by Unknown
Several terminals had been added next to the Dome since I was last here. One large one for the Mothership and several smaller ones for the smaller crafts. There were several above ground transparent tubes that resembled jetways, extending from each terminal that led into the Dome city.
“Which Dome city are we visiting?” I asked.
Same as before. What used to be the state Kansas, of the former United States of America, Monroe replied.
It was the former land of our rival Jayhawk, who has now become very extinct. But then, that funny, awkward looking little bird was never a real bird in the first place.
It was the most feasible location to build in this continent. Earthquakes had made California part of the Pacific Ocean. The East Coast was also under water since the ice caps melted. The middle of the country, even though it is a wasteland, was more protected from the elements of nature and past manmade disasters, Monroe added.
“See I told you that one day you would be able to buy ocean front property in Arizona,” I whispered to Caren.
How about that, looks like the so-called environmental wacko’s were right after all. But I was to find out later, that there were other reasons for most of the Earth being a wasteland.
*****
Monroe, Caren and I departed the Mothership. Monroe escorted us to a small three passenger vehicle stationed at the entrance to one of the large circular transparent tubes. The tubes were perhaps ten feet in diameter and led to the city inside the Dome. These futuristic vehicles didn’t require a driver. I couldn’t detect any controls whatsoever, let alone a steering wheel. The inside was large enough to seat three people. One in the front with two seats in the back.
A skylight dome similar to the one on the Mothership sat atop the vehicle that enabled passengers a 360-degree view. The vehicle had no wheels that I could see. It was suspended about a foot above the ground, floating in the air. According to Monroe, it ran on some kind of magnetic power that was generated by the Dome. No more gasoline and no more pollution. That should appease the environment people.
Monroe waved his hand across an instrument panel, and we were off to the land of the Wizard of Oz. Only Dorothy and company won’t be greeting us this day.
“See, I told you that someday cars would be driving themselves,” I said to Caren.
“Pretty cool,” she replied. “It would be neat to have one to drive. I could put on my make-up and text without someone honking at me.”
“Hey, Monroe, what make of vehicle is this, anyway?” I asked.
It is a 2225 Ford Mustang. Ford is the only manufacturer of vehicles here in the future.
I could sense a matter of pride in his last statement. If I didn’t know better, I might have thought he had invested in some of their stock.
“Wow! A Mustang! Did you know that Tom had owned two Mustangs? A 1968 and a 1972 Mach I. They were his pride and joy before he bought the Z.”
Yes, indeed. I am fully aware of that fact.
“Now, how would you know that?”
I read his memoir. They are required reading in our historical social study classes.
Well, shut my mouth. Tom’s memoir had become a history book here in the future.
The Ford Mustang sped through the tube much like those containers do in vacuum tubes used at a bank’s drive-through window. Only on a much larger scale.
You could hardly sense any movement as the Mustang raced toward its destination. I pretended to be driving a victory lap in the Daytona 500 as we zipped along.
It didn’t take but a minute to arrive at a departing platform inside the Dome city. It reminded me of the subway systems in many of the major cities of our timeline.
These vehicles were not used for transportation once inside the Dome. They were only used for transportation into and from the Dome.
Transportation inside the Dome was something that was difficult to explain and trickier to understand. Every quarter mile or so were small structured cubicles positioned beside the walkways. Sort of like telephone booths that were once used before the cell phone was invented. Their entrance door was also used as the exit door. Each cubical could hold three persons, but they all had to be going to the same place.
Inside the cubical was a sphere (I don’t know what else to call it) suspended in mid-air that resembled a map of the Dome. Instead of transporting a call, the people inside were transported. All a person had to do was point to the location on the sphere where he/she wanted to go and bingo, the door opened, and he/she stepped out at the location pointed to.
Don’t ask me how it worked, but I suspect the time travel technology was used because the hair on my arms would dance right after choosing the destination.
The city under the Dome had a futuristic look you would see in sci-fi movies of our time line. The walkways inside the Dome looked to be paved with gold and were spotless of debris. There were large, immaculate sculptured statues of Earth history spaced among landscape dense with lush green gardens, complete with crystal clear pools and numerous water fountains. One could imagine being in the biblical Garden of Eden if not for the manmade structures.
It is late. After we nourish, I will escort you to your sleeping quarters. We will conduct a briefing in the morning, Monroe said, bringing me back to reality.
“Can’t you at least give us a hint as to why you need our help?’ I asked again while we ‘nourished.’
Patience grasshopper. I will inform you at the briefing tomorrow. You will require needed rest tonight.
Grasshopper? He must have seen an old Kung Fu movie.
“How are we supposed to sleep wondering what the heck is going on?” I asked.
There are sleeping aids in your quarters.
“Thank God!” Caren and I said at the same time.
“Want to take a guess what is going on?” Caren asked once we had eaten and were alone in our quarters.
