The Passage

The Passage

Coyright by By Nancy Lieder in 1997 and 2009

Table of Contents

Introduction …………………………………………………

3

Scenes

Prolog ………………………………………………… 5

Theories ……………………………………………… 12

Signs

……………………………………………………

20

The Horror ……………………………………… 31

Stories ……………………………………………

39

Friend and Foe …………………………… 47

On the Move ……………………………………… 56

Harm’s Way ……………………………………… 72

Helping Hands ……………………………… 81

New Neighbors ……………………………… 94

2

-Introduction-

The Passage follows several groups as they experience a pole shift and are

increasingly introduced to friendly aliens. These themes and the cover-up over

the approaching danger are introduced early. Martha, as a child, and her

young son Billy are both shown to be contactees. The cover-up over the

approaching rogue planet that will cause the pole shift is encountered when

the public tries to use observatory telescopes.

Danny, a young journalist encounters the pole shift cover-up when he tries to

publish a theory held by a local East Coast professor. The story follows

Danny. Discouraged at being dismissed by his editor, Mr. Maya, he goes on a

camping trip to the West with his girl friend Daisy. Hitting it off with

another couple, Frank and Jane, up in the Rockies, they discuss professor

Isaac’s theories and the congruence of prophecy, folklore, and geographic

evidence.

A local rancher, Big Tom, finds his cattle restless and his wife Martha

drinking beer in the middle of the day when the earth starts moaning. The pole

shift hits, preceded by days of darkness, red dust, and a slowing rotation. A

tent city is erected. An old timer at the ranch, Red, keeps the family on an

even keel. Martha and Red feed the group possum and earthworms and Red cobbles

together a windmill from a lawnmower and car parts.

Various groups migrate to a local ranch, as the roads and communications are

disrupted. Danny and his friends are looking for a working phone and some gas

for their car. The local Mayor, Herman, along with a couple close to the ranch

folks, Len and Clara, are looking for any place not devastated. Netty, the

lone survivor at a resort, is being pursued by the Groggin brothers, who are

dealt with in vigilante style justice. Mark, the pilot of a downed small

plane, and his lover Brian are looking for rescue. The group shares stories.

Insanity due to the stress of the changes affect little Tammy and Brian. Young

Billy receives a gift from the Zetas to cure his sister. Mark takes Brian back

to the plane wreck to rig an air balloon, traveling under strong west winds to

New York City, viewing the devastation as they go.

The group gathering at the ranch soon encounter a rogue military unit, lead by

General Flood and his acquiescing assistant Sergeant Hammond. They must leave

the ranch for their own safety after Jane has been killed during a rape

attempt. The traveling band lives off the land as their supplies have run out.

The group find evidence of cannibalism.

3

The traveling group then encounter another survival group led by Ian,

established on a river bluff. There Frank meets a new love in Madge, a mute

cook. Red helps an old timer at the camp cobble together a wood gas generator

for the antique tractor.

The rogue military unit follows, as Colonel Cage and others assigned to quell

the ranch rebellion have broken orders. On the move again, the group encounter

an innovative houseboat city afloat in the river, using plastic bottles as

floatation devices. They arrive at a dome city under the protection of benign

visitors, the Zetas. The dome city is self sufficient, growing food indoors.

The city mayor, Jonah, is an obvious contactee and hybrid children live at the

dome city. After a battle in which the protection of the Zetas plays a part,

the residents of the dome city find they have some friendly new neighbors, not

entirely human.

Danny and Netty are taken on a tour to meet alien lifeforms. Billy is the tour

guide. They meet an intelligent octopus, a hominoid pair with thick plate

covered skin, an intelligent jellyfish in a living ball of water, and

intelligent manta rays living on a poisonous gaseous planet.

4

-Prolog-

Martha, as a little girl, is in the swamp near the ranch home where she is

being raised by her father as an only child. Martha is dressed in a short

sleeved T-shirt and blue jean coveralls with the name “Martha” stitched in

faded red lettering across the left side of her coverall bib. She is barefoot,

hair in pig-tails, an obvious tom-boy. She is munching half a sandwich as she

approaches a clearing at the edge of a pond. There is a large tree at the

edge, with another nearby laid out on the ground with the top branches

splashed into the pond. The roots of the fallen tree have pulled from the

ground, forming a disc of tangled roots as tall as a man, leaving a shallow

hole in the ground where the tree used to stand. Grass has grown around this

area, as sunlight can now get through.

