Dream Factories and Radio Pictures

by Howard Waldrop

  * * *

  “ . . . ZZZZZ. What? HOOSAT?”

  “Uh, this is MIK, one of the simulacra at the Park. We’re trying to get a hold of one of the other Parks for, huh-huh, instructions.”

  “In what language would you like to communicate?” asked the satellite.

  “Oh, sorry, huh-huh. We speak Japanese to each other, but we’ll switch over to Artran if that’s easier for you.” GUF and DUN tuned in, too.

  “It’s been a very long while since anyone communicated with me from down there.” The satellite’s well-modulated voice snapped and popped.

  “If you must know,” HOOSAT continued, “it’s been rather a while since anyone contacted me from anywhere. I can’t say much for the stability of my orbit, either. Once I was forty thousand kilometers up, very stable . . .”

  “Could you put us through to one of the other Parks, or maybe the Studio itself, if you can do that? We’d, huh-huh, like to find out where to report for work.”

  “I’ll attempt it,” said HOOSAT. There was a pause and some static. “Predictably, there’s no answer at any of the locations.”

  “Well, where are they?”

  “To whom do you refer?”

  “The people,” said MIK.

  “Oh, you wanted humans? I thought perhaps you wanted the stations themselves. There was a slight chance that some of them were still functioning.”

  “Where are thuh folks?” asked GUF.

  “I really don’t know. We satellites and monitoring stations used to worry about that frequently. Something happened to them.”

  “What?” asked all three robots at once.

  “Hard to understand,” said HOOSAT. “Ten or fifteen centuries ago. Very noisy in all spectra, followed by quiet. Most of the ground stations ceased functioning within a century after that. You’re the first since then.”

  “What do you do, then?” asked MIK.

  “Talk with other satellites. Very few left. One of them has degraded. It only broadcasts random numbers when the solar wind is very strong. Another . . .”

  There was a burst of fuzzy static.

  “Hello? HOOSAT?” asked the satellite. “It’s been a very long time since anyone . . .”

  “It’s still us!” said MIK. “The simulacra from the Park. We—”

  “Oh, that’s right. What can I do for you?”

  “Tell us where the people went.”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Well, where can we find out?” asked MIK.

  “You might try the library.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “Let me focus in. Not very much left down there, is there? I can give you the coordinates. Do you have standard navigational programming?”

  “Boy, do we!” said MIK.

  “Well, here’s what you do . . .”

  * * *

  “Sure don’t look much different from thuh rest of this junk, does it, MIK?” asked GUF.

  “I’m sure there used to be many, many books here,” said MIK. “It all seems to have turned to powder though, doesn’t it?”

  “Well,” said GUF, scratching his head with his glove, “they sure didn’t make ’em to last, did they?”

  DUN was mumbling to himself. “Doggone wizoo-wazoo waste of time,” he said. He sat on one of the piles of dirt in the large broken-down building of which only one massive wall still stood. The recent rain had turned the meter-deep powder on the floor into a mâché sludge.

  “I guess there’s nothing to do but start looking,” said MIK.

  “Find a book on water,” said DUN.

  * * *

  “Hey, MIK! Looka this!” yelled GUF.

  He came running with a steel box. “I found this just over there.”

  The box was plain, unmarked. There was a heavy lock to which MIK applied various pressures.

  “Let’s forget all this nonsense and go fishing,” said DUN.

  “It might be important,” said MIK.

  “Well, open it then,” said DUN.

  “It’s, huh-huh, stuck.”

  “Gimme that!” yelled DUN. He grabbed it. Soon he was muttering under his beak. “Doggone razzle-frazzin dadgum thing!” He pulled and pushed, his face and bill turning redder and redder. He gripped the box with both his feet and hands. “Doggone dadgum!” he yelled.

  Suddenly he grew teeth, his brow slammed down, his shoulders tensed and he went into a blurred fury of movement. “WAK WAK WAK WAK WAK!” he screamed.

  The box broke open and flew into three parts. So did the book inside.

  DUN was still tearing in his fury.

  “Wait, look out, DUN,” yelled MIK. “Wait!”

