by Luke Donegan
“The fish was harvested before Passage,” explained Jay simply. “When the body dies before Passage, the flesh remains.”
“Yes,” said the Teacher. “Dead before its allocated time on this earth. The flesh remains, and it must be so, for all creatures must eat. Pre-Passage death is a biological necessity. Thus we harvest fish and chicken, and grow vegetables and grain, and we kill this life before its time, so that we can survive. Now,” and she looked at him with keen, intelligent eyes. “This fish we are eating was harvested for our survival. But now that it has died a pre-Passage death, what has become of its Spirit?”
Jay did not know the answer. He placed his fork carefully on the plate. Some of the fish remained uneaten.
“I hope that its Spirit has found its way on the great wind,” he said. “But I do not know.”
“No-one knows,” said the Teacher. “But it could be that we are like parasites, consuming their Spirits so that we may survive. I hope it is not this way.”
She looked away and her eyes were filled with the vision of an exploding zeppelin and bodies tumbling in a clear blue sky.
“Our world is dying,” said the Teacher. “We cannot ignore it. A world dies when its continuity with the past is lost. One of our functions here at the Museum is to provide hope. And to try to find answers to questions we do not understand. In the domes we preserve knowledge, and it is for you and I to impart this knowledge to our small community in this shrinking city. We tell stories that preserve the laws of History, of Nature and of Science. But I will not lie to you Jay. All our work to preserve this knowledge may ultimately fail.”
She gestured at the city below. “More than a million people once lived there. Now there are barely thirty thousand. Most of the buildings you can see are empty. The tragedy of our world is that we die so very young. For all the work of our re-population programs, still our population dwindles. I don’t know whether we are experiencing the Passage of our world, or whether our world is dying a spiritless death, before its time.”
She dabbed her lips with a napkin, folded it on her plate and faced him.
“Do not waste your food,” she said, pointing at his plate. “There is nothing worse than a meaningless and wasteful death.”
The Nature Dome was divided into three distinct eco-zones – a temperate zone, a desert zone and a polar zone. They stood just inside the entrance on the crest of a grassy hillside that sloped down towards the centre of the dome. Water sprang from a rocky outcrop built into the wall beside the entrance. It pooled and fed a babbling brook that flowed downhill into a grove of trees. Temperate trees blended into evergreens, ferns and vines of a tropical rainforest. Rain fell upon the trees, fed by sprinklers set high in the ceiling.
He breathed deeply the scents of pollen, flowers, sap and juices.
“The dome is moisture sealed,” said the Teacher. “No moisture escapes.”
The temperate zone in which they stood occupied a third of the gallery. To his left the lush hillside bled into dry spinifex of perimeter desert. This in turn became sandy desert, broken by the occasional cactus and boab tree. Date palms and banana trees lined the transition between desert and tropical forest.
Opposite, the grassy hillside sank into marshy swamp. Tussocks of grass and reeds formed green islands in the marsh. Waterlogged land became tundra, and further on was replaced by the polar zone, blanketed in snow. Snow fell like a soft, white mist from the sprinkler system. A tall ridge of stone formed the boundary between desert and polar zones, snow on one side, heat blasted stone on the other. The mountain range reached close to the ceiling five hundred feet above.
Animals populated the zones, the culmination of the Taxidermist’s toil and the work of those who had come before him. They were stuffed and inanimate, yet they offered a suggestion of the natural world before Loss and Decline. Herbivores caught in suspended animation grazed on the grassy hillside. Predators crouched in the grass, eternally waiting to attack – lions, leopards, hyena, bear and wolves. Frogs clung to reeds on the edge of the pool. Further on, monkeys and bats shared the forest canopy with a menagerie of bird life. Snakes and lizards left patterns in the desert sand. Polar bears and Arctic foxes wandered across the icy wastes of the polar zone. Mountain goats clung to the rocks.
Jay gazed in awe at this recreation of a lost world.
