From Whence They Came

by Thomas Zman

  An organized system was used in de-fabricating and carting off pieces of the aircraft, simply to be set-aside in another part of the facility; teams of workers kept a constant flow of productivity from the plane to those who categorized, stored, and recorded each individual piece. The efficientness of it all dizzied my mind at the same time as having upset it.

  “Jesus, if that ain’t a sight,” Frank commented in a grave tone. His face hardened with gloom.

  I looked at him in an agreeing manor. Both Phoebians were silent.

  Brad, having picked up on this air of depression started to talk of himself, then shifted the conversation to include Frank and myself. The young, fair-skinned guide, who showed traces of freckles from younger years, asked Frank about the Air Force. Frank began reluctantly, but soon talked with ease of his days in flight school and his instructors to whom he was grateful for their mentoring.

  During our tour about the floor we stopped and talked with several of the workers. They were more than happy to leave their tasks and bid us welcome in the most considerate of manors. Of the scores of people we met, Brad seemed to know each of them intimately, and not one had overlapping characteristics of another– a trait rarely observed on the surface. Strange how each person’s face and personality was retained within me, something that I had never before experienced. My mind was beginning to broaden.

  Suddenly buzzers were sounding and I noticed an immediate change in the workers’ activities; all disassembling ceased and many were heading for the various staircases and lifts around the dome. A wave of activity seized upon the Solar Port. All computer consoles were activated – manned not just by humans either – and a hum of electricity erupted from the arena as its lights began to brighten, totally illuminating the tunnel.

  “Come quickly, we must leave,” Piabin warned us. “A ship is about to land and your bodies are not yet ready for the rapid change in atmosphere to compensate the two converging worlds.” We all hurried towards a stairway and we made our way up.

  My heart pounded frantically upon reaching the elevated walkway, Frank was right behind me huffing and puffing. We looked back down to see Piabin and Alypsa behind us. We yelled, “So Long” to Brad who remained in the cart. He watched for a second to see that the Phoebians made it up to the top all right, then sped away towards the now-glowing Solar Port.

  The four of us passed into a long concourse just off the walkway, the door sealing tightly behind us with a hermetic hiss. It was crowded, as others from the Port had filed in, though they dispersed quickly along its expanse to various elevators or mobile walkways. The wide area was again stark of any decorations, sculptures, and pictures, anything to entertain the eye, save for at the far end of the concourse I noticed a line of oblong windows. We walked towards the windows to find them revealing a ground level perspective of the city.

  “Awesome!” Frank commented, looking around then turning his attention out the windows. “To think this whole city is beneath the ocean floor. And this only one of twelve! Awesome technology.”

  The two Phoebians stood close, staring out the windows; my mind picking up faint mumbles, blurbs, and screeches of their conversing. Two benches slid out from the wall and Frank and I were seated. I was just about to comment that my legs were feeling a little weak.

  “Were you told of the city’s history,” Frank asked.

  “I’m thinking it must be a standard ‘indoctrination speech’ to all who come here,” I said. “Nayrb, the alien in my cell, was very interesting. He spoke highly of the city, as I’m sure they all do. I’m sure we’ll be running into him some time in the future.”

  The two Phoebians were finished conversing and looked towards us. I had regained some of my strength and was eager to carry on with the tour. Frank, though he was interested in the city, was slow in raising himself from the bench; the aliens prodded him along with a ‘mental preview’.

  We walked a short distance along the windows to what must have been an air lock and entered into it. The transparent doors closed behind us. Quickly the pressure rose and the room warmed uncomfortably until another set of doors, opposite the ones we had entered, whooshed opened. We exited the building onto a plaza of polished bedrock. The air was hot and dry. It stung my nose and initially brought my eyes to watering. At first we all just stood to the side as we adjusted to the pungent atmosphere, the aliens assuring us this initial discomfort would soon pass. So we stood and waited, looking up and about at the alien architecture; tall edifices shining and gray brilliantly silhouetted against the lightning-strewn emerald skies.

  After a brief time I noted two figures, human, had joined our group and were conversing with the aliens. The first was tall and lean with neatly trimmed red hair. The second was shorter and had a swept styling to his longer, flaxen hair. The first was no older than twenty-one years, the second thirtyish; each greeted us with a smile.

  “Hello there,” said the tall redhead. “My name is Kris and this is my friend, Dan. The Sanctifying Council has assigned us as your guides. Alypsa will also remain present to answer any questions the two of you may have that Dan or I cannot.” Dan was quiet and simply nodded.

  Frank began a lengthy conversation with the two newcomers. As for me, I was more interested in the Complex from which we had just exited. And so, turning around to study it (uncaring as to this being an uncouth gesture) I noticed a series of exterior elevators that traveled the height of the edifice, straight up and connecting to the cavern’s scarcely discernable ceiling. Their exteriors were opaque; though I could just imagine the interior walls as to being clear. From our whereabouts on the ground I couldn’t perceive the curve of the Transmutaion Complex: it seemed to run straight in both directions for quite a great distance.

