by Peter Ponzo
"You're not from here, are you?" he said. "You look quite different."
"No, we just dropped by," Gill said. "We came from a spaceship now hovering above Ganymede. We'd like to confer with your elders."
"Well, yes, I guess that could be arranged," he said. "A spaceship? From Earth? Is that possible?"
"No, not from planet Earth," Gill said. "However, we have been to Earth and will be there again, very soon. Now if you would be so kind as to call together your elders. We must shortly be on our way."
"Yes, yes, of course," the fellow said, then pulled a small device from his pocket and whispered into it. He seemed quite excited and when finished he tried to drop the device into his pocket but it fell to the floor.
"Darn!" he grunted. "That was my last communicator and it'll take months to get another."
Gill picked the phone from the floor and handed it back to the fellow.
"I'm sure it still functions," Gill said.
I could hear the device buzz and the fellow smiled and carefully placed it into his pocket just as the far door swung open and three people entered. They hurried across the room. They were all tall and very pale, with almost milky skin.
The lead individual slid out front and held out his hand.
"I am Hassan," he said. "I am the master of Coffin 3. I understand that you have a spaceship. We were aware of some vessel but weren't certain of its nature or intent."
"Yes," Gill said. "We are soon proceeding to Earth and would like to get feedback on your condition here on Ganymede."
"Yes, of course," Hassan said. "Please, sit and I will tell you what I can. In fact, why don't you join us at refection. It will be a simple meal, perhaps not what you are accustomed to, but it would be our pleasure. As you might have guessed, we have very few visitors. Indeed, our last visitor was from Io, many years ago...but I will leave that story until we eat."
Hassan pointed to the far door and we all headed out of the library. It was strange to see the curious stride of our hosts. We passed through several adjoining rooms; they were all rectangular and rather small, with low ceilings and walls covered completely in shelving. No wall space was vacant. We saw few individuals and those we saw were either sitting on plastic chairs and reading or in small groups, talking. They barely noticed us as we walked from room to room. Then Hassan stopped and pointed to a large table at the end of a much larger chamber. We all gathered about the table and sat on the chairs as Hassan whispered something to some individual dressed in white.
"Our food will be here shortly," Hassan said. "In the meantime I will tell you about our last visitor, from Io. She brought us the sad story of their last days. Their problems, on Io, were surprisingly different from ours. The surface temperature is hundreds of degrees below zero, as on our Ganymede, but its rock surface bulges up and down by as much as a hundred meters because of the gravitational effect of Jupiter. Io is also in the grip of Jupiter's magnetic field. As the planet rotates, its magnetic field strips away tons of material from the surface. The biggest difference, the difference that ended the settlement on Io, is the volcanoes."
Hassan looked despondent. He wrung his hands and lowered his head so his chin rested on his chest. I could see he was saying some sort of silent prayer.
I looked about and saw that all the other Ganymedians were also praying.
Hassan then told the story of the Jovian colonies.
The colonists had arrived hundreds of years ago from Earth and began establishing coffer habitats on three of the moons of Jupiter: Ganymede, Europa and Io. The environments were so hostile that in less than twenty years, the Europa and Io colonies had perished. On Io, the violence of the surface disturbances caused a series of volcanic eruptions. There was no escape–they all died. All except this one woman who was, at the time, outside her coffer, in her transport, preparing to come to Ganymede for medical supplies. Most coffers were on the surface and she saw the lava cover her home. On Ganymede, there is now a small mausoleum in her memory and there are periodic memorial ceremonies to honor those that died.
On Ganymede the colonists had built their coffers mostly underground, beneath the icy exterior, within the grooves which covered much of the moon. Many of the grooves were hundreds of meters deep. Although there was little or no light, they had survived the occasional tectonic convulsion. They had early established nuclear stations to generate energy and large hydroponics food stations with water from melted surface ice. It was difficult, but they were now quite able to enjoy and, indeed, relish the colony they had established.
