Fossil Time

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. Silence in my new world was even stronger on that day… cutting through my senses, like a chilly wind in May.

(inscription on the memorial stone of Eric Dew - bless his journey – as his last words are here to stay)

............................................

Nobody told me I was to become a leader, a prophet, and a messiah within a year. A year to find amazing love and lose it again in the dust of time and space. I am a normal guy, and these things just do not happen to me.

.................................................

The Tunnel was in fact an ordinary lane – between two tall buildings on the riverbank of the city. Men in black or blue suits passed through it every day, as did women dressed in similar colors, sometimes wearing summer dresses, usually on high heels. Tired after the busy morning, they crossed the waterfront street, drank from the fresh air, and inhaled the sweet feeling of the river carrying them to another life. Then they headed back to their stifled office space.

Occasionally, especially on a foggy day, a man would enter the Tunnel and would not come out again. Since he was alone, no one would notice his absence. At the end of the lunch break, the stranger would appear again. As if in a trance, slightly dazed, he would spin on his heels and head back to his work. And life would carry on as normal.

Until one day, a man with broad shoulders and ash-blond hair did not return. His colleagues were surprised that he was gone all afternoon but shrugged their shoulders and went on with their important business.

.................................................

The misty air was replaced by bright light, and the blue sky seemed illuminated with spring joy. I filled my lungs like a newborn child setting out to cry, rubbing my eyes to wake up. Nothing happened. The song of nature continued to float in the distance, myriad colors and a cocktail of scents tickling my senses. I realized I was not where I was supposed to be but felt no fear. Whatever this place was, its ambience was more pleasant than the office.

Dusty roads of a pale purple color meandered between fields carpeted with pastel beige. A light, playful breeze made the sprigs of grass dance, and the flower petals fly. I hit the road. Bushes surrounded by eager butterflies passed by, decorated with blossoms of all shapes. The air was saturated with a scent of lilacs and golden limes. My feet followed the voices of young birds drifting through a pristine forest. They chirped and sang as if it were for the last time. Among the mysterious tree shadows, a cool, naughty brook babbled in a lilting tune. I bent down to drink. It tasted of milk and honey, intoxicating with the flavor of figs. I quickened my pace.

The road reached a few dozen houses with pastel-blue roofs. There were no people in sight yet, at least no adults. A swarm of children appeared on the street; engrossed in play, they paid no attention to me. Staring at the purple door frames and windows, I went on, hoping to meet someone I could talk to. There were gardens in front of the houses, all about the same size. No tall shrubs or lush flowers – just small, humble pansies and the like. Soon I noticed that there were no red, orange, or dark blue blossoms anywhere, although they clearly existed, I had seen them along the way. Not a single flower or part of a house. As if a pastel veil had covered the entire town.

Suddenly the street in front of me filled with people, all facing me. Their voices grew more distinct, friendly smiles and inviting gestures indicated that I was welcome. It seemed they were expecting me. A middle-aged woman with closely cropped dark blonde hair stepped forward and said:

“You’re here at last. We have a lot of work waiting, welcome to Anthropia!”

“Work? I am on my lunch break…”

“I'll explain, no worries. No one knows upon arrival what they're here for. You should rest first from the long journey. Alina, my assistant, will take you to your house. There is tea, coffee, different sweets, and snacks, as we don't know what you like yet. The sofa is comfortable, and Alina can give you a massage. Or would you prefer a fitness device? We'll start when you say you are ready. My name is Layla and I'm in charge of all our guests here.”

“Could you perhaps tell me why I am visiting you?”

“Not now, it's a long and complicated story, we’ll start tomorrow. You need a rested body and a clear mind to make the right decisions.”

“Hmm… if you say so.” So far, the choices seemed acceptable to me. If I needed to make decisions like this all the time, I would get used to it quickly.”

On my way to what would soon be my home, I looked again at the tidy gardens. In the corners, bushes were attracting countless bees. Something about the manner of the bees struck me – they flew about purposefully and not one wandered around or headed for some lonely flower, charming as it was. Their buzzing was monotonous, as if I was listening to a recording on the radio. I asked Alina if she had noticed this.

“Of course, bees must do their job as efficiently as possible. These are the first robots that our ancestors produced several centuries ago, a very simple and useful device. It happened when the last bee populations in Anthropia were about to die out, which would have caused an ecological catastrophe. Surely you know what the role of the bees is?”

“I know. In my city there is an international foundation to protect them.” I wanted to impress her a bit.

