This story's been written for the annual TheScian science fiction short story writing contest. If you notice any similarities between this one and 'The Last Hour', that's because I adapted some ideas from this story to that one, not the other way round. The main theme of this story had been in the procrastination pipeline for quite some time - deadlines really do work miracles, you know!
When the end came, no one was ready for it.
A slow, staid, patient Earth was rudely interrupted from her ceaseless plodding by something extraordinary, something inexplicable. A chasm had opened up near the edge of the Solar System. It was a rift in space time that would, perhaps, not stand out among the many similar scars the Universe heedlessly sports; nonetheless, it would go on to ravage the spinning rocks that huddled under the light of an average star.
The Earth watched as the little scratch rapidly evolved into a tear. Not in the least bit fussy, it feasted on an endless supply of edibles nearby, eventually becoming so engorged that it started spewing material back into the Solar System. More than a cosmic perversion of excretion, this material, which was almost completely radiation, was a harbinger of death. Spectacular planet-wide storms that could fit a hundred of herself raged across the gas giants. The Earth did her bit in trying to stir up the scurrying ants- freak storms lashed the surface; brutal levels of heat and radiation almost physically pushed back the inhabitants into their dwellings. It did not work. The little people who had built structures millions of times their own size, and had looked into the distant furnace of the birth of the Universe, could not feel the pulse of their own planet. The weather remained a tempestuous beast, and resisted all attempts at domestication. Global warming had once brought the planet to its knees- yet no lessons were learnt. Perhaps they could never be. Meteorologists mumbled about ‘cyclical unpredictability’, a phrase that did not require too much skill at deciphering jargon to identify ignorance. But the human race was too far along, too heady with the knowledge of its own superiority to notice anything wrong. Even fearful whispers that tried to resurrect the ghost of global warming were ignored. That was about when the ozone layer started evaporating.
A dispirited Earth had perhaps underestimated the sheer tenacity of this species. This was after all the same creature that through thick headedness, and occasional well-intentioned stupidity reduced most other creatures to museum artefacts. Human scientists predicted that in five hundred years, a combination of radiation, heat and floods would make the planet uninhabitable. To the Earth’s exasperation, the little people only viewed this as another engineering challenge. They would go underground. They would seal themselves off from the harmful environment outside.
They would launch the Earth out of the Solar System.
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In a roughly circular room, whose walls were mostly transparent except for the section which served as the writing board, sat around twenty people. With some difficulty you could perhaps identify that these were the same human beings that had once swarmed the planet. But evolution, and hundreds of generations underground had been harsh on them. They were tall and gangly in a way that would have seemed painful to surface human beings. They had pale, waxy skins, negligible hair, and fragile, almost child like limbs. You could immediately see that they were not physical people; they had an innate economy of movement that seemed closer to plants than animals. All but two pairs of eyes looked up as the prayer reader sedately walked into the room, swept clutter off the solitary desk, and opened the Zustra. One of these indifferent pairs of eyes belonged to a young man called Marek. He slouched as low as possible in the stiff backed chair and tried hard not to listen to the prayer reader’s monotone. Everything the man said seemed to repeat itself eventually. Today the reader spoke about the divine light, an otherworldly illumination that would save them all from a meaningless existence. Under the pretext of stifling a yawn, he raised a slow hand to his mouth, and from underneath, grinned at a woman two rows away.
This woman, who was known as Bili, had been on several occasions on the verge of dozing off, only just managing to rouse herself each time. She had stolen a handful of surreptitious glances at Marek. Each time he had appeared to have been staring ahead with fierce concentration, a posture which she knew meant the exact opposite. Presently she saw him grin at her, and slowly crook one of his fingers over his thumb in a characteristic gesture. She returned it, and both of them turned to look at the third of their group, a tall, thin (even for them), solemn young man who was sitting in the row closest to the reader. They never could understand Fisek’s fascination with the Zustra; they were alike in so many ways, but Fisek’s obstinate desire to see good in their holy book amused and frustrated them. There was no way they would be able to catch his attention now. They went back to carefully ignoring the reader.
'It has been foretold that a time will come when we will no longer cower under the soil like worms, but rise and reclaim what is our own. There will be signs, yes. The Lord will tell us when we are ready…'
A couple of hours later, the three of them were making their way through a little tunnel that led to their housings. Fisek was unusually cheerful.
‘What about the plan to break in? Don’t you think we should do it today? I know that sentry – he’s a jolly friendly chap. I can talk him into taking a walk with me, I think.”
Marek and Bili looked at each other for a moment, before loudly complaining that, yes, the plan was on, and he would have known it too, if he had not been so busy sucking up to the reader. Nothing could dampen Fisek’s spirits today, though. He had asked a question in the prayer session that the reader had called ‘delightfully profound’. He chose to ignore the barb, and hastily began to formulate plans for their latest adventure.
'Today’s perfect, you know. Even Grandfather won’t be around. Today’s the sleeping day for him.’ Marek said with undisguised glee – his grandfather was known for his age-defyingly keen eyes that had scuppered many an ingenious plan. Bili nodded assent, pointing out that her parents were away on some repair work. While Fisek did not agree outwardly, the fact that he did not disagree, the others knew, was as close to consent as he could get. They thrashed out the final structure of the plan – they would leave just after lunch, when everyone would be resting. They would take the infrequently used tunnel coach, and get down as close to the Temple as possible. As for what they would do next, they came to the conclusion that planning too far ahead was about as useful as trying to dig their way to heaven, and would cross that bridge when it came.
‘I am starving, you know. And we need to rest before we go to the Temple.’ Marek said cautiously. The others frowned but said nothing; lunch was a real chore, and a painful one at that. Human beings’ physical strength had atrophied to such an extent that having food had become a protracted process. Eating too fast, or eating too much was very dangerous and could even result in death; even with sufficient restraint most people required a rest after the action. Marek often joked, to Fisek’s indignation, that the only thing humans did was pray, sleep, have food, sleep, pray, sleep and so on in an endless cycle. Sex was strictly monitored by the administrative council. Again it was an act that could severely exhaust a person; it could only be done with proper legal consent.