Martha is listening to the thrumming of the frogs, a chorus, and has stopped

munching her sandwich in fascination, looking out over the pond in a type of

rapture. There is a splash to the side, a racoon at the waters edge, and

Martha forgets the frogs, turning her head sharply toward the sound with a

slight smile. She knows this racoon. She leans over putting her sandwich on

the grass and creeps back behind the huge roots of the fallen tree, which

easily hide her small frame which is half the size of the root base. The

racoon scuttles over to investigate the sandwich, then chitters at something

it sees descending from the sky. The area is lighted, soundlessly, for a

moment, while the racoon grabs the sandwich and runs off with it.

A sport size space ship, 25 feet in diameter, is descending rapidly into the

clearing Martha is exploring. Motion is very rapid at first, slowing suddenly

near the ground. A ramp lowers from one side, and a small beige Zeta bounds

out, not bothering to walk down the ramp as much as touching the ramp only at

a couple points. Another floats out, touching down on the grass. Martha has

her mouth slightly open, is blinking a bit too much, and is stepping further

behind the tree roots.

A small beige colored Zeta, no larger than Martha, comes around the root base,

leaning forward head first as though to establish eye contact first, to not

startle Martha. He walks up to Martha, takes her hand, and turns to lead her

back into the grassy area at the edge of the pond. Martha displays no fear.

Two other little Zetas are outside the ship on the grass, one bent over and

reaching a hand out to the racoon who is also not fearful and standing on rear

legs, as though the two of them were having a conversation, silent and

telepathic.

_______________________________

5

Now in the current day, the fallen tree has rotted, is sinking into the

ground, and more brush has grown up where the grass used to be. Billy wades

along the edge of a pond, his jeans rolled up to just below his knees and his

shoes tossed on the edge of the pond. The water is cool against his bare legs,

taking his mind off the hot sun. A large fallen tree that has thrown its

branches into the pond when it fell has rotten so that most of the branches

are broken off and sinking into mud. The trunk of the tree is falling apart,

covered now with moss in places, and brush has grown up along the sides of the

tree. The rain has reduced to a steady drizzle and drip, the fallen tree

looking wet and Billy’s flannel shirt looking damp and clingy.

Billy freezes and moves slowly, his hands out in front of him as though to

grab something as he lowers his body slowly toward the side of a tall grass

clump at the edge of the swamp. He grabs a frog.

Gotcha!

The frog is struggling, long legs hanging down and kicking. Billy lets it go,

the frog leaping out of his hands into the pond. He’s good hearted, while

being all boy. He leans back against the fallen tree trunk, digging a cookie

out of his pocket and takes a bite. Billy looks around the swamp edge,

scanning the water. All is silent, no chorus of frogs. A puzzled look comes

over his face. He blinks.

_______________________________

Red is in the tool room in the barn, hiding out again. Retirement does not

suit him, and where he has no cause to regret living with his daughter on the

farm, being a perpetual guest is also a difficult role for the guff old man to

maintain. Here, among the tools, he is in his realm, unchallenged as the

authority, and feels he is adding something solid, something real, to the

family's well being. Going by the nickname Red, more for his tendency to get

behind issues quickly and passionately than the touch of red in his shock of

graying hair, the old man finds these moments when he is alone and

unchallenged restful. His kingdom may be a dusty room full of rusting tools,

but increasingly, this is where he spends his day. Billy comes up to his

Gramps, uneasy and wanting to share with the old man, who always has an ear

and a keen interest in his grandson's exploits and discoveries. Billy is

upset.

Gramps . . all the frogs are gone!

The old man says,

. . What you say Billy?

Billy is distressed.

There’s no frogs . . there's no noise, no jumping

around. Did someone else catch them all?

Red considers for a moment.

