D. MacHale - The Never War

“But what happened to all the stuff? I mean, most of the buildings and roads are gone. Where did everything go?”

“It was all slowly dismantled. It was like a giant recycling project. Much of the material from the surface was retooled and used below to create the underground cities. There were billions of tons of material that couldn’t be re-used, like road surfaces. Not to mention all the material that had to be dug out to create the cities below. Most of that was broken down and used to create new terrain. The rolling hills you’re looking at were made from the streets and buildings of New York that were demolished. The whole idea was to heal the surface and preserve our resources for the future.”

“But some people still live on the surface?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah. There are still cities all over the world. My guess is that it’s about half and half, surface dwellers and below grounders. But the below grounders spend a lot of time on the surface, too. People still take vacations to the ocean, or the mountains to ski, and pretty much do most of the things they did on Second Earth. If you want, we can go to a Yankees game.”

“There’s still a Yankee Stadium?” ”Of course,” Patrick answered with a smile. “There are some things that shouldn’t be changed.”

“It’s like…perfect,” was all I could say.

Patrick laughed. “No, nothing’s perfect. But it’s better than the direction man was headed.”

We rode the rest of the way to the library in silence. Of course I had a million more questions, but I wanted to stop thinking so much and take in the surroundings. Gunny was right. It was a good feeling. It took a while, but it seemed as if mankind had finally figured out the right way to get by.

We sped along the roadway, headed for Manhattan. The closer we got to the island, the more I realized what Patrick meant about preserving the past. Though most of the terrain had been returned to its natural state, there were still a lot of structures on the surface, like the bridges over the rivers that circled Manhattan.

And the Empire State Building was still there. But it now had a shiny, steel surface that made it look like high-tech Empire State. I wasn’t sure if it was the exact same building from my time, but it was definitely a huge reminder of the past. Very cool. In general, Manhattan was a little more built up than the Bronx. There were more streets and a lot more of those boxy apartment buildings, and it felt more like a city. Still, it was all very relaxed and civilized.

But something was wrong.

As I saw more of this reborn world, I began to get an uneasy feeling. I couldn’t put it into words just then because I wasn’t sure what it was, but I was feeling strangely unsettled. I didn’t say anything, but a nervous vibe was definitely tickling the back of my brain.

“This is it,” Patrick announced as he stopped the vehicle in front of the library. I was happy to see that the two big stone lions I remembered from Second Earth were still there. The wide cement stairs leading up to the library were the same too. But the building itself was a very different place. I remembered a big, imposing structure, with arches and columns that looked like something you’d see in ancient Rome. But that building was long gone. In its place was a small, modern structure that wasn’t much bigger than the library in Stony Brook.

“This is it?” I asked with surprise. “It’s kind of…small.”

Patrick laughed and said, “We haven’t used traditional books in about two thousand years. It’s amazing how much room they took up. Believe me, you won’t be disappointed.”

He got out of the car and hurried up the stairs. Gunny leaned over to me and said, “I told you, it’s all about those little specks of things. That’s where they keep all the information. It’s magic.”

“Gunny,” I said. “I’m kind of nervous.”

“About what we’re going to find here?”

“Yeah, and about what we’ve already seen.”

We both took a look around at the quiet neighborhood. Some kids were playing kickball on the grass across the street. People rode by the library on their bicycles. A group of musicians played some classical music on the library steps. They all looked relaxed and as happy as could be, not like the frenzied New Yorkers I knew from First and Second Earth.

Gunny took this all in and then said, “This is why I brought you here. You needed to see this. It raises a whole lot of questions, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Let’s go find some of the answers.”

ThiswaslikenolibraryIhadeverseenbecause, well, there were no books. Actually, I take that back. There was one book, but it was in the lobby of the building, encased in a heavy glass box like a museum exhibit. I figured this was a book that was here to remind people of the past and the way things used to be. As I walked over to it, I wondered what would be the one book chosen to take this place of honor. Was it a dictionary? A Bible? Maybe the complete works of Shakespeare or some famous poet.

“Green Eggs and Ham?”Gunny said with surprise. “What kind of doctor writes about green eggs and ham?”

“Dr. Seuss,” I answered with a big smile on my face. “It’s my favorite book of all time.”

Patrick joined us and said, “We took a vote. It was pretty mucheverybody’sfavorite. Landslide victory. I’m partial toHorton Hears a Who, but this is okay too.”

The people of Third Earth still had a sense of humor.

Patrick led us through the large, marble-floored lobby where several people sat in comfortable chairs, reading from flat computer screens. Since space was a problem, this was a good way to go. Still, I loved to read and couldn’t imagine not being able to hold a book and turn the pages.

There were several long corridors leading off from the lobby. Patrick led us down one that was lined with doors on either side. Some were open and I could see people inside. I glanced into one room and saw something that made me stop short. Three people were seated around a silver platform that was raised about a foot in the air. Standing in the center of the platform, speaking to them, was Abraham Lincoln! I swear. He was right there. Honest Abe.

“… and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth,” Abe declared.

“Th-That’s Abraham Lincoln!” I said to nobody in particular.

“Yup, Gettysburg Address. Want to listen in?” Patrick asked.

“That’s some guy dressed up like Abe, right?”

At that instant Abraham Lincoln disappeared. Zap. Just like that, he faded out and the platform was empty. I shot a quick, questioning look to Patrick. He put an arm around my shoulder and led me farther down the hall.

“Think of how the caveman felt the first time he saw fire,” he chuckled. “It probably wasn’t much different than you’re feeling right now.”

“That was no fire, and I’m no caveman,” I said in shock. “Whatwasthat?”

“I’ll show you,” Patrick said, and led us into one of the rooms off the corridor. This room was pretty much like the one with Abe Lincoln’s ghost, but bigger. There were six simple chairs circling a silver platform that was about eight feet across.

“I’m a teacher,” Patrick explained. “So I have access to this super deluxe room.” I looked at Gunny. “Have you seen this before?”

“Yeah,” Gunny said with a smile. “Like I said, it’s magic.”

“Take a seat,” Patrick said. We did and he closed the door behind us so we had privacy. “The concept is simple. Every bit of information that exists has been stored in the data banks. It’s not much different from the computers you have on Second Earth, but about twelve billion times more powerful.” He took the center seat, pressed a glowing white button on the armrest, and said in a loud, clear voice: “Computer. New search.”