by Terry Bisson
“A biplane!” he muttered. “Can it be …”
It was. The summons he had long awaited. Even as he watched, the words began forming: CALLING CAP
He didn’t bother looking for a phone booth. They had all been hauled away years before. While everyone else on the street was watching the plane, he stripped off his tights, his cape …
CALLING CAPTAIN ORDINARY
And before the words were fully formed, there was a neatly-folded costume on the curb. If anyone looked down and saw a man in slacks and a sport coat standing in line at a nearby Starbucks, they thought nothing of it.
Nothing out of the ordinary in midtown New York.
Unnoticed by all except a select few, every third Starbucks has a narrow door between the broom closet and the unisex john/jane. Captain Ordinary’s decaf soy latte order got him the key.
He felt a moment’s claustrophobia as the rain-forest-free faux wood door clicked shut behind him, and then—
Nothing.
Twelve hours later, Captain Ordinary was in abandoned quarry on the side of a remote Adirondack peak, passing his hand over the damp stone in a mystical pattern handed down for centuries. He stepped back, waiting for the door to lens open.
Nothing.
He rang the bell.
“Over here,” said a bearded, tweedy figure, beckoning from a nearby cleft in the rock. “You’re late.”
“The teleporter was on the blink,” Ordinary said, as he followed his host down the winding stairway into the bowels of the mountain. “I had to take the subway. Then the bus.”
“Tell me about it,” said Doctor Forever in the thick brogue that identified him as one of the Immortals charged with guarding humanity against extraordinary dangers. “The others are just now getting here themselves. There is no time to lose.”
Captain Ordinary felt a thrill as he entered the electrically-lighted conference room and saw that the oval table was surrounded by familiar figures in colorful costumes. It wasn’t every day that his leader and mentor assembled the entire Rad Pack of differently-abled emergency mutants from around the globe!
“I have dreadful news,” said the dour Scot as he seated himself at the head of the table. “I have reason to believe thatthe Earth has been covered with some kind of Mundanity Shroud that renders us all powerless, more or less.”
“Tell me about it,” muttered Nano Man, groaning as he squeezed into his seat. His ability to make himself microscopic was the key to many of the Rad Pack’s successful efforts. Full sized, he looked a little broad in the beam. Not to mention annoyed. “I suspected as much,” said Rolex Girl, whose ability to travel backward as well as forward in time had proven so handy in the past. “My watch has stopped in the present.”
“Something has slowed me down for sure,” said Ftl, the bullet-headed dwrf, whose ability to outrun light itself had resulted in so many thrilling rescues. “I came at a trot. My Nikes are hardly warm.”
“Where did this shroud come from?” asked Captain Ordinary, adjusting his balls in his slacks as he sat down at the table. “How can we overcome it?”
“First, we need a better look at it,” said the gruff Scot, turning to Seti, whose gift for intimate contact with alien explorers had resulted in so many penetrating insights. “I was hoping that you could ask the Visitors to examine the Mundanity Shroud from the outside.”
“I wish,” Seti responded despondently, squirming on the donut-shaped cushion that he was never without. “I have been trying to contact those who probed me in the past, but without success. I’m beginning to wonder if it wasn’t all a dream.”
“This is bad!” said the tweedy Scot, beginning to look dismayed.
“What about the Hawking?” asked Captain Ordinary. “The interstellar spaceship that was dispatched several yearsago to look for Earth-like planets among the distant stars? Perhaps that intrepid crew can look back at our planet and tell us what they see.”
“I thought of that,” said the immortal mentor, who was starting to sound shaky. “But they’ve all gone starkers from the smell on the ship. They began to lose it last month when methane ball futures went south. Plus it would take hours to get a message to them through the Shroud.”
“Oh, dear,” said Captain Ordinary. “It’s that powerful?”
“It is apparently woven out of some kind of multidimensional superstring,” the Hibernian groaned. “A tight weave indeed.” Then, rallying his fading powers, he turned to the latest arrival, who was circling the table, having a hard time deciding where to sit.
