died with a pop. He unstrapped himself from the torch and set it gently on the ground.
The two men stood looking at the cutaway cement still blocking their passage. Markman removed his cloak and folded it neatly by the torch. He took a position in front of the newly formed door, braced and placed a solid side kick into the arch. The chunk of cement gave way easily and made a whoomp sound as it fell inward leaving a newly opened doorway to darkness.
Jax said, “Well congratulations. It does look like there’s a space back there. Don’t get your hopes up. It may be only three or four feet deep.”
Markman took his hand lamp and bent over at the opening. He maneuvered his light in. “It’s deep,” he said. He stepped one leg through, worked a shoulder in and squeezed past. Inside he stood, his headlamp casting beams into the deep chamber. The hand lantern was much brighter. This was not a tunnel. It was a large room. There was a long, dirt-covered table in the center. What appeared to be shelves with accumulations of dirt lined every wall. Some sort of dust-covered equipment was stacked here and there. The ceiling was fairly high. It was impossible to tell what the walls floor and ceiling were made of, but the shelves went all the way to the top.
Markman trudged through the dirt and debris and went to the closest shelf. Jax squeezed in behind him. The dirt on the shelves was so deep he had to wipe some away to see if anything was there. His hand quickly hit buried objects. He wiped enough away to make out the shapes. They were books. A pang of joy raced through Markman. That was the best thing he could have hoped for. This chamber was full of information. There had to be information about the tunnels and the Salantians here. It only made sense.
Excitedly he worked a book out of its place and held it carefully in one hand. The cover had markings but was too old and too worn to make out. He set down his hand lamp, and as carefully as possible opened the cover. The pages were ready to fall out and disintegrate. As gently as he could, he turned to the title page. Shock suddenly filled his mind. He stared down at the title and shook his head in disbelief.
The Adventures Of Huckleberry Finn
Mark Twain
Markman stood dazed by what he held in his hand. He carefully placed it back on the shelf and took down another. It was 'The Catcher In The Rye.' He dusted away more and found himself standing in a section of classic Earth books. He backed away and tried to understand. It made no sense at all.
The large table in the room’s center had the outline of several very large volumes covered in dust. They were the size of large script Bibles. As Jax mused himself wandering around, Markman went to the table and dusted off the nearest book. Excitement coursed through his veins. The embedded title was The Exodus, but this was not a Bible. He wiped away the dirt from the book next to it, President’s Daily Log. Markman cleared off a spot on the table, and ever-so-carefully opened the President’s Daily Log. There was a preface. A long one. Using his hand lantern for more light, he leaned against the dirty table and began to read.
Let us begin the recording of our new history with the telling of the genesis from which it arose. It is the story of a lost race that refused to die. Perhaps that is humankind’s proudest legacy, our determination that as long as we still breathe, we never give up.
We do not know exactly when the Salantians began their invasion of Earth. Most computer records from that time were lost in the exodus. We only know that the enemy was well prepared and knew exactly what to expect. That was centuries ago. This prehistory account is a compilation of stories handed down from generation to generation combined with what little documentation survived from those terrible times. The invaders opened doorways all over the world, and once Salantian queens were introduced, the battle was all but lost. The egg-layers, so prolific their reproduction, left no hope of turning back the onslaught. Earth’s military responded immediately to the threat, but the early battles quickly became defensive. Walled military installations were formed to reduce the slaughter. They soon became the only refuge. It was known from the beginning that these defensive positions would eventually fall, and after decades of fighting, few remained. A few human colonies were able to exist deep within hidden government bunkers, but in the end it was the cold that saved the remaining few. The Salantians could not exist in sub-zero temperatures. The Arctic and Antarctic became our only safe haven. The Salantians knew pockets of humans had escaped to Terra Nova Bay and DuMont D’Urville, but their vulnerability to cold was so absolute they were not able to mount an offense against those colonies. Communications were eventually set up, and a network of human resistance finally established. There was no chance of repulsing the invaders. Our forefather’s only goal was to stay alive for as long as possible. Combat teams dared visits to the homeland under protection of darkness and winter to find and bring back food and other expendables. It provided a minimal existence, and in time we learned more and more about our benefactors. The more we learned, the worse our situation seemed.
