by Nancy Lieder
Several humans walk out, Jonah in the lead, extending his hand. Ian hesitates
only a moment, then himself walks forward with an extended hand. The group
following Ian noticeably pick up their pace, seeing a friendly welcome.
Just inside the dome city entrance, the newcomers are gawking at the raised
but diffusely lit ceiling and lush vegetation growing in the center of the
dome, where there is a fountain and grassy areas with children at play. The
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dome has housing units in a circle around the edge, several stories high, as
the dome drops down into the ground as well as rising up above the ground.
Tammy breaks the silence as she has been discovered by another little girl her
age. Tammy is clutching her rag doll, which by now is so dirty and tattered
that it almost looks like a black rag. The little girl welcoming her has a
clean cloth doll, similar in size and dress, and hands this to Tammy with a
smile. Tammy blinks, a hint of tears forming in her eyes at the kindness and
understanding shown her, and smiles slightly. She hands the other girl her
tattered doll, and they make an exchange, laugh spontaneously afterwards at
the silliness of Tammy's gift, and run off together, the dome city girl in the
lead. Not a word has been spoken between the girls during this exchange.
Billy is right behind Tammy, and has watched this. He raises his face to his
mother Martha, standing behind him, sharing with her an unspoken understanding
that this is a good place. Ian is standing at the side, in intense
conversation with Jonah, but we don't hear their conversation. They have
stepped to the side as the rest of the group is crowding the entryway as they
enter the dome and react. Madge, the fat cook, comes in and stands stock
still, her perpetual frown refusing to be displaced on her face. Frank is
just behind her, raising his arms up with an ecstatic look on his face,
mouthing things we can't hear but what we are sure are comparisons to Atlantis
or other mythological cities.
_______________________________
It is very early dawn in the dome city, which has lighting controlled by
lights affixed along the dome wall on the upper pram level. These produce
intense carbon arc light, the equivalent of sunlight, and shine it on the dome
ceiling. This light does not go directly into the faces of anyone, due to a
long cone over the arc light itself, pointing upward. The cone is several feet
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long, wider as it fans toward the ceiling. The cones are painted the same
color as the dome ceiling, sky blue.
A man is walking along the upper pram, toolbox and stepladder in hand. He goes
from light to light, doing maintenance. Standing on the stepladder he turns a
switch alongside one of the lights and it turns off. Using a special tool he
quickly turns hooks up and down the cone shaped funnel so as to remove the
funnel. The tool is an odd, unique shape so that children can’t accidentally
remove the cones. The carbon points are exposed, and he adjusts each to move
more toward the center, toward each other, then measures the gap. Satisfied,
he drops his gap measure back into this pocket and reaches for the cone again,
ready to reassemble.
Sheep are grazing on the dome city lawn, in one section. A portable wooden
fence can be seen in the background, keeping the sheep in one section at a
time. The dome city does not use lawn mowers, as sheep crop a grassland close
to the ground. They can also ruin a grassland if allowed to graze too long,
reducing the grass to stubble.
A worker is seen folding the portable wooden fence like an accordion, and
walking across some lush grass to the edge of the next section. He quickly
unfolds the fence, used more as a guide for the sheep than a containment, at
the edge of the next section. He strides back, turns sharply when he reaches
the end of the small herd, and starts herding the sheep into the lush area,
talking softly to them.
Hik . . Common . . Soosh . .
Along the edge of the wall circling the garden areas there are occasional
doors to rooms where hydroponic gardens and other food production efforts are
contained. The walls are colored the same as the upper residential area walls,
so look at first glance like foundation walls, integral to the city itself. A
door swings open. The label on the door reads “Compost Consolidation”. As the
door swings back shut we see that a man pushing a heavily loaded wheelbarrow
has emerged. His load is rich, loamy earth swarming with earthworms. He has a
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pitchfork stuck into the load. He quickly pushes the barrow across the lawn
toward some grape vines on an arbor toward the center of the dome city
gardens.
As he crosses the lawn, a flock of banty hens and roosters come dashing toward
him, some flying, some running. They know this routine. Some hop into the
barrow, not waiting for their treat. The worker does not break his stride, as
all morning tasks such as this are to be complete before the residents awake.
