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Steve and Dan were trudging through the ruins of Metropolis Central Square, the once-bustling heart of the city now reduced to fallen debris and shattered dreams. There was not much they could say.
Suddenly, a shower of dust fell from am dangerously tilted wall and Dan cried out to his partner.
"Steve! Look out! It's going to fall!"
The two men started running as the wall began to crumble behind them. The stones fell with a great reverberating crash, sending up a cloud of choking dust that filled the deserted square. Several objects had been jarred loose from surrounding buildings and fallen to the shattered plaza with crunches and thuds.
"Down there!" Steve said, pointing into the now partly revealed subway entrance. "We can....."
The sound of a second falling load of debris drowned out Steve as the two men stumbled through the billowing dust down into the subway. It was almost choked with litter and rubble, but they climbed quickly over these obstacles and into the dubious shelter of the tunnel.
The light was dim, but became slightly better as the dust settled. There were cracks in the ceiling that emitted a very dim light, but most of the tunnel was in darkness. The floor was covered with silt, evidently washed by rain coming through the cracked dome over the city, or from some distant broken water main in the past. The platform directional posters--UPTOWN and DOWNTOWN---had long ago rotted away without a trace, and the tiles along the tunnel wall were cracked and missing.
Standing almost in front of them was a subway train, its middle cars buckled and derailed by the sudden halt and the debris fallen against the lead cars. Steve and Dan looked through the dirty glass windows of the first car and saw what appeared to be several skeletons, tangled together.
Steve walked to the end of the train, looking in at the mangled skeletons of surprised commuters. Beyond the last car stretched the subway rails---de-electrified now---unbroken into the dark spaces beyond. At the end of the broken and tilting subway platform, beyond the last death car, sat a rusted handcar. Steve was examining it as Dan came up to hi.
"It's rusted," Steve said, "but I think this handcar might work." He looked up and around. "If we only had some oil....."
Dan pointed at a rectangle in the end wall of the platform. "Isn't that a maintenance locker?"
He pushed aside the rotting remains of the once-locked doors. Steve heard the clatter of cans and metal, then a whoop of joy from Dan.
"Hey, a five-gallon can of oil!"
Steve heard the squeak of a lid being pried open, then Dan's exclamation.
"Looks like a couple of gallons left!"
Carefully, Dan carried the container of oil over to the handcar. Its rusted bottom was already starting to fall apart, leaking oil rapidly.
"Hold it over the machinery!" Steve said.
Oil dripped onto the rusting arms and wheels of the simple mechanism railroad-type handcar and Steve began to work the handles.
"We're lucky this is a real oldie," he said, "and not one of the electric kind. It's a simple push-pull lever mechanism---Watch it!"
The can now gave way with a splash and drenched the machinery in sludge.
Quickly, Steve wiped at the machine, forcing the reluctant parts to move and admit the oil. In only a few moments, he had managed to make the protesting machine move.
He grinned at Steve. "Now we can go places!"
Dan looked surprised. "Where? This whole town is in ruins. The city is dead!"
"The subway goes all over. Even if there are blockages, we might be able to go around by alternate routes or different lines."
"But why? To see if it's dead?"
"Let's go uptown to the Museum of Natural History or the Metropolis Historical Society. They might have a history of what happened, if somebody survived for a time. Or tools; weapons! The library was in ruins and probably the paper all burnt or rotted away, but a museum might have something we can use!"
"You're right," Dan said, looking off into the blackness of the subway tunnel. "But we're going to need light. Torches, maybe. I'll rustle up something and some way to set them on fire."
"And I'll get this old monster working."
Dan started back up the platform, then hesitated. "Listen, the tracks...."
Steve shrugged.
Steve shrugged. "High-quality steel. Rusty, but probably passable, since we don't weigh the same as a whole train."
"Unless the bottom of the tunnel has rotted away.....Unless our vibrations bring down more much on our heads....Unless there are big holes of 'walls' in the dark....Unless...."
Steve grinned at him. "We won't be going very fast. Hell, we probably won't be able to go very fast. We'll see any holes or drop-offs. Probably."
"Probably," Dan sighed.
A half-hour later, the black pilot had fabricated some torches out of lengths of rusted metal pipe and tubing and had used lengths of copper wiring ripped from conduits to wrap up bundles of combustible debris he had gathered. He took his armloads to the handcar and found that Steve was moving it now back and forth down a length of track. The parts were stiff, but moving without too much effort.
