A Thousand Ages

by D. E. Ellis

  Wormald began investigating a possible breakdown in the Unisphere’s wireless. Soon he gave it up. There seemed to be nothing obviously wrong. Perhaps,when they entered Earth’s atmosphere, they would be able to make contact, even if the relay system was no longer operating.

  Time passed slowly. It was difficult to sleep and for the last twenty-four hours they gave up the pretence.

  Earth loomed larger. They matched their speed to that of Earth’s and began to circle. Once in orbit, held there by the velocity and the pull of Earth, they cut out the power driving them and watched the globe turning below. Continents and oceans showed beneath the fluffy clouds, sailing serenely over the surface. America, South and then North, and a few minutes later they were over the Pole. The outlines of Europe, England, came and passed by. There was something different about them, but they were over too swiftly to note details. The Mediterranean, Africa …

  The map they had learnt by heart at school was no longer of service. The lower half of Africa was missing, replaced by water. A few islands were dotted here and there. A little to the West in what had once been the Atlantic ocean, a new land had arisen. It was a continent about the size of Australia. They stared, fascinated, as they flashed over it; then they were over the South Pole and on the other side of the world again.

  “What a terrible catastrophe there must have been,” remarked Dunstable, in a hushed voice.

  “Have you noticed that the moon hasn’t yet put in an appearance,” added Kenton.

  Silence followed his observation as the others realised they had not seen it either.

  “Perhaps it was on the other side of the world as we crossed its orbit. We’ve been too busy looking at Earth ever since to notice whether it is there or not,” Dunstable answered.

  “Bruce is right,” put in Thursfield. “We had to allow for it when we made our last series of calculations. It is our duty to navigate you in safely and the moon should have been on our port side as we crossed its orbit. It wasn’t there!”

  “I suppose there’s no chance of those calculations being wrong, is there? No offence meant, and all that. A thousand years is a dickens of a long time over which to estimate the probable course of the moon on a certain day.” Courton was clutching at the last straw.

  “Apart from some variation that would be impossible to predict, I can guarantee those those figures. What’s more it isn’t exactly a thousand years since we left home, although we’ve all been referring to it as such—it’s nine hundred and ninety-eight years, four months and five days. I’ll add the hours and minutes, too, if you doubt our accuracy. Anyway our calculations were good enough to set the correct course to bring us sixteen light years home.” Thursfield was really getting waspy now. Arnot hastened to interrupt.

  “No moon—it won’t seem like home any more.”

  There was so much unconscious truth in his words that they fell once more into silence. By using power with a slight braking effect, Thane broke the orbit and took up another nearer Earth. This time, they were just able to discern signs of habitation on the new lands, and also profuse vegetation, making it quite clear that a considerable time had passed since the disaster. There was now no doubt in their minds as to the age in which they would find themselves. It was certainly not the one in which they had left.

  It cheered them somewhat to think that man had survived whatever had happened.

  Landing now began to occupy their thoughts. Like a skilful jockey, Thane mad use of the atmosphere to brake their speed. Such fuel conservation was not really necessary with the Unisphere’s large reserves; but long training in other types of space ships had so ingrained this method into him that he automatically went through the procedure. In any case, since caution was advisable, there was no great hurry to land. The longer the process took, the more time they would have to survey the scene and surmise what they could from it.

  It was clear that civilisation had not been completely shattered—for here and there on all the continents there were small towns, obviously inhabited; but the complex society they had left had disappeared without a trace, as far as they could see from the air.

  Arnot was proposing to land upon the island from which they had commenced their journey, provided it still existed. The discharge from the ship’s tubes was still a potential danger to life. He hoped that the island would still be uninhabited, being so small and bare, particularly now that the world seemed to have plenty of land to spare.

  The speed of the Unisphere had slowed to 500 m.p.h. as it passed low over England. Such was the immense range of speeds of which the ship was capable that it was possible to manoeuvre her much the same as an ordinary aircraft, once she entered the atmosphere. This was possible by the use of retractable back-swept wings, which Arnot had brought into use once their speed had slowed sufficiently.

  It was a dull day and visibility was not good; but, from the little they could see between the clouds, England was no longer separated from the rest of Europe. It was larger and its outline had changed until it was scarcely recognisable. Circling as low as he dared, Arnot was able to pick out the old outline, now many hundreds of feet above sea-level. The island from which they had started still existed as a mountain plateau rising from the North Coast of Scotland.

  “Did you see it?” Thane asked Bruce, as they circled once more.

  “Yes but I didn’t like the look of those cliffs. Fancy having to clamber down those to reach civilisation. There must be many more suitable places, now that the population is so scattered. Those islands over there, for instance.” He pointed to some new islands that had been thrown up off the coast of Sussex.

  “You’re right, but we’ll have to take a chance on the island being uninhabited. I would risk gliding in, if we could find a level spot.”

