The Forever Man 6 - Dystopian Apocalypse Adventure: Book 6: Rebirth

by Craig Zerf

  But finally the corridor opened up into another vast area. And all illusions of being alone were instantly dispelled. Hundreds of people walked about the open cavern. There were market stalls, merchants, customers aplenty and groups of children. All were dressed in similar gray garb although some, females it seemed, wore colored turban-like head gear. Reds and yellows and blues. They were all built in a similar fashion to the small man. Four foot or under, large eyes, bulbous heads and slight muscularity.

  But, oddly, aside from the obvious hustle and bustle of movement and a few muted words there was no real sound. No general hubbub of commerce. No loud voices shouting out about their wares. No mothers scolding their children, men joshing each other with ribald comments, teenagers displaying their usual general noisy boisterousness.

  It was like watching a movie with the sound turned down.

  ‘It’s so quiet,’ murmured Nathaniel.

  ‘Is it?’ Countered the little man. ‘Perhaps you are simply not listening correctly.’

  The marine tilted his head to one side and opened his mind. And he took a step back as the noise almost overwhelmed him. Everybody was communicating. Children shouting and squealing, merchants bellowing for attention, women chattering and teenagers bantering. But hardly any mouths were moving.

  The small man smiled at Nathaniel’s reaction. ‘We gave up manifest communication over two centuries ago. Obviously we still do talk to each other but it’s more of a nod to our past than an absolute necessity. A societal affectation. I suppose one might say, we do it for fun.’

  The small man held his hand out ‘My name is Cody Analyst.’

  Nathaniel took Cody’s hand and shook it carefully. ‘I am Marine Master Sergeant Nathaniel Hogan.’

  ‘Your mind-speak belies your vocality. I sense that you are known by a moniker that far exceeds that of which you have divulged. Marine Master Sergeant Nathaniel Hogan, King of the Picts, Leader of the Free State, Wielder of the axe. And The Forever Man.’

  ‘Oh, that,’ mumbled Nathaniel.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Cody. ‘That.’

  ‘It’s nothing,’ denied Nathaniel. ‘Mere words.’

  ‘Words are never, mere,’ stated Cody. ‘They have power. You of all people should know that. They cajole, they convince. They motivate. They give and take life. Words are commands.’

  Nathaniel said nothing, but he did reinforce his mental barrier. He glanced at Cody and saw a faint flicker of disappointment cross his face.

  ‘Darn that,’ thought the marine to himself. ‘Not quite ready to join this all-knowing-all-sharing jamboree right now. Maybe later.’

  ‘Perhaps it is time for you to meet with the chamber of guides.’

  ‘The leaders?’ Asked Nathaniel.

  ‘Not as you might think of them. We are a group of the few, chosen via vote to help guide the path of the many.’

  ‘Potato, po-tah-to,’ quipped the marine. ‘And what if the many don’t feel like following the guidance of the few?’

  Cody scowled. ‘Then we would re-discuss the issue. However it is customary for the many to take the advice of the few.’

  ‘Big surprise there,’ said Nathaniel as he pointed at a large, pillared building at the side of the cavern. ‘I assume that the few reside there.’

  ‘It is where we sit,’ agreed Cody. ‘Please follow me.’

  They walked up the stairs and into the building. There was a large front door but it was open and, inside, a single large room. In the center a round table with ten seats. Around the side of the building were rows of stone benches, ala Roman senate, where the many could oversee the decision making process of the few.

  Seven of the seats were occupied.

  As Nathaniel and Cody approached, the marine felt a soft push against his mental shields. He lowered them slightly and a feeling of greeting filtered through before he raised them again.

  ‘Let me introduce you to everyone,’ offered Cody.’ He pointed out each person as he spoke. ‘Travis Physicist. Parker Chemist. Mason Healer. Noah Keeper. Luke Tutor. Evan Biologist. Riley Engineer. Together with myself we are the few who make up the Chamber of Guides.’

  ‘No women,’ noted Nathaniel.

  ‘That is through happenstance, not design,’ said Cody. ‘Women are as welcome into the chamber as men. Now, please sit down, we have much to discuss.’