“Quantum Gal, perhaps you can use your wormhole lens to get a better view. From an alternate but nearby universe, perhaps.”
“I tried it on the way over,” she said sadly. “All I can I see is a hole, with what looks like a worm at the bottom.”
“Then all is lost,” groaned the failing Scot. “This impenetrable Mundanity Shroud doubtless portends some awesome evil, I fear. And we are powerless against it.”
“Power unless is awesome doom!” said a rasping, metallic, but welcome voice.
They all brightened. They had forgotten Aye Eye, the emotionless but brilliant computer intelligence that had constructed itself after a nuclear mishap and since given them so much crucial guidance.
Even Doctor Forever seemed encouraged. “What can you tell us, Aye Eye? Speak up, for God’s sake!”
“Is God there no speak awesome,” the digital consciousness droned dispassionately. “And is as does doom say ever.”
“Gone bonkers,” said the newly-dismayed Scot. “That’s it, we’re all done for, unless …” He closed his eyes and his chin dropped to his chest.
They all stared. “Unless what?” they all asked at once.
No answer.
“What’s he thinking?” Ordinary asked Psi Guy, whose uncanny ability to read minds had proven so helpful in past crusades.
“Beats me. I have trouble reading my own mind these days, much less his.”
“No wonder. He’s dead,” said Nano Man, who could tell by looking, even without microsizing and entering any of the expired Scot’s several orifices.
“I thought he was immortal,” said Rolex Girl disgustedly.
“Perhaps, in a way, he still is!” said Cyberboy, whose mutant ability to surf the matrix had shown them so many cybernetic shortcuts. The diminutive teen lifted the former Doctor Forever’s gray ponytail and pulled a tiny device from the slot in the back of his thick neck. “Just for kicks,” he said, “I downloaded our leader’s brain into this flash drive.”
The Rad Pack breathed a collective sigh of relief as Cyberboy stuck the flash drive under his tongue and sucked. But their hopes were dashed when he said, “System failure. All I’m getting is an error message: digital overload.”
“Shit,” said Rolex Girl.
“Bit of a problem,” said Nano Man.
“We’re fckd,” said the dwrf.
“Not necessarily,” said Captain Ordinary. He knew it was his job, as Control, to step up and take command. “I have a plan.”
“What’s that?” they all asked at once.
“Go home,” he said. “Get a job. Get married. Have kids.”
“I’m gay,” said several.
“You can adopt,” said Captain Ordinary. He was getting into the swing of it. His voice had a sudden ring of authority. “Take a break. Don’t you deserve a rest after all you’ve done? Dress down. Live it up. Eat out. Watch TV. Mow the lawn. There are power mowers, you know. Take a course, learn physics …”
“Don’t even think about it,” said Quantum Gal, who was still circling the table, trying to decide which chair to take.
“… or form a book club,” said Captain Ordinary. This was what he was here for. “Read Jane Austen or, better yet, Kim Stanley Robinson.”
“Who’s she?” they all asked at once.
Farewell Atlantis
Iremember exactly when it all started, this incredible adventure. It was during The Look of Love, when she wakes up after the oper
ation and sees her young doctor’s face for the first time.
This guy sits down in the seat next to mine. “Hey,” he says in a loud whisper.
“Sss k kh!” I said. She was smiling and saying, “Because a woman sees with her heart, not her eyes.”
“I need to talk to you.”
“You’re not supposed to talk in the movies.”
“How do you know? Why not?”
“Just because,” I said. This whole thing was making me nervous. I reached into my popcorn and he grabbed my wrist. It was my turn to say “Hey!” Nobody likes to be grabbed by a total stranger, especially at the movies.
He says, “Look at me,” so I do.
“You look perfectly normal,” I said, shaking his hand off my wrist. “So why don’t you return to your seat before I get the usher.”