  We stood amidst the plaza, a band of polished sidewalk that circumscribed the building, wherefrom various byways stretched out in different directions, all faintly illuminated either orange or blue. In fact the sum total of all the low-level lighting and reflective properties of the buildings making up the city, offered a near daytime appearance in what surely must have been a pitch-black cavern. I proceeded several paces and stepped off onto the raw blackish-red bedrock that was everywhere there wasn’t the polished walkways or some strange architecture. From this coarse jagged terrain there jutted crystalline formations; magnificent protruding clusters several feet in height that too emitted their own phosphorescence, providing a type of ‘shrubbery’ amidst the vast subterranean landscape. I tried to give myself a better perspective of the Transmutation complex. But this showed me nothing I hadn’t already observed and so, being dissatisfied with my scrutiny I temporarily returned my attention to our little group.

  I noticed Piabin had left and was nowhere to be seen. Upon questioning his leaving I found that he’d pressing business elsewhere. How odd, I thought. In any event, I glanced off into the distance, into the obscured walkways that glowed ominously through the green mist. People bustling along these byways -- blue or orange, depending upon direction -- were strangely lineated by the lighting, and stood out prominently amidst the haze. Aylipsa informed our group that we should set out, and so the five of us became as those who way fared the walkways.

  Much to my surprise we glided along the translucent strips by some unseen mechanics. There were no belts that carried us, just a tingling glow emitted at our feet. All one had to do to change direction was turn in the desired way, the strange emitance did the rest. The walks stretched off into the distance, branching off at various intersections and thoroughfares. We skimmed, or perhaps I should say ‘floated’, along the walkways passing other walkways named appropriately for their inner-city significance. The one we traveled was simply ‘Mainway’. Along these mobile walks were found small markets, shops of various trades where residents bided their time on either side of the counter. Since there existed no monetary system in the city -- I was aptly informed -- people bartered labor or other small items for chosen conveniences. Though I might add that many ‘expensive’ i
tems were given as accommodations along with living quarters and there remained only the ‘small things’ in life to purchase.

  Buildings towered on both sides of us. Most were tall and thin, few others not so. One characteristic of these structures, however, stood out most prominent; it was their shape, circular -- evidently inspired by the basic Phoebian architectural design. Frank appeared more interested in conversing with the two humans than in the great metropolis. He spoke relentlessly about his life experiences and barely gave either a chance utterance. Kris, however, apparently the more eager of the two, was soon wizened and when the opportunity presented itself – that is when Frank paused to catch his breath and/or compose another of his autobiographical adventures – would bring our attention to various sights that would have been overlooked if not for his subtle diplomacy. Kris knew the city well and was honored to point out specific buildings of importance, intriguing configurations of surface artifacts, or even a simple boutique where, I was told, artisans altered the standard issue white garments into fashions of more earthly appeal.

  Kris’ commentaries were well received yet all too sparingly elaborated upon during those moments of Frank’s personal refrains. Dan, if he spoke at all, would add his concise agreement on any matter presented. His understanding and insights were relayed not only through solemn words, but also by way of his reserved mannerisms.

  “Where are we headed?” I asked at an opportune moment.

  “No place in particular, just a sort of roundabout tour of he city,” Kris replied.

  “Why don’t we first show them the Power Dome,” Dan offered.

  “Excellent suggestion,” Aylipsa began, “ I’m sure the Captain and Lieutenant would be most interested in our city’s power supply.”

  We passed a tall support column embedded in the bedrock off to the side of the walk. It was composed of plated steel, polished, and decoratively etched at its wide base, wherefrom it tapered slightly as it rose well over a thousand feet through the obscuring clouds to the ceiling. We passed beneath a series of tubular walkways and I noticed a pyramidic building situated atop a tri-legged archway –- one of the few non-circular edifices I’d seen. It too rose into the mists above and the intermittent flashes of blue lightning that spewed there, all so different than anything I had ever before experienced. Everywhere I looked there was something to cast my mind into unfathomable astonishment.

  I couldn’t concentrate on any one thought for very long as one idea led to another and another and soon the basic concept had been forgotten, replaced by the fragmentation of others. There were so many tangents to my thoughts that they entangled my senses to the point of near dizziness. Everything seemed to be rushing at me (sensory overload) and to discern the inflow was impossible -- so I thought. The floodgates to my mind were opened. I wanted to learn all there was about this place. I felt I could absorb it all, and yet none (sometimes a fleeting doubt would enter; a depressing memory of my family). Indeed there arose a euphoric feeling within me.

  The city was alive with bustling pedestrians and skittering saucer craft that whooshed overhead in their own lanes of traffic. Aylipsa was silent, though I’m sure his mind pondered every trifle of information that entered into it; Dan was murmuring something inaudible, and Kris listened to Frank’s telling of his latest girlfriend back home:

  “Yeah, she was a fine woman,” Frank was saying. “I thought I’d finally found the right girl, you know. Not marriage, of course. Just a good, healthy relationship. She was bright and energetic, but most of all, creative. She had her own way looking at things. Just when I find myself in a comfortable situation, bam, I get taken away . . . ” Frank paused to take in an art shop we were passing. He stood dazed for a moment while he studied a display of paintings in the window. Then moved on silently with the rest of us.