“All these animals were lost in the mass extinction,” said the Teacher. “Many were swept away in the Quark Wars. After the wars the ecosystems of the world collapsed and most surviving species died. Today we have perhaps one percent of the planet’s biodiversity before Loss and Decline. Of course, the ecosystems shown here are not realistic.”
A small number of visitors explored the gallery. Jay wandered across the grass to the nearest specimen, a brown bear crouching over the stream. He touched the creature’s coat, expecting, despite the Taxidermist’s explanation, something lifeless and hard. The coat was warm, soft. It had the tension of living muscle. Jay looked in the bear’s eyes. They glistened with moisture.
“They look so real,” he said.
“The Taxidermist is very talented,” affirmed the Teacher. “Each specimen has an internal moisture pump and heating battery. The effect is realistic. There is more,” she continued. “Follow me.”
They descended the hillside, their ivory robes brushing the grass. Visitors bowed as they passed.
The Teacher led him to the forest. Jay placed his hands on the trunk of a tall eucalypt.
“It’s alive,” he said with surprise. “I thought the trees would be fake also.”
“The forest is a real forest. All the plants in the Nature Dome are alive. Some things were preserved.”
“But if plants could be preserved, why not animals?”
“The DNA of animals is complex. Molecular biologists tried. You know the story of Jasmin Jared. You mentioned her in the interview.”
“Aberration?” asked Jay.
“Yes,” said the Teacher. “’One shall not create unnatural life,’” she quoted. “There are good reasons not to break the Law. We can see the evils wrought on Nature just by stepping outside the Museum.”
They wandered through the Nature Dome, exploring first the desert region and then the polar region. Jay was astonished to feel snow on his face. After an hour they returned to the temperate zone and walked up the hillside towards the exit. A voice cried out.
“It’s alive! It’s alive!”
A boy on the other side of the stream was pointing at a tiger, readying to spring at a herd of zebra.
“Daddy, it’s alive!” cried the boy. “The tiger blinked its eyes.”
“No Satya,” calmed the boy’s father. “It is dead. All the animals are dead. They died a long time ago.”
“No, it’s not,” insisted the boy. “I saw it. It blinked and growled.”
The father lifted the boy in his arms and carried him up the hillside towards the exit. Jay and the Teacher watched them leave, both slipping amongst their own thoughts.
As they approached the Science Dome the voice of the little boy stuck in his mind. “It’s alive! It’s alive!” He felt he was missing something. He glanced at the Teacher and he could not help but think that she was keeping something from him.
Darkness engulfed them as they entered the Science Dome. Their footsteps echoed. They had entered a vast space.
"This is the most recent gallery," said the Teacher.
A walkway suspended halfway up the curving wall of the dome was lined with small guide lights leading out into the gallery. A control panel glowed at the end of the platform.
“This gallery is a large hologram theatre,” said the Teacher. “Lasers set into the floor, walls and ceiling project a three dimensional image into the dome. Images can be chosen on this panel. They include the atomic molecule, the globe of the Earth as seen from space, a model of the solar system, a model of the galaxy, and finally a model of the known universe showing galaxy clusters. Here, let me show you.”
Sh
e pressed a button and light filled the dome, revealing the platform’s position far above the gallery floor. The globe of the Earth, hundreds of feet in diameter, hovered in space before them. The planet slowly rotated on its axis. The landmasses were red and brown swathes of earth, surrounded by wide blue oceans.
“While it is the newest gallery, it is the least popular with visitors,” said the Teacher. “These views, I think, frighten them. But it is an invaluable gallery for Science. Shall we get closer?”
They stepped into a hover car floating beside the platform. The Teacher operated its controls and the car levitated away from the walkway on its static field. She directed the car over the North Pole and down the opposite side. Jay stared with fascination at the planet. He saw mountain ranges, valleys, dry river courses, and wide sweeping plains. A dry, desert planet.