Steve smiled pleasantly. "First-class transportation: no crowding, no mugging at night, no advertising to mar the car interiors...just perfect!"
Dan dumped the torches, and debris bundles across the end of the handcar. "Hey, how are we supposed to light these things?"
"Good question," Steve pondered. "I doubt any cans of gasoline survived the......explosion....." His eyes fell on the subway car and its ghostly inhabitants, and an idea--fuzzy at first---came to him. He rose. "C'mon, bud. "Let's see if anyone has one of those laser-flame lighters they were making when we left 1983! I remember reading that their batteries were designed to last over 50,000 years—an environmental nightmare in the late '70s."
One by one, the skeletons were lifted, turned, and examined. The dust of their clothes lay on the coach floor; little fabric remained. But underneath one woman's---man's---hand the two astronauts found what they were seeking.
"Luck is with us!" Dan exclaimed as he picked up the aluminum lighter. He opened the cap and ignited it.
"Ready to go?" Steve chuckled easily as they returned to the handcar and lighted the first torch.
Dan let the torch droop in his hand. "Seems to me you're pretty cheery, considering what we've found out about where we are."
"I'm not about to give up on finding a way home," Steve declared firmly. "There's a mystery at work here—the space warps, these intelligent apes, that power coming from nowhere, and even the way we humans have become something less than what we once were. I know it's all connected somehow, and until we uncover the real truth behind it all, I'm going to make the best of it!"
"Who holds the answers, Steve? Honestly, these humans are practically animals—dumb animals. You and I, and the passengers—wherever they are—are the only ones who still hold a shred of true humanity. But you're beating a dead horse; what's done is done."
"Look, Dan, maybe there's a way to balance things out—if we can get the humanoids on equal footing with the apes, then perhaps we can start reactivating one of those suborbitals and finally find our way back home."77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHLTzMMylnx
77Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZg1EycXvGJ
Dan chewed at his lip. “Right on, Mr. Burton.”
They’d only gone a few more yards when they stumbled upon a small alcove, and there—illuminated by an eerie green glow—stood four tall tubes, each housing a familiar figure in suspended animation.
Dan’s eyes widened as he realized who lay within. “Betty… Valerie… Mark… and—who’s that? Fitzhugh?” His voice trembled with both relief and dread. “How did they end up like this?”
Steve approached one of the tubes, wiping a thin layer of condensation from the glass to reveal Betty’s sleeping face. “God only knows,” he murmured. “If the people who did this can preserve them, they’ve got technology way beyond our pay grade. The question is… do we really want to meet them?”
Dan swallowed hard, gaze flicking to the shadowy passage ahead. “You’re saying we should just leave them here?”
“No,” Steve answered softly, “but we need to tread carefully. Whoever built these chambers is powerful enough to keep our friends on ice." He let the words hang, the implication chilling them both.
Just then, Dan's eyes widened in alarm as he scanned the group, then something dreadful dawned on him. "Hold on—where's Barry?" he demanded, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and dread. "What have they done with the kid?"
Before Steve could answer, a sudden clang made both men crouch, their attention snapping to the ominous sound echoing in the chamber.
They exchanged amazed glances, then moved as silently as they could to hide behind one of the final subway cars.
A second sound came from the first direction---the far end of the tunnel, beyond the first car---and Steve and Dan waited with considerable apprehension. Soon they heard the crunch of sand and dirt underfoot, then then the whisper of cloth.
Cautiously, they both peeked around the edge of the rusting car and saw two white-robed, white-hooded apparitions emerge from the darkness.
Dan started, and Steve grabbed at him, shaking his head. They watched as the figures came into the slightly brighter light near the exposed subway entrance, then strode onto the passenger platform. Steve and Dan peered out dangerously to examine the two spectral figures. Their hoods, though mostly concealing their features, when drawn back just enough, revealed faces of startling purity.
The pilots watched curiously as the figures walked up to an apparent blank wall, no more and no less ruined and discolored than any other section of the subway tunnels. One of the white-robed beings reached high into the dimness with a forefinger extended---and there was a faint click.
A section of the broken-tiled wall snapped aside a hand's width, then slid open with a faint rumble and the high-pitched whine of a distant, muffled motor. From beyond the door came a faint red glimmering, and the two robed figures moved inside and were lost to sight. In a few seconds, the door hummed closed, snapping into position. It appeared as seamless and whole as before.