  Nathaniel took an empty seat. It was slightly too small for him, obviously designed for the more petite builds of the underground dwellers about him. He could sense the men around the table communicating with each other and he knew that whatever he had discussed with Cody was most likely being shared amongst all present.

  ‘Before we start,’ said Cody. ‘Would you like any sustenance? Food, something to drink?’

  ‘Don’t suppose that you have anything that isn’t soya based?’ Asked Nathaniel.

  ‘Of course,’ countered Cody. ‘Fruit? Perhaps some cherries or an apple or two. Or would you prefer something more substantial? I believe we have some beef jerky.’

  Nathaniel nodded, his mouth watering at the prospect of eating something that wasn’t legume based.

  Cody pulsed out a thought and it was only moments later that a teenage boy walked in carrying a tray. The boy set the tray down in front of Cody, bowed slightly and left. On the tray was a large pottery mug of apple juice and a pile of beef jerky.

  Nathaniel grinned, took a sip of the juice and then started working on the dried strips of beef. He nodded at Cody. ‘Many thanks, Code-man. Don’t mind me. You dudes just continue with the talking, I’m all ears.’

  Cody cleared his throat before he started. ‘Gentlemen,’ he said. ‘Our guest would prefer it of we communicated in the old way. He is not yet comfortable with any form of mind-meld. I feel that he thinks of it as invasive.’

  There was a general nodding around the table. ‘So be it,’ affirmed Mason Healer. ‘We shall…talk. Noah,’ he continued. ‘As you are the official keeper of history, perhaps you can start by telling Nathaniel of the times gone by.’

  ‘As it pleases all, so shall I do,’ acknowledged Noah Keeper as he stood up and faced the marine. ‘What you see around you is the civic center of Dreamland, and we are collectively, Dreamlanders. I suppose that you are wondering why?’

  Nathaniel shrugged. ‘I could probably make an educated guess.’

  ‘Really?’ Asked Noah skeptically.

  ‘This seems to be the research facility that we used to call area 51. Back in the day it had a few nicknames. Home Base, Watertown, Paradise Ranch. But one of the more popular ones was Dreamland. I would guess that you dudes named it after the people that used to work here.’

  Noah raised an eyebrow in muted surprise. ‘Very impressive, Mister Hogan. But only partly correct. Strictly speaking, we have not named it after the people that used to work here. Because, you see, we are all direct descendents of those people. And we have never left, nor have we ever stopped working, so, ipso facto, we are those people that you talk about.’

  ‘But that’s…I mean, how?’ Stammered Nathaniel.

  ‘As you did know, before the first solar pulse this was the facility known to many as Area 51. But were you privy to what was done in the facility?’

  ‘Research. Top secret air force stuff. Weapons. Also, it was rumored that a lot of UFO stuff was going on. Bodies of aliens, downed flying saucers. All sorts of crap. To be honest, not sure what the reality of the situation was.’

  ‘You are correct in some ways. It was primarily a research facility. Aircraft were involved, also some weapons. The alien rumors were never anything more than that. There were never any aliens. However, the bulk of research done was many times more complex as well as been far simpler. In a nutshell, the scientists and engineers and biologists at Area 51 were simply a hothouse specializing in Futurology or Future Studies. This is the study of postulating possible, probable, and preferable futures and the worldviews and myths that underlie them. However, we were much more than a simple think tank, in
that once we had postulated a theory, then we went on to attempt to prove that theoretical postulation in a mechanical way. Everything from new energy systems to psychokinesis and technological forecasting. As such we were in charge of many highly secret studies, hence the remote location and the high levels of security. In fact Area 51 was as secure, if not more so, than Cheyenne Mountain, the...’

  ‘North American Aerospace Defence Command. NORAD,’ interrupted Nathaniel.

