Armageddon—2419 A.D.

  CHAPTER III

  Life in the 25th Century

  We were delayed in starting for quite a while since I had to acquire afew crude ideas about the technique of using these belts. I had beensitting down, for instance, with the belt strapped about me, enjoying anease similar to that of a comfortable armchair; when I stood up with anatural exertion of muscular effort, I shot ten feet into the air, witha wild instinctive thrashing of arms and legs that amused Wilma greatly.

  But after some practice, I began to get the trick of gauging musculareffort to a minimum of vertical and a maximum of horizontal. The correctform, I found, was in a measure comparable to that of skating. I found,also, that in forest work particularly the arms and hands could be usedto great advantage in swinging along from branch to branch, soprolonging leaps almost indefinitely at times.

  In going up the side of the mountain, I found that my 20th Centurymuscles did have an advantage, in spite of lack of skill with the belt,and since the slopes were very sharp, and most of our leaps were upward,I could have distanced Wilma easily. But when we crossed the ridge anddescended, she outstripped me with her superior technique. Choosing thesteepest slopes, she would crouch in the top of a tree, and propelherself outward, literally diving until, with the loss of horizontalmomentum, she would assume a more upright position and float downward.In this manner she would sometimes cover as much as a quarter of a milein a single leap, while I leaped and scrambled clumsily behind,thoroughly enjoying the novel sensation.

  Half way down the mountain, we saw another green-clad figure leap outabove the tree tops toward us. The three of us perched on an outcroppingof rock from which a view for many miles around could be had, whileWilma hastily explained her adventure and my presence to her fellowguard; whose name was Alan. I learned later that this was the modernform of Helen.

  "You want to report by phone then, don't you?" Alan took a compactpacket about six inches square from a holster attached to her belt andhanded it to Wilma.

  So far as I could see, it had no special receiver for the ear. Wilmamerely threw back a lid, as though she were opening a book, and began totalk. The voice that came back from the machine was as audible as herown.

  She was queried closely as to the attack upon her, and at considerablelength as to myself, and I could tell from the tone of that voice thatits owner was not prepared to take me at my face value as readily asWilma had. For that matter, neither was the other girl. I could realizeit from the suspicious glances she threw my way, when she thought myattention was elsewhere, and the manner in which her hand hoveredconstantly near her gun holster.

  Wilma was ordered to bring me in at once, and informed that anotherscout would take her place on the other side of the mountain. So sheclosed down the lid of the phone and handed it back to Alan, who seemedrelieved to see us departing over the tree tops in the direction of thecamps.

  We had covered perhaps ten miles, in what still seemed to me asurprisingly easy fashion, when Wilma explained, that from here on wewould have to keep to the ground. We were nearing the camps, she said,and there was always the possibility that some small Han scoutship,invisible high in the sky, might catch sight of us through aprojectoscope and thus find the general location of the camps.

  Wilma took me to the Scout office, which proved to be a small buildingof irregular shape, conforming to the trees around it, and substantiallyconstructed of green sheet-like material.

  I was received by the assistant Scout Boss, who reported my arrival atonce to the historical office, and to officials he called the PsychoBoss and the History Boss, who came in a few minutes later. The attitudeof all three men was at first polite but skeptical, and Wilma's ardentadvocacy seemed to amuse them secretly.

  For the next two hours I talked, explained and answered questions. I hadto explain, in detail, the manner of my life in the 20th Century and myunderstanding of customs, habits, business, science and the history ofthat period, and about developments in the centuries that had elapsed.Had I been in a classroom, I would have come through the examinationwith a very poor mark, for I was unable to give any answer to fully halfof their questions. But before long I realized that the majority ofthese questions were designed as traps. Objects, of whose purpose I knewnothing, were casually handed to me, and I was watched keenly as Ihandled them.

  In the end I could see both amazement and belief begin to show in thefaces of my inquisitors, and at last the Historical and Psycho Bossesagreed openly that they could find no flaw in my story or reactions, andthat unbelievable as it seemed, my story must be accepted as genuine.

  They took me at once to Big Boss Hart. He was a portly man with a "pokerface." He would probably have been the successful politician even in the20th Century.

  They gave him a brief outline of my story and a report of theirexamination of me. He made no comment other than to nod his acceptanceof it. Then he turned to me.

  "How does it feel?" he asked. "Do we look funny to you?"