  “Not much chance of anything approaching a smooth runway on those islands. They’re little more than rocks. How about that one?” Bruce pointed out an almost completely bare rock, with less than an acre of reasonably level surface. It could obviously support no permanent dwelling; but Thane was afraid there might be someone there, fishing for the day. They circled it slowly, looking for signs of movement. Finding none, Thane decided to risk a tail landing. Directing the bows of the ship vertically upwards, he sent her climbing to gain height to manoeuvre. Minutes later, the Unisphere had successfully accomplished her second landing.

  Chapter 7

  In their enforced imprisonment, while waiting for the earth around them to cool, they spared a moment to congratulate themselves on their safe return.

  “I wish Mac were here now. This would have been his great moment. The Unisphere was his brain-child. I don’t think he would have cared what happened to him personally after this, nor even that such an unbelievable time had passed. He would have had the satisfaction of knowing that she had fulfilled his hopes so worthily.” Thursfield’s voice shook with emotion as he remembered his friend.

  Wormald gazed at Arnot and Dunstable reflectively. He was remembering the youth who had so enthusiastically embarked on the journey and comparing him with the sure, far-sighted leader they had today. he was ready to consider the opinions of others, but did not shirk the responsibility of making decisions. As for Dunstable, Wormald had hated what had, at first, appeared to him to be a snivelling wretch; but now he was obviously a man to be reckoned with, a man of quiet strength and sure purpose.

  “Look, there are some boats coming from the mainland,” shouted Bruce. They observed three small boats being rowed towards the island.

  “Are you sure we haven’t gone back a thousand years instead of forward?” asked Grant suddenly. “These boats, and what we have seen of the size of their towns, would fit in with the history of that period.”

  “Don’t forget the moon has gone, and also the lower half of Africa. England wasn’t joined to the mainland then either,” reminded Bruce.

  The five occupants of the first boat stepped ashore and climbed to the higher ground on which the Unisphere stood. There they
stopped, being unable to proceed over the wide expanse of scorched, melting rock which separated them from the ship.

  From their vantage-point, the travellers could just make out their clothes. Strangely enough they were not so very different from their own. The upper garment had tight wrist bands and met the lower one in a wide belt. The lower garment was a slightly looser version of the trousers they themselves wore, ending at the ankles with tight bands similar to those round the wrists. They also wore hats resembling pill-boxes, with a covering that came down over the ears and fastened under the chin.

  “Thane, has it occurred to you that in a thousand years the English race may have ceased to exist. They don’t look English to me. They may even be hostile,” Bruce suggested.

  “They don’t appear to be carrying any weapons,” answered Thane. “I hadn’t given a thought to their probable nationality, but it did occur to me that the English language might have changed beyond all recognition. Let us hope it is basically enough like ours for us to communicate with them.”

  The ground was cooling off rapidly and, one hour after they had landed, the reception party, enlarged by four more from the other two boats began to move towards them. Meanwhile the crew passed away the time with a meal before opening up the air-lock. By the time they had it open, the reception committee was waiting outside.

  A blast of cold air met them, and for a moment, in spite of their insulated suits, the space men shivered. Their hands and faces were unprotected and, after the regulated heat of the Unisphere, the raw wind took them by surprise.

  One of the party spoke, but it was in a language unintelligible to any of them—although, now and again, a word seemed to have a familiar ring. There was no sign of fear on the impassive faces of the reception committee. Neither were there any signs of aggressive defence against the intrusion of the strange machine. Arnot felt helpless. How did one explain that they had returned after a thousand years, even without any language difficulties? As it was he could think of no plausible explanation that he could convey to them by signs. He turned to the others.

  “At least, they don’t seem unfriendly. I suppose we had better go with them. That seems to be what they want us to do.”

  “They don’t seem very friendly, either,” muttered Bruce, “but there’s not much else we can do. We had better take a few weapons, though, just in case.”

  “No! No! that’s the craziest idea you’ve ever had, Bruce,” answered Thane sharply. “This is their world. We are merely guests and, if we can’t fit into it, then life won’t be worth living anyway. We might as well let them kill us, if we can’t persuade them otherwise.”

  “I’m afraid you’re right, Thane. We have nothing to fight for except the right to live out our lives peacefully amongst them—and that wouldn’t be gained by fighting. Men usually fight for their country, families and friends, and also the future. This is the future. Our families and friends, and probably our country, no longer exist. As for fighting for ideals, we don’t know what ideals they have yet—and, in any case, it is surely none of our business. We should have been dead, many, many years ago.” Thursfield would have pursued the subject longer, but by this time Wormald had erected the ladder and they descended to the ground.

  The first one down the ladder, Thane turned and found himself looking into the steel-grey eyes of a middle-aged man. Feeling bound to say something, whether or not it would be understood, Thane uttered that ridiculous understatement.

  “We’ve been away from Earth rather a long time and things seem to have changed somewhat since we left. Are you English?”

  The man seemed to understand the word ‘English’; at least, he repeated it. Then Arnot felt his brain going numb; but, the next moment, he had a picture in his mind which he felt sure was not conjured up by himself. He saw himself and his friends stepping into the rowing boats and being conveyed to the mainland. Other pictures showed them transported by an underground route to a place that was evidently some kind of central government, or seat of leaning.

  He realised instantly that the man had communicated his thoughts to him. He tried to do the same but without success.