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The Temple was a strange thing, seemingly out of place in the world of these underground creatures. It was built of brick, not rock like the other structures; it stood over thirty feet in height, towering over the other structures which rarely, if ever, had more than two levels. The little aerial that poked upwards from the terrace was its highest point; it was so high up, that it was rumoured that standing on it, you could touch the tunnel roof with your outstretched hand. There was another thing about this structure that was unique. It was not spherical. In fact it had a distinct bilinear symmetry which many of its visitors found disconcerting.
Physical distinction is one thing, but the truly remarkable feature of the Temple was that no one really knew what it was for. It was like an outcast that was shunned not out of revulsion, but a fear borne of religion. Most people believed that it was haunted – there were numerous popular stories of how glory seekers had unaccountably perished within its mysterious confines. Youth has an incorrigible recklessness that it wears with pride; Marek, Fisek and Bili had always mentally classified all such tales under the ‘superstition’ column.
‘You know, I am not sure the sentry will take kindly to seeing you two there.’ Fisek pointed out. ‘He knows me, I’ve been here a couple of times, and he thinks that I’m a bit of a vagrant, but a harmless one. I don’t think he’ll think the same of you.’ He winked to take the seriousness out of his words.
Therefore a nervous (and relieved) Marek, and an excitable Bili crouched behind a rock while Fisek walked with what he evidently thought was a casual gait towards the sentry. The sentry looked rather terse and suspicious, and just when the two began to wonder if they would have to do something to rescue Fisek, the sentry cracked a sneaky smile and walked away with him. As they hastened towards the entrance a thought occurred to Bili.
‘What if it’s locked?’
Marek swore colourfully, but there wasn’t too much time to think of an alternative plan. On reaching the rather battered door of the Temple, they noticed that it did not even have a latch. Bili mentally thanked the Zustra and its authors for foisting such a convenient superstition on the populace; it did not for a second occur to either of them that the place might actually be dangerous. The door creaked rustily open.
The room was full of books. Many were stacked in gigantic piles, some even rising twenty feet into the air and appearing to merge with the rafters high above. Others were strewn across the floor chaotically. Even the disorder did not quite manage to give the impression of recent use. What felt like centuries of hardened grit completely muffled their footsteps, and every book was covered with a uniform dust coating. Marek tried to step over the piles, but there were so many that he gave up, and tried not to look at what he was walking through. He felt slightly dizzy; the only book he had ever seen in his life was the printed version of the Zustra, and that too only once. Bili, though seemed to have recovered quickly and was already rifling through a moderate sized pile. She picked out several titles that did not mean anything to her (‘An Evolutionary Study of Butterflies’, ‘In Defence of War’, ‘The Impending Asteroid Catastrophe’), before picking out an exceptionally thick tome called, ‘The Great Project’. Tucking it under her arm, she decided to go and check if Fisek and his new friend were on their way back. They had walked away in the opposite direction to the door; so she stepped out, walked to the edge of the front wall and stuck one careful eye beyond.
To her absolute shock they were only a few feet away. What saved her was the fact the sentry was not looking ahead at that point; he was staring into Fisek’s solemn face, rapt. Fisek, though, saw her, and started. The sentry noticed this, and made an unconscious motion as if to face ahead. Fisek reacted instinctively. He hugged the older man tightly, completely obscuring his view. Bili dashed back into the Temple and dragged a bemused Marek outside. They sprinted like they’d never done before. Their chests complained, and their legs felt like they were on fire, but they were too frightened to stop. They only looked back after reaching the rock, managing a momentary glimpse of Fisek before they fainted from sheer exhaustion.
Bili woke first, into an anxious face that was only a few inches away. Fisek moved away hurriedly, embarrassed, and also a little relieved.
‘So he didn’t see us then.’ Bili said rhetorically. Then something occurred to her, something that had been bothering her from even before she had stepped into the Temple.
‘What exactly did you tell that sentry, that he became all chummy?’
‘Oh that.’ Fisek looked embarrassed once more. ‘I just told him that I knew a good spot for illegal sex.’
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The only book that the trio managed to salvage from their adventure turned out to be a very useful one. It was a book unlike anything they had ever seen. It did not seem to trust itself; every time it made an assertion it offered bundles of facts, figures and quotations to back it up. It primarily detailed the chronological development of an underground network of habitable tunnels to save the human race from what it called the ‘Quantum Anomaly.’ It took a while for them to realize that the book was talking about them, or at least their ancestors, and even longer to see that the Zustra was itself based on this story.
The Earth watched the scurrying ants delve deeper and deeper towards her core. Geologists identified isothermal contours under the Earth’s surface up to two hundred kilometres below the Earth’s crust. That was the easy bit. The difficult part was to map the whole of the Earth’s plate tectonic system so as to find the most stable areas to build the habitation tunnels in. Any such mapping can only be correct to a certain degree, and so the scientists backed up their data with heavy redundancy. There would be at least three independent tunnel paths connecting any two habitable zones. The provision of air, food and water stumped them for a while. Any form of mechanical machinery would not do. The most optimistic estimates predicted a million year journey for the planet, and no mechanical machine could run that long. They needed self-sustaining systems that could, given enough time, repair themselves to perfection. For the first time in their brief history, humans did something that appealed to the watching Earth; they turned to nature. The humble animal cell, they realized, was a spectacularly robust self-sustaining system that put to shame any of their own creations. An era of bioengineering ensued, with impressive results. A hierarchical and completely closed food web comprising an assortment of manufactured bacteria, algae and fungi was built. This miniature ecosystem was then assimilated into wafer thin layers of bio machinery that could ingest the abundant rocky matter in the Earth’s crust and mantle, and expel oxygen and water vapour. The tunnels themselves were organized in a roughly spiral fashion. Interconnecting maintenance tunnels and steeper arms that connected two isotherms broke the pattern at regular intervals. Every tunnel was coated with layers of bio machinery that tried to do away with human intervention as much as possible. Temperature control to a certain extent was possible; but exoduses to higher or lower temperature habitable zones would be inevitable. Meanwhile, the Earth began to wither and die as the relentless heat and radiation took its toll. Still she watched the humans, their bluster and new found purpose, and hoped that they could still rescue her. The little people sweated for several generations over the problem of how to eject the Earth from the Solar System, before they hit upon a deceptively simple solution.
They blew up the Sun.
