Button in the Fabric of Time

by Dicksion, William Wayne

  “We’re trained from childhood to be clean and orderly. It’s an essential part of our society,” Jan-3 said.

  A few curious people glanced our way, but they didn’t seem concerned to see strangers.

  I remembered that Roc-2 had introduced Jan-3 as a historian. “As a historian, Jan-3, what part of the human history did you find most interesting?”

  “My specialty is history, but I’m also an anthropologist,” she replied. “I find all human history interesting, but the history that interests me most was the period that you came from, and the one hundred years that followed.”

  “What was especially interesting about that time?”

  “It was a time of rapid change. At that time, women, in some areas, gained a degree of independence, while in other areas they were still treated as the property of men. In the more educated parts of the world, people were becoming racially tolerant, but religiously, they were still intolerant. Populations were exploding, but there was no method yet to provide food, water, shelter, and clothing for the ever-increasing numbers. Your inner cities became slums, and crime was a way of life. Conditions for the underprivileged continued spiraling downward until, it seemed, that they had nothing left but despair. For me, reading about the indomitable human spirit of the oppressed as they fought back and started humanity on the road to recovery was inspirational. Because of them, we now live in a world in which we aspire to create a paradise on earth.”

  “That’s precisely what I came to learn. I think I have a basic understanding of how you build and maintain your cities—now I’d like to see how you’ve reclaimed the unproductive areas of the world and learned to live together.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 14

  “Where would you like to start?” Jan-3 asked.

  “I’ve seen what you did to the desert area around Los Angeles—I’d like to see how you reclaimed rural farming areas and made them productive. Could we start with where my family had its farm? I may still own the land.”

  “I don’t want to be the one to disappoint you, but you don’t own the land. Nobody owns land. The American Indians had it right—nobody should own the land, the sky, or the seas. Those belong to everyone, and it’s the responsibility of everyone to preserve and protect them. We are a part of the land; the land is a part of us. We can, however, go to the spot where your family farm existed. I would like to share that experience with you, and have you tell me what it was like when you were a boy growing up on that land.”

  As we were leaving the residential area, I asked, “May I dial for a keri? I want to learn how to do things on my own.”

  “Of course,” Jan-3 said. “There’s a dialing station where we stopped.”

  “I’d like a keri for two, with a view plate on the bottom, like the one we traveled in when we first arrived.”

  “Then select the number 2, and then select the symbol that looks like a star.”

  I did as she instructed, and in only seconds, a two-seater with a view plate appeared. Feeling pleased, I took Jan-3’s hand and we entered. “How do you drive this thing?” I asked.

  “You don’t,” she smiled. “You select where you want to go, and the keri will take you there. If you want to control the altitude and/or the speed, you activate the control by pressing that button. You can control the altitude and speed with the control lever. To go up, you pull it back; to descend, you push it forward. To increase speed, you rotate the control to the right; to reduce speed, you rotate it to the left. To stop, just center the controls.”

  “I can see that this is a complicated machine to operate,” I commented looking seriously at Jan-3.

  “It must have taken a long time for you to learn to be an engineer,” she laughed.

  “What if I change my mind about where I want to go while we are en route?”

  Pointing to the panel, she said, “Press that button and a map will appear; touch the map where you want to go, and the keri will take us there.”

  “I’d like to go sightseeing . . . can I do that?”

  Pointing to the dial, Jan-3 remarked, “Push the ‘Y’ symbol to disengage the automatic control, and then, by using the controls as I showed you, you can go anywhere you want. But be careful you don’t fly into a mountain or a tree.”

  I did as she suggested. It was like playing a computer game. I was maneuvering all over the place. Jan-3 seemed to be enjoying herself until I was down among the trees, and then she became concerned.

  “Those trees are not a part of the magnetic field,” she cautioned, “and there’s nothing to prevent you from crashing into one of them. Don’t forget our law, DO NO HARM. If we damage something, we’ll be held responsible.”

  Feeling like a speeding teenager, I said, “I never thought of that. I had forgotten the rule my parents taught to me. For everything you receive, there is something you must give.”

  With a hint of sadness in her eyes, Jan-3 replied, “In our attempt to establish a perfect society, we’ve had to give up some of our recklessness. I think that is what Roc-2 meant when he said you were the only one to volunteer to use the button to travel to the moon. He observed that perhaps we had lost some of our courage. I think you’ve brought us far more than the button. You’ve brought us something that we had lost. I can see by watching you that we’ve lost the wild sense of adventure. Thank you for bringing it back. Now help us relearn how to use it without destroying what we have achieved.”

  I understood completely what she was saying as we climbed to a higher altitude. I’d love to take this keri for a real spin. However, I’m going to have to learn to temper my recklessness a bit. “Thank you for preventing me from doing something foolish, Jan-3. Please tell me when I’m going beyond the bounds.”

  She took my arm and softly replied, “I like some of the ways you go beyond the bounds.”