"There are twenty seven Coffins, connected by underground channels," Hassan said. "We are Coffin 3 and our nearest neighbor is Coffin 7."
"Why do you call them coffins?" Susan asked.
Hassan hung his head. He hesitated and another of our hosts spoke up.
"The very last communication we had with Europa...it said their coffers had become their coffins. Our entire community on Ganymede heard the broadcast from Europa...many began referring to our establishment as coffins...we were all convinced that the end was in sight for us as well."
"Yes," Hassan said, "but it seemed to give us the strength to survive, to endure, to flourish. In memory of those who died on the other moons and as a reminder that we shall not perish, we began to refer to our homes as coffins. It was...it is a gruesome reminder."
"What problem did Europa have?" I asked. "Volcanoes?"
"No," said Hassan. "That moon has large subterranean oceans and cracks form on the surface due to tidal forces on those oceans. The entire habitat on Europa was swallowed by an oceanic eruption and eventual collapse."
"And how is life now, here on Ganymede?" Susan asked.
"We are all quite happy. We have sufficient food from our hydroponics, we have sufficient energy from our nuclear stations. We never go out, of course, but it's very commodious in our coffins. Our seven Earth-day orbit about Jupiter needs getting used to–and the lack of sun in our bunkers, of course. You were probably surprised to see our pallid skin color. The low gravity has resulted in muscle loss and height increases due to the expansion of supportive tissue. We have, however, overcome most physical problems with elaborate daily exercise regimes."
Hassan paused and looked at the nearest door to see if the culinary people were ready with our meal–but the door was still closed.
"Then, too," he continued, "we cannot grow certain vegetables. We only brought a few plant varieties and they must provide us with all our needs. None are root vegetables. We are, of course, vegetarians. Mostly leafy stuff, but the things that our culinary artists concoct from algae is quite remarkable. I believe that algae is God's greatest gift. The low gravity of Ganymede also seems to have affected our taste buds because we use lots of spices. I understand that was not the custom back on Earth. Aah, but our foremost regret is the lack of certain alcoholic beverages that we used to enjoy, many years ago. We do make a very good beer, however."
Hassan laughed and the others joined him.
"Yes," said one. "We are all told of the mock funeral when the last of the hard alcohol supplies was consumed, many, many years ago. For some reason we cannot reproduce the particular tastes that some elders remembered...remembered with great and loving affection."
They all laughed heartily as several men in white brought plates of food to our table. I leaned forward and inspected the dishes. Hassan stood and identified the contents of each plate.
"Bok choy, Swiss chard, spinach, kale," he said, then pointed to a particularly large platter. "Algae cakes," he said with pride. "You'll like them." I didn't like any of the stuff we were served. They were all greenish and soggy, tasted like curry and cinnamon and were quite bitter. I frowned, just a bit, and Susan gave me a dirty look as if to say: 'Don't you dare complain'.
When we had eaten our fill, Gill reached down to the cloth bag he had placed on the floor beside his chair. He placed the bag on the table directly in front of Hassan.
"Gentleman," Gill said. "I have a small
gift that may temporarily turn your below-ground sanctuary into an intoxicating heaven."
Hassan opened the bag and pulled out a bottle. He didn't recognize the label, but immediately understood its contents. Gill pulled out two more bottles and handed them around. In the bag were four small glasses. Gill opened a bottle and filled the glasses, passing a glass to each of our hosts. It was quite delightful to watch. Each sniffed the contents, closed their eyes and sipped very, very slowly. I leaned forward to read the label: Imperial Crown Whiskey, it said. I wondered how Gill knew to bring along bottles of whiskey. Even more intriguing, exactly four glasses for our four hosts. Gill did not have glasses for David, Susan or me. It's just as well. I would probably be unable to negotiate low gravity after a drink or three.
Part 7.4
Our stopover on Ganymede was just over one day. In the evening we transported back to the Godship, then returned the following day. Hassan showed us about their home. Although I pitied them for the limited food variety, their underground quarters were surprisingly comfortable. Almost all rooms had shelves filled with books, both audio and video, most having been written by Ganymedians. There were cushy chairs and sofas everywhere. There was even an observatory of sorts, a room with a large skylight that opened to the moon's surface and revealed the starlit sky.