‘They got it wrong, you know.’ Marek did not have to refer to the book (which they had dubbed the ‘Azustra’) to let them know what he was talking about. They had discussed nothing else during the three months since their last adventure.
‘They thought that they had to build the perfect system that would eliminate the need for human operators. All that it did was make technological innovation redundant, and us how we are today. Timid, slow-witted and steeped in ignorance.’
Fisek was not prepared to forego his love for the Zustra. ‘The Zustra says that a massive famine hit the first pilgrims. I am willing to bet that the first underground dwellers suffered a severe food shortage. Perhaps, the machines did not work as expected. Or maybe there was a fight. Whatever it was, I think the problem was not fixed, and we adapted to lesser quantities of food, with the end result that we became such languorous creatures.’
Bili who never had too much patience was debates piped up, ‘I think it’s time we went on our next adventure.’ She paused, taking in the tolerant smile on Fisek’s face, and the carefully concealed excitement on Marek’s, and said, ‘You gave me the idea you know, with your stupid machismo arguments that prove nothing and mean nothing. I think we should go to the Earth’s surface.’
Marek laughed derisively, while Fisek attempted to launch into a measured counter-argument. But Bili loudly cut through their voices, and said, ‘The Azustra has a detailed map of all the underground tunnels. Tunnel coaches should take us to up to within five kilometres. And then on I think we can follow the maintenance tunnels all the way to the surface.’
Marek looked stunned and lost for words, while Fisek looked stunned and eager to speak. ‘How do you know all this?’ he asked her quickly.
‘My parents inspect the tunnels, you know. They tell me all about it.’ Noticing the smirk on Marek’s face, she added, ‘You may find it hard to believe, but the old people know a few things too. Anyway, from my parents’ description of the last habitable zone, the connecting tunnel we used for the exodus, and the current habitable zone, I think I have a fairly good idea as to where we are in relation to the Earth’s surface.’
Now Fisek seemed lost for words. Marek gave an admiring whoop and gave her a brief hug, saying, ‘And here I thought we would spend the rest of our lives telling our grandchildren how, in our greatest adventure, we fainted behind a rock, scared of a guy who was looking for illegal sex.’ Bili let out an involuntary giggle. Fisek, though, looked thoughtful and did not smile.
‘We could actually die here.’ Fisek said in a hushed tone. ‘This is not a silly break in, where the worst that thing that could happen would be that we would be denied food for some time. The Azustra says that the surface is a poisonous pit deadly to all forms of life. The Zustra says that we will receive some sign, something that will tell us that we can go back to the surface. I don’t think we should go.’
Bili and Marek looked at each other. It had been like this for some time. The Azustra seemed to have the opposite effect on Fisek as it did on them. It made him withdraw more into himself and become even more cautious than usual. This change in his demeanour unconsciously modified their response to Fisek’s statements. They would feel an irrational urge to do the exact opposite of what Fisek said, despite any evident logic. They reacted this way once more. Separately, and mentally, they confirmed that they would indeed go on this adventure even if it ended up killing them. Friendship, however quickly doused any rebellious flames, and they sat down to try and convince him to change his mind.
‘My parents use these suits when they go into the higher tunnels. They provide a breathable environment for five hours and maintain a constant temperature and pressure. I reckon they should work on the surface.’ Bili said, with Marek nodding vigorous assent. Fisek looked unconvinced.
‘Look,’ Marek added with a look of great solidarity, ‘I know it’s a scary thing. But I thought that was what we lived for. I promise that if we make it out of this alive, we will never go on an adventure again.’ Fisek looked slightly mollified, and Marek continued, ‘I just remembered one more thing. The Azustra spoke of habitability probes on the surface that would tell us when the Earth reached a habitable zone. Perhaps this is what the Zustra means by the divine signs. Maybe the probes have broken down; or maybe we have forgotten how to interpret the signals. Anyway, my point is that the probes may already be telling us something, and we don’t know it yet.’
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Fisek had not spoken a word during the three hour coach journey. Marek and Bili had started off brightly, with Marek’s wittiness apparently fuelled by the thought of imminent danger, but they had quietened down fast. Their stolen suits had, unsurprisingly, not fit them well at all, but even the extreme discomfort did not loosen their tongues appreciably. They made their way across a dark, dingy maintenance tunnel. This would, according to Bili, lead to the first of a series of maintenance cars. Marek decided to break the oppressive silence.
‘I never realized how much the bio machinery actually did for us. I mean, they even supply light that we don’t notice. Look at this godforsaken place. I can’t even see what I’m stepping through.’
Even Bili could not bring herself to say anything in response. A little while later they found the first maintenance car. It was a plain cuboidal box that moved on a dedicated set of metallic tracks. It did not have too much by way of furniture, and could only accommodate three people with difficulty. Further conversation was stifled as they fell promptly asleep after setting the car on its way. They travelled in two more cars in a similar fashion, wondering, during their infrequent waking moments, if the lack of any significant obstacles thus far would manifest itself in one major catastrophe.
Their fourth and final car juddered to a halt midway through its journey, jolting them awake. Immediately they knew that something was wrong. There was too little light – in their earlier journeys there had always been enough light to read a book by. Now they could barely see each other’s faces. It was also cold, bitingly so. Peering through the tiny window in the wall of the car, they could see that something dark and fuzzy completely obscured their path.
‘What do we do?’ Marek asked slowly.
‘We could go back… The car can go either direction. Besides, I don’t think we can go further.’ Bili responded in a way that left no doubt as to what her choice was.
‘No.’ To everyone’s surprise, it was Fisek who said this. ‘I think we are close, very close to the surface. These are just little tests that we need to pass before we are deemed worthy to see the signs.’ As Bili and Marek looked shocked, Fisek added bracingly, ‘I was just winding you up. Besides, it is only now that our adventure is starting. Wake up, you poltroons, put on your suits and let’s be on our way.’
They stepped out of the car and into a dim light, whose source they could not trace. The entity that had blocked their car did not look quite so perfectly black now. The heightened illumination highlighted brilliant shades of green, red and yellow. A slight breeze played on their faces, and set several somethings within the dark mass aflutter. Meanwhile, Fisek seemed to have shaken off the stupor that had possessed him throughout the journey. He enthusiastically moved forward to study the entity. Presently, his voice came back to them, echoing in the enclosed space.
