by D. E. Ellis
“‘We could not go back. Our only chance lay in reaching the hills, which were not more than five miles away. There we might find some caves which had survived, or even new ones. It mattered little so long as there was shelter of some sort.
“‘How we reached them, I do not know. There was no road left. Crevices and chasms, rocks and wreckage blocked our way. Lava bubbled here and there from the ground. We had to walk with our heads bowed lest the rain poured into our noses and mouths.
“‘We reached them somehow, and most of us survived. There we found several others sheltering among the numerous caves that had opened up. We also found a few animals which had instinctively fled there, crazy with fear. If it had not been for these we should have starved to death. It was two weeks before the rain eased in its intensity sufficiently to allow anyone out to forage for food. By that time, near starvation had turned us into walking skeletons.
“‘The forage party found some stored food that had survived the holocaust in the nearby town: but such was the quantity of synthetic meals eaten in our civilisation that there was very little real food stored away, the synthetic food being produced according to the immediate need. Without machinery, we had no means of using the raw materials to make some ourselves, and there was very little hope of the yeast cultures that had formed the base of it having survived.
“‘When the flooding subsided we became nomads and very much like the followers of Moses in the Bible; we have wandered through the wilderness. That is the only way to describe the world as it was then, and still is now. We can only hope that, by the time we have wandered for another twenty years, the land will begin to bear fruit again—and that, like Moses, we will come to our land of Canaan.’”
Varit laid down the scroll with reverent care.
“It’s amazing that such a civilisation as this has resulted in the short space of less than nine hundred years from such a beginning. I have a theory that this sort of thing has happened before. Goodness knows how many civilisations have been similarly wiped out, leaving no trace and nothing on which to build,” Dunstable commented. He was as visibly shaken as the rest at the awful fate that had overtaken the world as they knew it, but was making frantic efforts to adjust his thoughts and view the tragedy objectively from a distance.
“Maybe this Disaster was not as complete as some of the previous ones, if there is anything in what you say. We have found plenty of evidence of the scientific greatness of your age. And, possibly these early forefathers of ours came across some works of their contemporaries that, for some reason or other, had been protected and not completely destroyed. The Tube must have been a great reminder of what had been—and it also contained much information which helped them rebuild civilisation,” answered Varit.
“If that is the case can you explain why your civilisation is so non-technical? Apart from the Tube, we have seen little of any scientific achievements,” asked Thane.
“At first, the survivors spent all their energies wrestling a living from the soil. Once the poisons had cleared sufficiently for the first blade of vegetation to make its appearance, the land recovered surprisingly quickly. And in the course of a few years it became abundantly fruitful. By this time, only those survivors who had been twenty and under at the time of the Disaster were still alive. Most of those were approaching seventy and put it down to their old age when they noticed that their children and grandchildren seemed strange. It seems to have worried one of them enough to record the way in which they sit silently, smiling and looking at each other. He was sure they could read each others’ thoughts. Even when they were talking aloud, they had a habit of answering questions the old man hadn’t heard asked. He also describes the differences in the crops and the few remaining species of animals. Without this document we should have been ignorant of many changes, particularly of the fact that in your day, there was no mental communication.”
“I still don’t see why …” interrupted Thane.
“If you’ll just let me finish,” Varit said politely, but firmly. “When one is able to hold direct communion with another person’s mind, deception becomes very difficult. It is difficult for anyone to pretend greatness where there is none. And, similarly, it is possible for real greatness to be perceived. Thus, the need to strive to prove oneself materially has vanished, and a greater standard of values has taken its place. Long ago, it was decided to investigate the cause of your civilisation’s downfall. What was then discovered made a council of wise people determine that the knowledge that led to it should never be allowed to man again.”
“What of the Tube?” Thane could not resist another interruption.
“The Tube was built in your day to withstand anything. It is probably one of the greatest marvels engineering ever produces, but we know nothing of how it is powered. We use our skills to repair its entrances, but we do not know how to pierce a shell which even an earthquake could not destroy, so we could not build more convenient ones. You built it to run almost indefinitely without any attention, so we have found from the information contained in various books that were originally discovered in the Tube, many centuries age. We decided to accept this gift bequeathed us from your age, but we have no desire to invent aeroplanes or spaceships or other forms of excessive speed.”
“How do you communicate with other countries?” Bruce asked the question this time.
“We have several minds capable of really super thought transference to transmit messages. If we wish to go in person, we have animals to transport us, or we can walk. If the sea divides us from our destination we have ships. These are also used for transportation round coasts and upon rivers and canals. A few other countries also have tube systems that survived the Disaster. I must confess that civilisation has tended to group round these, perhaps because they were largely responsible for the original survivors.” Varit decided to end his lecture until the party had had a chance to see more for themselves. He was beginning to think a psychologist would have been better qualified to continue.