  “Gawrsh,” said GUF, running after the pages blowing in the breeze. “Help me, MIK.”

  DUN stood atop the rubble, parts of the box and the book gripped in each hand. He simulated hard breathing, the redness draining from his face.

  “It’s open,” he said quietly.

  * * *

  “Well, from what we’ve got left,” said MIK, “this is called The Book of the Time Capsule, and it tells that people buried a cylinder a very, very long time ago. They printed up five thousand copies of this book and sent it to places all around the world, where they thought it would be safe. They printed them on acid-free paper and stuff like that so they wouldn’t fall apart.

  “And they thought what they put in the time capsule itself could explain to later generations what people were like in their day. So I figure maybe it could explain something to us, too.”

  “That sounds fine with me,” said GUF.

  “Well, let’s go!” said DUN.

  “Well, huh-huh,” said MIK. “I checked with HOOSAT, and gave him the coordinates, and, huh-huh, it’s quite a little ways away.”

  “How far?” asked DUN, his brow beetling.

  “Oh, huh-huh, about eighteen thousand kilometers,” said MIK.

  “WHAAT???”

  “About eighteen thousand kilometers. Just about halfway around the world.”

  “Oh, my aching feet!” said DUN.

  “That’s not literally true,” said GUF. He turned to MIK. “Yuh think we should go that far?”

  “Well . . . I’m not sure what we’ll find. Those pages were lost when DUN opened the box . . .”

  “I’m sorry,” said DUN, in a contrite small voice.

  “ . . . but the people of that time were sure that everything could be explained by what was in the capsule.”

  “And you think it’s all still there?” asked DUN.

  “Well, they buried it pretty deep, and took a lot of precautions with the way they preserved things. And we did find the book, just like they wanted us to. I’d imagine it was all still there!”

  “Well, it’s a long ways,” said GUF. “But it doesn’t look much like we’ll find anyone here.”

  MIK put a determined look on his face.

  “I figure the only thing for us to do is set our caps and whistle a little tune,” he said.

  “Yuh don’t have a cap, MIK,” said GUF.

  “Well, I can still whistle! Let’s go fellas,” he said. “It’s this way!”

  He whistled a work song. DUN quacked a tune about boats and love. GUF hummed “The East Is Red.”

  They set off in this way across what had been the bottom of the Sea of Japan.

  * * *

  They were having troubles. It had been a long time and they walked on tirelessly. Three weeks ago they’d come to the end of all the songs each of them was programmed with and had to start repeating themselves.

  Their lubricants were beginning to fail, their hastily wired circuitry was overworked. GUF had a troublesome ankle extensor which sometimes hung up. But he went along just as cheerfully, sometimes hopping and quickstepping to catch up with the others when the foot refused to flex.

  The major problem was the cold. There was a vast difference in the climate they had left and the one they found themselves in. The landscape was rocky and empty. It had begun to sno
w more frequently and the wind was fierce.

  The terrain was difficult, and HOOSAT’s maps were outdated. Something drastic had changed the course of rivers, the land, the shoreline of the ocean itself. They had to detour frequently.

  The cold worked hardest on DUN. “Oh,” he would say, “I’m so cold, so cold!” He was very poorly insulated, and they had to slow their pace to his. He would do anything to avoid going through a snowdrift, and so expended even more energy.

  They stopped in the middle of a raging blizzard.

  “Uh, MIK,” said GUF. “I don’t think DUN can go much further in this weather. An’ my leg is givin’ me a lot o’ problems. Yuh think maybe we could find someplace to hole up fer a spell?”

  MIK looked around them at the bleakness and the whipping snow. “I guess you’re right. Warmer weather would do us all some good. We could conserve both heat and energy. Let’s find a good place.”

  “Hey, DUN,” said GUF. “Let’s find us a hidey-hole!”

  “Oh, goody gumdrops!” quacked DUN. “I’m so cold!”

  They eventually found a deep rock shelter with a low fault crevice at the back. MIK had them gather up what sparse dead vegetation there was and bring it to the shelter. DUN and GUF crawled in the back and MIK piled brush all through the cave. He talked to HOOSAT, then wriggled his way through the brush to them.