‘I don’t believe this. This stuff is bio machinery! It’s just gone a bit out of control, that’s all. Still it is bio machinery, and it should be harmless to humans.’ Before either of Marek and Bili could say anything, he stepped into the dark mass and disappeared. They waited for a while, but he did not appear. Closer up, the dark mass seemed much more like a giant trap to swallow unwitting humans. Slowly, unwillingly, they stepped into it.
Marek could feel a thousand little somethings brush past his suit, feather light in their touch but not really uncomfortable. Perhaps it was only his imagination but he could feel an acute intelligence emanating from the entity. He fancied that it was a slow, brooding creature that was contemplating impassively whether to let them pass. A gentle whispering played back in his suit’s speakers. It was most likely the breeze ruffling the ‘leaves’ (as he had mentally christened the fluttering things), but once more he fancied a sentience within the dark mass. It was talking to him now. He could not see anything at all; it was as if he was all alone in a private universe of dark colours, soft sounds and pleasurable touches. Bili had only been a foot ahead of him in the beginning, but he had no idea how far ahead she was now.
The ‘forest’ seemed to stretch interminably. Marek had long since lost the capacity for thought, and was only putting one foot in front of the other mechanically. Then, suddenly, his foot stepped into empty space. He flailed wildly, but the dark mass around him parted easily and offered no support. As he fell forwards, the forest cleared abruptly, and he noticed a ledge only a foot in front of him, but at a slightly higher elevation. He stuck out a hand, and ignoring the sharp pain of impact, firmly grasped the top of the ledge. He clambered over painfully using the last reserves of his physical energy and passed out on the hard tunnel floor.
He woke up to voices nearby. Bili’s and Fisek’s. A moment of incoherence ensued, before his brain recovered and pumped his system with a heavy shot of giddy joy. They were alive! All of a sudden he too felt Fisek’s conviction. They were close. It wouldn’t be long. Bili and Fisek noticed that he was awake and they hugged each other tightly, never before closer to each other than they were now.
‘We had been studying the maps while you were asleep.’ Bili announced. ‘I think we are near what the Azustra calls the porthole. It is a sort of chamber that connects our underground environment to the surface’s. It should theoretically link directly to the ground level, but we suspect that the entrance might be clogged up.’
‘By the way,’ Fisek said a little sadly, ‘we only have an hour and a half left on our suits. Returning to the tunnels in time will be hard.’
Marek did not listen. An overpowering feeling of recklessness swept over him; he desired nothing more than to carry on and finish the task. Looking at the eager expressions on his friends’ faces, he suspected that they too were feeling the same way. As they made their way through the tunnel, a thought occurred to Marek.
‘The tunnel was broken, wasn’t it? I am not sure if I dreamed it, but I thought I saw molten rock in the gap between the ledge and the forest.’
‘Forest… Interesting term… Apt, though.’ Fisek seemed to roll the word in his head and emerge with a favourable appraisal. ‘I think the plate movement stuff the Azustra goes on and on about must have broken through this tunnel. In fact I suspect that it is the fracture that caused the bio machinery to multiply uncontrollably and clog the tunnel.’
Presently they reached a dead end. The tunnel had long since given way to a more cave like structure; one that sloped gently upwards and had rough rock walls. They had been travelling for an hour, and the patiently rising path had only served to whet their rapidly growing enthusiasm. They physically felt the ground getting nearer with each step. Now they found themselves facing a blank wall, and their suits would only last for a measly thirty more minutes. The three of them sunk to the floor in despair, desperately tired, but too scared to sleep. But Bili noticed something that got them excited once more.
‘What’s that vague scratching noise I hear?’ She cuffed Marek hard around the head to draw his attention. The expression of morbidity on his face gave way to excitement as he too caught the noise.
‘There is nothing inside the cave that can cause that noise.’ Marek said rhetorically. ‘Unless of course the rocks are less stupid than they look and are actually talking to us,’ he added in a brave stab at humour. ‘That means that the sound is coming from the surface.’
The portion of the cave roof nearest the dead end wall rose only a couple of feet above the ground. Marek and Bili squeezed into the cramped space there, and began to dig at the roof furiously with their gloved hands. Fisek seemed to have been worst hit by exhaustion, and lay on the floor nearby, not moving, but not asleep. In a matter of minutes, their scrabbling fingers broke through the mud and into open air.
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There was a star in the sky. It was very, very big; it was so large that its disc covered a third of the sky in one direction. But it was not as hot it should have been. It wasn’t bright enough. It was too big! Wispy clouds waded through a bright blue atmosphere. A rusty signpost swung creakily near the entrance of the porthole. It said, ‘Welcome back!’
‘It’s the divine light.’ Fisek spoke in awestruck tones. For once, Marek did not disagree. They had been walking for a long time. The world around them was nothing like their home. Everything seemed to be in constant flux: the ubiquitous sand, the air and the suspended water particles moved around them restlessly. Their suits had been long since been discarded – the air outside was so much fresher. They had seen something glitter in the distance, and had set off towards it. Now they could see that it was a water body. They peered into its murky depths hopefully, but nothing moved. Earth was ready but Life was late to the party, apparently.
‘And the divine light shall free us from oppression. We will rise and reclaim what is our own.’ Fisek intoned quietly. Marek and Bili had gone to study a strange looking instrument that lay half buried in the sand. It looked vaguely familiar. Rifling through the Azustra, Bili quickly identified what it was. It was a habitability probe. Even after carefully comparing the diagram with the original, they could not identify anything obvious that would have stopped it from doing its job. Then it occurred to them that they really did not know what it was supposed to do. All that the Azustra told them was that it would give an appropriate signal. Marek laughed loudly. Never before had he appreciated how similar the two books sometimes were. All three of them lay down on the soft sand, and fell into a carefree sleep.
The Earth watched, as glad as she could ever be, as her favourite children returned to her surface. In what would be a blink of an eye to her, they would rapidly re-colonize the planet. The alien star whose diminished light warmed the surface would fuel the rapid spread of life, and the planet would be green once more. The Earth, thanks to her long memory, knew something the humans did not. The alien sun that had infused her with a new life was remarkably similar to the thing that had brutally scorched her surface all those years ago. It too was not of this universe; it peeked through a thinning of the veils between universes, a thinning that diminished its ferocious intensity to acceptable levels. But something about the uncanny coincidence worried her immense sentience. Why was it here at all?