The next morning Alina introduced me to Raya, who was to order my food. They questioned me and listened carefully, as if their future depended on me:

“What do you like the most – croissants, bread, cookies, donuts, toast? And how do you like your eggs, scrambled or poached? If an omelet, what ingredients do you need? Today we have mushrooms, ham, cheese, onions, tomatoes, and peppers. Here's some champagne and orange juice. “

Afterwards I had an appointment with Layla.

“Hello Eric. Please sit as comfortably as possible. Shall we begin?”

“Sure. I’m all ears.”

“Let’s move on to the agenda then. First, you wanted to know why you're here.”

“That wouldn't be a bad place to start.”

“As you can see, we live in a pleasant society and a beautiful world built up over millennia. We have conquered all diseases, and there have been no shortages, famines, violence, and wars for a long time. Science found ways to clone pedigree animals, and robots have replaced farm workers, applying advanced methods of animal husbandry and agriculture. They also organize transportation, logistics and cleaning.”

“A very nice place, indeed. Except that I don't know why I ended up here and when I'll return to my world.”

“It's up to you. In fact, we urgently need your help. As was the case with your predecessors.”

“Have they returned?”

“Most of them, yes.”

“Well, that's reassuring.”

“So, despite the achievements I mentioned, our society entered a mature phase of development which brought new challenges. Today everyone can have exactly what they want at any given moment. Robots do not pose a danger, because we don’t make them intelligent – they only have strong senses and excellent algorithms. One of the good decisions made in the past was not to create more intelligent robots. So, any activity demanding some creativity or research-based thinking is left to humans, so that they don't get bored. However, people of lower intelligence and lacking any creativity began to loiter, drink, or get fat, which affected their health. Some even became criminals; in other words, the negative development of old returned.”

“Hmm, I have to say I'm never bored.”

“Of course. That's why you're here. But we’ve already dealt with this first enemy. We created huge sports centers and started giving awards to motivate people. Just to keep them from staying at home, getting fat or crazy. We also sent them to psychologists who figured out what was the one thing they would love to do – and we gave it to them. Some like to chop down trees, others fold paper into origami, yet others build endless roller coasters from photos they print out.

For the more creative group, this process was easier - they became potters, gardeners, cooks and much more - all things a robots could also do. As long as someone told them what the best clay pot looked like, or the most beautiful garden or enticing recipe. We organized exhibitions, competitions, and prizes.

An awful lot of people started getting into art or programming. They're taking care of themselves because that's what they're passionate about. Engineers and architects build, and so on. The only problem left was to find enough connoisseurs and customers because a society cannot consume endlessly. Unfortunately, new problems arose then.”

“So far, the situation seems quite attractive to me – what could be better than being able to choose freely what to do every day?”

“After these investments in education and psychoanalysis, complications emerged with the most ambitious group – a new kind of aggressiveness. The feeling that you are entitled to everything leads to the expectation that you are bound to get recognition – but if your neighbors’ paintings are better than yours and more people visit their exhibition, it is as it is. So, we introduced even more education and new social norms. Nowadays no one, not even a friend, would dare to say their opinion on whether you cooked nicely, or whether he liked your new clothes and style. But then, you as a host would never risk trying an unfamiliar recipe to embarrass your guests, either.”

I looked around. Layla's house was cozy and stylishly furnished in natural, unobtrusive colors. On the wall hung agreeable paintings, neither provocative nor extravagant. I realized they were all in the same color palette, consisting of pastel and soft tones. They seemed familiar to me, rather like the ones in my house. Different motifs, but painted in light, soothing colors.

“And why is it that I only see pastel tones everywhere?”

“It is obvious. People have no tolerance for frustration. If there were other colors in the garden, maybe the neighbor wouldn't like them – and you don't want to intrude or offend anyone, do you?”

Suddenly, the device in Layla's lap began to blink at a high frequency, and she grabbed it, excusing herself.

“Yes, I understand. I know it’s serious. It’s happening faster than expected – does science offer any explanation? Good, I'll talk to Eric. Even though it's early, he's only been here since yesterday. He is not ready yet. And you know from experience what happens when we rush things.”

Layla slowly placed the device down on the table and said: “Let’s get out of here.”

We walked towards the end of town – where the street started curving amongst the fields.

She looked at the horizon and muttered, "It's true." Staring into the distance, her eyes were widening. I followed her gaze to the end of the road, where it crested the hills. The horizon was covered by one dark gray streak, uneven and shimmering, like spilt mercury. Here and there, glittering tongues of gray stretched forth, others followed them, and thus, little by little, the mercury crept on. This sight was disturbing and did not fit in with the world around. The dark streak cast an ominous shadow over the earth. Layla stood, speechless, until she said:

“We need help, urgently.”