6

. . I just heard something about that on the radio,

that all the frogs were disappearing and no one knew

why, for sure.

Red turns, muttering to himself.

Maybe it’s got something to do with those circles we

found in the field.

Pondering mysteries comes to an abrupt halt for higher priorities when they

hear Martha, Billy's mom, giving a dinner call from the house.

Dinner, don’t be late!

An unnecessary warning. On a farm, the men folks are seldom late for dinner,

and then not by choice. Red puts down his tools and starts walking towards the

farmhouse.

Come on Billy.

Billy runs ahead towards the farmhouse.

_______________________________

A white-haired man, balding on top and with unkempt white hair springing out

from his head in all directions, is bending over the viewing eye-piece of a

telescope.

He’s a bit wild-eye’d, clearly in his 80’s. This is an older observatory,

small, and thus one that has escaped the cover-up blanket as it is not seeking

government grants. The Astronomer is retired, no longer under any employment

restrictions, another arm of the cover-up. He looks up with glee in his voice,

speaking to his middle-aged daughter at the side of the room.

Pourrait être une comète. Est sur un des bras d'Orion.

7

The daughter has her bland face toward her father, taking this in. She smiles

and turns to a laptop she has on a table in front of her, typing.

From my father’s observatory, his first comments. Could be a comet near

the arm of Orion. It emits waves. Father is excited!

_______________________________

A young man with short sandy hair is approaching a modern day observatory,

high in the hills in an arid region supporting only pine trees in the rocky

soil. He opens the door and strides in.

The young man, an amateur astronomer, is greeted by the attending assistant

astronomer. The attendant is wearing a lab coat over his sweater. The evening

is cool. The amateur keeps his leather jacket on. He says,

Hi. I’m Joe. I rented this scope for this hour. I’ve

got my coordinates here . .

The amateur is pulling out a piece of paper and hands it to the assistant. The

attendant frowns on seeing the coordinates, gesturing toward some scaffolding

placed to the side of the scope.

Can’t look in that direction. I’d move this equipment

but I’m not authorized. .. Huh . .

The attendant is puzzled, as there is no rational reason for the scaffolding,

especially since the scope had been rented. He is muttering to himself, under

his voice.

Why is that there?

The attendant’s face brightens. He begins walking sideways toward a side door.

We can use another. Come this way.

_______________________________

8

Both are now huddled over another telescope, having pulled stools up to the

viewing piece, side by side. The attendant is ready to enter coordinates into

the scope, has his hands over a keypad, and looks at the amateur expectantly.

The amateur has his piece of paper out and unfolded. He reads the coordinates

off.

Right Angle 5.151245, Declination +16.55743.

The attendant says,

Orion, eh? Lots of interest in that area lately.

The telescope hums and moves to a different angle. The attendant leans back

and says,

Take a look.

The amateur curls over the viewing piece, pulls back, moving away from the

eyepiece with a scrape of his stool. He gestures toward the eyepiece with his

hand.

Can we center on that light blob just to the left of

center? Is that supposed to be there?

In the viewfinder are several bright to medium bright stars with a light blob

off to the left hand side. The blob is lightest toward the center of the blob,

the light diminishing toward the outsides of the blob. The blob overall is

larger than the stars, which tend to be pinpoints of light.

The attendant leans forward to view. He adjusts the telescope to center the

object, takes note of a reading, and then gets up and walks to the side of the

room where large star charts are laid out on a table. He pulls one to the top

of the pile and locates the coordinates by checking the top and side numbers,

running his finger first down from the top and then in from the side. He turns

to answer the question, surprise in his voice.

No.

_______________________________

Out in space, Niburu, aka Planet X, the Planet of the Crossing, is seen

approaching. The whole scene is bathed in red, with red dust swirling about,

filled with debris. Stones and a type of gravel are on occasion seen in the

swirling mix. The planet appears to be a water planet but this is not obvious

because the red dust does not give it a blue hue. There is little land, less

than 10% land in various small continents, basically islands.