You can also read it here and here.
When the end came, no one was ready for it.
A slow, staid, patient Earth was rudely interrupted from her ceaseless plodding by something extraordinary, something inexplicable. A chasm had opened up near the edge of the Solar System. It was a rift in space time that would, perhaps, not stand out among the many similar scars the Universe heedlessly sports; nonetheless, it would go on to ravage the spinning rocks that huddled under the light of an average star.
The Earth watched as the little scratch rapidly evolved into a tear. Not in the least bit fussy, it feasted on an endless supply of edibles nearby, eventually becoming so engorged that it started spewing material back into the Solar System. More than a cosmic perversion of excretion, this material, which was almost completely radiation, was a harbinger of death. Spectacular planet-wide storms that could fit a hundred of herself raged across the gas giants. The Earth did her bit in trying to stir up the scurrying ants- freak storms lashed the surface; brutal levels of heat and radiation almost physically pushed back the inhabitants into their dwellings. It did not work. The little people who had built structures millions of times their own size, and had looked into the distant furnace of the birth of the Universe, could not feel the pulse of their own planet. The weather remained a tempestuous beast, and resisted all attempts at domestication. Global warming had once brought the planet to its knees- yet no lessons were learnt. Perhaps they could never be. Meteorologists mumbled about ‘cyclical unpredictability’, a phrase that did not require too much skill at deciphering jargon to identify ignorance. But the human race was too far along, too heady with the knowledge of its own superiority to notice anything wrong. Even fearful whispers that tried to resurrect the ghost of global warming were ignored. That was about when the ozone layer started evaporating.
A dispirited Earth had perhaps underestimated the sheer tenacity of this species. This was after all the same creature that through thick headedness, and occasional well-intentioned stupidity reduced most other creatures to museum artefacts. Human scientists predicted that in five hundred years, a combination of radiation, heat and floods would make the planet uninhabitable. To the Earth’s exasperation, the little people only viewed this as another engineering challenge. They would go underground. They would seal themselves off from the harmful environment outside.
They would launch the Earth out of the Solar System.
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In a roughly circular room, whose walls were mostly transparent except for the section which served as the writing board, sat around twenty people. With some difficulty you could perhaps identify that these were the same human beings that had once swarmed the planet. But evolution, and hundreds of generations underground had been harsh on them. They were tall and gangly in a way that would have seemed painful to surface human beings. They had pale, waxy skins, negligible hair, and fragile, almost child like limbs. You could immediately see that they were not physical people; they had an innate economy of movement that seemed closer to plants than animals. All but two pairs of eyes looked up as the prayer reader sedately walked into the room, swept clutter off the solitary desk, and opened the Zustra. One of these indifferent pairs of eyes belonged to a young man called Marek. He slouched as low as possible in the stiff backed chair and tried hard not to listen to the prayer reader’s monotone. Everything the man said seemed to repeat itself eventually. Today the reader spoke about the divine light, an otherworldly illumination that would save them all from a meaningless existence. Under the pretext of stifling a yawn, he raised a slow hand to his mouth, and from underneath, grinned at a woman two rows away.
This woman, who was known as Bili, had been on several occasions on the verge of dozing off, only just managing to rouse herself each time. She had stolen a handful of surreptitious glances at Marek. Each time he had appeared to have been staring ahead with fierce concentration, a posture which she knew meant the exact opposite. Presently she saw him grin at her, and slowly crook one of his fingers over his thumb in a characteristic gesture. She returned it, and both of them turned to look at the third of their group, a tall, thin (even for them), solemn young man who was sitting in the row closest to the reader. They never could understand Fisek’s fascination with the Zustra; they were alike in so many ways, but Fisek’s obstinate desire to see good in their holy book amused and frustrated them. There was no way they would be able to catch his attention now. They went back to carefully ignoring the reader.
'It has been foretold that a time will come when we will no longer cower under the soil like worms, but rise and reclaim what is our own. There will be signs, yes. The Lord will tell us when we are ready…'
A couple of hours later, the three of them were making their way through a little tunnel that led to their housings. Fisek was unusually cheerful.
‘What about the plan to break in? Don’t you think we should do it today? I know that sentry – he’s a jolly friendly chap. I can talk him into taking a walk with me, I think.”
Marek and Bili looked at each other for a moment, before loudly complaining that, yes, the plan was on, and he would have known it too, if he had not been so busy sucking up to the reader. Nothing could dampen Fisek’s spirits today, though. He had asked a question in the prayer session that the reader had called ‘delightfully profound’. He chose to ignore the barb, and hastily began to formulate plans for their latest adventure.
'Today’s perfect, you know. Even Grandfather won’t be around. Today’s the sleeping day for him.’ Marek said with undisguised glee – his grandfather was known for his age-defyingly keen eyes that had scuppered many an ingenious plan. Bili nodded assent, pointing out that her parents were away on some repair work. While Fisek did not agree outwardly, the fact that he did not disagree, the others knew, was as close to consent as he could get. They thrashed out the final structure of the plan – they would leave just after lunch, when everyone would be resting. They would take the infrequently used tunnel coach, and get down as close to the Temple as possible. As for what they would do next, they came to the conclusion that planning too far ahead was about as useful as trying to dig their way to heaven, and would cross that bridge when it came.
‘I am starving, you know. And we need to rest before we go to the Temple.’ Marek said cautiously. The others frowned but said nothing; lunch was a real chore, and a painful one at that. Human beings’ physical strength had atrophied to such an extent that having food had become a protracted process. Eating too fast, or eating too much was very dangerous and could even result in death; even with sufficient restraint most people required a rest after the action. Marek often joked, to Fisek’s indignation, that the only thing humans did was pray, sleep, have food, sleep, pray, sleep and so on in an endless cycle. Sex was strictly monitored by the administrative council. Again it was an act that could severely exhaust a person; it could only be done with proper legal consent.
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The Temple was a strange thing, seemingly out of place in the world of these underground creatures. It was built of brick, not rock like the other structures; it stood over thirty feet in height, towering over the other structures which rarely, if ever, had more than two levels. The little aerial that poked upwards from the terrace was its highest point; it was so high up, that it was rumoured that standing on it, you could touch the tunnel roof with your outstretched hand. There was another thing about this structure that was unique. It was not spherical. In fact it had a distinct bilinear symmetry which many of its visitors found disconcerting.