Hassan arranged for several meetings with local scientists who asked a million questions about our Godship, its type of propulsion, how it managed to hover, its size, how many occupants it could hold, its maximum velocity, what other places it had visited. David and Gill took turns in providing answers. I just listened. I didn't learn anything I didn't already know. However I did learn that, when atmospheric conditions were just right, Ganymedians could communicate with Earth. I assumed that meant communication with the people living at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, but was surprised to learn that they were in contact with another habitat in the Atlantic. Apparently the depth of the Mariana Trench introduced severe distortion in the signal. I also learned that the Atlantic habitat had many problems, mostly racial, cultural and political. I wondered if we would be stopping there as well as the Mariana location.
Part 7.5
Near the end of the second day we said goodbye to the Ganymedians. Although Susan asked if they had any interest in returning to Earth in our Godship, they all said no. We had described the situation back on Earth, colonies at the bottom of an ocean. They were aware of the conditions in the Atlantic location and it seemed worse to them than their coffins on Ganymede. Besides, they were quite certain that Earth gravity would be disastrous after hundreds of years of low-gravity conditions. Their bones, Hassan noted, were brittle and would easily fracture.
It occurred to me that I never did find out how many people lived on this moon. I was happy to see that several hundred gathered to see us off. I suspect those that watched us depart were quite surprised to find that we just vanished before their eyes. Molecular decomposition is a transformation to behold. It's not all-of-a-sudden, but rather a gradual process where the body just seems to dissolve, bit by bit. It was similar to the dissolving of the walls on the Godship. I also suspect that there would be a great Ganymedian party the moment we left since Gill had managed to conjure up several dozen cases of Imperial Crown Whiskey. All in all, it was a wonderful stopover–but now we were finally on our way to Earth.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Part 8.1
When I next peered out the porthole–which seemed to resize according to the number of people in its vicinity–I could see the hundreds of Godships. I could also see a wonderful, glorious blue planet: Earth.
"It's beautiful," I whispered to myself.
"Gordie, it is splendid. Can not wait to be down."
I turned to see Teisha. She leaned forward then stood beside me and the porthole expanded. She placed a hand on my shoulder. The room brightened and I could hear others talking.
"I should think in an hour or two," David was saying. "We will hover over the Pacific along with a dozen Godships. Other ships have gone to other oceans."
"Then molecular transport to the surface?" Susan asked.
"Yes, it will be fascinating," David said. "However, it won't be to the Earth surface, not exactly.
"Welcome to our window on the world," I said. "I have a question for David."
"Please ask," David said. "I'll answer if I can."
"Why did God allow the sun to destroy so much of the Earth. Why not just wave his magic wand and..."
"Oh Gordon," Susan said. "You still don't understand. God makes just minor intrusions, minimal intervention, a slight change in direction, a small change in temperature. If a wind develops into a hurricane, that's because the laws of the cosmos–the laws that God set in place–they dictate such a circumstance. Having placed the laws in motion, why would God continually violate them?"
"Then this God doesn't care if people die?" I asked. "He creates an Earth and its inhabitants, then kills them off."
David grunted. "Gordon, God doesn't weep, neither does he rejoice. He just is. Have you read the Lord's Lament? It's an old poem that describes God's dissatisfaction."
"Yes," I said. "I do remember reading the poem. As I recall, God isn't sure how to punish humans for their neglect of the planet. Am I right?"
"Something like that," Susan said. "Human arrogance, hate, prejudices–what should God do, under the circumstances?"
"How about a solar holocaust," I said, looking from Susan to David.
They both nodded.
I noticed the porthole enlarge again and looked about to see that Gill had arrived to watch the show. He sidled up to Tiesha and put his arm about her waist.
"Have you told them?" he said to Tiesha.
"No," Tiesha said, somewhat flustered.