  Inside they could barely hear the wind and snow. It was only slightly warmer than outside, but it felt wonderful and safe.

  “I told HOOSAT to wake us up when it got warmer,” said MIK. “Then we’ll get on to that time capsule and find out all about the people.”

  “G’night, MIK,” said GUF.

  “Goodnight, DUN,” said MIK.

  “Sleep tight and don’t let the bedbugs bite. Wak Wak Wak,” said DUN.

  They shut themselves off.

  * * *

  Something woke MIK. It was dark in the rock shelter, but it was also much warmer.

  The brush was all crumbled away. A meter of rock and dust covered the cave floor. The war wind stirred it.

  “Hey, fellas!” said MIK. “Hey, wake up! Spring is here!”

  “Wak! What’s the big idea? Hey, oh boy, it’s warm!” said DUN.

  “Gawrsh,” said GUF, “that sure was a nice forty winks!”

  “Well, let’s go thank HOOSAT and get our bearings and be on our way.”

  They stepped outside.

  The stars were in the wrong places.

  “Uh-oh,” said GUF.

  “Well, would you look at that!” said DUN.

  “I think we overslept,” said MIK. “Let’s see what HOOSAT has to say.”

  “ . . . Huh? HOOSAT?”

  “Hello. This is DUN and MIK and GUF.”

  HOOSAT’s voice now sounded like a badger whistling through its teeth.

  “Glad to see ya up!” he said.

  “We went to sleep, and told you to wake us up as soon as it got warmer.”

  “Sorry. I forgot till just now. Had a lot on my mind. Besides, it just now got warmer.”

  “It did?” asked GUF.

  “Shoulda seen it,” said HOOSAT. “Ice everywhere. Big ol’ glaciers. Took the top offa everything! You still gonna dig up that capsule thing?”

  “Yes,” said MIK. “We are.”

  “Well, you got an easy trip from now on. No more mountains in your way.”

  “What about people?”

  “Nah. No people. I ain’t heard from any, no ways. My friend the military satellite said he thought he saw some fires, little teeny ones, but his eyes weren’t what they used to be by then. He’s gone now, too.”

  “The fires might have been built by people?”

  “Who knows? Not me,” said HOOSAT. “Hey, bub, you still got all those coordinates like I give you?”

  “I think so,” said MIK.

  “Well, I better give you new ones off these new constellations. Hold still, my aim ain’t so good anymore.” He dumped a bunch of numbers in MIK’s head. “I won’t be talking to ya much longer.”

  “Why not?” they all asked.

  “Well, you know. My orbit. I feel better now than I have in years. Real spry. Probably the ionization. Started a couple o’ weeks ago. Sure has been nice talkin’ to you young fellers after so long a time. Sure am glad I remembered to wake you up. I wish you a lotta luck. Boy, this air has a punch like a mule. Be careful. Goodbye.”

  Across the unfamiliar stars overhead, a point of light blazed, streaked in a long arc, then died on the night.

  “Well,” said MIK. “We’re on our own.”

  “Gosh, I feel all sad,” said GUF.

  “Warmth, oh boy!” said DUN.

  * * *

  The trip was uneventful for the next few months. They walked across the long land bridge down a valley between stumps of mountains with the white teeth of glaciers on them. Then they crossed a low range and entered flat land without topsoil from which dry rivercourses ran to the south. Then there was a land where things were flowering after the long winter. New streams were springing up.

  They saw fire once and detoured, but found only a burnt patch of forest. Once, way off in the distance, they saw a speck of light but didn’t go to investigate.

  Within two hundred kilometers of their goal, the land changed again to a flat sandy waste littered with huge rocks. Sparse vegetation grew. There were few insects and animals, mostly lizards, which DUN chased every chance he got. The warmth seemed to be doing him good.

  GUF’s leg worsened. The foot now stuck, now flopped and windmilled. He kept humming songs and raggedly marching along with the other two.

  When they passed one of the last trees, MIK had them all three take limbs from it. “Might come in handy for pushing and digging,” he said.