“Your guess would be as good as mine, my love,” I replied. “Knowing Tom, it could be anything.”
Caren just frowned, bit her lip, and gave me an inquisitive look. We both knew it was going to be a long night.
Even with the sleeping aid, it was still a restless night. We both tossed and turned all night long.
When the rising sun finally peeked its bright yellow ray through an open window, Monroe was at our doorstep. By now, as you can imagine, Caren and I were a nervous wreck.
We could have done without breakfast, but Monroe insisted.
You will need your strength. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.
First rest. Now strength. Caren and I looked at each other. I know we were thinking the same thing.
Let’s get this show on the road.
After breakfast, Monroe led us to a different structure than where Tom and I first met. On the way there we passed another original who looked familiar to me.
“Hey, that’s one of the NASA officials,” I pointed out to Caren.
“Or his clone,” she added.
Remember the two NASA officials that escorted and introduced Tom to Monroe at Easter Island? If you recall, they were a bit snobbish and must still be, as he acted like he didn’t know me. His nose was stuck so far up in the air that if it were raining, he would have drowned.
Okay, forget him. I never liked him in the first place. Let’s carry on and see what Monroe has up his sleeve. I had a feeling we weren’t going to be too pleased with why he brought us here.
Although most of the structures looked the same on the outside, they were different on the inside. Once inside this one, it reminded me of the combat operations center on the aircraft carrier I served on while in the Navy. We called it ‘the war room.’ My anticipation went up another notch.
There were all kinds of imaging gadgets, pictographs, holograms, and weird stuff that was impossible to describe and know their functions. Stuff straight out of a sci-fi movie for sure.
I sensed extreme tension in the room as we entered. There were several nervous technicians manni
ng their stations. A Warrior stood over each one, holding something that looked to be a weapon. Everyone turned to stare at Caren and me as if we had invaded their domain. They seemed to be on needles and pins and had no clue where the haystack was.
Scrutinizing a 3-d digital image screen, one of the Warriors informed Monroe, “They are still absent from the Dome. Their helmets and tracking devices are still off line. Tom and Karen are still missing, along with their offspring. I trust their clones will be able to find them.”
Monroe turned to face the Warrior. He had lost his in-command look. I noticed a spark of fear on his face.
What could he be afraid of? I wondered.
CHAPTER TWLEVE
Legitimacy
We require your assistance to discover their location, Monroe said, as he glanced at the Warrior, who seemed to be in charge, as if looking for approval.
We have not ruled out that they may have been kidnapped. However, there have been no demands for a ransom. They have disappeared from the Dome.
Monroe’s gaze dropped to his hands and I noticed they were twitching.
Monroe is usually so composed, I wonder what’s got into him, I thought.
As their clones, you have a special connection with them, which should enable you to locate them. We required the both of you, since they may have been separated, Monroe added.
Again, I noticed that he focused on the Warrior but I was too preoccupied with another thought.
Caren and I looked at each other, as both our jaws dropped. My stunned expression reflected hers.
“Are you thinking the same as I am?” I asked her.
“Most likely,” she replied.
We turned to face Monroe.
“You mean Tom and Karen are together here in the future?”
Of course, replied Monroe, with a surprised look. Why would they not be?
It would have never crossed our minds that they (we) would be together here in the future too. But, when you stop and think about it, it made perfect sense.
Most of the originals became acquainted here in the future, as they had in the past. After all, that was one reason they were chosen and the purpose of the exchange. Tom and Karen have produced several children.
This might be confusing to you and require an explanation. If you remember, Tom was 35 years old, and Karen was 30 at the time they traveled to the future to trade places with their clones. But at that time, they hadn’t met yet in their past timeline. Are you following me here?
“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. If that don’t beat all,” I said to no one in particular.
Our originals’ hooked up here in the future as well. Goes to show you love has no time boundaries. If you remember, it was several years down the road after I replaced Tom that Caren and I met in our timeline. Looks like our descendants did their homework.
“Why would someone want to kidnap them?” Caren asked, after recovering from our unexpected surprise.
“And who?” I added.
That is unknown but keep in mind that the kidnapping theory is just one assumption, Monroe said. I noticed his face had an evasive look.
However, whatever the circumstance, it is suspected they may be in a cavern somewhere close to the previous Kansas City metropolis, since they could not have travelled far on foot. Due to the thin atmosphere the wastelands cannot sustain an originals life for an extended period of time. These caverns are the only locations that could sustain and support life for a lengthy time span.
That made sense because in my timeframe Hollywood had explored themes about Armageddon threats to the human race, either through manmade climate shifts, meteor impacts, global war, or alien invasion. These ‘doomsday’ theories sparked preparation for elaborate shelters to survive any world-changing catastrophe events. Both Missouri and Kansas landscape contained many natural limestone, sandstone and gypsum caves, as well as many manmade underground shelters. Most are anywhere from 100 to 150 feet below the surface and have a constant natural temperature in the upper 60s and low 70s.
