Man After Man: An Anthropology of the Future

by Dougal Dixon

  The attackers halt in their assault; their intended victims seem more determined than they anticipated. The attackers back away slowly, keeping up their aggressive noises and trying not to appear vulnerable, then regroup some distance away. The berries of the thicket are lost to them.

  They turn their attention to the hyenas feeding down by the lake and, as a group, charge them. The hyenas are startled by this sudden assault and in a panic they abandon their kill. The attackers gather around the corpse, some of them tearing at the meat while others stand guard, waving sticks and snarling at the cheated hyenas.

  These creatures can eat meat as well as plants, and can combine forces in order to procure it. Their larger relatives in the thicket continue munching their berries – meat-eating and co-operative hunting is not for them.

  1.5 MILLION YEARS AGO

  Homo habilis – the tool-maker.

  It seems the same place, for the landscape has changed very little; though the climate is now much cooler. Large chimpanzee-like creatures still forage for berries amongst the bushes, These creatures, however, are larger than the earlier berry-eaters, and have very heavy jawbones. Later, anthropologists gave them various names such as Zinjanthropus, Nutcracker Man, before deciding that they were members of the earlier A. robustus.

  Not far away several very much smaller ape-like beasts, evolved from the earlier A. africanus, carry a dead antelope between them. That is not all they carry: they have stones that haye been chipped into edges, points and blades, for these creatures are tool-makers, and as such they have a culture, later referred to as the Palaeolithic, or old stone age. Their scientific name reflects this tool-making skill: it is Homo Habilis, meaning ‘handy man’.

  The two groups pass very close to one another, but totally ignore each other’s presence. Now they have evolved in such diverse directions, they no longer compete for the same food.

  500,000 YEARS AGO

  Homo erectus – the fire-maker.

  She is a member of the first group of humanoid creatures to move out of Africa and spread across Europe and Asia. She crouches in a cave entrance in what will be known as China; but far away, in places that will be called Spain, Java and Tanzania, there are beings just like her.

  If she stood up she would be seen to be very similar to a twentieth-century human, but with a heavier jaw, protruding eyebrows and a flat forehead. Her upright stance gives her species the name Homo erectus.

  As she watches the hunters drag home the slain bison, while other females carry back their handfuls of hackberries and pine kernels, her thoughts are only on the food that they bring, and how this food is to be prepared.

  Co-operation with others and skills learned from her parents provide her with food. With a stick, she stirs the powdery whiteness in the fire pit before her, uncovering the deep red glow. She adds dry twigs to bring the glowing embers to life. She cannot remember when or how the fire started but hers is the responsibility for keeping it going. It is a heavy responsibility, too, since fire makes the meat tender enough to eat easily, its smoke preserves what meat they do not eat immediately, and its frightening light keeps away the fierce night animals.

  She knows that it is her responsibility because the group of 23 who occupy the cave have ‘talked’ it over – not in words but in significant sounds that mean something to those in the group – a long stride on the road to civilization.

  15,000 YEARS AGO

  Homo sapiens neanderthalensis – our less successful cousin.

  A horse develops before him. Red soil from one part of his stone dish has been applied with a pad of moss to the cave wall to block in the basic shape. Now he takes soot and smears it along the figure’s back, pointing up its ears. The same black pigment goes into making the legs and the hooves.

  In the confined space, and by the flickering light of his flame, it is difficult for him to stand back and appreciate his work. He knows, however, that he has done it to the best of his ability, and this gives him a deep satisfaction.

  Squeezing through the narrow limestone passage towards the cave mouth he passes other paintings. Bulls, reindeer, bison and rhinoceros have been depicted there since long before his time.

  He blows out his flame and stands, dazzled, on a limestone shelf looking down the hill at the wooded gorge below. Smoke rising against a far cliff shows where his people live, sheltered against the coming winter blast beneath the overhang.