He strides up to the grape vines and tips his barrow forward onto the roots of
the grape plants. The eager banty hens cover the pile, cleaning up the worms,
and scratching furiously for worms within the compost.
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-Helping Hands-
The evening meal is in process in the dome city. The roof of the top layer of
residences, the upper concourse, is a general pram area where exercise and
community activities take place. Tonight, due to the newcomers, a special
dinner is laid out, buffet style. Children run along the roof and down the
stairs on ramps that periodically descend to the center, chasing each other
and playing games. A home-town band is playing some music, a banjo and violin
and snare drum in an odd combination, along with a few singers who are
remarkably good given the circumstances. Some couples are dancing along with
the music, in front of where the band has congregated.
Jonah and Ian and Colonel Cage, seated at a table, holding and sipping from
their cups and chatting. Ian and Colonel Cage are trying to adjust to this
new measure of plenty and security. Ian is anxiously asking about security,
whether they have had any raids or intrusions. Jonah answers, in a matter-of-
fact manner.
We're protected
This brings a frown to Ian's forehead. Have they walked into the enemy camp,
by mistake? After hesitating for a minute, he blurts out a question.
Protected by who?
Colonel Cage has been watching the conversation, his eyes flicking from one to
the other, growing calmer as something momentous is about to emerge, his
military background coming to the fore. Jonah says,
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We're not alone, haven't been, but now they can come
forward more.
Ian has a blank, uncomprehending, look on his face. Jonah says,
You know, the space people, they're here, and they
helped us build this. Oh, you won't see much of them
if at all, but they're always around, and we've got
some special children to prove it.
Ian's eyes widen, staring at Jonah's face. What next?
Come on, I'l
l show you.
_______________________________
Jonah has taken Ian and Colonel Cage to the gardens in the center of the dome
city, where the children play. Jonah is sitting on one of the benches there,
speaking warmly and quietly to some children standing in front of him, as
though he frequently does this, is familiar to them, and has a good rapport
with them. They have large frontal lobes and delicate chins, larger than
normal eyes, and listen more than they speak. They seem to anticipate each
other's movements, stepping back in sync with a step forward by another and
the like. The din of children's voices can be heard in the background. Jonah
says,
.. planning to have an art fair, a craft fair, on the
concourse soon, right?
The hybrid child in the center responds to something other than what Jonah has
been saying, responding to his thoughts, not his words.
They'll adjust quickly because they've been living
like us already. You'll see, there won't be any
adjustment at all.
Colonel Cage leans forward to ask a question.
How do you know?
The child looks calmly at him.
You're right to be worried, they need you. They don't
know how to find you, don't know where you are.
There is a silence, but finally Colonel Cage responds, an obvious knot in his
throat.
They're in trouble? The Army had facilities! They
said . . they told us that . . that ..
_______________________________
Outside the dome city entrance, Colonel Cage is taking his leave, saying good-
by to Jonah. They stand in front of the dome entry, at the end of the long
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igloo style tunnel that acts as a weather shield before the sliding doors at
the edge of the dome itself.
I've got to try, even if I die trying. I have no idea
if these maps are any good anymore, it's 200 miles
away as the crow flies, and God knows if I'll make it
or what I'll find.
Colonel Cage is traveling light, holding a black cloth satchel that he slings
over his shoulder as he turns and walks into the woods.
A tall gray Zeta comes forward into view, moving up to be shoulder to shoulder
with Jonah. Jonah is still watching the Colonel disappear into the woods.
He's going to need help.
The Zeta puts his hand momentarily on Jonah's shoulder, then heads off after
Colonel Cage.
_______________________________
Colonel Cage is walking along the outskirts of what used to be a mid-sized
city. He is traveling at night, for safety, his body standing out briefly in
profile against a flaming pile of trash that someone has pulled together and
lit. Broken boards stick up now and then, hazards, and tumbled down cement
blocks litter the streets as he picks his way though the rubble. There are
shouts in the distance, and what sound like hysterical laughter now and then.
_______________________________
Past the city now, and traveling by day, Colonel Cage is standing at the edge
of a rip in the earth. Foot hills leading down into a river valley have been
torn apart, bare earth exposed in stark contrast to the trees or fields on
either side. He stands gazing over the scene, a slight frown on this face,
and then reaches into his back pocket for a map, which he flips through,
looking increasingly puzzled. He finally shakes his head and mutters under
his breath.