I was starting to feel uncomfortable because I had heard her say that this had something to do with me. It didn't bode well.

“Alright, let’s go back, I need to tell you everything else you need to know about our world. Otherwise, you won't be able to make the right decisions.”

This time we sat in the garden, where the violets were smiling kindly at me. I got some coffee.

“You already know that we all feel the normal fear of hurting someone. That's why we protect society in every possible way. Zero risk is the maxim above all. There is nothing in everyday life that we must fight for, so that we learn to take risks. This has brought forth our biggest enemy – the inability to take responsibility and decide on anything. This is a serious problem – as you can't punish anyone or, as in the past, send them to prison, for not choosing a course of action - they just can’t do it.”

“Well, in my world, only some people are able to make important decisions.”

“Yes, but you are at least taking responsibility for your life.”

“Some people aren't – and they keep saying that others are to blame. Or wait for someone else to solve their problems. But I understand what you mean, though I can't quite picture it yet.”

“This leads to stagnation in any small or large undertaking. Institutions and individuals cannot decide who to give a purchase order to or commission a project from, where to go on vacation (so they stay home), who wins a match or a game of chess (they all end in a draw). Similarly, it’s not clear what color a building should be, which restaurant to have dinner at, or who to start a family with (so people stay single and have no children or get together with their first love instead of the right partner, since there is no way to hurt them by leaving).”

“Sounds complicated. How do you deal with these issues then?”

“For certain cases, we have introduced a dice-rolling mechanism by law. This is of course against the constitution when important topics are concerned. Such situations may remain unresolved for years, or we pursue two possible solutions in parallel. As in the present case.”

“Regarding the cloud?

“If only it were a cloud. This phenomenon could end everything.”

Layla looked anxiously at her tablet.

“Excuse me, I must do the morning review of the accumulated open questions report. Under normal circumstances, we should get down to business now.”

She told me that there was an institution, like the court of a feudal lord in medieval times, where any citizen could register and report his dilemma on the spot. Some standard cases could also be solved online but the on-site report was brought to the attention of the Determinator.

“Tomorrow, we will solemnly announce you as our new Determinator in front of the entire congregation,” – she said with a complacent smile.

I choked and almost spilled my coffee.

“Wait a second. I couldn't quite follow on that.”

“Very simple. You are used to reviewing a set of data to make a credit decision in your bank. Same here, you look at the case and decide. It's easier than you think, it's about prosaic things. But we can't do without them. Otherwise, a bunch of other things won't happen, as I explained.”

“If you say so... Surely that would have a positive effect on my leaving here soon, wouldn't it?”

“Maybe. The faster we tick off the big tasks, the better. But it's more complicated this time because of the Threat.”

“You mean the cloud?”

“The possible end of our civilization. Have you heard of the Ice Age?”

“Yes, we had one in prehistoric times.”

“We know that it destroyed the first primitive species of mankind, as this new phenomenon could destroy us. An impenetrable, stringy, dark mass that won't allow a ray of sunlight to penetrate here for centuries to come. It will not happen immediately, but at the latest in a hundred years – for that much we have a shelter and supplies. Which is our first possible solution. We can talk about alternatives tomorrow, after you have spent at least a day making up your mind. Otherwise, it would be as if we were putting our future in the hands of a newly qualified bank clerk, while we need the experience of a bank director.”

I couldn't help a broad smile, and Layla threw a reproachful look at me. I added:

“Sorry, I did not mean to interrupt you, I just thought that the title "bank director" was not the ultimate guarantee for making the right decisions. “

The door opened and Alina stepped into the room.

“Alina will keep you company tonight – she is a psychologist and knows what you need to refuel your brain.”

Alina gave me a friendly smile. Her look was carefree, full of sincerity and kindness. Ebony hair caressed the young woman's face, little sparkles of curiosity were hiding in her eyes – quickly, I felt I was sinking in their blue depths. She said:

“I will take you home, you are my guest tonight. “

Any fatigue left evaporated in an instant. At her house, I received a glass of wine, a perfect bouquet, surely the result of a computer analysis of the most magical tastes. I waited, sitting on the couch, while she prepared some snacks. The window reflected her slender body, born of an ancient sculptor's dream. These were the smooth, graceful movements of a black panther, although Alina was clearly unaware of them. Nature was part of her, and not a garment.

“Thanks for the invite. May I ask what exactly do you do?”