The Salantian devils were not only harvesting humans, they were also collecting and storing Earth’s natural resources. They were processing the rain forests, lakes and rivers, extracting minerals from the soils, and separating and collecting oxygen from Earth’s atmosphere. They were storing this harvest for future use.
Eventually, we were able to measure the change in the air we breathed, along with the rate it was deteriorating. Earth, as we knew it, was being dismantled. As the environment worsened, the Salantian population finally began to depart. It was first thought this was because they were exhausting Earth’s resources. We were wrong.
Something in the night sky had changed. A group of students was the first to document it. There was a new star in the sky, brighter than all but the sun. It was quickly understood that this was not a star, but a rogue planet. Some scientists insisted it was Nibiru, the legendary ninth planet, long theorized but never before seen. Only a few days were required to establish it was growing brighter. More accurately, it was moving closer.
Nibiru was calculated to be four times larger than the Earth. Its path would take it on the worst possible course through our solar system. Its passing would affect the balance of several other planets, and on its current trajectory, it would ellipse into an orbit around the sun very close to that of Earth. There was no way to understand the gravitational upheavals that would occur. The only hope was to gather as many supplies as possible and take refuge underground.
As predicted, the impacts from Nibiru were cataclysmic. Tidal waves, massive storms, a shifting of the poles. Periods of calm followed by additional upheavals. Sections of continents disappeared under water. Some human colonies were lost. Scientists at the Amundsen-Scott Research Station Observatory began to suspect that Nibiru’s path could not account for all of the gravitational anomalies affecting our system. Calculations showed that Nibiru must have brought something even worse along with it. An unknown singularity was following Nibiru. Further disruption of the orbits of the outer planets soon confirmed that, just in time to predict greater coming cataclysms.
The biggest change of all occurred with the sun. As Nibiru and its companion continued to upset the balance of our solar system and neared Earth, the sun began to reform itself. Over the next century, it gradually began to take on an hourglass shape. Solar flares were continuous. The hourglass form became more and more defined until finally, a complete separation occurred, leaving two suns rotating about each other. In that same time period, Nibiru finally settled into an orbit very close to Earth’s.
For the next few years, our system seemed to stabilize to its new gravity map. It became safe to stay on the surface. As expected, exploration teams found no Salantians remaining. They had bequeathed us a dead, depleted planet. There would be no raising of crops. Good water was scarce. The air difficult to breathe. The generations of survivors that were left had endured such unthinkable chaos it was difficult to accept that time was now running out.
As the search for food grew more desperate, an ironic discovery changed the future. A functional vortport was found, still running on the Salantian power generator left behind in the tunnels beneath what had been Washington, D.C. The Salantians had been forced to leave one operational vortport so the last of them could leave. The vortport was still open to wherever they had gone. It was quickly assumed that had to be the next planet they were harvesting. Wherever that was, that society was now going through hell, and there was no way to help them.
Although the vortport technology was beyond our understanding, over time we were able to reset the system to the last place the Salantians had been, the last planet they had destroyed before attacking ours. A very brave team dared to pass through the vortport and emerged onto Crillia. To their surprise, Crillia turned out to be Nibiru. Earth was visible in the night sky.
Our Crillian inheritance was a blessing in disguise. Though there was not a single Crillian left alive, their race had been extremely advanced. Most of the Crillian infrastructure was still intact. Power systems were still operating. Buildings had withstood the test of time. Many vehicles still operated. In the few hundred years since the destruction at the hands of the Salantians, even the plant life had returned. We quickly realized an exodus to Crillia was for us, an escape from extinction.