“I’ll show you another hologram,” said the Teacher. The earth was replaced by a hologram of the galaxy. Suddenly the dome was filled with a billion points of light. Stars floated before Jay’s face. He tried to pluck one with his hands but it passed through his fingers like air.
“Do you think there is life beyond our planet?” he asked.
“With so many planetary systems, I think it likely the universe was once rich with the possibility of life.” The Teacher sighed deeply. “For that life now, I have grave fears.”
“What do you mean?” asked Jay.
Ignoring his question, the Teacher directed the car towards the galaxy centre.
At the galaxy’s core hovered a mighty black hole. An invisible mouth twisted slowly, consuming stars that ventured too close. It sucked at the fiery plasma of each star. Red and yellow liquid fire stripped away and funneled down into blackness.
“Scion,” said the Teacher. “The relationship between scion and master hinges on truth. I shared everything I know with my previous scion, as I will do with you. I ask that you are always honest with me. Without honesty we are lost.”
“I agree,” said Jay. “I will be honest with you.”
She nodded. “Well then, I have a story to tell you. Its beginning and end lie here in the Science Dome. But for the sorrow in my heart, this telling is difficult to do.”
She looked into the centre of the hologram and watched the plasma of stars strip away into the black hole. Red light danced across her face.
“The Quark Wars were a terrible time for our planet. There were ... far-reaching consequences. Let me ask you again,” said the Teacher. “What is Passage?”
This question surprised Jay. He felt he had answered it adequately during lunch. “Is this a test, Teacher?”
“No, scion. No test. It is the beginning of a revelation that will be grievous to hear.”
She waited for Jay’s answer.
“Passage is the flight of the Spirit as it leaves the body and finds the Spirit realm.”
She shook her head. “I am sorry, Jay. Despite what you have been taught, and what you believe, it is not so. Do you remember this morning when we visited the History Dome? We looked at the photograph of the scientists who discovered quark energy. Kafka Yellis and his team. Their work led to the development of quark weapons which in turn led to the global destruction of the Quark Wars. But there were other consequences of their research. Worse consequences.”
Worse than the near annihilation of the planet? thought Jay.
“When these scientists discovered quark energy, they broke the First Law of Science – ‘One shall not explore the subatomic’. Two thousand years ago they did not know it was the Law. But regardless, there was an Aberration. These scientists betrayed the law. This betrayal tore the ... how can I say it ... the texture of space, allowing an unnatural substance access to our universe.”
Jay turned to the centre of the galaxy. The black hole rotated slowly, fire from nearby stars feeding its insatiable appetite.
“What was it?” he asked.
“A substance called Dark Matter.”
“I do not know what that is.”
“Dark Matter is the opposite of matter as we know it. I am not a scientist so I cannot explain it to you as Jack Gaunt could. What I can say is that like all matter, Dark Matter needs energy to exist. Although it needs a different kind of energy than conventional matter does.”
“What kind of energy?”
“There was a time, long ago, when people lived for many years,” answered the Teacher obscurely. “Much longer than we live today. People lived into what was called ‘old age’. A few lived for more than a hundred years. The body wore out as people became old. But this physical deterioration was balanced by a growth of wisdom, developed over years of experience. This was natural law. Not just for people, but for all living things, mammals, birds, insects, plants – all living things.
“No longer! Our lives have been shortened because of Dark Matter. The energy that feeds Dark Matter ... is a substance called Spirit.”
“Spirit?”
“Yes. The Spirit that exists within all living things.”
Jay gazed at the Teacher with incomprehension. “I do not understand what you are saying. We feed Dark Matter?”
“Yes.”
“What does that mean?”
“Passage as you know it is an Aberration,” explained the Teacher.
“Passage is our route to the Spirit realm,” argued Jay.
“No! Passage is the stripping from life of its Spirit so that the Spirit can feed Dark Matter.”
“We go to the ocean of souls,” he insisted.
