• Beyond 2000
• Sri Lankan Rose
• A new leaf in the millennium
• A way of life

Part 2 of M.T. L. Ebell's short story

Beyond 2000

"We'd all like to know that". Karl was German. There was murmured agreement. Communication was in English although one member spoke mostly in Mandarin and one in Urdu. As Sam started to speak the Director's voice came through again. "Sam?"

"Mr. Goddard?" 

"Sam, you are the only one down there who knows anything about what happens next. Follow this carefully. As soon as the descent ends a set of orange lights will guide you to the..... Oh, my God!" The change of tone alarmed the listeners. "Sir, Mr. Goddard, what is it?" 

There was a muffled scream and Tim's voice could be heard in the background. "No, Son," the Director's voice was shaky, "we can't drive this vehicle through the windows of the lab. Nothing can get through. Get in it though and drive like hell. You down there, do the best you can. Think!" 

In the lab, there was silence. Then, "Upstairs!" Alan shouted and rushed to the elevator. "No." Sam barred the way. "No one leaves this floor. Look!" There were images on a TV screen which no one had switched on. Images or merely streaks of light against darkness. This became steadily darker while the light grew bright, almost fiery. In that light they saw great lumps of matter also fall, thudding against the lab, too. There was a crash, and with a flicker, the screen went blank. "One hour ago." Sam whispered. "One hour. And because of me that child will die, and you may also, because the Director is not here." He covered his face.

"There isn't time for that now." Karl spoke roughly. "It would seem Mr. Goddard was planning to leave us anyway. Now, what is it you know that will help us to survive this?" He looked towards the blank screen, then looked away. 

"Is that all you can think of?" Anna knelt slowly. "Think of what is happening and who we left..... behind." There was a deep silence. The people in the lab knew that through an unknown hand with an unseen agenda they had been brought here. Not for the purpose for which they volunteered but for another; a chance at survival. There was too much pain in looking back and reckoning their losses. What mattered was the present. The moment passed. Hu helped Anna to her feet. They all looked at Sam.

The next hour passed. Sam told them all he had read in the Director's files. He had qualms that hitches would occur but they did not. The descent was not impeded; the orange lights did not fail; the doorway or hatch down to the Bunker did not refuse to open. Armed with the supplies Goddard had detailed they made their way in. They had matches, paraffin, they located the tanks of air, water and the store of food. The door shut with a low sound. "Man, I sure hope you know the way out, Sam," said Alan jokingly. "1 wouldn't like to be shut up in here for ever. You do know the way, don't you?"

"Yes."

Something in his voice made them turn again and look at him. "I know where the exit is, yes. I, we, only have to figure out how it opens and..." "And?" 

"And when to open it." 

A tense silence fell. "Maybe he left a message." 

"Let's look through our packs." 

"Let's look in his pack. That's what his grandson would have used." The packs were searched; Goddard's last. Each pack contained clothing similar to hospital gowns. Disposable. Two in each. Vitamin D. A flashlight and batteries. Toiletries and a relevant prayer book. Sharpened pencils and notebooks. In the last pack they found an hourglass and a note. 

Think of me it said, I will tell you what to do

Twelve people gave into their humanity and swore, cursed or cried as it suited them. 

Some felt they could kill Sam with ease. Sam felt his despair return. He was not the link to the future the boy would have been. The Goddards had some inner connection, Sam could not establish. Unless.....unless being deprived of all man made forms of communication they fell back on the mind. After all, his last words had been, Think, think.

It was many days later. In the calm that followed the venting of emotion the team had examined the stocks of food and worked out that at a basic three 'meals' a day, the food pellets would last them all up to two years. Obviously they were in for a long stay. They worked out a rationing of the water. A gown lasted almost ten days before tearing. Collectively, they never referred to the life they had left behind. All that mattered now was to last until they could get out. Timekeeping duties were allotted and faithfully carried out.

After six months the engineer and the professor worked out the way to open the exit hatch. It worked on paper but the hatch was sealed, almost welded together. The outer rim had not cooled enough to permit it.

Sam, Hu and Karl conferred. The situation was thus. The air did not seem as fresh, the primitive waste disposal system, the lack of actual sunshine; the horrible food pellets were getting them all down. Every evening they tried the hatch. No one felt able to last another eighteen months. Each learnt the others' language and tried to fight off lethargy.

The trio decided to dispense with timekeeping. Each person was given their share of food and asked to follow their inclinations as to eating. The stock of water still to be rationed. Water was the key to it all. One tank seemed liable to develop a leak. Lengthening hair made bathing a priority. Lakshmi's hair did not seem to grow at all. 

"I willed it to stop," she said, when asked. 

"Then will the door to open." 

"I'm, how do you say, working on it!"

Think, think. 

Sam felt the familiar phrase pulse through his consciousness. Activity was not enough. Thought was needed. He put it to the others that they get together and think of the same goals. Safety, health, survival. There was some skepticism.

"I'm working on a way to break through the lock or to dig our way out." Karl said. "You can think about that."

They lost track of time. They eyed one another with dislike and near hate. Three men started to haul down an empty tank to fashion out of it some tool. The water tank sprang a leak. Instinct made them stand under it and enjoy the dripping water. Sanity made it imperative to get out. The next time they tried the hatch, it wobbled. With the crude implement they forced it open.

Sam lay on a rocky substance so covered in grime he seemed a part of it. The immediate past came to him in snatches. He was so weak his hallucinations and fact mingled and his fears seemed solidest of all. Where the others were he did not know. Who the others were he sometimes forgot. The rush of joy when the hatch was opened...the gloom and the searing heat of what lay before them. Was this Hell? Deciding whether to stay underneath or to venture out. The polluted atmosphere. It permeated the interior of the bunker too. Soon, they had to leave. Each had crawled or limped away alone. One could not walk. No one could walk. The gloom, the gray dust in the air hit you. The sky had fallen on your head. Think. Think! Sam looked up. Was that G..god...oddard? Had he heard that?

Look up. 

Who spoke? He could see no one. The gloom had lessened and he raised himself up on his elbow In the distance a gleam caught his eye. He stared, Mirage? Was it? Could it be......? He stood. The sky ceiling had lifted. He tried to focus. It was. It had to be. Half-running, half-crawling, uttering hoarse cries, Sam headed towards it. 

He sensed other movement. Dirty logs were also approaching it. Wondering, he recognised Hu and Lakshmi. So he was not alone. Carefully they approached. It seemed real. It seemed fresh. It bubbled out of the ground and ran down a narrow path. It was water. Lakshmi gestured weakly. Looking round he saw the others, limping, torn, bleeding they made their way. No one touched it. No one drank. Just knowing it was there and they were together was enough. 
The End

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