by Peter Ponzo
"Inside? Certainly not," David said. "Humans will inhabit all of Earth, including the seventy percent of Earth's surface which are the oceans of the world. Like fish, they will breathe in water and, like dolphins, they will breathe air."
"Yet they will live in Aquadomes?" I asked, overwhelmed by what I was hearing. "And Gill's child, does it have gills? And my child, will it have gills?"
"Why yes, of course." David said. "All children blessed by God will be equipped for ocean dwelling. Imagine the freedom. Our long held desire to fly, finally realized. A three dimensional medium to savor. Children will cavort with dolphins, teenagers will hunt sea cucumbers, young men will demonstrate their agility in submarine Olympic events, adults will collect shrimp and clams and sea plants–and yet all will be able to ascend to the land and explore and repopulate terra firma if that is their wish. At last the planet, all three dimensions, will be accessible to mankind."
Our child will have functioning gills? I looked at Susan. She was pleased with that outcome of our lovemaking, an event witnessed by almost every bloody person we knew. It seemed that I was the only character around who knew nothing of what was happening, what was planned. I somehow felt that even Hydra, that stupid clone of Susan, that even she understood the future of the human race, the corruption of the natural order of things. Damn it all!
"Is this what God had in mind when he initiated life on Earth?" I asked, dumbfounded. "If so, why did creatures crawl out onto the land and lose their ability to breathe under water?"
"Ah Gordon, my boy," David said. "The complex organic molecules of life needed to assemble into unicellular organisms, to coagulate, to organize genetic information, build DNA, self-replicate. This can only happen in a fluid where molecules have three dimensional freedom of movement. Can't you see? Single celled structures learned, through random processes, to organize into multicellular creatures. That requires vast amounts of energy, energy readily available in deep-sea hydrothermal vents." David was beaming.
"But God, if he knows the outcome of all this evolutionary stuff, could have just made land animals right from the beginning," I said, slightly upset. "He could have made aquapeople, right from the start. Why wait a billion years? Just wave his hand and…"
"Gordie, sweetheart," Susan said, "do you really need to be reminded, again and again, that God provides guidance, always within limits, always letting his natural laws prevail. Imagine all the failed variations that lived in the sea, the ones that became extinct because they couldn't adapt, prokaryotes and eukaryotes and three billion years of modifications, annihilations, success…until, eventually, God created Gordon Blend." She kissed me hard on the lips just as I was about to protest. What was Susan talking about? I hardly knew this woman.
"Damn it all!" I said, almost shouting. "I don't believe in all this God crap! I don't know how this ship works, how it gets energy from empty space, how it manipulates gravity and influences genetic variation, how it collects black holes, but it damn well isn't some God. It's some super human race, some super intelligent beings, some Grand Poobahs, some remarkable creatures made these Godships and set them on autopilot. I don't know their intent but it sure as hell wasn't to help humans survive a solar catastrophe. That's autopilot behavior. These ships have been computerized, programmed, automated, given extraordinary abilities by an extraordinary culture and now they're just doing their thing…whatever that is. How the hell could we possibly know their intent?"
Susan and David just stared at me. I didn't mean to rant and rave, but I was fed up with all this God talk. I read once that a sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. We were living in an environment that depicted that magic. Susan began to say something, then remained silent.
David gave me a vague smile and said, simply: "Call it an extraordinary culture…or call it God."
Part 12.4
Our last day in Aquarius Pacifica was memorable. Shatoya looked magnificent with her colossal Afro and midnight blue robe that fell from her shoulders to the floor, her ebony skin glowing in the bright lights. A large crowd had gathered in the cafeteria and a raised platform had been constructed. Shatoya was speaking:
"Aquarians, we are gathered here to bid a fond farewell to our guests." She pointed to the front row of seats where Susan, David, Gill and I were seated. There was a short burst of applause. "They have come, accompanied by many Godships to assist us in our struggle, to move to shallower water, to adapt to our watery environment. Although we have had some small success in the development of structures necessary for breathing oxygen from water and from air, we now have an entire community of aquapeople."