“I’m sorry. That is what you have been taught. That is what our society believes. But it is not the truth. Dark Matter is the truth. Dark Matter hungers for us, as it hungers for all living things. It wants us. It is always calling for us. And it takes us, when the Spirit can no longer resist. When we are of an age less than a third of the span of a natural life.”
“I don’t understand,” said Jay.
“Everything you know of life and death is incorrect,” said the Teacher. She sighed. “This began two thousand years ago, and it is the true cause of the Loss and Decline of our world. Life is a victim of the Aberration unleashed by the evil act of Kafka Yellis and his team. Most insects died in one generation – it took a matter of weeks. When the insects died so did the plants that depended on them for pollination. Food crops across the world failed. Famine and mass starvation followed. Our world as it is today, a dead world, is the result of Dark Matter.”
The Teacher pressed a button on the control panel and the galaxy before them dissolved away and was replaced once again by the slowly spinning Earth.
“This world should be a beautiful place,” she said sadly. “Our Spirits should ride the great wind to the Spirit realm. But it is not the way.”
Jay shook his head. “I have seen Passage at work in Nature,” he said stubbornly. “The jelly fish that come in schools into the shallows below Ocean-Hearth. You see them dissolve into light as their Spirits leave the body, as they pass to ...”
The Teacher looked at him sympathetically. It was much to understand immediately.
“No,” she said gently.
“But then,” stammered Jay, “if not to the ocean of souls, where do we go when we come to the end? Where do all things go?”
His eyes searched the Teacher for answers but she looked away. In this she failed, for as never before in his life he needed support now.
“Not to nothing,” he said, horrified. “Teacher, is this a test? Are you testing my resolve?”
She moved towards him but he stepped away.
It was probably not the best place to tell him, she thought.
She flew the hover car back to the walkway. Once docked, Jay jumped to the walkway and fled the Science Dome.
The Teacher stood alone on the walkway for a long time, looking after him.
The violent light of sunset drew up and curled over the western horizon. He stumbled along the beach towards Ocean-Hearth. Waves crashed with rolling certainty on the shore, washing against his legs
, pulling his body towards the water. In the drag of water and the grit of sand beneath his feet, he knew the Teacher spoke the truth.
The world was not what it should be.
Ocean-Hearth rose above him. It was late and thankfully the children would be asleep - he could not have faced them. He approached the front doors. Rhada was waiting on the landing.
She believes that Passage leads to eternal life, he thought.
He could not tell her. It was too cruel.
“It’s late,” she said as he arrived. “How was your first day?”
His lips tasted like ashes.
“What’s wrong? What has happened?” she asked.
He could not reply. He faced her, his mouth open, but no words would come.
“What is it? Jay?”
She hugged him. She was only fourteen, but she was the Teacher of Ocean-Hearth. She had comforted many distressed children in her arms.
She held Jay closely, helped support him as he sat on the landing.
“It will be alright,” she whispered.
She held him well into the night. Waves crashed against the rocks below Ocean-Hearth. Stars twinkled in the dark sky, far away in time. Dark Matter filled the space between the stars. Dark Matter, brooding and hungry. It tugged relentlessly on their precarious souls.
Chapter 4 NATURE DOME
The First Law of Science had been broken, its effect on the natural world catastrophic.
The zeppelin port was located where a river had once flowed. The dry river bed was the landing field. The terminal building perched on the northern bank. Jay and Rhada sat together on the opposite bank, waiting for the weekly zeppelin to arrive from Sydon. A rocky outcrop shielded them from the sun.
Jay tried to picture the river as it once was. Lush meadows had run to the water’s edge. The air had teemed with insect life, dragonflies, bees, butterflies, wasps, their buzzing a constant hum. Birds had slid across the blue sky.
Now, there were no birds, no water, no buzzing of life. Only dust and the relentless sun. And a secret Jay could not begin to understand.
“Won’t you tell me what you know?” asked Rhada.