  Rising up into the mists beyond was another huge structure. Its curved glossy white walls had small vents that puffed forth vapor; the facility resembling a nuclear power plant.

  “We have arrived at our destination,” Aylipsa announced as he stepped to the front of our group. We came upon a wide plaza in front of the facility and exited the walkway. Our legs once again put to use. We walked across the polished ground works where lampposts and benches created a wide-open area for gatherings. People of countless nationalities were about in diplomatic exchange, many speaking through Phoebian interpreters. Aylipsa told us of them:

  “There is quite a cross section of culture in our city. It is true that many of our residents are from Northern and Central America, but there are also those who visit from our other cities around the globe. By this intermingling of cultures we hope to enlighten our residents as to their neighbors. Humans often speak cruelly of ethnologies they themselves have little knowledge of; stereotypes that prejudice the minds of the young long before they reach adulthood. It is this maliciousness of society we aim to alleviate. It is only a select few who can overcome this ‘conditioning’; gather facts on their own, interpret them, and deal with individuals simply on their own merits.”

  Aylipsa reminded me greatly of Nayrb; Phoebian philosophies had begun to alter my perceptions. As we paused before entering the Power Dome, Aylipsa directed our attention to the center of the metropolis and continued to speak: “The Power Dome lies at the western end of Neuphobes, at the end of the Main Way walk, in line with the Transmutation Complex, and on the other side, the Celestial Gardens and other cultural facilities.” He led us into the building through tall arched doors of some translucent compound. “The Dome is where our city receives all of its energy for running the myriad of complexes contained within its cavernous boundaries. This was the second building constructed after that of the Transmutaion Complex and though it is of secondary importance, without this facility all of Neuphobes would be in total darkness.”

  The brightly lit interior curved around a central room partitioned off by polished white ceramic walls. All the walls of this facility were ceramic. The floor as well as the ceiling was composed of hexagonal cells, both of which emitted light. Computer consoles situated against the inner most walls were each monitored by humans; aliens roamed about checking their proficiency. A vibrant hum sounded from behind the curved walling and my curiosity was aroused as to what could possibly lie within.

  Aylipsa took us around the facility’s outer control cordon briefly explaining the functions of the consoles. It was a wide circle we toured; yet not near the distance we covered around the Transmutation Complex. During our tour Kris and Dan stopped to speak with various operators, and never did they fail to properly introduce us. Kris fancied an oriental woman -- whom he later confessed to us -- that he hoped to be dating soon; though his repeated advances thus far had been kindly denied. Frank charmed all whom he met with his air for conversation, as I remained taciturn, picking up on events transpiring around me – especially Dan’s incessant mumblings.

  Having completed a circuit of the outer control room we were led through a bulkhead to the inner chamber. A series of catwalks ringed the large inner chasm; each about twenty feet from the one below and all connected by a steel latticework of dimly lighted stairwells. We stood atop the uppermost catwalk, clinging to the railing and peering down into the abysmal darkness. The only things visible from our position were thick pipes and surging conduits arising from the depths. On the ceiling were huge ventilation ducts that adjoined the vents on the exterior of the dome. All this was interconnected to a girdered derrick structure that apparently reinforced the entire domed facility. All appeared fantastically imaginative, for it was indeed the thermomagnamic heart of the city.

  Slowly our group moved along the catwalk until a stairwell was reached. Before we started down the stairwell, down through several levels of the structure, blue lighting suddenly illuminated our passage. The hum I’d experienced earlier intensified as we continued down, down into the strange swarthiness that powered Neuphobes. The Phoebian plumbing hissed, gurgled, and throbbed as surges of energy flowed up through it. We pa
ssed immense reduction coils that hummed vibrantly and below them, a monitoring station of valve banks and circuit breakers. It was exceedingly hot in this chasm and became hotter with each step of our descent. I wondered just how much further and how much more heat we could all endure.

  When finally we reached the bottom a huge rivet-laden pump affixed with gauges and valves and over indescribable instrumentation was securely plated to the ground. I looked above us (from whence we came) at the complex framework that supported the ‘pump’ and catwalks: all lit blue with white clothed workers tending each level; they had apparently become accustomed to the infernal temperatures. The ground upon which we stood trembled; creating difficulty in my discerning what Aylipsa was telling us. I asked him to repeat and he obliged.

  “This is the induction unit for galvanic extraction,” he said, scratching the vestigial nub of an ear. “Or, as our people call it, ‘The Galvanic Tap’. It is directly linked to the mantle of the earth, drawing off highly energized particles from the super-heated magma. Once these particles are inducted into the unit they are metamorphosized into the production of energy for our city.

  “By having unlimited energy at our disposal there is no need for producing it artificially with toxic waste as a result. The earth’s mantle is infinitely safer as compared to the synthetic fusion that occurs in nuclear facilities where there are near calamitous malfunctions every year. Unlike that of the surface where coal and other fossil fuels supply energy, we have only one source, perhaps the best there is – besides the sun. Though it must be stated: with rising technologies the surface is now utilizing solar power to supplement its needs. This trend will continue and ultimately replace all the negative industries involved in energy production. One of the few good trends that can be said of the surface.”