So the great Exodus began. Several hundred passed through the vortport every day. We spread out across the planet, learning Crillian as we went. We learned that the Crillian power systems were deep tunnels that went all the way to the planet’s core. A malfunction of part of that system in the western hemisphere had caused several massive, perpetuated explosions. It was theorized those explosions had thrown Crillia off its original orbit and brought it to us.
Twenty-two thousand, three hundred and eighty of us passed through that vortport and emerged into the underbelly of the Crillian Aurora City Library. This is the story of a race of people who faced generations of hell but never gave up. What follows in this log are the daily accomplishments in setting up a new world and new society. Peace be with all who read this.
Markman stared at the dirty, smudged preface and struggled to believe. If true, it meant the civilization living on Crillia was not comprised of Crillians at all, but rather humans from Earth. Markman looked up at Jax, still exploring different parts of the chamber. That would make him a descendant of some family originally from Earth. The scope of it was too much. Markman shook himself back to reality. He needed to gather as much of this data as possible. It would take a very long time to read these large volumes, but he didn’t have to. He knew that simply looking at a printed page for a moment would allow John Paul’s people to scan and store it. He began a slow and deliberate turning of pages in the President’s Logbook. When done, he would go on to the Exodus volume, and then to as many more as he could find relevant.
Jax began taking down books from the other end of the room, glancing over them, and putting them back.
“Jax, handle them carefully. They contain important information.”
Jax looked up from the book in his hand. “What language is this?”
“It’s English, Jax. Ever hear of it?”
“Nope.”
Markman stood in silent awe at the thought that humans had taken on the Crillian language as their own. Had it not been for the sensesuit computer translating for him, Markman would not even be able to talk with these descendants from Earth.
“Haven’t seen anything here worth a good bottle of bourbon,” said Jax.
“Just be careful with them, Jax. And, you must not tell anyone what we’ve found here. That’s really important. Okay?”
“Okay, Boss.”
Two hours later, Markman had covered several books related to the Exodus and the history of Earth and Crillia. It was time to exit the system. Jax gathered up the equipment, and they made their way to the elevator. As the doors closed, Jax asked, “Can you really read that weird stuff that fast?”
“Not really. There’s a trick to it.”
“Did you find what you were looking for, Boss?”
“Maybe.”
As the elevator slowed, Markman brushed the dirt from his cloak. “Jax, would you return that stuff for me and thank those guys. I’m going to transport back to the Centrex Pyramid right from here. I’ll catch you on the next trip. Thanks for everything.”
“There’s a transport tube just past the elevators by the rear exit. You gonna use it?”
“I don’t need a tube, Jax. After you leave the elevator, I’ll close the doors and jump from right here.”
“Really…?”
“Yes.”
“You can do that?”
“Yes.”
The elevator doors opened. Jax stepped out and turned back. “That’s a good trick, Boss.”
“Thanks again, Jax. See you soon.”
The doors swished closed. Markman touched the gold triangle on his chest. The familiar light wave carried him back to the Centrex Pyramid. Trill was waiting.
“My lord, a safe return. Thanks be to the Gods of Terra.”
“Trill, I need you to do something else for me.”
“I am at your service always, my lord.”
“I want the Aurora Central Library elevator modified so that no one except me can go down to the lowest level. Have Jax coordinate that. He knows
the place well. It is very important. Make it happen as quickly as you can, and please try to make the change without anyone going down to that lowest level. Can you see if that can be done?”
“Yes, my lord. Right away. I’m sure the High Council will approve.”
“Thanks. I’m ready for suit disengagement.” Markman removed his cloak, draped it over a control seat, and entered the transport tube.
“My lord, please return soon. Your presence seems to uplift Crillia. You are well loved here.”
“Take care of yourself, Trill. That’s an order.”
Trill waved his hand across the crystal control. A blast of white light took Markman back to his own reality, where the story of Earth’s future waited to be unraveled.
Chapter 16