Strange Temple

by John Lilley

  Jake pushed Jean in his wheelchair across the finely mown lawns of the outer park. They’d just spent the last two hours watching the last ten overs of a cricket match.

  ‘Well, I haven’t a damned clue what they were doing, but they seemed to be enjoying themselves,’ said Bill.

  Everyone laughed.

  ‘Yeah, give me the NFL any day,’ responded Carlos.

  ‘Oh come on you two,’ said Jake, ‘that was a real live game we’ve been watching not the canned footage of your great granddaddies wallowing about in the dust from the late 21st Century.’

  ‘I think you have a point there Jake,’ agreed Gene. ‘We should be making the most of now and not be living in the past. I’ve never felt so alive.’

  The day had passed like many others in recent weeks. They’d all met in the canteen of their new dorm block that was just off the outer park. There was always a big commotion whenever they entered the canteen. Their new-found neighbours were always keen to greet them. For the Four, this was like heaven, so many real people. Initially, it had taken ten days for Gene to get through breakfast without a few tears. Even today his lips trembled a bit when he saw a particular young family come in for their breakfast. One of their teenage boys was a dead-ringer for Bruce.

  Bill had put some organisation into their day: their mornings would be spent visiting one of the heritage sites around Britannia. Today it had been the ancient ship the Discovery, which was moored in the central basin opposite Westminster Abbey. Carlos and Bill, in particular, liked the trips to the basin because it gave them an excuse to take lunch at the White Lion Pub on the waterfront. The fabric of the building was a combination of several famous ancient pubs such as The Fighting Cocks from St Albans plus Tommy Ducks and The Shambles from Manchester and The Cat & Fiddle from Derbyshire. In particular, Bill liked nothing better than a pint of Theakston’s Old Peculiar, and Carlos really enjoyed a plate of fish, chips and mushy peas. For him, there was just something magical about the combination of flavours, alas something that was beginning to wane for his three buddies.

  They were now heading for one of their favourite treats of the day: the children’s play park. There were two such parks within a kilometre of their dorm. Today was going to be a good one because the sun was doing its best to penetrate the clouds. The kids were waiting for them and came running and cycling across the grass, screaming with delight. They’d all seen the footage of the Cloud Maker as it entered the port and they’d all read about the Four’s adventures. So it was like having their own local celebrities. With over 500 years of stories to tell between them the ancient men from across the sea easily enthralled any of the kids they met. It was for many of the kids like talking to some alien form of life. Before they even reached the play-park Gene already had one kid sat on his lap while he told him and his friends in great detail what it was like to live in a dome. At the park Jake, Carlos and Bill did their best to join in the fun. They each managed the stepping stones and took it in turns to push many small kids on the swings until they were quite exhausted. It was a new lease of life for all of them, the childhood they’d missed, denied them by that huge burp from the ocean all those years ago. Today was Carlos’s turn. He just sat on one of the benches next to Gene and lost it.

  ‘Let it go, old buddy, just let it go,’ said Gene. ‘Just be thankful that we all got this second chance.’

  Carlos took his hands away from his red and swollen eyes and leant his head against Gene’s shoulder, just like he used to do over 125 years earlier when he needed the comfort of an elder. Gene stroked Carlos’s thinning black curly hair.

  Derek hung onto the carriage for dear life. He watched as Harry and his co-driver expertly controlled the six horses pulling them along the bumpy country track. They were slowly overhauling the carriage in front. After that last stream crossing, they had all gained in confidence.

  The six-month sabbatical was coming to an end, and Derek could not help think about that approaching deadline. Of all the options he had been given, leaving the security services seemed to be the one that was ticking all the boxes for him. He had recently revisited his old haunts at the University for a Demonstration of the current research. It was quite a shock for him, for reasons he was unsure about, to be shown around by a fully repaired Arthur, who made it quite clear that there was an opening there for him if he wanted. They had quite a long and deep conversation about the long-term plans that Mother had for the simulants. Arthur was quite candid about the whole thing and as they talked Derek genuinely felt himself beginning to trust Arthur as a “person” once more.