  ‘Exactly,’ agreed Noah. ‘And, as I am sure that you know, NORAD is protected by a system that is automatically activated in the case of a nuclear strike. Unfortunately, or perhaps, indeed, fortunately for us – a massive solar flare registers with the defense system as an EMP strike, or basically as airburst nuclear bomb. The system went into immediate lockdown, sealing all personal in. There was no way to override the system, a failsafe feature that was implemented on our own recommendation so as to prevent any chance of inadvertently opening the airlocks and exposing all to deadly radiation. Regrettably, despite that fact that we had over four hundred people working in the facility, including almost one hundred of the brightest minds on the planet, nobody foresaw what had happened. The ensuing planetary alignment and repositioning of the sun ensured the ongoing eruption of solar electromagnetic pulses. As a result the security systems assumed that there was a full scale nuclear war going on outside and went into a full ten year lockdown. The pulses took out all of our audio-visual equipment and the only contact that we had with the outside world was via the equipment controlled by the security system, and that was telling us that we could not leave the facility.’

  ‘But how could you, or at least your ancestors, have survived that long?’ Asked Nathaniel. ‘Surely there wasn’t enough food or water stockpiled?’

  ‘There was enough for three years,’ agreed Noah. ‘And by that time, or actually before, we had instituted hydroponic tanks, light cultures, water regeneration plants and growth tanks for proteins. We were totally self sufficient. After ten years the system allowed for manual override, even though it warned us that the atmosphere was still unsafe. However, volunteers went out to discover what had really happened. After a few weeks of reconnaissance and the following research we postulated that our survival in the harsh new world that had arisen would be measured at a mere seven percentage points. Unless…we went back underground. Locked ourselves away, as it were. This we did. After six hundred years, what you see before you is the result. There are just over two thousand Dreamlanders. We are divided into work and procreation groupings. Obviously, with a low start number, we had to avoid random interbreeding. Instead, what we developed after many years of research, was selective-interbreeding. As a result we have decreased in size, increased our rods and cones to allow low-light visual increase, traded musculature for mental strength. The average IQ of a Dreamlander is in excess of 162. I believe, in your days, this would have been comparable to the ancients scientist Alfred Einstein or perhaps Stephen Hawking.’

  ‘Cool,’ interrupted Nathaniel again. ‘So what you’re telling me is that you’ve developed a bunch of geeks who are real good at taking IQ tests’

  Noah stared for a few seconds before he commented. ‘Mister Hogan,’ he said. ‘Are you being deliberately obtuse or is this some sort of Neanderthal attempt at humor? Have we in some way offended you? Because, if so, it was not our intention.’

  The marine sighed. ‘I apologize,’ he said. ‘This whole thing is a bit of a curve ball. To tell the truth I’ve been treading water of late. A whole lot has happened, I’ve been reborn, involved in a few battles, been shot, died, came back, started a revolution. Now I meet a bunch of technological Gollums that no one else on this plane of existence even knew existed. And to top it all, I don’t yet know if you dudes are friend or foe. And you have an irritating habit of sticking your minds into mine without invite, so I’m having to keep up a mental shield that is proving to be a little distracting.’

  ‘Please, Nathaniel,’ said Cody. ‘Be at rest. We are friends. And as for your mental shield, I assure you that we are not delving into your mind uninvited. Believe me, if we wanted to look inside, then your puny mental shield would do little to stop us. For example…’

  Nathaniel felt a thought smash into his mental shield, pulling it aside as it thrust itself forward.

  And the marine pushed back. Hard. Like a wall of fire his shield blossomed out, crackling with power. All around him a veritable mental hurricane thrashed the air, pummeling the minds of the chamber of guides. Three chairs were knocked back by the power and two other guides fell to their knees, clutching at their scoured brains. Cody let out a high pitched squeal and fell to the floor, a stringless puppet.

  Nathaniel stood up, anger blazing from his eyes. ‘No,’ he commanded. ‘You are not invited.’

  Noah wrung his hands, his face a picture of regret and remorse. ‘What are you?’ He questioned.

  ‘I am The Forever Man,’ answered Nathaniel. ‘And you do not enter my mind uninvited. I don’t care what IQ you claim to have.’

  And then it was over. The mental flame subsided, the cerebral storm softened to a mere background zephyr.

  All was calm.