Dan stared at Steve, both men speechless in surprise.
Dan blinked. "Humans?"
Steve looked worried. "Maybe some form of humans...." They both looked back at the hidden door. "If apes evolved into what we've found here, humans devolved in some way... Well, someone built that collector back there and maintains it beautifully. And these people just now looked more human in size than apes, and couldn't be humanoids like Nova, scared of their own shadow half the time...." Steve stopped abruptly. "It's very confusing," he said. "We need more information."
"Well, let's go get some, partner," Dan said, abandoning the handcar and climbing up onto the subway platform.
Steve followed him and they approached the wall where the two figures had stood. Steve peered up into the shadows.
"See that tile there, the dark one? I'll be that's it. You'd never notice it unless you knew what to look for."
"Well," Dan said, "whatever they were, they went through here."
"So will we!" With determination, Steve reached up to the dark tile in the wall, glanced at Dan, who nodded, then pressed it.
The section of wall before them snapped open almost silently, then slid aside. Steve and Dan could see only a short distance into the roughly hewn rock room beyond, for it was only dimly lit by red lights.
"Let's go," Steve suggested, and stepped through.
Dan followed him, and moments later the door slid shut, snapping back into place. The two astronauts looked back and saw the metal braces that held the hidden door, and the overhead track upon which it moved. They memorized its position, then moved toward the other end of the red-lit room. A wide metal door was set into the rock, but it had no lock, and the pilots opened it carefully.
Their eyebrows lifted in shock at what they saw beyond.
They stood looking across a huge underground hall from near the top. A catwalk, one of many, extended from a platform inside the door all the way across the cavern, supported from the roof by steel rods. Below, on the level floor of the vast artificial cave, sat huge machines.
Steve and Dan crept silently out onto the platform to peer down. The gigantic room was lit by lights, luckily below the level upon which Steve and Dan stood, which hung from the maze of catwalks and overhead rails at every level that crisscrossed the space. On the opposite wall, at a lower level, were banks of what looked like controls. An elevator ran down past them, with openings at every level, starting at the top, where the two astronauts lurked. Below, on the floor, were more controls.
"It's huge!" Dan said, awed.
Steve leaned over the railing, pointing. "Look down there."
Footed figures, draped in ragged, soot-streaked garments, glided along the catwalks below, their distorted faces hidden beneath hoods and masks of tarnished metal, eyes glowing faintly in the dim light. Their bodies, thin and contorted as if from years of subjugation, seemed barely human as they moved, dwarfed by the monstrous machinery around them. A low, throbbing hum filled the air, emanating from the giant generator, its hulking form glowing ominously with pulsing energy. The transformers crackled with tension, surging with massive charges of electricity, their cables twisting like serpents in the gloom.
Dan squinted as he studied the figures below, his gaze fixed on their attire. "Look at that," he murmured, "the faces are normal, but the clothing—it's like nothing I’ve seen before. The fabric’s so intricately woven, and those glossy hoods... they've got a medieval kind of vibe to them. They’ve clearly figured out how to adapt, but I can't figure out what inspired this." He frowned, trying to make sense of the strange, yet deliberate, appearance of their garments. "What kind of world would they need these for?"
Steve squinted at the figures, his mind racing. "What are they, really?" he murmured. "Are they slaves, or something else? They move like they’re alive, but... those robes, that posture—it’s like they’re not quite human. Maybe they’re some kind of automatons? The way they glide, so precise. It's hard to tell if they have any will of their own." He exhaled sharply. "What kind of function could they be serving?"
Steve shrugged his shoulders and they both continued to scrutinize what they saw below. Jeff pointed to the colossal structure looming ahead. "There," he said, his voice filled with awe. The power collector was a labyrinth of pipes, conduits, and tangled wires, crisscrossing in a dizzying array that seemed to stretch endlessly. It looked almost like a building in itself, rising with an intricate design of thick steel tubes and buzzing circuits. Each pipe seemed to lead somewhere important, twisting and turning, carrying immense amounts of power through the complex structure. The hum of energy was palpable, vibrating through the floor beneath their feet. It wasn’t just a machine; it was a testament to the technology that powered this strange, alien world.
"It's a power plant of some kind all right. They must get their power from that big device we saw aboveground.," Steve suggested.