The tail, seemingly never-ending, has an occasional moon sized object, most

often in a dance with another such moon sized object. The debris continues,

but always the swirling red dust. A number of moons swirling around each other

curl like the tail of a scorpion. The red dust tail itself, electrically

charged, is likewise whipping and curling. Gray gravel and fine debris forms

its own cloud in the tail, and reacts to the motion of the moon swirls and red

9

dust swirls by swirling itself. The whole complex is a writhing monster as it

moves off into dark space.

_______________________________

Helicopter blades can be heard pulsing as the chopper looks down through

whispy clouds at a broad wheat field, golden in color. As the clouds part the

crop circle laid into the wheat is exposed. The wheat has been bent at the

nodes, not broken. Some grasshoppers are hopping across the bent wheat, trying

to avoid the approach of the noisy chopper.

A crop circle investigator is sitting next to the pilot of a helicopter. The

investigator has a video camera up to his face, but has pulled this away from

his face in order to speak. He has a distinct British clip. Through the

chopper window the wisps of clouds are still clearing in the early morning

light. The investigator says,

What are they trying to tell us?

The pilot says something almost unintelligible, given the background noise of

the chopper, and the investigator responds.

Yes, yes, overnight. . . There’s not a foot print down

there. We’re the first here. . . This is huge!

10

_______________________________

Red and Martha are sitting on the porch swing just after dusk. It is summer

and the night is filled with the thrumming sound of singing insects. Red has

his elbow on the armrest and is holding a can of beer, one foot resting on the

knee of his other leg. Martha is adjusting her hairpins, and sighs by way of

saying that at last the end of day has arrived and she can rest as she drops

her hands into her lap and looks out on the view. Martha points to the horizon

at her left, at a Half Moon rising.

Dad, has the Moon ever come up over there? It’s always

more . . over there . .

Martha gestures toward the right, more centered in the view from the porch

swing. Red says,

Been that way lately . . but not in all my years

here, no. Damned peculiar.

Big Tom’s muffled voice comes from within the house, but we can barely hear

what he is saying.

. . bath night, kids . .

Martha springs up and dashes off, with Red not able to catch her with his free

hand as he gropes to catch her arm.

Rest awhile. Martha!

Martha throws a comment over her shoulder on her way into the house.

He always forgets their ears . .

Red smiles affectionately at the backside of his hard-working daughter, as

though he should have known better than to stop her. His gaze returns to the

rising moon while his face gets somber.

What’s chasing you lately?

Red sighs, as though to say that there is something amiss, but he doesn’t know

exactly what it is.

11

-Theories-

Zack Maya, the editor of the Daily News, moves slowly around his crowded

office. His baggy pants, wrinkled around the seat and sagging unevenly below

the knee announcing without fanfare the editor's priorities. The Daily is

successful, but the margin, as with all products that depend upon the fickle

public, required a nervous eye. Maya found he had to be a politician more

often than a reporter, and where this did not set well with his perfunctory

personality, he had learned to accept this as a fact of life. Some news came

with a price, when printed.

Maya eases into his worn leather chair, flipping the pages of a story laid on

his chair seat with barely time enough to grasp their meaning. Glancing up

through his bifocals at Danny, who has been watching from his desk and has

come to lean in the doorway, the editor is brief and to the point. Maya points

a finger at Danny.

This won't fly. I won’t print the story. He has no

proof! It’s just a crazy idea. Can I remind you that

you write for a conservative newspaper? You could

start a panic with this stuff.

Danny frowns and slips into a wooden chair in front of the editor’s desk - the

defendant's chair, not meant to be comfortable. Danny is listening but we can

see he's not buying this explanation. Maya continues,

Who's going to pay the merchants for damages, for the

riot that this might cause?

Danny protests.

It’s a great article. The guy impressed me, and he had

plenty of sources. We’ve done documentaries before,

asteroids slinging by and all. I, I didn’t think this

was any different.

Maya just shakes his head, looking unblinkingly across the desk at Danny,

peering up over his bifocals.

That was maybe, this isn't saying maybe. I can’t print

this.

Maya tosses the story across his desk to Danny, settling back into his chair.

You're not sitting in my chair, Danny, and I'm telling

you, this won't fly.