“I work as a psychologist and psychoanalyst. Human beings are different and never boring.

Right now, I have the role of a school counsellor. But there are also other, annoying tasks –like sessions with adults who feel strain in their marriage. I can help most families but sometimes I reach my limits. ”

“Well, that’s when divorce happens.”

Her eyes widened in horror:

“What do you mean by "divorce"?”

“I mean the state in which some married people decide to separate.”

“I don’t know such a state. It would imply two things: first, to hurt and disappoint your partner, what kind of villain would do that? And second, to take a decision – which, as you know, we are not capable of doing. And it wouldn't be good to determine a person's fate by rolling a dice.”

“Wow. Even the church in my world can't accomplish that... unbelievable. But also, kind of romantic…”

“Working with children is more satisfying. I help them find and accomplish their dreams.”

“Did you find your dreams?”

“I think so, I have one of the most desirable jobs in the world.”

“You ‘think so’?”

“Well, I had to become a chemist. I specialized in dyes, especially for textiles, it was great. But at one point I left. The work became monotonous, I could never produce new and different paints, only shades of the existing ones – since nobody would need others anyway.”

“It really sounds boring. A robot could do that, too.”

“Yes... “ A shadow flew over Alina’s face.

“And do you have the technical equipment to produce other paints?”

Her face lit up.

“I do, here in my basement, during my studies I experimented a lot. “

“Show me some, we can try painting together.”

“Good! I'd best get something white from upstairs.”

She walked into the bedroom and fetched some clothes. Then, she showed me all her equipment downstairs. A lot of it was automatic, she only changed settings in the computer and pushed various buttons on the machine.

“What color should I choose for the demonstration?”

“Not sure – what about red?”

“Red? But it's such an intrusive color... “

“It’s only an experiment.”

“True – so be it.”

Five minutes later, a drawer came out of the machine, on it lay the dyed piece of clothing. Alina grabbed it with the eagerness of a toddler being given an ice cream on a stick. It was exquisite lace lingerie. She looked at it with delight, then at me, full of doubt.

“Will I ever be able to wear it?”

“Why not?”

“What man would like that?”

“Me, for example. Try it," I said, smiling.

“Okay, wait here!”

Alina hid behind a screen. Next, she came out wearing red lingerie barely covering her divine body. I took a deep breath. This was far beyond my expectations.

“What do you say?” Apparently, the fact that she was standing in front of me in such an attire embarrassed her less than the question whether I liked the red color.

“It's incredible," I tried to produce a calm tone, "But there is something missing.”

“What exactly?”

“Black shoes,” I said confidently, hoping that this would make her look more dressed.

“No problem, I've got plenty of shoes!" Which woman doesn't, I thought.

"But black is only worn at a funeral...”

“I think black fits well. The only thing missing is a black hat.”

“I have one, from my grandmother's funeral. Stay here!”

Her return caught me like lightning in the middle of a field at night, with no place to hide. A red explosion, wearing infinitely high-heeled black shoes with a graceful design, curving around exquisite ankles and feet. She could wear for example a top hat and look like a cheap bedroom cliché, but her hat was an exquisite work of art, featuring a huge, asymmetrical brim covered with a few dainty flowers – worthy of a royal court. This cocktail of innocence, grace and sexiness made me dizzy. Alina didn't realize that she was presenting me with a sight that did not come along every day. She looked at me with a radiant smile, without any embarrassment, expecting a meaningful comment. I said something stupid:

“Everything fits perfectly. Can I see what material the hat is made of?”

I approached her in awe, seemingly focused on the hat, and reached for the periphery, but my hand stayed lingering on her hair – I could not resist. Moving my fingers to Alina’s face, I touched her porcelain skin as lightly as a summer breeze. Wanting to savor her without eliciting a response, to only keep her beauty in my memory. But she felt the breeze, and her expression changed. Her lips parted slightly in an unspoken thought, and she looked at me like a bewildered child who was suddenly struck with something incomprehensible and mystical. Dozens of question marks flickered in her eyes, while her black, curled lashes sought to hide them.

“I'm engaged,” she murmured then softly, “The wedding is in six months.”

As soon as her lips moved, I had to catch them – I kissed her in a rush of ardor I couldn't tame. Then I pulled back and sank into her eyes. She drowned in mine, though we were both searching for a lifeline to get to the nearest shore.

“I should go, it's getting late.” I coughed awkwardly.

Alina looked at me like a bird with crushed wings.

“Can we talk again tomorrow? Did you like my outfit?”