  He spoke to the others: “I think he’s going to take us to some kind of authority. They have a very convenient system of thought communication around here. It’s a pity we can’t reciprocate. Did you all get the message?”

  Thursfield showed signs of unusual jubilation. “That’s progress for you. They had just succeeded in finding a method by which a few people could develop their natural talents to a high degree when we left. But no one would ever have thought it would progress to this extent. The information must have been directed at you. I never received the slightest whisper of a thought. How about you others?”

  Their astonishment had been as great as his, for none of them had caught the message. Nevertheless, they stepped into the boats quite submissively and were rather amused by the novelty of their slow progress. Demeter’s gravity had made it difficult to move at all quickly there, but their minds had accepted it on a strange world. Back on Earth, the habits of a lifetime came to the fore and all deviations seemed strange.

  When they reached the mainland, horse-drawn vehicles awaited them. Signs were made for Kenton, Arnot and Dunstable to enter the first, while the tree older men were ushered into the second. Their escorts split up into two parties to accompany them.

  They passed several houses built on simple lines. They rather resembled those built about 2000 A.D., but no trace of this kind of building had existed in their day—owing to the need for housing a huge population in the smallest possible space. People they passed where engaged in the tasks of the countryside in an unhurried and peaceful manner. The nature of most of these tasks eluded the travellers, used as they were to high-powered machinery performing nearly every detail of agricultural production.

  They reached the underground system, without seeing any sign of the large housing estates that had crowded the area so long ago. Here they felt more at home. “If this isn’t the same type of lift we used in our day, I’ll go back to Mars!” exclaimed Bruce. “And the train—I’m sure it still runs on atomic power.”

  They found themselves regarded with curiosity by people about to step on to the train; but they were hustled into a carriage, before they had a chance to take stock of them properly. They did just manage to notice that most men wore similar dress to their escorts, while the women seemed to have gone back to the Classic Age and wore becoming gowns. These, although they were not as inconveniently long as those of their ancient sisters, were as cunningly draped to flatter the figure. The proportion of women they saw was remarkably small, considering that, when they left, women had greatly exceeded men in numbers and invaded most of their preserves, working equally well side-by-side with them.

  “I suppose they are just making use of the old entrance to the underground system. There’s no town here now. I wonder they didn’t close it and build another in a town centre,” remarked Arnot.

  The journey took about thirty minutes. They were conveyed upwards by a small lift, out of which they stepped into a nobly-proportioned hall. The marble columns, moulded roof and beautiful walls, made them stop in wonder. They had seen nothing like it before. Even the churches that had belonged to the ages before theirs could scarcely have equalled this. Their machine age had been able to offer nothing comparable. This was the work of craftsmen.

  Their escort allowed them to gaze. The leader gave a little smile and appeared more friendly. Nevertheless he conveyed a thought of a council of men assembled awaiting them.

  “I think I’m going to like it here,” murmured Thursfield.

  “Let’s hope you are going to have the chance to enjoy it,” answered Thane, anxiously. “I suppose our futures are about to be decided.”

  They were led up a grand staircase and through wide corridors. Eventually, they stood before double doors, which slid aside at their approach. Here, their escort faded into the background. They were led into a magnificent c
hamber in which a group of about twenty men were arranged round a horse-shoe-shaped table.

  Arnot and his companions were directed to seats at a small table in the middle. They sat down under the steady appraisement of all assembled there.

  “This is the first time I’ve been on trial, in spite of all my wicked doings,” Bruce joked feebly in a whisper to Thane. The faces around gave no indication of their nationality. Some, indeed, seemed to be of darker hue than others. Thus, it came as a surprise to be addressed in their own tongue by a man seated to the left of the central presiding figure.

  “We have had a message sent to us that the language you speak is English. It is an old language, spoken by the people who inhabited this land prior to the Disaster. I, as a professor of ancient languages, have been asked to interpret what you say to the Council assembled here, and also to convey their words to you.”

  Their attention was drawn to the man in the centre as he interrupted. Old, yet somehow ageless, his face seemed to hold the wisdom of centuries. His eyes reflected serenity and peacefulness. His apparent authority weighed lightly upon him. He resembled one of the ancient lamas that had once pursued their wisdom apart from the races of men in the most inaccessible parts of the world—until, that is, progress had made all places accessible, and quiet meditation impossible.

  He spoke a few sentences in the same language that had been used by their escort. The man on his left translated.

  “It has been observed that you have not the art of thought-communication. If you had, it would not be of much use to you at the moment, since we would all like to hear your story and thought transference is not very effective between more than two people. Some remarkable people have the gift of broadcasting to an audience. But, as those specialists are otherwise occupied, we shall as is usual at our meetings, use the spoken word. Thus, you will not find yourselves at a disadvantage.

  “We have noticed that you are not unfamiliar with certain things on this planet, whilst others seem to take you by surprise …” Arnot thought he was insulated against shocks, but these words startled him. The Council had not spoken with the escort yet, but they seemed to know all their reactions since landing. Even while they had been sitting there, their escort had been mentally conversing with the others.