  "A bit strange," I admitted. "But I'm beginning to lose that dazedfeeling, though I can see I have an awful lot to learn."

  "Maybe we can learn some things from you, too," he said. "So you foughtin the First World War. Do you know, we have very little left in the wayof records of the details of that war, that is, the precise conditionsunder which it was fought, and the tactics employed. We forgot manythings during the Han terror, and--well, I think you might have a lot ofideas worth thinking over for our raid masters. By the way, now thatyou're here, and can't go back to your own century, so to speak, what doyou want to do? You're welcome to become one of us. Or perhaps you'djust like to visit with us for a while, and then look around among theother gangs. Maybe you'd like some of the others better. Don't make upyour mind now. We'll put you down as an exchange for a while. Let's see.You and Bill Hearn ought to get along well together. He's Camp Boss ofNumber 34 when he isn't acting as Raid Boss or Scout Boss. There's avacancy in his camp. Stay with him and think things over as long as youwant to. As soon as you make up your mind to anything, let me know."

  We all shook hands, for that was one custom that had not died out infive hundred years, and I set out with Bill Hearn.

  Bill, like all the others, was clad in green. He was a big man. That is,he was about my own height, five feet eleven. This was considerablyabove the average now, for the race had lost something in stature, itseemed, through the vicissitudes of five centuries. Most of the womenwere a bit below five feet, and the men only a trifle above this height.

  For a period of two weeks Bill was to confine himself to camp duties, soI had a good chance to familiarize myself with the community life. Itwas not easy. There were so many marvels to absorb. I never ceased towonder at the strange combination of rustic social life and feverishindustrial activity. At least, it was strange to me. For in myexperience, industrial development meant crowded cities, tenements,paved streets, profusion of vehicles, noise, hurrying men and women withstrained or dull faces, vast structures and ornate public works.

  Here, however, was rustic simplicity, apparently isolated families andgroups, living in the heart of the forest, with a quarter of a mile ormore between households, a total absence of crowds, no means ofconveyance other than the belts called jumpers, almost constantly wornby everybody, and an occasional rocket ship, used only for longerjourneys, and underground plants or factories that were to my mind morelike laboratories and engine rooms; many of them were excavations asdeep as mines, with well finished, lighted and comfortable interiors.These people were adepts at camouflage against air observation. Not onlywould their activity have been unsuspected by an airship passing overthe center of the community, but even by an enemy who might happen todrop through the screen of the upper branches to the floor of theforest. The camps, or household structures, were all irregular in shapeand of colors that blended with the great trees among which they werehidden.

  There were 724 dwellings or "camps" among the Wyomings, located withinan area of about fifteen square miles. The total population was 8,
688,every man, woman and child, whether member or "exchange," being listed.

  The plants were widely scattered through the territory also. Nowhere wasanything like congestion permitted. So far as possible, families andindividuals were assigned to living quarters, not too far from theplants or offices in which their work lay.

  All able-bodied men and women alternated in two-week periods betweenmilitary and industrial service, except those who were needed forhousehold work. Since working conditions in the plants and offices wereideal, and everybody thus had plenty of healthy outdoor activity inaddition, the population was sturdy and active. Laziness was regarded asnearly the greatest of social offenses. Hard work and general merit werevariously rewarded with extra privileges, advancement to positions ofauthority, and with various items of personal equipment for convenienceand luxury.

  In leisure moments, I got great enjoyment from sitting outside thedwelling in which I was quartered with Bill Hearn and ten other men,watching the occasional passers-by, as with leisurely, but swiftmovements, they swung up and down the forest trail, rising from theground in long almost-horizontal leaps, occasionally swinging from oneconvenient branch overhead to another before "sliding" back to theground farther on. Normal traveling pace, where these trails werestraight enough, was about twenty miles an hour. Such things asautomobiles and railroad trains (the memory of them not more than amonth old in my mind) seemed inexpressibly silly and futile comparedwith such convenience as these belts or jumpers offered.

  Bill suggested that I wander around for several days, from plant toplant, to observe and study what I could. The entire community had beenapprised of my coming, my rating as an "exchange" reaching everybuilding and post in the community, by means of ultronic broadcast.Everywhere I was welcomed in an interested and helpful spirit.