“The best outfit I've ever seen in my life. Can I take a picture for you? There's no mirror here.”

“Why not, no one will ever see it anyway.”

My words worked like ointment on a fresh wound, and she smiled fondly:

“I'll see you to the door.”

Alina put on a robe and kicked off her shoes, opting to come barefoot to the exit. She seemed to understand now how it all happened.

.......................................

“Layla, you owe me a few explanations. Before I deal with the Cloud or set out to save your planet, I want to know where I am and why this world is so much like mine. And also how I came here.”

“Of course, Eric. Here is the dominant dogma, as taught at school:

Once upon a time, there was a planet called Earth. Life was born on it, the result of a violent bolt of lightning crashing in stormy weather on damp seaside rocks. Tiny organic cells evolved into marine animals, which crawled ashore, where the evolutionary process continued. After an asteroid stroke, huge species died out, and niches emerged for mammals and the primitive man. About 100,000 years before the time of Christ, the Earth was inhabited by at least two kinds of humans, Neanderthals and Homo sapiens. One difference between them was the maximum brain size, which was 0,015 gill in Neanderthals, and only 0,013 gill in Homo sapiens. They lived in remote areas or next to each other, until the next asteroid came along.

Asteroids are random in shape – this one was huge and had the shape of a saber – flying towards the Earth at a furious speed. It sliced it open at one end like a ripe watermelon, only to break off a small piece before diving into the ocean. At the same moment, due to the spectacular collision of natural forces or unknown properties of the world the asteroid came from, a syncope of time occurred. Maybe you know what a syncope is?"

Here I felt at home:

“A short-term loss of consciousness. But also, the most interesting pause in music. The rhythmic element that gives it dynamism and expressiveness by placing a pause in place of the accent usually reserved for a strong first note. Without it there would be no jazz, blues, soul, drum and bass, or funk.”

“So, time was to hiccup in a syncope and immediately resume its normal rhythm again. In this short span of time, the two new, separate parts of the Earth shifted, to occupy a different place in the time-space continuum, albeit close together. For this reason, the astronomers' instruments do not detect another celestial body nearby. We live next door but billions of years away.

At the very last moment, before the time gap closed like a guillotine, a tiny connection remained between the two worlds, like a spiral-shaped fettered time (relatively so, since it can translate your time to ours). The Earth resembled a balloon with the smaller part separated at one end and tied to it by a thread – like the balloons clowns make for children to create an interesting figure. This connection is the Tunnel. A fossil of space and time.

Subsequently, asynchronous development occurred. Since the Neanderthals, our ancestors who lived in this calmer and warmer side of the Earth, were smarter and more peaceful, they developed faster. If there was any mixing with the genes of Homo sapiens or Homo erectus at the beginning, apparently it was not much, because our genes prevailed. As you can see, our world is undoubtedly far more advanced than yours.”

“Then why do you seek help from us on a regular basis?”

“This only started in the last two hundred years. When we solved all our old problems, new ones appeared. In earlier times, we assume that some Earth inhabitants would regularly stumble and fall into the Tunnel by accident, since it happened to be in a major human settlement. This phenomenon was not yet known here, and everyone would think the stranger was crazy if he claimed he came from another world. So, he would indulge in the craft he knew – this is how wine, beer, potatoes, influences in music, architecture and arts came to our country. A few genes predisposing to aggressiveness were also added from time to time, and we still struggle with the effects, but the benefits of these outer influences outweighed the drawbacks in the long run.”

“And at some point, you started listening to the outsiders, believing there was another world?”

“Correct. With modern technology, we can detect anything - unknown DNA code, chemical residues in the lungs, you name it. Some guests even made technological discoveries if they had education and enhanced it here.”

“But didn't you say that most of them went back?”

“Yes. Until we decided to put a barrier at the entrance. Some saw a high risk after your society developed weapons of mass destruction. Now the strategy is to only let someone in for specific purposes when there is a need. Ever since a modern city developed around the Tunnel with thousands of rational thinking people in it, we open the tunnel during lunch break and wait to see who will come through. Most guests turned out to be helpful.”

“And how do you know that the ones who go back won't forcibly enter again with a bunch of dangerous people?”

“To that we found a solution. In your world everything is about money, and everyone has a price, even the most selfless ones. If he's a banker, we transfer a huge sum to his account and a lifetime pension to keep him quiet. If he's a priest, we fund his church and all its projects; if he's a scientist, we give him some key information to win a Nobel Prize. No one wants to deprive himself of luxury and recognition in his home world. Realizing that he'll be declared insane if he tells his true story.”