  ‘I apologize again,’ said Nathaniel. ‘Perhaps we should start afresh. And this time we’ll both try to dial the arrogance down a little.’

  Cody dragged up a small smile as he nodded. ‘I agree, Forever Man,’ he said. ‘Let us start again.’

  And so Nathaniel told them everything.

  Chapter 32

  Dreamland was vast. And not warehouse vast or even stadium vast…it was proper under the ground whole civilization vast. And Noah, who had become Nathaniel’s official guide, had informed him that the Dreamlanders had never had to extend the underground facilities, as they had always been massive.

  In the days past, many of the caverns had been filled with raw materials for experiments. Steel, wood, plastics and chemicals. Still others had been stocked with foods and apparatus. In true military fashion all equipment had been stocked in triplicate or more so as to avoid down time due to failure.

  But there were two super-huge caverns that were so large that one almost couldn’t see the far ends. Both of these areas had once housed rows and rows of experimental aircraft. Bombers that had dwarfed the old B52’s. Fighter jets. High altitude reconnaissance aircraft and industrial sized cargo planes. Now, one was completely empty and the other one housed the Dreamlander’s meat farming and hydroponic facilities.

  Noah explained that the raw materials that had made up the aircraft, had been used over the centuries to build other more necessary equipment, that could be utilized by the underground dwellers.

  ‘Does this massive empty hanger have any access to the outside?’ Asked Nathaniel, as he and Noah stood on the edge of the vast open space.

  ‘Surely,’ answered the guide. ‘A series of steel fold-back hanger doors, thirty six inches thick, run the length of the far ceiling. That ramp there leads to the outside. It’s still operational, as are most things in Dreamland. Our future-watchers insist that plans are in place for almost any scenario that may occur, from mass exodus to isolation. Why do you ask?’

  ‘You reckon that we could fit the Leviathan in here?’

  Noah stared blankly at the marine.

  ‘Sorry,’ apologized Nathaniel. ‘The airship outside. The one that I arrived in. Could we fit that in here?’

  ‘I have not seen the ship,’ admitted Noah. ‘However, Cody has, and he has shared his mental picture with me.’ He paused for a few seconds. ‘Yes,’ he stated. ‘It would fit with some feet to spare.’

  ‘You sure?’ Asked Nathaniel.

  Noah did not deign to answer, instead walking away from the open cavern and heading back towards the more populated areas of the underground city.

  ‘Where we going now?’

  ‘I have extrapolated from your question that you would like the airship to be secreted in our facility for a while. I am taking us back to the Chamber of Gu
ides so that we might make that happen.’

  ‘Cool,’ said Nathaniel.

  ***

  The Leviathan hung in the air, some ten feet above the ground. The top of the envelope still over twenty feet from the ceiling of the cavern. Rows of three-mantle gas lights bathed the entire ship in bright yellow-white light, casting huge groups of shadows that flickered and danced as the gas waxed and waned. It was as though some sort of monstrous sea-creature hung in front of them, the glistening lights creating a faux-aquarium in which the monster could swim.

  Hundreds of Dreamlanders were swarming all over the airship, most of them carrying clipboards, measuring tapes and pencils. Ethan stood next to the marine, an expression of concern on his face.

  ‘Don’t fret, captain,’ said Nathaniel. ‘Noah says that they just want a look at the ship. I promise that they shall do it no harm. Actually, quite the opposite. The Chamber say that they are keen to make some improvements, upgrade a few things.’

  ‘The Leviathan has not needed any upgrades for almost six hundred years,’ sniffed Ethan. ‘It is perfection as it is.’

  ‘Yeah, well now it’s going to be perfection plus.’

  ‘As you say, so shall it be,’ said Ethan morosely.

  Nathaniel grinned and then turned to face the crew. Most of them, including Brett and Leon, were seated at a group of trestle tables near the airship. On the tables stood an array of food supplied by the Dreamlanders. Apples, breads, vegetable dishes and meat based stews. The crew members had never before in their lives been exposed to such an incredible wealth of epicurean delights and they were eating as if it were to be their last meal. Brett had an apple in each hand and was taking bites in tandem, first from the right hand and then from the left.