Gill raised his hand and the room became quite bright. Then he pulled Tiesha away from the porthole and raised her hand.
"The kingdom of God is within this woman," Gill said. "That is where God works his greatest miracle."
I heard Susan gasp. Tiesha was visibly pregnant.
"How is that possible?" I asked. "It's only been...what? A few weeks?"
"But Gordon, you must understand that we can move at light speed–in all things," Gill said.
David laughed. "It only took about two hours to fabricate Gill," he said.
"And two months to assemble my son," Gill added.
"You know it will be a boy?" Susan asked.
"Why yes," Gill said. "I asked that the first-born be male. He has an important role to play and it will be easier if he is a he. After so many years, Earth still has quaint notions about sexual differences, the role to be played by males and females, the lack of equality in all things."
I was baffled. Gill's son, Tiesha's son, he would play an important role? Where? And would he have gills that work?
"I think we must get ready," David said. "You needn't dress in any special way. The climate will be quite comfortable within the Aquadome."
David then walked through a wall and we all followed. When I emerged on the other side of the wall, I was alone in my room. Then Susan came through, right behind me.
"I can't imagine life in a dome beneath the ocean," I said. "Can you?"
"Not really," Susan said. "But I am looking forward to the adventure."
"Yes...I guess so," I murmured, but I wasn't so sure. In any case, the fabrication of this dome was clearly the work of the Godships that had descended into the ocean, way back when Susan and I lived in Burlington.
Part 8.2
We gathered in the transport room. It looked like all the other rooms: bare, featureless, blank walls with occasional blinking lights that had no purpose as far as I could tell. I think the electronics just flashed as part of its function. But the walls were colored a pale blue, unlike the other gray rooms. There was David, Gill, Tiesha and even Hydra, Susan's synthetic clone. It often occurred to me that Gill should have hooked up with Hydra rather than Tiesha. They were, after all, both androids and, I assume
, both had all the physiology necessary to make babies. Besides, I was under the impression that Tiesha was somehow coupled to David. But then, I was also under the impression that there was a kind of competition between David and Gill. Also, there was Tiesha's character: loose morals.
When it came time for the molecular beam transport, David looked at Gill as though he was recognizing Gills dominance, Gill raised his hand and we dissolved. I had the now familiar dizziness and then we were in a very bright enclosure surrounded by large humming machinery. The entire ceiling was glistening, as were the walls and floor. I had to squint. I assumed we were in some habitat in the ocean, but I could see nothing beyond the ceiling, no ocean, no fish, no seaweed, nothing. I looked around and saw that only David, Susan and Gill had transported. When my eyes became accustomed to the glare, I could see several people had gathered about us.
"Welcome to Aquarius Pacifica," one woman said. "My name is Shatoya, the Aquadome Supervisor, and we've been expecting you."
The woman was black, with gigantic Afro hairstyle. She was wearing a shoulder to ankle robe in midnight blue. She was strikingly beautiful.
"We are happy to be here," David said. "I hope we can assist in some way."
"You most certainly can," Shatoya said. "Our Godship has given us some indication of your mission here, but we eagerly await your elucidation."
"You talk to the Godship?" I asked.
"Talk? No, our Godship doesn't talk, but some of us do have mental communication with Uruk."
Shatoya turned to a young girl by her side. She, too, was black and couldn't be more than seven years old. She was also in a dark blue shoulder to ankle robe and a scarf was wrapped from the top of her head to her chin. Her face, framed in the head scarf, was adorable. Her eyes were narrow; she was squinting.
"This is Althea," Shatoya said. "She has learned to mind talk and is our best communicator."
Althea bowed and her long curly black hair cascaded over her head. Then she looked up at me and smiled, her mouth full of porcelain-white teeth. "Rookee is pleased," she said, giggling. "He told me you would bring us joyfulness."
"Rookee?" I asked.
Shatoya answered: "That's Uruk. He has been her baby sitter since she was about a year old. She is in constant contact with Godship Uruk."