Physical distinction is one thing, but the truly remarkable feature of the Temple was that no one really knew what it was for. It was like an outcast that was shunned not out of revulsion, but a fear borne of religion. Most people believed that it was haunted – there were numerous popular stories of how glory seekers had unaccountably perished within its mysterious confines. Youth has an incorrigible recklessness that it wears with pride; Marek, Fisek and Bili had always mentally classified all such tales under the ‘superstition’ column.
‘You know, I am not sure the sentry will take kindly to seeing you two there.’ Fisek pointed out. ‘He knows me, I’ve been here a couple of times, and he thinks that I’m a bit of a vagrant, but a harmless one. I don’t think he’ll think the same of you.’ He winked to take the seriousness out of his words.
Therefore a nervous (and relieved) Marek, and an excitable Bili crouched behind a rock while Fisek walked with what he evidently thought was a casual gait towards the sentry. The sentry looked rather terse and suspicious, and just when the two began to wonder if they would have to do something to rescue Fisek, the sentry cracked a sneaky smile and walked away with him. As they hastened towards the entrance a thought occurred to Bili.
‘What if it’s locked?’
Marek swore colourfully, but there wasn’t too much time to think of an alternative plan. On reaching the rather battered door of the Temple, they noticed that it did not even have a latch. Bili mentally thanked the Zustra and its authors for foisting such a convenient superstition on the populace; it did not for a second occur to either of them that the place might actually be dangerous. The door creaked rustily open.
The room was full of books. Many were stacked in gigantic piles, some even rising twenty feet into the air and appearing to merge with the rafters high above. Others were strewn across the floor chaotically. Even the disorder did not quite manage to give the impression of recent use. What felt like centuries of hardened grit completely muffled their footsteps, and every book was covered with a uniform dust coating. Marek tried to step over the piles, but there were so many that he gave up, and tried not to look at what he was walking through. He felt slightly dizzy; the only book he had ever seen in his life was the printed version of the Zustra, and that too only once. Bili, though seemed to have recovered quickly and was already rifling through a moderate sized pile. She picked out several titles that did not mean anything to her (‘An Evolutionary Study of Butterflies’, ‘In Defence of War’, ‘The Impending Asteroid Catastrophe’), before picking out an exceptionally thick tome called, ‘The Great Project’. Tucking it under her arm, she decided to go and check if Fisek and his new friend were on their way back. They had walked away in the opposite direction to the door; so she stepped out, walked to the edge of the front wall and stuck one careful eye beyond.
To her absolute shock they were only a few feet away. What saved her was the fact the sentry was not looking ahead at that point; he was staring into Fisek’s solemn face, rapt. Fisek, though, saw her, and started. The sentry noticed this, and made an unconscious motion as if to face ahead. Fisek reacted instinctively. He hugged the older man tightly, completely obscuring his view. Bili dashed back into the Temple and dragged a bemused Marek outside. They sprinted like they’d never done before. Their chests complained, and their legs felt like they were on fire, but they were too frightened to stop. They only looked back after reaching the rock, managing a momentary glimpse of Fisek before they fainted from sheer exhaustion.
Bili woke first, into an anxious face that was only a few inches away. Fisek moved away hurriedly, embarrassed, and also a little relieved.
‘So he didn’t see us then.’ Bili said rhetorically. Then something occurred to her, something that had been bothering her from even before she had stepped into the Temple.
‘What exactly did you tell that sentry, that he became all chummy?’
‘Oh that.’ Fisek looked embarrassed once more. ‘I just told him that I knew a good spot for illegal sex.’
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The only book that the trio managed to salvage from their adventure turned out to be a very useful one. It was a book unlike anything they had ever seen. It did not seem to trust itself; every time it made an assertion it offered bundles of facts, figures and quotations to back it up. It primarily detailed the chronological development of an underground network of habitable tunnels to save the human race from what it called the ‘Quantum Anomaly.’ It took a while for them to realize that the book was talking about them, or at least their ancestors, and even longer to see that the Zustra was itself based on this story.
The Earth watched the scurrying ants delve deeper and deeper towards her core. Geologists identified isothermal contours under the Earth’s surface up to two hundred kilometres below the Earth’s crust. That was the easy bit. The difficult part was to map the whole of the Earth’s plate tectonic system so as to find the most stable areas to build the habitation tunnels in. Any such mapping can only be correct to a certain degree, and so the scientists backed up their data with heavy redundancy. There would be at least three independent tunnel paths connecting any two habitable zones. The provision of air, food and water stumped them for a while. Any form of mechanical machinery would not do. The most optimistic estimates predicted a million year journey for the planet, and no mechanical machine could run that long. They needed self-sustaining systems that could, given enough time, repair themselves to perfection. For the first time in their brief history, humans did something that appealed to the watching Earth; they turned to nature. The humble animal cell, they realized, was a spectacularly robust self-sustaining system that put to shame any of their own creations. An era of bioengineering ensued, with impressive results. A hierarchical and completely closed food web comprising an assortment of manufactured bacteria, algae and fungi was built. This miniature ecosystem was then assimilated into wafer thin layers of bio machinery that could ingest the abundant rocky matter in the Earth’s crust and mantle, and expel oxygen and water vapour. The tunnels themselves were organized in a roughly spiral fashion. Interconnecting maintenance tunnels and steeper arms that connected two isotherms broke the pattern at regular intervals. Every tunnel was coated with layers of bio machinery that tried to do away with human intervention as much as possible. Temperature control to a certain extent was possible; but exoduses to higher or lower temperature habitable zones would be inevitable. Meanwhile, the Earth began to wither and die as the relentless heat and radiation took its toll. Still she watched the humans, their bluster and new found purpose, and hoped that they could still rescue her. The little people sweated for several generations over the problem of how to eject the Earth from the Solar System, before they hit upon a deceptively simple solution.
They blew up the Sun.
‘They got it wrong, you know.’ Marek did not have to refer to the book (which they had dubbed the ‘Azustra’) to let them know what he was talking about. They had discussed nothing else during the three months since their last adventure.