Shatoya pointed to an area of the room where dozens of native children waved and jumped up and down with delight at having been recognized. When they were quiet, Shatoya continued.
"Now their work here is done, our guests and all Godships except ours will leave. Our own Godship, Uruk, will always be with us, to guide us, to protect us, to support our efforts to develop a society free of want, free to roam both land and sea and free to evolve. Now I'd like everyone to show their appreciation."
Everyone except our front row rose and began to sing the Pacifica National Anthem. I couldn't make out all the words and it sounded more like a prayer, an old time gospel hymn…but I did hear:
God grant us strength to love
The wonders you provide.
Cherish the stars above
Cherish the ocean tide.
The stars above? Most Aquarians had never seen the stars above, yet it was in their anthem. I glanced sideways at Susan. She apparently knew what I was thinking because she nodded and whispered: "That anthem was written centuries ago when the night sky was known to all." Susan's knowledge always amazed me. When I first met her, she was…she was less than exceptional. I felt somehow superior, better informed. I graduated at the bottom of my class, yet I was smarter than my wife. That had always been a comfort. Now, after months of Godship familiarity, I was the idiot and she was the intellect. I remember when we first came on board, I tried to teach her how to mind-talk to Gilgamesh, to think what she wanted, to walk through walls. Now I find that my abilities have waned and hers have expanded dramatically. Often, she would talk to David of things that were completely foreign to me. Dark matter conversion? What the hell was that? And gravity control? She probably understood how that was accomplished and…
"So, finally, I would like to ask Mr. Gordon Blend to say a few words."
Susan poked me in the ribs. What? Me? Say what words? I looked up and saw Shatoya, all smiles, reaching out for my hand.
"Go, Gordie, say something nice," Susan whispered.
I reached out and took Shatoya's hand, stood then stumbled then climbed clumsily to the platform. Shatoya stepped down. I looked about. There were hundreds of Aquarian faces staring at me. The far wall was covered with native children and their parents. There were the children that we had brought as well as those brought by other Godships. Susan, David and Gill were grinning. Next to Gill, Lucas was nodding as though he was offering encouragement. Beside Lucas, that brat, Althea, was frowning. I coughed to clear my throat, scratched my chin and ran my hand through my hair.
"Well…uh, it's a great honor, of course, to say–to give–some parting words, to say something nice." What a stupid start to my speech! "I just want to thank everybody for their kindness and hospitality and, uh, sea food." Sea food? I'm an idiot! I hated the stuff! "Especially rapple which I really enjoyed," I added.
Everyone laughed, a delicate laugh.
"Yes, I'll carry with me fond memories of tall glasses of that divine liquid," I said.
The laughter became quite loud. I was warming to my task. Susan was smiling.
"Indeed, I've asked our Godship–whose name is Goldamesh which, I think, means a golden mesh–I've asked that he stock up on rapple to be used to enthrall his passengers and fuel the vessel in case we run out of black holes."
I could see many in the crowd bent over, laughin
g helplessly.
"Now those terrible blue-green algae cakes, they could provide heat resistant shielding when our craft descends into the atmosphere and…"
Susan stood up, grabbed my hand and pulled me from the podium. The crowd went silent. Shatoya quickly jumped onto the stand:
"Thank you Mr. Blend," she said. "Now, Aquarians, please leave quietly in alpha-order. There will be a video review of the past four days in the observatory as well as dome-wide transmissions. You won't want to miss the video presentation."
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Part 13.1
I stood in the alcove, looking down at the sea. The sky was a magnificent blue and the water crystal clear. We couldn't have been more than a few hundred meters above the ocean and I could clearly see the Aquadome. It looked several kilometers long and perhaps a kilometer wide in the center, much like the cigar shape of Godships. Attached to the side, like a tumor, was Uruk. I'd never seen that Godship before and it was tiny, as Godships go. There were dark bodies swimming about in the surf; the native children, no doubt. There were also dolphins, hundreds of them, circling the dome and leaping in the air. It was a beautiful sight.