If that's the river, then I made 150 miles in one day!
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He returns the map to his back pocket, leans down for his satchel, and strides
off down along the edge of the rip toward the river.
_______________________________
It is night time, the rain pouring steadily, drenching everything. It is so
dark, with only an occasional dim edge outlined in the dark, that it takes a
minute for us to see Colonel Cage's features as he stands in the rain. Peering
through the dark, Colonel Cage must squint for several minutes to see an
occasional outline in the dark. Progress has been slow, along the last leg of
his journey, but he is recognizing landmarks, so very near home at last. He
is still, staring into the broken windows of what used to be his house.
Nothing moves, and there are no lights or sounds. He hears a young boy's voice
behind him.
Dad?
Colonel Cage turns so rapidly he is almost a blur, as he sweeps the boy into
his arms. After a long silent bear hug, during which the two of them seem
unable to let go of each other, the Colonel sets the boy down, his voice
husky.
Where's your mother and John?
The boy says,
They're all right, come on.
Excitement and eagerness are in his voice as he takes his dad by the hand.
They stumble off into the dark, Colonel Cage stumbling after his young son,
both walking too fast for the circumstances, but too eager to get where
they're going to care.
_______________________________
Next day the four-some are walking cautiously along a tree bank. All are
dressed in dull clothing that blends in with the soggy dark green and mustard
yellow of the vegetation, and when out in the open crouch down and scuttle
across the open space, so as not to attract attention from anyone who might be
looking. Colonel Cage is visibly nervous, but is not sharing with his family
the reasons for his fear. They hear voices, and he signals all to drop to the
ground and not make a sound. The Colonel's face is pale and he is trembling,
showing his extreme fear that his family will be tortured and killed, as he
has seen done to others. He has his youngest, John, beside him, and has his
hand over his mouth, is signaling his wife and oldest son with his eyes as to
the seriousness of the situation.
A group of men is passing, talking and arguing among themselves. A voice
rings out almost on top of where the family is crouched, joining in the
conversation without missing a beat. The terrified family hears a zipper
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unzip, then someone pissing, then hear the sound of a fly being re-zipped. The
one who just relieved himself walks right past the youngest boy as though not
seeing him, rejoining the others. The other looks his way also, and seems not
to see the family, plastered against the ground right between them, holding
their breath.
As they walk on they are watched by a tall Zeta standing next to a tree, his
arms folded across his chest. The family remains still until no voices can be
heard. Colonel Cage lifts his head slightly and casts his eyes all around, and
seeing nothing, warns in a whisper.
Follow me, but as quiet as you can.
He moves slowly so as not to snap a twig, picking up speed only when they get
to a grassy area along a creek where the sound of running water covers the
swishing of their legs against the grass.
When Colonel Cage can look in all directions and see the coast is clear, he
breaths a sigh of relieve.
I don't know why they didn't see us. They were right
on top of us, the oddest thing.
He's shaking his head, a slight frown on his head, but a realization dawn
s on
him as he puts together the fast trip he's had and this incident. He mutters
to himself.
It's them.
His oldest son is looking at him with a puzzled look, but gets no explanation.
_______________________________
A patch of cat tails is in a marshy area abutting a stream. There are woods in
the backdrop. The cat tails are several feet thick, growing where the water is
only a foot or less deep, their brown seed pods not yet mature so the seeds
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have not yet been released. One of the pod stalks starts wigging back and
forth, and then drops straight down.
A frog is sitting on a rock amidst the cattail patch. A sharpened stick comes
zinging out from the cattail patch, toward the side of the frog. The frog
croaks.
_______________________________
The pot has a lid on it and is jiggling as the water inside is boiling
furiously. A frog leg can be seen sticking out of the pot, the foot and part
of the leg visible. A cattail leaf is also sticking out, plastered against the
side of the small pot.
I know it’s tough. Eat as much of it as you can.
The family is squatting around the boiling pot, the youngest son looking
unconvinced. They are very dirty from days on the road without baths or clean
clothes. Colonel Cage’s wife’s hair is tangled with small sticks caught in the
tangle here and there. She is smiling at her husband with unabashed
admiration.
We’re going to be taking the leftovers with us, so
don’t expect anything better for awhile. This will
keep you going.