“What usher?” he says. “Look around. Do you see anybody else in the theater at all?”
I looked around. It was a tiny theater, only about ten or twelve seats, and even in the dark I could see that all but ours were empty. The doctor was showing her flowers for the first time, so the bright colors made it easier.
“No,” I said. “There was just the two of us. And you were sitting back there, where you belong.”
“Why are there only twelve seats?”
“Beats me,” I said, “Now may I watch the movie, please?” They were walking down Fifth Avenue. She was amazed at the sights. She had been blind all her life, until just yesterday.
“How come there’s only one EXIT?” he whispered. “Aren’t movie theaters supposed to have several? Something’s not right!”
“Sk k kk k k,” I said. They had just stopped in front of Tiffany’s. She had never seen a diamond before.
“How come there’s no concession stand? No lobby? No restrooms?”
“I already have popcorn, “I said. I rattled the bag for proof. “And I never go to the restroom, I might miss something.”
“Miss what?” he said. “How many movies have you seen since you’ve been here?”
“A lot. I don’t count them. I just watch them.”
“Do you remember buying a ticket? Do you remember sitting down? Do you remember anything before the movies?”
“No,” I admitted. “Come to think about it, it is kind of peculiar.”
“Now you are thinking about things!” He took my hand in his, and I let him hold it. “Stella,” he said. “Something strange is going on here, and I won’t rest until I figure out what it is.”
His eyes were shining in the starlight (the doctor was showing her the stars) and suddenly he didn’t look so crazy after all.
“How did you know my name?” I asked. “How come I know yours is Frank?”
“Beats me,” he said, squeezing my hand. “But you are starting to wonder, to question things, and that’s good.” He stood up, pulling at me.
“Whoa,” I said. “Where are we going?” I didn’t want to lose my seat.
“The EXIT,” said Frank. “I intend to try it, to see what is on the other side, come what may. But I can’t do it—I can’t do anything, apparently—without you by my side.”
“Okay, okay,” I said. Oddly enough, I was feeling the same way.
I grabbed my popcorn and followed him to the EXIT door, which was down beside the screen.
It opened with a little bar, which he knew how to operate.
It opened onto a metal corridor, studded with rivets. There was no street, no traffic, no town. I looked both ways to check.
“Just as I thought: we’re in a spaceship,” he said.
“That’s absurd. It could be a submarine,” I pointed out. “Or a cruise ship, like in Loveboat.”
“Submarine corridors are narrower,” Frank said. “Remember Das Boot? Two people could barely pass. And something tells me that this is no cruise we’re on. Come on!”
I followed him for what seemed centuries. He hadn’t brought his popcorn so we shared mine. The corridor was covered with moss, and vines popped out of the seams between the rivets. Sometimes we had to fight our way through them. There was rust everywhere.
“This ship, if it is a ship, is ancient,” Frank said. “This leads me to think it’s a starship, on a centuries-long journey. Remember Destination: Arcturus?”
I did, but just barely. We had come to a door that said STARSHIP COMMAND. And just in time. We were out of popcorn.
It opened with a little thumb device. It opened like
a lens.
Frank stepped through and I followed. He had been right so far and I was beginning to trust him.
“Just as I suspected,” he said. There were controls everywhere, dials and buttons and screens. On one side of the triangular room were twelve glass coffins in two rows of six.
Frank walked between them with slow steps, shaking his head. “Don’t look, Stella,” he said.
But I couldn’t resist. Each held a mouldering corpse.
“The suspended animation must have failed,” he said. “Except for these two.”
The last two were empty, and open.
“Lucky for them,” I said.
“Stella,” Frank said, taking my hand, “Don’t you get it? Those two are us! You and I are the only survivors. If this starship is on a mission to populate a new world, which I suspect it is, now it’s up to us alone, you and me. We are Adam and Eve.”
It was all beginning to make sense. “That must be why we are naked,” I said. I had just noticed.
“And why you are so beautiful!” he said.