"Aren't you sad to leave?"
I looked about and saw that Susan was by my side. She slipped her arm about my waist. "They are such splendid people, the Aquarians," she said. "Now, without population restraint, they will hopefully live long and happy lives–if not the current population then their descendants."
"Population constraint? What constraint?" I asked.
"In order to prevent overpopulation in a closed system." I recognized David's voice, behind me. Shit! Did he always have to show up? "Although the Aquadome was built to house a half million people," he said, "limits on life expectancy prevented the attainment of that maximum population."
"So God killed people off after, what? Fifty years?" I said with as much sarcasm as I could muster.
"No, it's in the genetic makeup of Aquarians, apoptotic DNA fragmentation, programmed cell death. It's a consequence of limited resources and spatial containment within the dome. However, because we have brought new blood and the Aquarians will now be able to leave their quarters beneath the sea, their genetic makeup will eventually change and the population will grow to fill the void–as it were."
"But Hudson lived to be eighty," I said, as though that shot a huge hole in David's argument.
"Yes. Because of random genetic variation, there are some individuals who have longer life. It's all in the probabilities, you understand."
"Okay. God is a probability distribution," I said, hoping to end the discussion. "Susan, can I speak to you…alone?" I looked at David and he turned and walked away. "Is David listening? Will he know your thoughts? Are we really alone, you and I?"
"Yes, of course," Susan said.
We went to our bedroom and sat on the bed. I tried to turn the lights down low, but Gilgamesh wasn't listening. Susan winked and the lights dimmed. I hated that!
"I want to go home," I said. "I miss our apartment by the lake. I miss…I miss Sandy, that clever little mutt that yapped too much but gave his love while only asking to be loved in return."
I could see the glint of tears in Susan's eyes. I knew she missed Sandy, too. She put her arms about my neck and rested her forehead on my chest.
"I know it will be difficult," I said. "I understand that there's little there to greet us, make us welcome, but maybe we can talk some people from Aquarius Atlantica to join us and we can begin anew."
"Are we going to Atlantica?" Susan asked, surprised.
"Yes, I think so. I asked Gill and he said we could pay them a visit."
"I thought that that trip was cancelled. The Godships have already done their thing–whatever that was."
"Can you ask Gill? Or maybe you can ask Gilgamesh directly? Can you do that?"
"You said you wanted me to turn off mind-talk."
"Well, yes, but now you can turn it back on…to talk to our Godship, to find out our next stop."
Susan closed her eyes and leaned against my side, her chin resting on her chest. I waited. She seemed to be in a trance. I saw the tiny hairs arise from the back of her neck. Communication antennas. A purplish bruise began to appear. I thought that they had gone, departed, ceased to exist. It took almost two minutes, then the hairs withdrew and the scar vanished. That was scary. Susan was still under the authority of Gilgamesh…somehow.
"You were right," she said, looking weary. "Next stop, Aquarius Atlantica…then Burlington." Then she lay back on the bed and was soon sound asleep.
Part 13.2
The next time I looked out the alcove port I could see no Godships. They had 'done their thing', that's what Susan had said. I imagined 'their thing' was to deliver people with gills to Aquarius Atlantica and maybe a move to shallow water. Were there people like Susan and David on board the other Godships, watching and assisting? Were there synthetic life forms, like Gill and Hydra? Were humans with gills deposited there? And the super race that created these Godships, the Poobahs–were they aware of what was happening? Where were they, anyway? And how different was Atlantica? Would it have children like Althea who could communicate with their Godship?
In fact, did they have an attached Godship, like Uruk? Although I've never seen any evidence of the super race–other than their Godship creations–and Pacifica certainly wasn't aware of any alien life forms, maybe Atlantica was. Perhaps the Aquarians at the bottom of the Atlantic had a history that described a super race, some mythology that suggested alien visitations. Maybe we'll find answers when we arrive. I was looking forward to the adventure…for a short while, then on to Burlington.