‘They thought that they had to build the perfect system that would eliminate the need for human operators. All that it did was make technological innovation redundant, and us how we are today. Timid, slow-witted and steeped in ignorance.’
Fisek was not prepared to forego his love for the Zustra. ‘The Zustra says that a massive famine hit the first pilgrims. I am willing to bet that the first underground dwellers suffered a severe food shortage. Perhaps, the machines did not work as expected. Or maybe there was a fight. Whatever it was, I think the problem was not fixed, and we adapted to lesser quantities of food, with the end result that we became such languorous creatures.’
Bili who never had too much patience was debates piped up, ‘I think it’s time we went on our next adventure.’ She paused, taking in the tolerant smile on Fisek’s face, and the carefully concealed excitement on Marek’s, and said, ‘You gave me the idea you know, with your stupid machismo arguments that prove nothing and mean nothing. I think we should go to the Earth’s surface.’
Marek laughed derisively, while Fisek attempted to launch into a measured counter-argument. But Bili loudly cut through their voices, and said, ‘The Azustra has a detailed map of all the underground tunnels. Tunnel coaches should take us to up to within five kilometres. And then on I think we can follow the maintenance tunnels all the way to the surface.’
Marek looked stunned and lost for words, while Fisek looked stunned and eager to speak. ‘How do you know all this?’ he asked her quickly.
‘My parents inspect the tunnels, you know. They tell me all about it.’ Noticing the smirk on Marek’s face, she added, ‘You may find it hard to believe, but the old people know a few things too. Anyway, from my parents’ description of the last habitable zone, the connecting tunnel we used for the exodus, and the current habitable zone, I think I have a fairly good idea as to where we are in relation to the Earth’s surface.’
Now Fisek seemed lost for words. Marek gave an admiring whoop and gave her a brief hug, saying, ‘And here I thought we would spend the rest of our lives telling our grandchildren how, in our greatest adventure, we fainted behind a rock, scared of a guy who was looking for illegal sex.’ Bili let out an involuntary giggle. Fisek, though, looked thoughtful and did not smile.
‘We could actually die here.’ Fisek said in a hushed tone. ‘This is not a silly break in, where the worst that thing that could happen would be that we would be denied food for some time. The Azustra says that the surface is a poisonous pit deadly to all forms of life. The Zustra says that we will receive some sign, something that will tell us that we can go back to the surface. I don’t think we should go.’
Bili and Marek looked at each other. It had been like this for some time. The Azustra seemed to have the opposite effect on Fisek as it did on them. It made him withdraw more into himself and become even more cautious than usual. This change in his demeanour unconsciously modified their response to Fisek’s statements. They would feel an irrational urge to do the exact opposite of what Fisek said, despite any evident logic. They reacted this way once more. Separately, and mentally, they confirmed that they would indeed go on this adventure even if it ended up killing them. Friendship, however quickly doused any rebellious flames, and they sat down to try and convince him to change his mind.
‘My parents use these suits when they go into the higher tunnels. They provide a breathable environment for five hours and maintain a constant temperature and pressure. I reckon they should work on the surface.’ Bili said, with Marek nodding vigorous assent. Fisek looked unconvinced.
‘Look,’ Marek added with a look of great solidarity, ‘I know it’s a scary thing. But I thought that was what we lived for. I promise that if we make it out of this alive, we will never go on an adventure again.’ Fisek looked slightly mollified, and Marek continued, ‘I just remembered one more thing. The Azustra spoke of habitability probes on the surface that would tell us when the Earth reached a habitable zone. Perhaps this is what the Zustra means by the divine signs. Maybe the probes have broken down; or maybe we have forgotten how to interpret the signals. Anyway, my point is that the probes may already be telling us something, and we don’t know it yet.’
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Fisek had not spoken a word during the three hour coach journey. Marek and Bili had started off brightly, with Marek’s wittiness apparently fuelled by the thought of imminent danger, but they had quietened down fast. Their stolen suits had, unsurprisingly, not fit them well at all, but even the extreme discomfort did not loosen their tongues appreciably. They made their way across a dark, dingy maintenance tunnel. This would, according to Bili, lead to the first of a series of maintenance cars. Marek decided to break the oppressive silence.
‘I never realized how much the bio machinery actually did for us. I mean, they even supply light that we don’t notice. Look at this godforsaken place. I can’t even see what I’m stepping through.’
Even Bili could not bring herself to say anything in response. A little while later they found the first maintenance car. It was a plain cuboidal box that moved on a dedicated set of metallic tracks. It did not have too much by way of furniture, and could only accommodate three people with difficulty. Further conversation was stifled as they fell promptly asleep after setting the car on its way. They travelled in two more cars in a similar fashion, wondering, during their infrequent waking moments, if the lack of any significant obstacles thus far would manifest itself in one major catastrophe.
Their fourth and final car juddered to a halt midway through its journey, jolting them awake. Immediately they knew that something was wrong. There was too little light – in their earlier journeys there had always been enough light to read a book by. Now they could barely see each other’s faces. It was also cold, bitingly so. Peering through the tiny window in the wall of the car, they could see that something dark and fuzzy completely obscured their path.
‘What do we do?’ Marek asked slowly.
‘We could go back… The car can go either direction. Besides, I don’t think we can go further.’ Bili responded in a way that left no doubt as to what her choice was.
‘No.’ To everyone’s surprise, it was Fisek who said this. ‘I think we are close, very close to the surface. These are just little tests that we need to pass before we are deemed worthy to see the signs.’ As Bili and Marek looked shocked, Fisek added bracingly, ‘I was just winding you up. Besides, it is only now that our adventure is starting. Wake up, you poltroons, put on your suits and let’s be on our way.’
They stepped out of the car and into a dim light, whose source they could not trace. The entity that had blocked their car did not look quite so perfectly black now. The heightened illumination highlighted brilliant shades of green, red and yellow. A slight breeze played on their faces, and set several somethings within the dark mass aflutter. Meanwhile, Fisek seemed to have shaken off the stupor that had possessed him throughout the journey. He enthusiastically moved forward to study the entity. Presently, his voice came back to them, echoing in the enclosed space.