  I visited the plants where ultronic vibrations were isolated from theether and through slow processes built up into sub-electronic,electronic and atomic forms into the two great synthetic elements,ultron and inertron. I learned something, superficially at least, of theprocesses of combined chemical and mechanical action through which wereproduced the various forms of synthetic cloth. I watched the manufactureof the machines which were used at locations of construction to producethe various forms of building materials. But I was particularlyinterested in the munitions plants and the rocket-ship shops.

  Ultron is a solid of great molecular density and moderate elasticity,which has the property of being 100 percent conductive to thosepulsations known as light, electricity and heat. Since it is completelypermeable to light vibrations, it is therefore _absolutely invisible andnon-reflective_. Its magnetic response is almost, but not quite, 100percent also. It is therefore very heavy under normal conditions butextremely responsive to the _repellor_ or anti-gravity rays, such as theHans use as "_legs_" for their airships.

  Inertron is the second great triumph of American research andexperimentation with ultronic forces. It was developed just a few yearsbefore my awakening in the abandoned mine. It is a synthetic element,built up, through a complicated heterodyning of ultronic pulsations,from "infra-balanced" sub-ionic forms. It is completely inert to bothelectric and magnetic forces in all the orders above the _ultronic_;that is to say, the _sub-electronic_, the _electronic_, the _atomic_ andthe _molecular_. In consequence it has a number of amazing andvaluable properties. One of these is _the total lack of weight_. Anotheris a total lack of heat. It has no molecular vibration whatever. Itreflects 100 percent of the heat and light impinging upon it. It doesnot feel cold to the touch, of course, since it will not absorb the heatof the hand. It is a solid, very dense in molecular structure despiteits lack of weight, of great strength and considerable elasticity. It isa perfect shield against the disintegrator rays.

  Setting his rocket gun for a long-distance shot.]

  Rocket guns are very simple contrivances so far as the mechanism oflaunching the bullet is concerned. They are simple light tubes, closedat the rear end, with a trigger-actuated pin for piercing the thin skinat the base of the cartridge. This piercing of the skin starts thechemical and atomic reaction. The entire cartridge leaves the tube underits own power, at a very easy initial velocity, just enough to insureaccuracy of aim; so the tube does not have to be of heavy construction.The bullet increases in velocity as it goes. It may be solid orexplosive. It may explode on contact or on time, or a combination ofthese two.

  Bill and I talked mostly of weapons, military tactics and strategy.Strangely enough he had no idea whatever of the possibilities of thebarrage, though the tremendous effect of a "curtain of fire" with suchhigh-explosive projectiles as these modern rocket guns used was obviousto me. But the barrage idea, it seemed, has been lost track ofcompletely in the air wars that followed the First World War, and in thepeculiar guerilla tactics developed by Americans in the later period ofoperations from the ground against Han airships, and in the gang warswhich, until a few generations ago I learned, had been almostcontinuous.

  "I wonder," said Bill one day, "if we couldn't work up some form ofbarrage to spring on the Bad Bloods. The Big Boss told me today thathe's been in communication with the other gangs, and all are agreed thatthe Bad Bloods might as well be wiped out for good. That attempt onWilma Deering's life and their evident desire to make trouble among thegangs, has stirred up every community east of the Alleghenies. The Bosssays that none of the others will object if we go after them. So Iimagine that before long we will. Now show me again how you worked thatbusiness in the Argonne forest. The conditions ought to be pretty muchthe same."

  I went over it with him in detail, and gradually we worked out amodified plan that would be better adapted to our more powerful weapons,and the use of jumpers.

  "It will be easy," Bill exulted. "I'll slide down and talk it over withthe Boss tomorrow."

  During the first two weeks of my stay with the Wyomings, Wilma Deeringand I saw a great deal of each other. I naturally felt a little closerfriendship for her, in view of the fact that she was the first humanbeing I saw after waking from my long sleep; her appreciation of mysaving her life, though I could not have done otherwise than I did inthat matter, and most of all my own appreciation of the fact that shehad not found it as difficult as the others to believe my story,operated in the same direction. I could easily imagine my story musthave sounded incredible.

  It was natural enough too, that she should feel an unusual interest inme. In the first place, I was her personal discovery. In the second, shewas a girl of studious and reflective turn of mind. She never got tiredof my stories and descriptions of the 20th Century.

  The others of the community, however, seemed to find our friendship abit amusing. It seemed that Wilma had a reputation for being cold towardthe opposite sex, and so others, not being able to appreciate some ofher fine qualities as I did, misinterpreted her attitude, much to theirown delight. Wilma and I, however, ignored this as much as we could.