At this moment they were interrupted by the arrival of a distinguished looking visitor. Arnot recognised him as having been present at their ‘trial’. He was the dark-faced gentleman who had expressed the wish to learn of their experiences.
“I am Anu Rama,” he introduced himself. His white teeth flashed as he smiled and his eyes sparkled with fun. Looking at him then the could not understand how he came to be one of the Council of Patriarchs. Their general impression had been of a group of exceedingly venerable and wise old men, without a spark of initiative amongst them. Anu Rama was what their own civilisation would have described as a “live wire”.
“The Council have decided that you have learned enough to make your acquaintance with our people and the world as it is today. You are free to come and go as you wish, subject to a few conditions,, of course.
“These are that you will continue to use your rooms here as your homes for the time being, and that you hold yourselves in readiness to come before the Council whenever it request you to do so. Your future is not yet decide, since your place in our world will become apparent when we have had a chance to see in which directions your abilities lie.”
James Thursfield was the first to answer. He greatly desired to know this man better. “I shall be pleased to make the acquaintance of yourself, sir,” he said in his blunt, direct way. “It would be interesting to learn of your system of government and so many other things.”
Recognising a mind as inquiring as his own, the other readily accepted his challenge. “If you care to dine with me this evening,” he suggested eagerly, “we should not doubt learn much to our mutual advantage.”
The others felt no resentment at not having been included in the invitation. They were eager to see the new world for themselves.
Chapter 9
Immediately after their midday meal, they departed to make use of their new-found freedom. They separated into pairs—Arnot and Kenton, the doctor and Wormald. Arnot was just departing, when he
caught sight of Dunstable, who was hurrying off on his own. He called out to him to join them, but received only a cheery wave of a hand as an answer.
Bruce and Thane explored the streets on foot, feeling as though they had stepped into the past, instead of into the future. The housed had their own neat gardens, such a contrast to the immense skyscrapers and planned communal gardens of their own day. Then, all vacant land had been collectively and intensively farmed with geometric orderliness. It had been vitally necessary, in order to support an enormous population but in such a setting, all appreciation of natural beauty had disappeared, and extreme functionalism in design had become an end in itself instead of a means to better living.
Now they were back again in the days of higgledy-piggledy beauty—and pride of ownership. It was James Thursfield who discovered that most of the people owned the houses they lived in. It was the natural right of every man when he came of age to marry, to be allotted a small house—which he paid for gradually by having a proportion of his wages set aside for the purpose. If, as time went on, he wanted a larger house, or one of more individual design, there were plenty to be bought; alternatively, he could have one specially built.
Such a state of affairs seemed almost incomprehensible to Thane and his companions, who had lived in a world where everything was owned by the state. In such an over-crowded world, hardly anything else had been possible; or so it seemed to them, their having never before experienced any other form of society. It had ensured accommodation for all, and eliminated actual want. However, the pride and sureness in the bearing of these people, even those engaged in the most humble task, was something they had never seen in their own day.
They had changed their clothes for some of those worn at the time, and found the fabric every bit as good as their own—proof against heat and cold, wind and rain. They attracted no attention as they mingled with the people.
Bruce suddenly became aware of a need that had been denied far too long. He found a surge of excitement enter him as he saw a beautiful girl enter what appeared to be a restaurant. He tugged at Thane’s arm.
“Did you see her? That’s some female,” he sighed.
“Come on, it won’t do to try your line on the girls here.” Thane felt as though he was in a strange place, although he had probably walked over this very ground in the days when it was known as London. They had discovered, in the course of their lectures, that it was still the most important place in England, chiefly because it had been the centre of the tube system that had eventually covered the country; and it was still the most accessible spot in the land
Of the old London, nothing remained except a few ruins, which were ever being discovered and greeted with delight by archaeologists. The new city of Ranmor was much smaller; and it contained a mixture of building from public ones of noble, classic proportions to small dwelling houses.
Thane contrasted the pleasant little cottages with the grim blocks of buildings towering to the sky that had been part of his life. Remembering his old home, he had a desire to try and trace the spot on which it had stood. It seemed so long ago now, and yet, in his life, discounting the time spent asleep, it was only a year go since he had said goodbye to his parents. He wondered how life had treated them and how they had died. He was glad they were dead by the time the terrible catastrophe hit the world.
Bruce was still nudging him, trying to turn him in the direction of the café. Finally he followed him in. Inside, the food had not changed much.
Bruce led the way to a table near the one the girl had taken. It was rather early for the evening meal and a few people were present. They ordered another of the wonderful meals they still could not liken to previously known foods. Thane’s gaze wandered slowly over to the girl and he could see what had attracted Bruce. She was bolder-looking than most of the girls they had seen so far. Her Grecian style costume showed off a very shapely figure and her long braided hair was twisted round her head to form a frame for a very lovely face. Thane quietly compared her to the glamorous film stars of his own age. The women he had observed so far did not seem to follow the craving for glamour that had been part of the earlier sisters’ traits. They made the best of their natural good looks and left it at that.
