James Scotson - Planets Falling

As we retreat behind a large reddish rock, the light vanishes and the doors part with a hiss. The whirring approaches us and then a small, metal box adorned with what look to be eyes and strange black wheels appears in the doorway. A bright red circle is painted on its side with the symbols F-R-E-E-D-O-M E-A-R-T-H underneath. It speaks in a strange monotone that is nonetheless similar to our own tongue. “Hello. You can stand up. I will not hurt you.”

Theo falls back in the dirt while my jaw hangs limply. “Should we run for the others?” I ask.

“Not sure,” Theo replies.

“There are others?” The metal box sounds curious. Its voice is neither male nor female. I have no idea how it is talking without a mouth. It continues. “By all means, please gather them. I have not had visitors for quite some time.”

I head down the hillside to gather our troops. Samuel decides to stay with the horses and scout for English while Bets and Flip join us. He’ll check on us occasionally and make sure that we can get back out through the door. As we walk toward the door, I warn Bets and Flip about the talking box. “We have no reason to trust the thing. Keep your weapons ready at all times.”

Bets looks at her sword. “How’s this going to stop something made of metal?”

“I don’t know. It didn’t seem to have any weapon that I could see. So, hopefully there are no worries.”

Theo seems more relaxed but is still hunkered behind the boulder. The box has shifted slightly and is talking with him. Theo turns to us. “So, this box thing is tough to understand. It calls itself an inter farce and that its job is to talk with people. Why’d the ancient ones need a talking box?” He laughs.

“I am an interface. The humans of which you speak need us to accomplish many tasks — order food, arrange travel, communicate with others, schedule meetings, maintain their homes…”

“Sounds to me that the ancient ones were helpless children and very lazy,” Theo interrupts.

“Oh no, they were fully grown adults. Many were quite brilliant. I miss them. I apologize. I have not been a gracious host. Please follow me into the facility. My masters have been gone now for centuries. I would enjoy serving you.”

We look uncertainly at Theo. He nods and we follow the whirring, talking box into the dark tunnel. I look over my shoulder as the daylight recedes.

My eyes adjust to the dimmed light of the corridor. Most everything I see I cannot comprehend — much like the junk we plow from the fields every spring. The difference here is that the windowpanes with no apparent use, the square buttons, and the strange knobs and levers all seem to be in working order and to have a purpose. Light surrounds us, and as Teacher said, there’s no heat. The smells of earth and growing things are absent. In their absence, another scent is present, but I don’t recognize its pleasant flowery notes. There’s something else. I can’t place it but I know that I’ve smelled it before. The air is dead. I already miss the wind on the hill.

We shuffle on. I’ve never been this far underground before. My heart pounds. Sweat slicks my back. The walls seem closer — I desperately want to turn and rush back to the sunshine and open spaces. Theo puts his hand on my shoulder and my nerves recede. I’ll have to accept the feeling of being buried like a corpse in this cramped tunnel.

Thankfully, the corridor opens into a vast circular room, the ceiling stretching impossibly high into the space above. Brilliant light trickles down on us. At first I think it is the sun, but the color’s all wrong. Sunlight is warm and comforting, while this light is cold as snow. Flip, Bets, and Theo stand next to me, stone still, soaking in the sight. If this is a mere reflection of the grandeur of the ancient ones, their dwellings and cities must have been magnificent. Red, blue, and yellow banners hang from the walls.

“This is where my masters lived before the fall,” the box says. “Please follow me to the dining area. I will prepare a meal for you.”

Bets looks confused. “How’re you going to prepare food down here? There’s no place to make a fire, no chimney. And where do you hunt or harvest if you live under the ground?”

“I must apologize. You must be living under primitive conditions on the surface. I will be happy to explain any questions you might have to the best of my ability. But first, you require sustenance.”

The metal box rolls away and we wander around the vast, sterile area. The walls above us are lined with stairs, walkways, and hundreds of doors. The floor is arranged into areas with seats, benches, and tables, all built with colorful materials that I’ve never seen before. The floor is covered with a strange, soft material that looks like fabric. All is in perfect order, with no signs of the messiness of humans. In the center of the room, there’s a large, round platform — a stage perhaps.

The metal thing reappears from nowhere, startling all of us. “Please follow me. I do hope you enjoy what I have prepared.” We follow the box into a large, well-lit room adjacent to the central hall. The walls are made of rough hewn pine, while a fire crackles in an enormous hearth. A wooden table waits, adorned with platters of the most beautiful and strange-looking food. We cautiously sit down and begin exploring the dishes. I take a helping of something too pretty to be edible. I’ve never tasted something so delicious, the creaminess of the freshest butter and a savory like no herb I’ve ever experienced. Bets, Flip, and Theo are similarly enthralled.

“My sensors indicate that you are enjoying the meal very much. Your pupils are dilated, your heart rate has risen, and endorphins are increasing. I am pleased.” The box is speaking in riddles. We don’t care. If this is what the ancient people experienced all the time, they must have been fat and enormously lazy. I’m enthralled and appalled simultaneously. I also have to pee.

The box approaches me, somehow sensing my discomfort. “Excuse me. Would you like to use the facilities?” It moves toward a thin door at the back of the room that I swear wasn’t there earlier.

“Facilities? Does that door lead out to a cess-house?” I whisper.

“I am unsure of what you speak. The door leads to a washroom.”

“How on gods’ earth do you know that I have to relieve myself?”

“Human biosigns are quite easy to interpret, with the proper programming.”

I have no idea what it’s talking about, but I take it up on its offer. The room is impossibly white with a basin on one wall and a loo-like seat in the center. I gingerly do my business, stand up, and the thing jumps to life, scaring the daylights out of me. I turn to see that the seat is gone and a voice, not unlike the boxes’ speaks from nowhere. “Please wash your hands. Would you like to take a shower or freshen up your clothing? Do you require make-up?”

The walls are no longer white but shining like silver, reflecting everything as clearly as the finest mirror I’ve ever seen. Water scented like rose flowers appears in the basin. I cautiously wash my hands and splash my face. A robe made of a spongy blue fabric is draped on a chair. I consider wrapping myself in it, then think better of letting this place entrap me. I stare at my image in the mirrors. My sandy hair’s a matted, curly mess and my eyes are drawn deep in their sockets. I’ve always been thin, but I can see the outline of my bones under my arms. I breathe deeply and leave.

“What happened to you, Marksman?” Bets is sitting back with her hands on her belly.

“Looks like she saw a ghost in there.” Theo laughs, with a strangely serene look.

“Give it a try,” I say. “It’s the strangest shithouse I’ve ever seen. Doing your business indoors. Doesn’t seem dignified to me. And you have company while you’re in there. Apparently, these people weren’t capable of passing gas without assistance.”