  Wondering what she meant, but afraid to ask, I steered the keri in the direction of the family farm, trying to recognize some of the major landmarks. Since I had flown over this part of the U.S. in my light plane, I was familiar with the terrain.

  There was excitement in Jan-3’s eyes as she said, “This is wonderful. I’ve never flown over the countryside like this before. I’m eager to see your farm.” Then, with a look of concern she whispered, “I hope you realize that your family won’t be there. They’ve been dead for hundreds of years.”

  Her comment shocked me back to reality. In the excitement of discovery, I had forgotten the real reason I was here. I murmured quietly, “I wonder if I’ll be able to find their graves.” Again I became aware of the many changes; Land in the twenty-first century had been arid was now a lush gardens. The ground that had been barren then was now producing fruit, nuts, vegetables, and grains in abundance. Mountains that had been dry in the twenty first century were green now. Streams and lakes filled the valleys. The accomplishments of the people of the thirty first century were beyond my wildest imaginings.

  I pointed to the landmarks that I knew, and told Jan-3 stories of the hardship the earliest settlers had endured to cross this seemingly godless land. I pointed to Death Valley and told her the origin of its name.

  She was fascinated. “These are the stories I had hoped you would tell me. I’ve read about them in history books, but it isn’t the same as hearing it from someone who knows. I’m sorry if the telling brings you sadness. I wonder—and you must wonder also—what happened to the brave people who faced those dangers so that we might have this wonderful life. It saddens me that they cannot see the results of their having suffered so much.”

  “I think that in time they will,” I said. “This was certainly no paradise in their time. It took people of your time to make it a paradise, and it will take future generations to make the resurrection mentioned in the Christian Bible a possibility. I think that when knowledge advances enough, something like a resurrection will become a reality.”

  Her interest piqued, Jan-3 asked, “How do you think that might come about?”

  I r
ealized that an explanation was way over my head, and also realized that should I fail to explain, Jan-3 would think that she was in the company of a funny-bunny. Since there was no way to avoid her question, I thought, I’ll give it a try.

  “In my house, I have a photograph of my great-grandparents. The camera captured a brief moment in their lives. By looking at that photograph, I can see what they looked like on their wedding day. My great-grandparents grew old and died, but in that photograph, they stayed young. In that brief moment, they attained a form of immortality.

  “Later, machines were developed that allowed the pictures to be shown in series, making the subjects appear to move. Then someone invented a way to add color, and then sound to the moving pictures. The descendants of the people in the pictures could now hear the voices, watch the movements, see the expressions, and experience the emotions of their great-grandparents. Humankind took one more step toward immortality.

  “We know that time is a dimension, and that humans can travel in time,” I continued. “Perhaps someday, someone will invent a camera-like device that will enable the operator to travel back in time and capture a brief moment in the life of a person who has lived and died. That person could be brought forward to this time, go through your purifier, and attain a form of immortality. Who knows what might be possible in another few hundred years?”

  “That is an interesting thought,” Jan-3 nodded. “I’ll take you to see one of our—what you call—movies. The stories are displayed three dimensionally. The actors are like players on a stage. The viewer feels as though he or she is actually a part of the scene and, at times, the audience actually gets involved in the conflicts.”

  “How do you control the audience?”

  “We turn off the projectors, the audience regains its composure, and sanity is restored.”

  “I’ll look forward to experiencing that,” I told her.

  “I only told you about our three dimensional display to illustrate how far movies have advanced. It serves to make your thinking about resurrection more plausible. We have explored some of the closer planetary systems with instruments, and we have found other planets that might eventually be habitable by humans. But so far, we’ve found nothing close enough to Earth that would enable us to encourage earthlings to migrate.”

  “Have you found distant planets with your telescopes that are habitable?”

  “Yes, many,” Jan-3 replied, “but it would take so long to get there that no one is willing to invest that much time. With your time-travel device, it would be possible to reach them. If we could get to the planets in distant solar systems, it would open up the entire universe, which is so vast that we do not have the capacity to conceive its entirety. That is one of the reasons some of us believe in God. . . . Do you believe in God?”

  “Now, that’s a loaded question,” I responded.

  “I know it is,” she said slowly, “but still, I would like to hear your answer. If you consider it too personal, I’ll understand.”

  “I don’t feel the question is an invasion of my privacy, but I’m not sure that I can answer you with complete candor. I don’t have sufficient evidence to support a belief in God. I use the word believe with caution. I take nothing on faith. If there is evidence to support an idea, I examine it. If the evidence supports the contention, then I am inclined to accept it. I do, however, accept the proposition that for every effect there is a cause. The universe exists; therefore, the universe was caused. As you stated, the universe is vast beyond comprehension. A power great enough to create a universe beyond comprehension, is beyond comprehension. If we can’t comprehend God, then how can we describe God? The word “God” implies an entity, but I fail to understand how an entity could exist as an original cause without being the product of a cause.”