It was late in the day when a sudden hum in the walls announced that Gilgamesh was no longer in motion. I had noticed this several times before. When we stopped moving, there was a short period of humming, then silence again, then walls seemed to separate, rooms enlarge. At the time, I was listening to an audio recording of Tchaikovsky. I can't remember the name, but I've had heard it a thousand times. In fact, it was one of the few pieces of music I recognized; something about nut crackers. I hated opera and classical music that just went on and on, repeating the same old tune. I hated that rock stuff, with silly melody and sillier words.
But the nut crackers brought back pleasant memories from the time when I played it every evening while working at Burlington Communications, by the lake. Back then, it was on an audio disk. Now it was just there, in the room, because I asked for it. I thought my mind-talk abilities were gone–because so few of my requests were granted–but they were just in low gear. Gilgamesh listened when I didn't ask for much: some food, some furniture, some music. I didn't even have to identify the music. It was always the same: nut crackers.
I ran to the porthole and saw that it was a gray day with gray clouds that filled the sky. At the surface, the Atlantic Ocean seemed disturbed, whitecaps everywhere. There was no sign of life. I don't know why I expected to see any sign of life on the surface. The water was in turmoil and I could see nothing below the surface either. I waited for David or Gill to arrive and say we'd be transporting to the Aquadome. I didn't know where Susan was. I had last seen her for our midday meal, then she went off with David, saying that they had work to do. I assumed it had to do with our imminent arrival at the location of Aquarius Atlantica.
I wandered from room to room, looking for Susan and the others. Usually, Gilgamesh understood where I was headed and a couple of room passages was sufficient. This time it took a dozen rooms, all empty, for me to eventually arrive in a large room where Susan, David and Gill were talking.
"Hello stranger," Susan said with a big grin. "We're waiting for the best time to initiate transport."
"What's the holdup?" I asked. I felt like suggesting that we just mind-talk, think that we'd like to go down and Gilgamesh would respond. However, they would have tried that already.
"Riots," Gill said.
"Huh? Riots? Where?" I was confused.
"The po
pulation on Atlantica is nothing like Pacifica," Gill said. "They are apparently a lower form of humanity that…"
"No, no," David said, interrupting. "They are just less civilized, less socially developed, more prone to emotional extremes–because of the conditions in their Aquadome."
"What conditions?" I asked. "I was under the impression that the Poobahs designed the Godships which designed these Aquadomes, so Atlantica would be the same as Pacifica."
"Poobahs?" Susan asked.
"Yeah. The super human race that is responsible for all this…this stuff," I said, waving my arm in a circle.
"There are no population controls here, as there were in Pacifica," David said. "The result of overcrowding is well known. Youngsters formed groups, separating themselves from and disrupting the rest of society. Anxiety and depression become commonplace in females. They become aggressive, abandoning their children. Sexual norms are abandoned. Violence and disruption of social organization results. Diseases that had been vanquished in Pacifica are rampant in parts of Atlantica."
"Oh Gordon," Susan said, pleading. "Now I think going down is a mistake. You asked to come here. Do you really want to transport to this awful place?"
I hadn't thought of what the conditions would be like on this Aquadome. I remember Shatoya warning us of the bizarre environment here.
"Well," I said, hesitantly, "can't we just drop in, take a quick look around then pop out again?"
Gill was shaking his head. "If that is your wish," he said.
"Yes, that is my wish," I said, defiantly. "I don't see why we can't look around without disturbing the status quo, do nothing to disturb the situation, do nothing to get ourselves in trouble…then we just pop back here to Gilgamesh."
I saw that David was shaking his head and even Susan looked troubled by my request.
Gill closed his eyes and I could see that we were fading. Wait! I didn't mean for it to happen right away! I was about to say something, but it was too late. I felt dizzy, then found myself emerging from molecular transport into some dark place. I whispered: "Susan? David?" There was no answer. I tried to mind-talk a little illumination, but that was pretty stupid since I assumed that I was now inside Aquarius Atlantica.