"Whoever they are---or whatever they are---they must be highly intelligent to have created all this." Dan grinned at Steve. "Maybe things aren't so bad after all."
"Intelligent, yes.....but are they friendly? After all, they've sure gone to a lot of trouble to keep all this secret. They might not care for nosey visitors, not even a couple of well-meaning aeronauts from the past." Steve looked at Dan and added, "They might even blame us, somehow, for what happened...."
Do you think that...."
A bell sounded somewhere far below, cutting through the hum of generators and the other noises of machinery. Steve and Dan heard a chant of what seemed to be human voices coming from the bottom of the vast hall. They moved farther out onto the catwalk and crouched below a support girder to scrutinize the area below.
The chant grew louder, so that the two on the catwalk could make out the words---or word---even if not its meaning.
"Ba-rook....Ba-rook...Ba-rook..."
"What's that....?
The robed figures below were leaving the vast control room by the way of an exit on the ground floor. One by one, they drifted over to the door and disappeared, chanting, until there was no more song and no more white-robed figures.
Steve and Dan now rose and searched the area below, moving along the catwalk and inspecting the floor and catwalks carefully.
"They've all gone," Steve said softly. "Let's get a closer look."
The two pilots crossed the cavern and pushed a button to call up the elevator from the ground floor. "Might as well ride in style," Dan said.
In a few minutes, the caged elevator rose to their level and they entered. Steve pressed the bottom button and the cage started its smooth descent. He and Dan could soon see more of the vast room: it extended into two undercut caverns to the side, also filled with oversized machinery of unknown function.
Passing the upper control center with its illuminated dials and blinking lights, they came to a stop at the cavern floor and stepped out.
They were awed by the size of the machinery around them. As they came around a turbine as big as a house, Steve pointed to something near the base of the miniature of the energy collector. It was an egg-shaped object; various conduits led from it to the thick base upon which it rested. As they walked closer, they could see that it was a kind of chair, with a padded seat and back and armests within the concavity of the gleaming metal egg.
"Everything," Dan said, waving his arm at the complex around them," seems to be leading right here to this---this module."
Steve looked closer and saw an adjustable head dome inside. "It's like a---a throne----or an electric chair---or...." He seemed stumped for further answers.
Dan pointed down at the thick strands of cables leading away from the module, encased in the clear plastic conduits. "These look like output cables."
Steve shook his head, perplexed. "Let's follow those white robes, Dan. We're not going to figure out what this thing does until someone explains it to us."
Steve and Dan crept between the towering pieces of strange equipment to the closed door through which the lines of robed figures had disappeared. Steve saw a button next to the door and pushed it. Both men leaped to the side as the door whisked open. They stared beyond with some apprehension.
A long bare corridor, a narrow passageway, lined all along the route with uniform busts, honoring some form of dynastic succession, lay before them. It turned at about thirty yards ahead but its end was unseen. The two men from Earth's past entered, and Steve started to push the CLOSE button he saw on the inside.
"Don't!" Dan whispered quickly. "We might want to come back through here fast!"
Steve nodded his agreement and they walked quietly along the corridor to the bend and looked beyond.
"More white corridors!" Dan said.
There was nothing to do but continue.
Soon they heard a faint chanting and took the branching corridor that seemed to lead toward it. After a hundred yards or so, Steve and Dan heard a growing chant coming from another direction, and they jumped back some distance to a bend in the corridor.
As the heard the chant grow louder, they saw another line of white-robed figures march past.
"Ba-rook.....Ba-rook....Ba-rook."
After the column had filed by, the two pilots edged out, stealthily and followed it. Within a short distance they saw the figures turn into a doorway from which they heard an even louder chanting.
"BA-ROOK.....BA-ROOK....BA-ROOK....."
Creeping to the wide doorway, they cautiously put their heads around the edge. The room beyond was shaped like an amphitheater, with curved white walls, the hallway forming a well below. Pillars surrounded the room, heightening the amphitheater effect. The roof was a series of vaulted arches cut and smoothed in the rock.
Scores of white-robed figures stood in solemn rows, and at the far end of the assembly hall, on a raised platform, two figures commanded the scene. One, clad in a deep midnight blue robe, exuded a calm authority reminiscent of ancient seers, his simple yet dignified attire speaking of discipline and quiet resolve. The other, a larger figure with rich, dignified features and skin that hinted at a long and storied past, wore an ornate robe adorned with intricate, swirling patterns—a garment that marked him as a keeper of deep, cultural legacy. With their hoods pulled back to reveal faces marked by both compassion and the burdens of history, these two stood apart as living relics of a bygone era, silently bearing witness to the mysteries of a world long faded.