Danny scoops up the story, his mouth opening and closing as he processes and

rejects arguments, blinks twice, and slowly rises and walks out the door

without a comment. Outside the editor's office he stops and is lost in

thought, his face smooth, showing no emotion. Finally, under his breath.

12

Bull shit.

Danny grabs his jacket and strides out of the office.

_______________________________

The wooded campus at Brandon University backs up into the foothills of the

Appalachian Mountains, crisscrossed with trails worn smooth by the pounding

feet of jogging students and faculty. For those familiar with the maze, the

trails led to treasures in the woods known to few. Isaac is fishing with his

cap down, back against a tree along the river. Isaac casts a fishing line when

a phone rings. He reaches into his fishing bag, pulls out a phone and

answers.

Danny is leaning against the edge of his desk, phone in hand.

Yes Professor Isaac, this is Danny at the paper. ..

Well, I want to do the story but my editor says it’s

crackpot stuff and The Daily is a newspaper of

integrity .. But I know we’ve done stuff like this

before. Do you happen to know why he won't publish the

story? .. I know the place. I’ll be right there.

_______________________________

Isaac is fishing with his cap down, back against a tree along the

river. When Danny arrives, in jeans, he is breathing heavily from the climb.

He fishes a notebook out of an inside pocket within his lightweight jacket,

and flips the pages, having tucked a pencil stub momentarily behind his right

ear. During their conversation, Danny is alternating between believing what

Isaac is saying and wanting to deny as to take it seriously is to be

frightened, so he is coming up with plausible explanations for what Isaac is

laying out. Isaac is familiar with this type of reaction and counters this by

just laying out the facts until they are overwhelming.

Danny . . a friend of mine at a large observatory has

been tracking an incoming object, but has been told to

keep mum about it if he knows what's good for him.

Says this has been going on for over a decade, what's

reported to be Planet X for many years. It comes

through the Solar System every 3,600 years or so and

pretty well tears up the Earth. Well, that's the

rogue planet I was telling you about. It’s real! It’s

inbound! And none of us is ready for it, that's for

damn sure. And that's precisely why the government

doesn't want the public to know about it. They're not

ready for it either.

13

Danny had been expecting this. The editor rejected his story too quickly,

barely reading it.

Who’s asking him to keep quiet and why?

Isaac lifts his pole and flips the line out into the shallows again before

answering. Danny is relieved to be having a discussion over the issues, but is

nonetheless taking this all in but not yet willing to buy it. Isaac says,

The government doesn't want the public to know about

it. They're not ready for it, and they don’t know

what to tell people. So they lean on people to keep it

quiet. Observatories don’t come cheap, they’re built

by big money. Universities get government grants. And

the government can always come in and say it’s a

national security issue.

Danny is confused. Why is a passing planet special?

National security, like, don’t cause panic? They

didn’t do that for the Near Earth Asteroid scares,

they were all over the news, TV and everything. How is

this different?

Isaac explains - those on top fear losing the upper hand.

These asteroids either wipe life out or pass by, black

or white, but this monster passes by and causes a pole

shift, the globe survives, but civilization is pretty

much wiped out, crashes. That’s what happened during

the time of Moses. Egypt lost their slaves, they

walked away, and Egypt was in chaos for centuries.

This is what they’re really worried about. They’re

worried about the working man questioning their

masters, gaining the upper hand. They’re worried about

mob rule.

Danny is beginning to connect the dots.

They think it’s going to happen? This thing is coming?

For sure, this is for sure? Boy, that explains Maya

jumping on me. It was like somebody had leaned on him,

like he knew more about it than he was telling me.

It’s not just a theory, says Isaac.

My friend says they were looking for it, they found it

and now they're tracking it.

An astonished Danny says,

They found it? They found it? Where’d they find it?

Isaac gives the long suppressed history, the discovery of Planet X in 1983.

14

In 1983, they were sending up infrared cameras above

the clouds, in those days they didn’t have the Hubble,

and were looking toward Orion because astronomers have

known there’s something out there, something pulling

comets and planets in that direction, some

gravitational force, and by gum, they found it. Scared

the heck out of them, and it hit the papers before

they could squelch it. Was in the Washington Post,

front page, in 1983.