He remarked on it to Bruce.
Bruce agreed. “She’s like something out of our world. In fact, the girl of my dreams. There must be some way to get to know her.”
“I shouldn’t think a little thing like that would trouble you,” grinned Thane.
“Yeah—but customs might be different now.” Bruce was now realising what Thane had tried to tell him earlier.
Another problem confronted them at the moment however, as they suddenly realised they had no money to pay the bill. Haltingly, still not having full command of the Klaatan language. Bruce tried to explain to the waiter. “We’re guests of the Council, and I suppose they’ll put matters right,” he finished up hopefully
For a brief moment, the waiter wondered if they belonged to one of the bands of Gabblers, who roamed in the more inaccessible places and refused to conform to an ordered way of living. He had heard rumours of the wildness of these people and their inability to communicate with their minds.
he did the most sensible thing and sent a message to the Council. Thane noticed that he did not seem to be concentrating on what they were saying. At that moment, all the waiter’s mental powers were concentrated on sending a telepathic message to one of the receivers at the General Hall. There were always at least twelve receivers on duty, whose superior telepathic powers fitted them for this task. While they were waiting for an answer Bruce’s ambition was realised.
“Can I help you?” the girl inquired softly.
Before Bruce could answer,the waiter relaxed. “That is all right—the Council will attend to the matter.” He walked off to attend to another customer, but the ice was broken. Bruce made the most of his chances.
“Our difficulties seem to have sorted themselves out, but you can still help us.” Encouraged by her smile he turned his chair round so as to face her. He was about to render a fairly truthful account of the events which had resulted in their presence, without money, in the restaurant, when he realised that, while the Council might believe and understand how they had crossed the bridge of time, few ordinary people would. Without the evidence of the space-ship it would have seemed incredible even to the Council; and, so far the facts had not been generally publicised, although rumours of all kinds must have circulated from those who had seen the ship arrive. He contented himself by explaining that they were strangers to the town.
“I suppose you haven’t time to show us round?” he asked eagerly.
“I should like to, but I have a fairly urgent appointment.” Her voice did not convey complete dismissal. Bruce pressed on… “How about tomorrow?”
“Yes, I think I can manage that. Will you meet me here at ten tomorrow morning?” She was very direct, and evidently did not believe in coy hesitation. “My name is Bruce Kenton and this is Thane Arnot.” Bruce took the hand she offered him, it was evidently still the custom to shake hands.
As they walked back. Thane was already determined that Bruce should go alone the next day. He did not want to be odd man out, and he rather thought he might try searching for the site of his old home. It worried him slightly that the girl had not tried to find out more about them before acceding to Bruce’s request, but he dismissed the matter as Bruce’s affair. Perhaps standards of conduct were sufficiently high for them to have complete trust in each other, and she had naturally accepted them at their face value
It was the beginning of the parting of the ways.
That evening, only four of them sat down to a meal together. James Thursfield was pursuing the ramifications of government organisation—or, rather, what seemed the lack of it—over a meal at Anu Rama’s house. He was charmed by Anu Rama’s wife and ten-year-old daughter. There was a son who was living away from home, having reached the age of independence, and being intent upon c
arving a career for himself. That, at least, was the opinion he formed at the time.
At first, he was amused, but, on subsequent visits, quite entranced, by their ability to make their own amusements. Although he had been wrapped up in his mathematics, the way in which his own generation had sought entertainment by watching television, artificially induced dreams, watching sport, in fact just watching instead of living, had not passed him by.
“How do you treat people who break your social code?” asked Thursfield, one evening.
“I detected two unspoken thoughts behind your words, my friend,” answered Rama. “Forgive me, I do not usually pry into inner meaning, but you absolutely hurled the thoughts at me before you finally put it into words and thought better suited to our civilisation. ‘Crime’ and ‘punishment’ which were in your thoughts, are not completely unknown to us. I’m afraid our world is not so completely Utopian as it seems to appear to you. You noticed that expression? I found your accounts of the various small communities, who tried to achieve this impossibly ideal state, most interesting. What a pity they lacked the ability to communicate with their minds; they might have succeeded where we may yet fail.”
“Surely crime doesn’t reach such fantastic proportions? We found it flourishing under poor conditions of society which seem t be entirely absent here.”
“Yore misunderstand me. Crime is no problem. We have a few people with warped and twisted minds; but, should they break our code of conduct, they can usually be detected by some unguarded thought, or merely by the curtain it becomes necessary to put over their thoughts. Once caught, their minds can be treated. There is no need for imprisonment or any other form of punishment.
“No— our problem is more complicated, and we lack the experience to deal with it. I think it might be described as ‘politics’—if I understand what your have been telling me about them. It is one of the subjects of the old world which we have been forbidden to study, lest it should corrupt our society.”
