Button in the Fabric of Time (10 page)

I watched as Jan-3 touched the menu, ordering
the meal. The sights, the sounds, and the fragrances were all new
and exotic. Now I understood how a baby feels seeing the world for
the first time. I was dining with the most beautiful woman I had
ever seen, but even her beauty wasn’t enough to completely hold my
attention, with so many unusual things to distract me. Before I
even had time to wonder when our food would be coming, a mechanical
apparatus lowered our plates onto the table. The plates were
garnished with flowers and pleasant- smelling herbs. The food was
delicious, my companion was delightful, and the ambiance was
exciting. How could a man want more than this?

The persons or robots that prepared the food
were never seen but the restaurant was crowded with workers, some
of whom came to our table, wanting to talk. A few spoke broken
English, but most spoke a language I couldn’t understand, so Jan-3
translated.

After they left, I asked her, “What language
were they speaking?”

The language is called “Terresta.” It’s the
language common to people all around the world. Like our music, the
language is mathematically based. It isn’t as expressive as
English, but the words are easier to form into sentences, and there
are no synonyms or antonyms; therefore, the sentences state more
clearly what the speaker intends to say.”

“How long will it take me to learn to speak
Terresta?”

“Once you understand the mathematics of the
language, it’s easy. English requires the use of twenty-six
letters, while there are only ten numbers in our numerical system.
You only need to learn ten sounds and symbols to speak or write
Terresta. Each symbol has its own sound and can be combined with
other symbols to create other sounds, similar to using letters in
the English alphabet. We combine symbols, and then add numbers to
make it possible to write or speak millions of words. At times, we
incorporate words from other languages to make Terresta more
colorful and descriptive. It’s surprisingly simple. I’ll instruct
you.”

“Thank you. I’ll try to be a good pupil, but
first, I’d like to see where these workers live. I know that not
everybody can have an apartment with an ocean view.”

“You’re right. Most people live in the
interior of the city, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t have a
view, or that the interior dwellings are undesirable.” She began
walking to the keri. “Come, I’ll show you.”

Each floor of the residential areas was so
tall that our keri and thousands of others moved easily and
silently above the homes and private areas of the residents. People
were walking, working, playing, and doing what people do in
neighborhoods everywhere. The spaces between the dwellings were
lined with flowers, shrubs, and trees. Fountains and ponds were
joined by streams, making it appear to be a rural setting. Children
played while their watchful parents talked to friends. It was good
to see that some were seated in quiet nooks, reading fiction on
electronic devices.

“What kind of writing are they reading?” I
asked.

“Some read for education, others for pleasure
and entertainment. Women seem to prefer romance novels, while most
men would rather read adventure stories.”

“What kind of adventures do authors write
about in the thirty-first century?”

“Authors write of peoples’ struggles to build
and maintain their homes and cities where areas are still being
developed. Some readers like novels about adventures and
discoveries during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Women
like to read about interesting, exciting men taking them away to
some exotic place.”

“I’m glad to hear that that hasn’t changed. .
. . I’d like to sit awhile and observe the people. It will help me
understand them.”

We stopped the keri and stepped out onto a
platform, which lowered us to floor level. I saw a bench under a
tree beside a stream.

“Let’s sit there,” I proposed.

We sat quietly for a while watching and
listening. From the floor level, the neighborhood looked like many
of the upscale neighborhood of cities in my time, except that these
dwellings were made of glass, which was incorporated into the
city’s total structure. There was more of a “community” feeling
here than there was in most twenty-first century city
neighborhoods. People seemed to interact well, and everything was
immaculate. If anyone dropped an item, that person immediately
picked it up and placed it in a container.

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

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

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

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

“What was especially interesting about that
time?”

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

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

* * * * *

Chapter 14

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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