Gesturing to Dan, Steve slipped into the room, creeping quickly to the shelter of a pillar, where he bent over in a crouch. Dan joined him in seconds, and they gaped at the proceedings.
The chant continued, then the finely clad Negro raised his arms high. The chanting immediately increased in tempo.
"Ba-rook....Ba-rook....Ba-rook....Ba-rook, Ba-rook, Ba-rook!"
Dan clutched at Steve's arm in surprise as they heard the whine of an engine and the rumble of gearing. Out of the altar's depths, where the two robed figures still stood, a majestic throne slowly emerged, rising from the stone like an ancient relic of power. Seated upon it was a boy, his costume a patchwork of worn, earth-toned fabrics reminiscent of those once fashioned by survivors of a long-forgotten calamity—a garment marked by a raw, ragged dignity that hinted at a mysterious past. Above him, a dazzling spotlight burst forth, its brilliant glow almost blinding against the darkness of the chamber, casting every detail of his youthful face into sharp, uncanny relief. The intensity of the light, coupled with the eerie stillness of the scene, made it clear that this was no ordinary moment—something profound, and perhaps unsettling, was unfolding before their eyes.
The throne dominated the altar space, its massive, intricately carved form nearly overwhelming the otherwise sparse setting. Steve and Dan watched in silent disbelief as the assembled figures bent low in reverence around it. The blinding spotlight transformed the boy's youthful features into something ethereal and divine. Every gesture, every subtle shift of his head, was met with hushed awe from the worshipers. It became unmistakably clear that, despite his apparent age, this child was being exalted as a god—an object of veneration so profound that the entire assembly seemed to pulse with an almost hypnotic devotion.
"Ba-rook! Ba-rook! Ba-rook! Ba-rook, Ba-rook, Ba-rook!"
The boy slowly raised his hand, fingers splayed wide as if beckoning the heavens. In that moment, his subtle tilt of the head and the soft, enigmatic smile that played across his lips sent a palpable thrill through the assembly. Instantly, the worshipers' chanting surged, rising to a fever pitch, their voices merging into an ecstatic chorus that seemed to echo through the very walls of the ancient altar.
"BA-ROOK.....BA-ROOK....BA-ROOK.....!"
Dan gasped, and Steve stared as they caught a better look at the elegantly robed boy.
"It's Barry!" Steve gasped.
Without thinking, the two stepped out from their shelter behind the pillar.
Steve called out loudly, his voice cutting through the chanting voices. "Barry! Barry! It's us!"
Dan shouted, "Barry! Here!"
At this, the chanting broke, stumbling to a verbal halt as the robed figures turned toward the disturbance.
Barry still sat with his hand raised, his face vacant. As the chant faded, his arm fell slowly as he sat, without expression, looking toward the end of the room.
Steve and Dan slipped between the robed figures, pushing a few of them not too gently aside, and quickly made their way to the base of the altar. Light from the overhead spotlight shone on their faces as Steve spoke up loudly.
'Hey, Barry! It's us---Steve and Dan--from Spindrift!"
No response came from Barry, who continued to smile and stare blankly.
"She's hypnotized or something!" Steve said angrily, turning to the man in the deep, midnight-blue robe standing on the platform. "You, there! What have you done to him? What the hell is all this about?”
The imposing figure stepped forward and Steve saw the luminous eyes of his smooth, marble face glaring at him. Undaunted, he started up the altar steps toward Barry.
"Barry, it's me, Steve. Everything's all right, and..."
Steve whirled toward the tall man at the sound of a sudden humming. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dan start up the few steps toward the Negro opposite Barry. The humming increased in pitch and a pencil-thin beam of light shot out from either of the figure's eyes, spreading slightly and splashing over Dan.
"Uhhh--!" the muscular black man stopped in his tracks and crumpled, falling limply to the steps, unconscious.
Steve jumped at the still-glaring figure. "What are you....!"
The pencil-thin beams flashed at Steve, the blinding light causing sudden darkness, sudden silence. Steve had no awareness of his body falling heavily to the altar platform. Blackness closed in and he felt no sensations at all.