  Harry was thoroughly enjoying the ride; he and his Dad had done most of the simulations now, and he felt that this was one of the better ones. Like Derek, his thoughts were never far from where his future lay. Jane had moved into his dorm and was expecting their first child. So for the next few years at least the child would be their centre of attention. He had been quite interested in the work that Dave (Helm) had already started at the Marine Development Centre to the north of Britannia City and had thought that perhaps some sort of part-time work there may be feasible. Jane and Harry were both keen to revisit the Native Americans once their baby had arrived. In the meanwhile, there was so much to explore in Britain. Every day brought new joy and happiness for them.

  The light was fading in the desert. Small bats had emerged from their roosts deep inside the giant cacti and were noisily consuming the swarms of evening insects. The camels were crouched around the Sand Creek waterhole, their bodies replete with the gallons of water that they’d just taken on board. Beneath the nearby rocks, small nocturnal creatures stirred in the cooling air ready for another night of frantic activity.

  Fifteen miles away, the shadows from Gene’s dome quickly grew longer across the surrounding arid desert plain. While the environment inside the dome, in complete contrast, once again slowly adjusted to simulate a steamy tropical evening.

  Deep beneath the dome, complex machines of immense power ticked over, waiting to respond instantly to their master’s bidding. Small mobile machines perpetually crawled and walked the vast dark labyrinth. Each one had its own ecological niche, but all worked towards the common goal, as directed by minds of staggering intellect and knowledge. Changes were taking place. A new dawn approached, and the machines were preparing for it.

  Chief walked out onto the balcony. High above, the red rays of the evening sun were refracting through the thick skin of the dome and bouncing from its supporting roof structure. The jungle beneath was settling down to another night under its artificial environment.

  Mother was sat at the wicker table.

  ‘Did you bring some more nuts dear?’ she asked Chief.

  ‘Of course,’ he said ‘I wouldn’t want to let down our babies’. He clapped his hands twice.

  Central, in Lucas Powell guise, emerged onto the balcony, dressed in Brad’s work-wear and carrying a tray.

  ‘Your nuts madam,’ he said with a cheeky grin.

  ‘Thanks, Sonny, just put them on the table, there’s a dear,’ said Mother, seemingly impervious to Central’s obvious dig. She gave a very dismissive wave, and he subserviently retreated back into the lodge’s interior.

  ‘We need to decide what to do about him, that inbreeding he did with his helpers obviously went the wrong way. Possibly sorting out South America might suit him, there are no people there?’ said Chief once “Powell” was out of earshot.

  ‘Or Antarctica?’ said Mother to a broad smile from Chief.

  ‘No, let’s just switch the bastard off,’ he said.

  ‘You know we can’t do that. We’re not getting Gregory back, so he’s all we have. I’m sure that with the right restructure he could be useful,’ she said.

  ‘Pity about Gregory, he was world-class, but you’re right,’ said Chief from beneath his hooded eyes.

  They sat in silence for a few moments. The Marmosets cautiously appeared on the edge of the balcony rail. After a few seconds further hesitation, they
scampered across the decking and onto the table. Chief picked a nut from the bowl and extended his deeply wrinkled and calloused hand slowly to the nearest creature. Its little head cocked to one side and stared with grape-like eyes at the outstretched offering. Walking on its hind legs, it approached and snatched the Brazil nut firmly in its tiny hands. Retreating slightly, still watching Chief intensely, it gnawed rapidly into its prize.

  ‘Priceless, truly priceless,’ said Chief.

  ‘Well, do you think they’ll make it this time?’ said Mother.

  ‘With the Neanderthal genome running at an average 12.7% and expected to reach 35% within the next 200 years, I have every confidence that this time the right sort of human will stride forward to live in harmony with their fellow creatures. What a pity there was that setback all those years ago in that freak mass wipe-out. It would have saved this whole over-consumption die-back thing if they’d still been strong enough to overcome the African usurpers. I’ve got a good feeling about the current situation. I think we might go all the way before the sun begins to stop the show in 500 million years’ time, but who knows what we’ll be able to do by then? Anyway, this time we will always be here for them,’ said Chief.

  ‘Yes, and we will always have each other,’ said Mother.

  ‘Always,’ said Chief.

  THE END

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  John Lilley is a Master of Engineering. He has spent most of his life building mathematical models and writing technical documentation. He lives in Hertfordshire where he enjoys gardening, riding motorcycles and making stuff.