  He belongs to the species Homo sapiens, subspecies sapiens, and there are probably no more than 10,000 like him in the area that will one day be known as central France. Further to the north, on the tundra plains of Germany, his cousins Homo sapiens neanderthaliensis are now extinct, either wiped out in the latest surge of the ice age, or else so interbred with the more successful Homo sapiens sapiens that their characteristics have disappeared in their offspring. It is Homo sapiens sapiens, or Cro-Magnon man, with his artistry and his advanced Palaeolithic culture, who will be the ancestor of mankind to come.

  5000 YEARS AGO

  The river valley has always produced the best plants and, since most food comes from one plant or another, the river valleys of northern Europe are well settled. With the knowledge that plants grow from seed, the people of the settlement have gathered seed and planted it in the fertile valley soil. When the plants are ripe they are cut down with stonebladed sickles, and the seeds ground down to flour by rolling them between coarse stones.

  What can be done for plants can also be done for animals. On the cold plains to the north people still follow migrating herds of reindeer, so that meat is always available; but the settlers can do better than this. Their animals – their cattle, sheep, goats and pigs – are kept penned near the settlement so that meat, wool and milk are constantly accessible.

  As a result, for the first time in history substantial houses can be built, on frames of tree trunks, hewn by the stone implements, walled by dried clay and sticks. Straw, left over from the grain harvest, goes into making the roof. Now there is also time and opportunity for pottery and horn ornaments to be crafted.

  It is the era known as Neolithic, or new stone age. The cultivation of plants and the domestication of animals have both heralded this new culture. It will not be long now before the settlers, with their more stable lifestyle and the time to apply their minds to abstract problems, learn to smelt and use metals – first bronze and then iron – and this knowledge will spread throughout most of the populated world.

  2000 YEARS AGO

  Lucius Septimus chews his twice-cooked bread at the entrance of his hide tent, having cleaned his iron weaponry and his armour. Out there, in the rain, the grey choppy sea that beats against the northern limit of Gaul is an uninviting sight. The wild Britons of the lands to the north have been a thorough nuisance, giving constant aid to rebellious Gauls and holding up the establishment of Roman civilization in these northern lands.

  Also, it is said that there is great mineral wealth to be had there. Stories abound of wealthy metal merchants making their fortunes by plying these dangerous waters.

  Certainly the military victory achieved there by the late Julius Caesar was small; but the talk is that other invasions are planned. He certainly hopes not. He would rather be serving in newly-annexed Aegyptus at the other end of the empire.

  Only the generals and the officers in the big tent at the end of the row know what the long-term plans of the new emperor Augustus are. Lucius merely goes where he is told, and fights where he is told. He feels lucky to be a part of the great nation of Rome: a nation that controls practically the whole world and will do so for ever.

  1000 YEARS AGO

  Empire after empire developed around the Mediterranean sea and spread across Europe, Africa and Asia, clashing with the other empires found there. Then they collapsed; and usually the culture and technology generated with each empire collapsed with it.

  Eyjolf Asvaldsson understands little of this. He is about to sail home, guided by the stone that seeks the north star. He doe
s realize, however, that places visited by long ships during the summer raids seem to have different histories, and display different ruins.

  Almost everywhere in the world shaven men teach the Christian faith and vehemently denounce the sacred names of Thor and Odin; and everywhere the people are adopting this faith – even some of Eyjolf’s own people. In this country, the Arab Kingdom of Spain, is a mixture of religions. Dark-skinned peoples who scorn the Christian religion have been settling here for a long time, alongside Christian people. They worship God in domed buildings, surrounded by spindly towers. What’s more, they are gardeners and poets, and have a technical knowledge that is lacking elsewhere.

  Eyjolf’s abiding memory of the last raid is of a tower with sails. Ships, like his own, use the wind; they catch it in their sails and it drives them along. These people, however, use the wind to turn wheels and grind grain.

  500 YEARS AGO

  It is 69 days since they set out from Palos, and all that time they have been sailing westwards, except for a brief stop for provisioning in the Canary Islands. Now they have arrived, in India.