‘I don’t believe this. This stuff is bio machinery! It’s just gone a bit out of control, that’s all. Still it is bio machinery, and it should be harmless to humans.’ Before either of Marek and Bili could say anything, he stepped into the dark mass and disappeared. They waited for a while, but he did not appear. Closer up, the dark mass seemed much more like a giant trap to swallow unwitting humans. Slowly, unwillingly, they stepped into it.
Marek could feel a thousand little somethings brush past his suit, feather light in their touch but not really uncomfortable. Perhaps it was only his imagination but he could feel an acute intelligence emanating from the entity. He fancied that it was a slow, brooding creature that was contemplating impassively whether to let them pass. A gentle whispering played back in his suit’s speakers. It was most likely the breeze ruffling the ‘leaves’ (as he had mentally christened the fluttering things), but once more he fancied a sentience within the dark mass. It was talking to him now. He could not see anything at all; it was as if he was all alone in a private universe of dark colours, soft sounds and pleasurable touches. Bili had only been a foot ahead of him in the beginning, but he had no idea how far ahead she was now.
The ‘forest’ seemed to stretch interminably. Marek had long since lost the capacity for thought, and was only putting one foot in front of the other mechanically. Then, suddenly, his foot stepped into empty space. He flailed wildly, but the dark mass around him parted easily and offered no support. As he fell forwards, the forest cleared abruptly, and he noticed a ledge only a foot in front of him, but at a slightly higher elevation. He stuck out a hand, and ignoring the sharp pain of impact, firmly grasped the top of the ledge. He clambered over painfully using the last reserves of his physical energy and passed out on the hard tunnel floor.
He woke up to voices nearby. Bili’s and Fisek’s. A moment of incoherence ensued, before his brain recovered and pumped his system with a heavy shot of giddy joy. They were alive! All of a sudden he too felt Fisek’s conviction. They were close. It wouldn’t be long. Bili and Fisek noticed that he was awake and they hugged each other tightly, never before closer to each other than they were now.
‘We had been studying the maps while you were asleep.’ Bili announced. ‘I think we are near what the Azustra calls the porthole. It is a sort of chamber that connects our underground environment to the surface’s. It should theoretically link directly to the ground level, but we suspect that the entrance might be clogged up.’
‘By the way,’ Fisek said a little sadly, ‘we only have an hour and a half left on our suits. Returning to the tunnels in time will be hard.’
Marek did not listen. An overpowering feeling of recklessness swept over him; he desired nothing more than to carry on and finish the task. Looking at the eager expressions on his friends’ faces, he suspected that they too were feeling the same way. As they made their way through the tunnel, a thought occurred to Marek.
‘The tunnel was broken, wasn’t it? I am not sure if I dreamed it, but I thought I saw molten rock in the gap between the ledge and the forest.’
‘Forest… Interesting term… Apt, though.’ Fisek seemed to roll the word in his head and emerge with a favourable appraisal. ‘I think the plate movement stuff the Azustra goes on and on about must have broken through this tunnel. In fact I suspect that it is the fracture that caused the bio machinery to multiply uncontrollably and clog the tunnel.’
Presently they reached a dead end. The tunnel had long since given way to a more cave like structure; one that sloped gently upwards and had rough rock walls. They had been travelling for an hour, and the patiently rising path had only served to whet their rapidly growing enthusiasm. They physically felt the ground getting nearer with each step. Now they found themselves facing a blank wall, and their suits would only last for a measly thirty more minutes. The three of them sunk to the floor in despair, desperately tired, but too scared to sleep. But Bili noticed something that got them excited once more.
‘What’s that vague scratching noise I hear?’ She cuffed Marek hard around the head to draw his attention. The expression of morbidity on his face gave way to excitement as he too caught the noise.
‘There is nothing inside the cave that can cause that noise.’ Marek said rhetorically. ‘Unless of course the rocks are less stupid than they look and are actually talking to us,’ he added in a brave stab at humour. ‘That means that the sound is coming from the surface.’
The portion of the cave roof nearest the dead end wall rose only a couple of feet above the ground. Marek and Bili squeezed into the cramped space there, and began to dig at the roof furiously with their gloved hands. Fisek seemed to have been worst hit by exhaustion, and lay on the floor nearby, not moving, but not asleep. In a matter of minutes, their scrabbling fingers broke through the mud and into open air.
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There was a star in the sky. It was very, very big; it was so large that its disc covered a third of the sky in one direction. But it was not as hot it should have been. It wasn’t bright enough. It was too big! Wispy clouds waded through a bright blue atmosphere. A rusty signpost swung creakily near the entrance of the porthole. It said, ‘Welcome back!’
‘It’s the divine light.’ Fisek spoke in awestruck tones. For once, Marek did not disagree. They had been walking for a long time. The world around them was nothing like their home. Everything seemed to be in constant flux: the ubiquitous sand, the air and the suspended water particles moved around them restlessly. Their suits had been long since been discarded – the air outside was so much fresher. They had seen something glitter in the distance, and had set off towards it. Now they could see that it was a water body. They peered into its murky depths hopefully, but nothing moved. Earth was ready but Life was late to the party, apparently.
‘And the divine light shall free us from oppression. We will rise and reclaim what is our own.’ Fisek intoned quietly. Marek and Bili had gone to study a strange looking instrument that lay half buried in the sand. It looked vaguely familiar. Rifling through the Azustra, Bili quickly identified what it was. It was a habitability probe. Even after carefully comparing the diagram with the original, they could not identify anything obvious that would have stopped it from doing its job. Then it occurred to them that they really did not know what it was supposed to do. All that the Azustra told them was that it would give an appropriate signal. Marek laughed loudly. Never before had he appreciated how similar the two books sometimes were. All three of them lay down on the soft sand, and fell into a carefree sleep.
The Earth watched, as glad as she could ever be, as her favourite children returned to her surface. In what would be a blink of an eye to her, they would rapidly re-colonize the planet. The alien star whose diminished light warmed the surface would fuel the rapid spread of life, and the planet would be green once more. The Earth, thanks to her long memory, knew something the humans did not. The alien sun that had infused her with a new life was remarkably similar to the thing that had brutally scorched her surface all those years ago. It too was not of this universe; it peeked through a thinning of the veils between universes, a thinning that diminished its ferocious intensity to acceptable levels. But something about the uncanny coincidence worried her immense sentience. Why was it here at all?
You can also read it here and here.