“Why haven’t you sent out search teams?” Caren asked.
“Or a drone? All this modern technology, and you’re telling us you can’t find them?” I added.
The area has many caverns and caves. Our instruments to detect life forms cannot function that far below the ground surface as there are so many natural barriers. It would require too much time and too many searchers. Searchers that we do not have available. Keep in mind it has been 37 years since we started the replacement program. My generation’s population has diminished significantly during that period. There are barely enough of us left to maintain and operate the Domes.
“Where are all the other abducted originals and their siblings that had been born in the last 37 years? Can’t they be of help?” I wanted to know.
They have all disappeared as well.
“Come on Monroe, you’ve got to be pulling our legs,” I said, in disbelief.
“This is truly unbelievable,” Caren added.
For what purpose would I want to pull on your leg? asked a confused Monroe. This was the second time I had used that phrase. For some reason, he was not catching on.
As you can see, this is turning out to be a much more elaborate crises than Monroe had led us to believe. How in the world could all the originals and their offspring disappear from the Dome? There had to be quite a few of them by now. And why? No way could so many be kidnapped at once.
There must be a logical explanation. Something was smelling fishy. And we weren’t getting an invite to any fish fry.
“Okay, Monroe. This is not making any sense. There has got to be something you’re not telling us,” I suggested.
His fake smile was a thin disguise. He turned away from Caren and me.
Ain’t no way to hide your lying eyes, Monroe, I thought.
I told you they would not believe me, Monroe said to the Warrior. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.
“For Pete’s sake Monroe, what the heck is going on? It sure isn’t time and taxes!”
“He’s hiding something,” Caren added.
Are you getting the feeling someone is not telling the whole truth, nothing but the truth, so help them? I’m beginning to suspect one of those ancient government cover-ups taking place here in the future.
What say you?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Exploration
I can imagine how difficult this is for you to comprehend. All I can state, at the moment, is that we are uncertain of the circumstances involving their disappearance, Monroe tried to reassure us, but he looked anxious. We require your help to locate them.
My gut feeling was telling me he was still dodging the bullet. But, I figured it best to play along for now and see where this tangled mess might lead. Again, Caren and I really had no other alternative.
Have either of you sensed their presence?
I looked at Caren and shrugged my shoulders, “I’m not getting anything. How about you?”
“Nada,” she replied.
“That has to verify they are not within our ESP range. That should confirm that they are outside the Dome,” I said to Monroe.
We have arranged transportation and supplies to travel to the northern bluffs above the Missouri River basin. That is the most logical area to commence our search.
Going to Kansas City, Kansas City, here I come, I started to sing. They got some crazy little something there and I’m hoping we don’t get burned, I adlibbed.
To refresh some history, Missouri had numerous natural deep dark caves that author Mark Twain described in his books about Tom Sawyer and his Huckleberry Finn friend. So get ready folks, we might have a Tom Sawyer type adventure brewing. Only, I don’t think we will be cruising the mighty Mo. (Missouri River).
Monroe said we would begin our search at what was once called ‘SubTropolis’. It was a 1,100-acre manmade cave carved in the bluffs above what was once the Missouri River, located just north of what was once Kansas City, Missour
i. It was claimed to be the largest underground storage facility in Tom’s timeline.
*****
Dug into the Bethany Falls limestone mine, it is, at places, 160 feet beneath the surface. It has a grid of 16 feet high, 40 feet wide tunnels separated by 25 foot square limestone pillars created by the room and pillar method of hard rock mining. The complex contained almost seven miles of once illuminated, paved roads and several miles of railroad track.
The cavern naturally maintains temperatures between 65 and 70° F (18 to 21° C) year round. It was used by many businesses and organizations as a place for storage and manufacturing at the time. It was known to have been stocked with food and water supplies to last several decades. Whether those stocks were still there and viable was anyone’s guess.
*****
There are many other similar caverns and caves of a smaller scale that exist throughout the area. But Monroe thought this was a good starting point since it was the most logical area to support human life for an extended period.
We must start our search immediately. Time is not on our side, Monroe said.
That’s funny, the inventors of the time machine are griping about not having enough time? You’d think that they would have all the time in the world. Little did I know at the time what he might be referencing had everything to do with me, Caren and the other clones.
“Then we best shake a stick,” I suggested.
By the expression on Monroe’s face, I knew another phrase just went flying over his head and landed who knows where. Hopefully, someday, he will get tuned in on our generation’s language.
Caren and I hurried back to our room, where a change of clothes awaited. We were given a very light weight gray metallic, one piece, form fitting outfit that resembled a jumpsuit. The pants had shoes connected to them, which made them easy to slip into, with no shoe laces to tie. The jumpsuits stretched to fit any size.