  I went on. “Evidence supports the proposition that the universe is comprised of time, space, and energy. Energy is then the substance of the universe. If it is proposed that energy is God or that God is energy, I could not present a credible argument repudiating that proposition. If there is no God, there should be. And I, like many others, hope there is. If that explanation falls short of answering your question, then I’m sorry, but that’s the best I can do.”

  “Thank you. I like your answer because it shows that you have given the question a lot of thought. Are you a member of a religious organization?”

  “I’m not a member of an organized religious group, but I probably share the views of many people who have given the question reasoned thought. I don’t think that God, if there is one, takes sides in human squabbles, and I don’t agree with some that their God is being threatened. Their religious concepts are being questioned, but I don’t think that that threatens their God.”

  * * * * *

  Chapter 15

  The Rocky Mountains were passing below our keri and we were proceeding out over the Great Plains. In the twentieth century, wind and rain had depleted the soil until it yielded only minimal crops, but now the land was producing vast fields of grain.

  “Is that grain growing in a prepared medium?” I asked.

  “No, it’s growing in the soil.”

  “I can see you are irrigating the land, but irrigation alone wouldn’t do it—that soil was depleted of nourishment. The water being used to irrigate the land looks muddy. Don’t you use purified water for irrigation?”

  “The water looks muddy, because it is muddy. We are rebuilding the land with the soil that eroded away, by turning the Mississippi River delta into slurry of mud and water, then pumping the mud back onto the land. That way, we rebuild the land at the same time we irrigate it.”

  “That is a novel idea. It must take a lot of power.”

  “It does. If you look closely, you’ll see solar collectors interspersed with the grain. That’s where we get the power to replenish the land. Removing the eroded soil from the river delta improves both the river and the land. The water and the replenished soil make it possible to grow vegetation. The vegetation prevents the land from eroding, and now the river runs clean again. And in fact, the clean, unpolluted river makes it possible for edible fish to thrive.”

  “I can see that the water in the tributary rivers is beautifully clear also, but much of this land was contaminated by salt and gypsum. How did you eliminate those contaminants?”

  ‘We dissolved the contaminating salts in chemically treated water, then evaporated the water and harvested the salts.”

  “In the twentieth century,” I remarked, “there were only a few trees near the streams, but now, I see many trees and what look like parks with camping areas that seem to have riding and hiking trails.”

  “Those are recreational areas. People need to get away from the cities occasionally and get back to nature. Some spend weeks here each year.”

  “We are getting close to the place where our farm was located, but I’m not sure I’ll recognize the spot because things have changed so much. I remember the flow of the streams; perhaps that will help me to find the farm by noting the positions of the small streams.”

  I maneuvered the keri looking for landmarks. The town Stoville was gone and crops were growing where the town had been. Lakes were no longer needed. Dams on the streams had been demolished and the lakes drained. Finding something recognizable was difficult.

  “If you’ll tell me what to look for, maybe I can help,” Jan-3 said.

  “Our farm was at the fork of two creeks. The creeks flowed southeast and emptied into a larger river a few miles away. Grandfather said the streams were beautiful when he was a boy, but the farmers had dammed and diverted the water until they no longer flowed clean. Now that you have removed the dams and allowed the streams to flow freely, they should be beautiful again, and I’ll get to see them the way my grandfather saw them. I wish he could be here to see them again.”

  Jan-3 was pleased to share the experience of seeing the land of my childhood. She pointed ahead and said, “There! Two streams join and run into a larger stream a few m
iles southeast.”

  “Yes! That could be the place. I’ll slow down and fly lower so we can examine the area more closely.” It was difficult to recognize anything because the land had been intensely planted. Our house and barn had sat on a knoll. The knoll was still there, but the buildings were gone. We flew around and around, but nothing indicated that there had ever been a home on the knoll.

  “The family burial plot had been across the creeks in an elevated area. I wonder if it’s still there.”

  “It should be,” Jan-3 said. “All burial sites were recorded and maintained.”

  “Could we land and take a look?”

  “The keris are designed to operate from designated areas only; there should be a transport station nearby. They’re never more than a short walk away. We could walk from the station to the burial plot—it would be good to stretch our legs a bit.”

  “How do I find the station?”

  “Press that blue button," Jan-3 said, "and a station will show up on your map.”

  The station was only a short distance from where the house used to sit. We landed and began walking. I had seen children who, by running, jumping and laughing, expressed what I was feeling. At age 32, I had almost forgotten that joyous exuberance. Now I understood what Roc-2 said when he told me that after my body had rejuvenated its cells, I would have so much stamina, it would surprise me.

  I was truly experiencing the wonder and excitement of being alive, and understood the origin of Jan-3’s radiant glow. Although she was walking ahead of me, I could somehow tell that she felt the same as I did. I ran up to her, took her in my arms, and felt a surge of electricity flow between us. She snuggled into my arms; we clung to one another enjoying the moment, and I realized that no man is complete without a woman.