Edmund Cooper - The Overman Culture

Michael was in a state of shock, as were the other fragiles. He looked at the great chamber, at the intricate system of pipes, at the panel displaying a bewildering array of gauges and dials, and at the three large, transparent, triple-walled cylinders containing the bodies of three naked human beings—a man and two women. Suddenly, he had a presentiment of the truth. A presentiment also that the truth might be too terrible to bear.

“Let me explain.” Mr. Shakespeare’s voice was oddly gentle. “This chamber was discovered one hundred and fifty years ago. It was discovered during a magnetometric survey of the island of Tasmania. These bodies, preserved in liquid helium, are the bodies of Julius Overman and his two wives, Abigail and Mary. Until they were placed in the cylinders, none of them was clinically dead. Julius Overman had his preservation chamber constructed very well by the standards of the time, with primary, secondary and tertiary circuits for all electronic and cryogenic systems. There were automated repair networks and three independent cryogenics control systems. There were heat-exchange power units designed to function in sequence for a very long time. Unfortunately, no mechanical system can function with perfect efficiency indefinitely, and no biological system can be preserved indefinitely. Mr. Overman and his wives have been in suspension too long. There is irreversible brain damage.”

Michael looked at Emily. Tears were trickling unheeded from her eyes as she stared at the huge cylinders. He knew why she was crying. She was crying for the immense loneliness, the immense sadness of three human beings, caught in crystal, frozen beyond life, beyond death, locked into history, an icy epitaph for an entire civilization.

Then he looked at Ernest, and saw the tragic understanding in his eyes. Then he looked at the other fragiles. Some were unable to bear the sight, and held each other tightly, hiding their heads against breasts or shoulders. Others stared, awed, saddened, oppressed.

At last Michael found his voice. He turned to Mr. Shakespeare. “You say they have been in these cylinders too long. How long is too long?”

“Ten thousand years,” said Mr. Shakespeare. “They entered these suspension units in the same century during which the race of man destroyed itself. Later, when you have received special training, you will be able to understand exactly what happened. But it is sufficient now for me to explain that, during the twenty-first century, there were four great military and technological powers in the world. They were the North American Federation, the United States of Europe, the Russian Commonwealth and the Sino-Japanese Republic. The first nuclear war was between the North American Federation and the Sino-Japanese Republic. It destroyed over two thousand million human beings. During the second nuclear war, which took place toward the end of the century, between the Russian Commonwealth and the United States of Europe, a doomsday weapon was eventually used. It is impossible to determine whether it was used by accident or by design. In this case the doomsday weapon consisted of a self-replicating biochemical poison, dispersed by air and water, which attacked the central nervous system of almost all primates—especially man. Climatic dispersal brought about the destruction of the entire human race within a few decades.”

Michael did not clearly understand all that Mr. Shakespeare was saying, but the general pattern was clear. Clear—and horrible to imagine. Suddenly, he was struck by a thought. “This poison—is it still active? Outside…. Outside London?”

“The poison was eventually neutralized, but far too late to save any human beings.”

Michael’s head and his entire body seemed to be aching with shock, with sadness and with a profound awe. At the same time, he felt oddly numb. He wondered if he were going mad. Then he wondered why he was not going mad. He wondered if the other fragiles felt like this. He marveled that he seemed to be still capable of rational speech.

“If the human race is dead,” he said slowly, “then what are we?”

Mr. Shakespeare smiled. “You are the second human race. There is much to explain. But first, it is my duty to present to you the testament of Julius Overman.”

Mr. Shakespeare went to the instrument panel that was fixed against the glassy walls of the vault. There were several switches and studs under the rows of dials, gauges and meters. Every switch but one was protected by a glass covering. Mr. Shakespeare pointed to the switch and to a small ceramic tile underneath it on which there appeared to be words.

“Michael, despite some discouragement and a great deal of derision, you persisted in your intention to learn to read. These instructions are in the English language. Would you care to read them?”

Michael walked across the vault to the instrument panel and looked at the tile.

“Let no man use this switch,” he read, “or disturb those now sealed in this chamber, unless he truly loves his fellow men.”

“I believe,” said Mr. Shakespeare, “that you, Michael Faraday, are qualified to operate the device.”

Michael pressed the switch.

There was a faint hissing. Then a small section of wall close to the instrument panel opened outward to reveal a lighted recess. All it contained was a rectangular plate of metal that looked like bronze.

Michael lifted the heavy plate out of the recess. It was deeply engraved with row upon row of words. The first line Michael could read; but the second, third and fourth he could not. The fifth line he could read; but the sixth, seventh and eighth he could not. The ninth he could read; and so it went on.

Mr. Shakespeare glanced at the plate. “The other languages are French, Russian and Chinese,” he said. “If translated, they would yield the same information as the English text. It is ten thousand years since human eyes have seen these words, Michael. It is now your privilege to reveal the testament of Julius Overman.”

Michael held the plate firmly and read aloud.

“I, Julius Overman, new Mormon, of the Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter-Day Saints, do hereby deliver this my testament to whomsoever shall find it, and my soul into the keeping of God, secure in the knowledge of eternal life.

“I was born in the year 1977 in London, England, to which corrupt and decadent country I shall not return until time and the will of God have wrought great and cleansing changes. The world is evil and is bent upon a course of great destruction. I cannot share in its evil ways nor do I wish to reap the harvest of destruction that must surely come. For I believe that mankind is determined to try the infinite patience of God; and I believe that in the end by His just and righteous anger the nations of the Earth shall perish.

“But shall mankind be utterly destroyed because of the evil in the civilization that exists today? God is merciful. It is not His will that the seed of Adam shall yield such a final harvest. God is merciful and has given to me, Julius Overman, lowly sinner that I am, the task of preparing for the coming of a new human race on that day when He shall cause this vault to be opened, and shall bring forth His servants into a new Eden.

“Therefore, being a person of substance in this world where wealth in mistaken for virtue, I have obeyed the instructions of my Lord. I have divested myself of all worldly possessions, and I have caused this chamber to be built in a small and yet unspoiled land far from my natural home. I have gathered genetic material on the advice of scientific men of goodwill, and I have caused it to be preserved here in the manner which, I believe, God has revealed to man for this very purpose. Also have I instructed my good and obedient wives Abigail and Mary in the sacred design with which my Lord has honored me. Therefore we now resign ourselves to that sleep from which, in the fullness of time, it shall please the Almighty to awaken us.