I covered up with my empty popcorn bag as best I could. He didn’t even try.
“But first, there are important questions to answer,” Frank went on excitedly. “What went wrong that the others all perished? And how did you and I survive the disaster? Who saved us? Who—or what?”
“Ship,” said a deep robotic voice. It seemed to come from everywhere.
“Who are you?” Frank asked.
“I am Ship. It was my job to keep you all alive, but I guess I fell asleep. Luckily you two survived.”
“Machines don’t fall asleep,” I pointed out.
“They do if they can’t stay awake,” said Ship. “I couldn’t help it. I can barely keep my circuits open even now.”
“Try,” said Frank sternly. “We need some answers. How long have we been on this journey, Ship?”
“Six thousand years.”
I gasped. That’s a long time.
“That’s six thousand of my years,” said Ship. “Your years are of course very different from mine. I am a quantum device.”
“How long in our years?” asked Frank.
“Five thousand, seven hundred and forty, point four.”
“We’ve been watching movies for almost six thousand years?” I asked, amazed.
“No,” said Ship. “You were in suspended animation, like the others, most of the time. You’ve only been watching movies, as you call them, for a week or so. It’s the orientation period.”
“Six thousand years is a damn long time,” said Frank. “The Earth we left behind must be changed beyond all recognition. Our only hope is to push on to our destination. How long before we arrive?”
“You’re there already,” said Ship. “Parked in orbit. It was my job to open all twelve pods upon arrival and sleep-walk you to the theater for gradual awakening and orientation.”
“That’s why there were twelve seats!” said Frank.
“I fell asleep and ten of you died, as I said. I guess I should be ashamed.”
“You guess?” I protested. He didn’t sound ashamed.
Ship didn’t answer. He had gone back to sleep.
“Some Ship,” I said disgustedly.
“The two of us survived and that’s the important part,” said Frank. “Now it’s our job to populate the new world that awaits us. I’m looking forward to it.” He gave my hand a little squeeze.
I looked around. The control room didn’t look very romantic.
“Not here, Stel
la, not now,” he reassured me. “First we have to find out where we are, and get down to the surface of the planet that will be our new home forever. The home of a new race of humanity forever. A new beginning.”
“Can you work the controls?”
“That could present a problem,” Frank said. There were controls everywhere. He studied them dejectedly. He even tried to awaken Ship, but without success. It worried me to see him losing his confidence.
“Maybe we should get dressed,” I said. “A proper uniform might help.”
“There’s an idea,” he said.
There was a drawer marked MEN filled with turquoise starship coveralls, and he pulled on a pair. The WOMEN’s drawer held only bras and panties.
“I guess this will have to do for me,” I said.
Meanwhile, Frank was already looking better, studying the controls with a broad smile. “This uniform apparently has some kind of memory-fabric,” he said. “For example, I know somehow that this gizmo opens the viewscreen. Let’s find out where we are. Are you ready for the first look at our new home?”
I held my breath as he pulled the little lever.
A lens opened on the front of the ship and we were looking down at a jewel-like blue planet suspended in space.
“It looks awfully familiar,” I gasped. “It’s …?
“It’s Earth!” gasped Frank.
“I have figured it out,” said Frank, minutes later. “Apparently some horrendous disaster was threatening and we were put into orbit so that humanity could survive. Put into suspended animation until it was over and we could safely repopulate our precious home planet, like Adam and Even, starting all over.”
“For six thousand years!” I said, amazed. “It must have been pretty bad.”
“Armageddon,” nodded Frank. “Nuclear, biological, who knows? Whatever it was, it must have annihilated everybody, man, woman and child. Luckily, the Earth itself seems to have recovered. The oceans are blue, and there are large green areas.”
“I hope there are animals,” I said. I was hungry. I already missed my popcorn.
“We’re about to find out,” said Frank. “There’s sure to be a Lander here on the ship somewhere. All we have to do is find it.”