Subterranean Worlds

I, T’Pune take this man, Yahweh to be my soulmate now and forever, until death due us part. The dream faded away, yet it seemed so real. The girl standing next to him dressed in a sacred wedding gown. Her hair wound in braids underneath a sheer veil blowing in the Martian sand. Who was she? Why did he keep having the same dream? He had to know, yet today he had to find his father who was located near the Olympus Mons volcano. It was indicated upon the sandstone tablet he found in the museum statue. He believed the tablet was a map to the location of where his lost father was existing. The hike to the volcano took some time as he fed on plant vegetation that gave also water. When he finally reached the volcano he realized that it was larger than he imagined. How was he going to descend down into the volcano? The tablet indicated with a X that he was living at the volcano’s base, fortunately it was inactive. Searching the vegetation in the area, he found a plant he hadn’t seen before. A sticky cactus with strong suction cup flowers. Removing them with his obsidian tool he could use them to make his descend yet before he could make a descend, he had to first make a ascend to the top. Climbing slowly with the suction plant like a amphibious creature, he reached it as the sun was sinking. With blowing sand under the moon lighted the way as he made his descend down into the pit. Water trickled from a underground stream, rich in minerals providing nourishment. A swarm of fireflies was the only lite until he saw the bright eyes of a animal glowing in the darkness. He couldn’t tell what the animal was until it was upon him. The animal lit a torch revealing it was a small mountain yeti, white haired and blue eyed. Yahweh knew them from the canyons he had traveled to. The native Martians lived peacefully with them, as they were tame. The Yeti seemed to be saying to follow him, as he pointed in his primitive way to a cave entrance. Yahweh decided on following the creature. They walked down twisting narrow paths deep inside the giant volcano. The torch lite was blue from lack of oxygen that outlined the yetis fur in a bluish shroud. The tunnel opened out where he could see a small volcanic ash hut with another stream running through. The yeti beckoned with his torch to the hut. Yahweh moved in closer to look. The only light was a tiny window from inside the structure. He knocked on the door where he felt could be his father. The door slowly opened, there standing in the midst was his a very old man. Olam, is that you? The elderly face stood motionless staring at the tall figure at his door. His piercing eyes studied the stranger, searching with his mind just how it could be. Olam, father, it is I, Yahweh your son. His frail hands clasped onto Yahweh’s face, as if he hadn’t seen another human in centuries. He could only grunt, as language hadn’t been spoken within his exile. Yahweh let him search his face to gain recognition. Stepping into the enclosure, he saw a simple cot with many baskets of dried plants he must have survived on. Together they sat on the plant fiber bed, with Olam trying to speak not finding the words. Yahweh realized that he had no spoken language. The only lite was from a firefly lamp made also of plant fiber. The old man was overwhelmed with emotions as he hugged his son. He wasn’t wearing any clothes, as Yahweh made a loincloth out of his sack. He realized that he hadn’t seen the light of day in many years. Offering him dried fruit, he ate while crying tears of relief. Yahweh thought they must find a way out

other than back up the volcano as the old man couldn’t endure it. There was a sudden rushing sound as the small hut became flooded with water. Going outside into the cave, he could see it was flooding with rising water. Taking the old man’s hand, he led him quickly back through the tunnel to the dome of the volcano. It too was filling with water, where it came from he was uncertain. It became high enough to float upon, as Olam had difficulty with. Yahweh treaded the water, holding Olam’s body as they floated up. The water made a cyclone of pressure pushing them out onto the planet surface. They both ran from the surge, through the valley far from Olympus Mons. Yahweh led him to his home, as he couldn’t believe that he found a barely alive old man who could be the creator of life itself. How he became trapped inside the volcano was unknown, as his memory was clouded in the sands of time. They slept and ate, while Yahweh taught him a language, a few words at a time. Days passed as they farmed the red soil until one day Olan discovered small alien life among the perimeter. He was excited by the small fragile beings. It gave him new meaning just to watch them like rare animals within the sand pillars. Yahweh decided on taking him into the city where tribes of them lived. The Sun was bright in the orange sky and within the city a chanting could be heard. They seemed to be praising their existence celebrating the miracle of life itself. Yahweh showed Olam the sculpture in the museum. He shook his head not knowing it. Resting his body against the sculpture, it moved opening a hidden staircase. Yahweh ran down the steps intrigued by how his father’s touch bestowed the statue. They both descended into another tunnel, this one having electric lights, a pheromone unfamiliar on Mars. They found a strange track having metal cars, leading to a subterranean world. They thought it miraculous, and strangely abandoned. Along the tramway stood iron storage containers. Looking inside Yahweh found ancient flying suits, bright orange with a sun emblem and black boots. Olam found in another locker boxes of metals, trinkets from the ancient sky pilots that could have been living around the Sun. There was a swish sound as a active tram car appeared, seeming to be waiting for them. They stepped inside as the doors swished shut, speeding down the track through a tunnel, then out into the terrain. It stopped letting them out, into a unfamiliar zone, feeling like they had traveled to a different time dimension. Yahweh felt that he was back on old Earth somewhere in its future, yet it was now the past. As they stood in the abandoned town, tumbleweeds blew on dusty frames of time as they were drawn to a window that looked as if someone was inside. Stepping inside father and son found that figures were only made of wax, being in a wax museum in the old west. Next to the museum they found a rustic saloon with a player piano playing in the room. It too was abandoned. Olam made hand gestures that he wanted to return home as the scene was not to his favor. Reaching for his son’s hand, Olam closed his eyes, vanishing them both from the inner dimension and returning back to the museum. Astonished by his act, Yahweh asked why he had not done so to escape from the volcano? Olam smiled and gestured to the Sun. Yahweh guessed he needed light to preform a miracle. He explained that he sent many tablets with the Yeti’s, hoping they would give them to someone capable of help. Why he hid one in a museum was unknown. How the furry beasts came and went within the volcano he did not know, although he did see them vanish into the wall. The two had many subjects to discuss as father and son were gloriously in gratitude walking arm in arm back home. Opening his door, Yahweh found to his surprise a woman standing, the same one he saw in his dreams. Olam said she must have been sent from the heavens, his wife to be. She stood underneath the skylight, her gown flowing in the moonlight. He cradled her face as she smiled and said his name. Yahweh I finally have found you. The light around them grew stronger as Yahweh knew it was she whom he shall wed. The wedding was sacred as the chanting martians voices crescendoed throughout the land. The Sun had shaped itself into a heart that beat signals to the universe that their would be a return of the Olam God and his son Yahweh, who will in turn change the course of the world.