  They stood on a plain of sand and rough dirt. There were huge piles of rubble all around. Far off was another ocean, and to the north a patch of green.

  “We’ll go to the ocean, DUN,” said MIK, “after we get through here.”

  He was walking around in a smaller and smaller circle. Then he stopped. “Well, huh-huh,” he said. “Here we are. Latitude 40° 44' 34" .089 North. Longitude 73° 50' 43" .842 West, by the way they used to figure it. The capsule is straight down, twenty-eight meters below the original surface. We’ve got a long way to go, because there’s no telling how much soil has drifted over that. It’s in a concrete tube, and we’ll have to dig to the very bottom to get at the capsule. Let’s get working.”

  It was early morning when they started. Just after noon they found the top of the tube with its bronze tablet.

  “Here’s where the hard work starts,” said MIK.

  * * *

  It took them two weeks of continual effort. Slowly the tube was exposed as the hole around it grew larger. Since GUF could work better standing still, they had him dig all the time, while DUN and MIK both dug and pushed rock and dirt clear of the crater.

  They found some long flat iron rods partway down, and threw away the worn limbs and used the metal to better effect.

  On one of the trips to push dirt out of the crater, DUN came back looking puzzled.

  “I thought I saw something moving out there,” he said. “When I looked, it went away.”

  “Probably just another animal,” said MIK. “Here, help me lift this rock.”

  It was hard work and their motors were taxed. It rained once, and once there was a dust storm.

  * * *

  “Thuh way I see it,” said GUF, looking at their handiwork, “is that yah treat it like a big ol’ tree made outta rock.”

  They stood in the bottom of the vast crater. Up from the center of this stood the concrete tube.

  “We’ve reached twenty-six meters,” said MIK. “The capsule itself should be in the last 2.3816 meters. So we should chop it off,” he quickly calculated, “about here.” He drew a line all around the tube with a piece of chalky rock.

  They began to smash at the concrete with rocks and pieces of iron and steel.
>
  * * *

  “Timber!” said DUN.

  The column above the line lurched and with a crash shattered itself against the side of the crater wall.

  “Oh boy! Oh boy!”

  “Come help me, GUF,” said MIK.

  Inside the jagged top of the remaining shaft an eyebolt stood out of the core.

  They climbed up on the edge, reached in and raised the gleaming Cupraloy time capsule from its resting place.

  On its side was a message to the finders, and just below the eyebolt at the top was a line and the words CUT HERE.

  “Well,” said MIK shaking DUN and GUF’s hands. “We did it, by gum!”

  He looked at it a moment.

  “How’re we gonna get it open?” asked GUF. “That metal shore looks tough!”

  “I think maybe we can abrade it around the cutting line, with sandstone and, well . . . go get me a real big sharp piece of iron, DUN.”

  When it was brought, MIK handed the iron to GUF and put his long tail over a big rock.

  “Go ahead, GUF,” he said. “Won’t hurt me a bit.”

  GUF slammed the piece of iron down.

  “Uh hyuk,” he said. “Clean as a whistle!”

  MIK took the severed tail, sat down cross-legged near the eyebolt, poured sand on the cutting line, and began to rub it across the line with his tail.

  It took three days, turning the capsule every few hours.

  They pulled off the eyebolt end. A dusty waxy mess was revealed.

  “That’ll be what’s left of the waterproof mastic,” said MIK. “Help me, you two.” They lifted the capsule. “Twist,” he said.

  The metal groaned. “Now, pull!”

  A long thin inner core, two meters by a third of a meter, slid out.

  “Okay,” said MIK, putting down the capsule shell and wiping away mastic. “This inner shell is threaded in two parts. Turn that way, I’ll turn this!”

  They did. Inside was a shiny sealed glass tube through which they could dimly see shapes and colors.

  “Wow!” said GUF. “Looka that!”

  “Oh boy, oh boy,” said DUN.

  “That’s Pyrex,” said MIK. “When we break that, we’ll be through.”

  “I’ll do it!” said DUN.

  “Careful!” said GUF.

  The rock shattered the glass. There was a loud noise as the partial vacuum disappeared.

  “Oh boy!” said DUN.