  Pablo Diego chides himself for mistrusting the captain. There was no way of telling whether or not the voyage was foolhardy. They just kept sailing westwards – totally the wrong direction for India – to the edge of the world, possibly to be enmired by sticky seaweed or eaten by sea monsters. They could tell how far north or south they were, by measuring the angles of the stars, but there was no way of telling how far west they had sailed. Several times he and the crew were on the verge of mutiny.

  They were wrong, however, and now here they are, safe beneath the palm trees on the warm beach, while offshore the three proud ships lie resting at anchor. It is the Indians that puzzle Pablo. Evidently this is not the mainland of Asia, but one of the outlying islands, possibly the Japans.

  But where are the fabulous treasures, the gold and jewels that have been promised? Friendly or not, the gifts that the Indians bring are rubbish – beads and strangely-coloured birds. Nevertheless, they do have gold rings in their noses; so there is wealth somewhere.

  If there is, why are the Indians not using it? They seem to have nothing, living in grass huts and growing strange plants for food. That does not worry Pablo. The captain has said that after a brief rest they will sail around more of these islands. He can be sure that further to the west is the main continent – a civilized continent of civilized people who know what to do with their wealth.

  100 YEARS AGO

  The train rattles out from between the narrow paper houses, sending up thick clouds of black smoke that settles as soot on the ornate carvings of the eaves, then coughs its way along the low embankment between the flooded fields of rice towards the distant cotton mills. If there is anything that emphasizes the changes that have come to Renzo Nariaki’s beloved Nippon it is this. He is an old man now and he can still remember his place in the feudal society of the Tokugawa Shogunate before it was overthrown.

  Then, with the civil war and the emplacement of the emperor Meiji, the barbarians who had long been attempting to gain a foothold finally flooded in. They arrived at the request of the new emperor, and changed everything.

  They were altering all aspects of society. At least he still had an emperor, but the government was now like that of a place called France. They still had a navy, but run along the lines of the British navy. Their industry was being reorganized into the American style; while the army was no longer the army of the Samurai – it was now like the army of Germany.

  The train has disappeared into the dark mills now, ready to pick up a heavy load. The traditional road transport could never have handled the volume of goods now being produced. It is probably like this all over the world, thinks Nariaki. The foreigners are imposing their way of life everywhere.

  Or perhaps we are absorbing the foreigners’ way of life?

  Time will tell.

  PART TWO: MAN AFTER MAN

  200 YEARS HENCE

  * * *

  200 YEARS HENCE

  THE AQUAMORPH

  Homo aquaticus

  Fish-like and frog-like, the aquamorph is genetically adapted to live within a totally marine environment. Each physical feature – the streamlined body with the smooth skin and the insulating blubber layer, the gills on the chest, the paddles on the legs – was grown by the embryo. But this embryo was the result of manipulation of the sperm and egg cells. The chromosomal make-up was adjusted, creating genes that would produce features such as skin with a low drag fractor, and the whole organism was allowed to grow to its designed form.

  Sliding easily towards the surface, the powerful aquamorph prepares to face brief contact with the hostile environment of its genetic ancestors. It does not envy the clumsy land-dwellers their damaged habitat.

  The skull is shaped and positioned so that a rounded head and short neck add to the streamlining.

  The lower leg of Homo aquaticus forms a powerful, well-muscled paddle, spread by the toes.

  Facial expression for the aquamorph is limited to basic responses. It relies on simple sounds to communicate.

  * * *

  PICCARBLICK THE AQUAMORPH

  The grey-green of deep water is floored by a bed of rubble, sprouting wisps of red algae and sparse fan coral. Rusting steel hulks, caked with sponge and algal growth, jut up in incomprehensible shapes in the gloom. A few fish move slowly in the dark hollows, as the occasional scuffling crab raises brief clouds of sand and silt particles with its pointed feet.

  Suddenly these few creatures dart for cover, as a much larger shape bounds its way slowly over the bottom. It is streamlined, as are all swimming animals, and its surface is smooth and rounded, all angles padded out by a thick layer of insulating blubber. The legs are somewhat frog-like, with webbed feet, but the webs continue up each side of the leg as far as the knee. The forelimbs are prehensile and adaptable, but for the moment are held tightly against the torso so as not to disrupt the streamlined shape. The creature gives off an air of deep sadness, but only because of the face, with its big dark eyes and an enormous lugubrious downturned mouth. The mouth funnels into a broad throat that connects to a wide belt of gills across the chest.

  It ceases its movement and crouches on the bottom, looking upwards through water above it. Up there is a whole new world, a world that should not be strange since it is the world of the creature’s immediate ancestors.

  Its great-grandfather was a librarian, Jon Artur Blick, looking after and cataloguing the accumulated knowledge of centuries of human civilization. Its grandfather, Jon Blick Jr, was an artist, contributing to that civilization’s culture. Its father, Jon Blick III, was an astro-physicist, adding to the information mankind could draw upon. Now Piccarblick is an aquamorph – a creature engineered to be part of a new frontier. This creature is human.

  Piccarblick rises slowly towards the undulating silver ceiling that separates home from the hostile environment above. He rarely comes to the surface since he is not directly involved in trading with the land people. When ever he does he is always uneasy, even though it was the environment of his parents. A flurry of bubbles arises about him as he ascends towards the surface. Controlling his ascent so that the pressure on his tissues is not released too quickly, he bubbles up through the final few metres and breaks the oily, scum-laden surface.

  Many of his family are already there. He can just make out their heads bobbing around him amid the floating rubbish. The sky, grey-white with an orange tinge of smog along the horizon, has an alien beauty about it – like the sparkling surface of the unpolluted Earth as seen by the first astronauts.

  He looks towards land, but it is indistinct. His eyes will not function properly, because the difference between the refractive index of air and water is such that he cannot focus on anything above the surface. From his utility belt he takes air goggles and slips them over his head.

  Now he can see clearly. The strip of rubble beach is backed by towering brown and black buildings of the
land people. Down coast the buildings protrude from the sea, built on top of those already submerged, using the drowned hulks as their foundations and piles. The city he sees will not last for long, as the sea levels are continuing to rise and this area will also have to be abandoned.

  Not, however, until the establishment has served its purpose. On the flat runway lies a narrow pointed cylinder, too distant for the details to be seen, but Piccarblick knows it from descriptions. Beneath the small wings at the rear lie the huge oxygen-compressing rocket engines that will heave the craft off the ground, through the successively thinner layers of atmosphere and eventually into orbit. There it will rendezvous with the starship, transfer its passengers and return to the runway.

  The starship itself is complete and almost ready to go. All his life Piccarblick has been involved in its building. He and his family worked the great underwater deuterium mills that produced the fuel to power it, and farmed the continental shelf to sustain the land-dwellers and space-dwellers while they constructed it. Before long, fully manned and equipped, it will move out of Earth orbit, build up speed through the solar system and leave the regions of known space forever. Its departure will mark the end of the work of Piccarblick’s life. He and his fellow aquamorphs have toiled away, knowing that mankind’s future may not lie on this dirty planet or in its polluted waters, but elsewhere in the cosmos.

  Warning klaxons sound across the water. A flight of scavenging birds takes to the air from the beach as smoke bursts from the tail of the distant craft. After a seeming age the rumbling roar sweeps over the floating observers and slowly the vessel increases its speed along the runway and lifts itself into the air. Out over the sea towards the watchers it flies, rising as it goes. The sound builds up and, as the elongated shape hurtles overhead, the impact of the noise disorientates sensory organs more used to picking up water-borne signals. Then the ship is gone, leaving a lingering trail of smoke that slowly dissipates and adds its particles to the weight of atmospheric pollutants that have been building up for the past few centuries.