But Danny is still missing the point.

Damn! But I don’t understand why mob violence will

ensue. I mean, so this thing passes. Why would

civilizations crash?

Isaac points to the extent of devastation that accompanies a pole shift.

It doesn’t just pass. Take a look at mountain

building, fresh mountains like the Rockies or the

Himalayas. If all we’re having is a few quakes now and

then, what would drive those mountains thousands of

feet in the air? What force would overcome the

resistance?

Isaac glances sideways at Danny, gauging his skepticism to be slight. Like

most young people, he is loath to let go of his idealism, not believing the

government would lie to the people. Isaac is familiar with this resistance

and these arguments, and takes them in stride. Danny says,

Uh, well quakes drop buildings, and ..

Isaac quickly interrupts,

That’s from the shaking.

Isaac is pondering a mountain building scene, where flat rock snaps and starts

to angle upward at a 45 degree angle, climbing over foothills nearby, climbing

up into the sky to the height of a Mt Everest. He says,

I’m talking about picking up a mountain and driving it

up, up, thousands of feet. Whole mountain ranges, up.

And look at the issue of Ice Ages and wandering poles!

We just don’t get it, we don’t get it! You know the

last Ice Age had ice over France, 11,000 years ago or

so, but at the same time the grasslands of Siberia

were warm and lush! Now, what did the Sun do there,

blink on for Siberia, and off for France?

Isaac pulls his line in and slings it back out again, both men quiet for a

moment. He says,

It's going to be a pretty rough ride, son.

15

Isaac is envisioning a mammoth is standing in grasslands, snow and howling

winds descending. The mammoth is backing away from the direction of the winds,

trunk high as though trying to defend itself, eyes crazed with fear at the

maelstrom descending. The end of the trunk has grass with buttercups in it, as

though this were a sudden event, mid-munch for the mammoth.

Mammoths were found flash frozen in Siberia, been

frozen like that for thousands of years, with

buttercups in their stomach. Buttercups, where there

isn't a blade of grass for hundreds of miles, now.

The Earth turned under them, son, and moved them to a

polar zone. They weren't the only species to go

extinct for no obvious reason. They've been dozens.

Playing the role of protester, Danny is still trying to lay out arguments.

Danny’s eyes are shifting from side to side as he rapidly searches for

rational explanations. Danny is chewing his lower lip slightly but is clearly

running out of arguments. Finally, he says, weakly.

Well, the ice formed over France because, uh, um ..

Isaac keeps up the pressure.

Makes no sense! Potsdam University documented that the

axis of the world shifted, pulling Germany South,

during the Jewish Exodus. The crust moved. The crust

moved! Pull that back and you’ve got Greenland over

where the N Pole is now. Got it? The crust moves, and

during that last Ice Age, France was the N Pole,

that’s why it was frozen! We don’t have wandering

poles, we’ve got a wandering crust.

Isaac flips his line out into the river again, easing back against the tree

trunk, knowing the argument has been won. Danny, now almost relaxed as he

realizes he has lost the argument, is giving in, but is reluctant to admit

defeat to someone in his father's generation. He says,

Is that why the weather's gone nuts and the compasses

don't ever seem to work right anymore?

Isaac is still not done laying out his evidence, and has no intention of

laying off.

And then there's the tidal waves, whale bones found on

hills 400-500 feet above sea level in Ontario. In

Sicily there's bone piles in the rock crevices that

include just about every animal in Europe and Africa,

all broken into bits as though the waves carried them

there and smashed them into bits against the rocks.

Danny protests. Surely there is another explanation for tidal waves in our

past.

16

So maybe a meteor fell, like what killed the

dinosaurs, fell in the ocean and caused a giant tidal

wave.

But Isaac has more.

Chief Mountain in Montana took an 8 mile trip over the

plains, and the Alps have moved hundreds of miles

overland. We're talking about slabs of rock thousand

of feet thick. What force is moving those mountains?

Danny tries proferring the standard explanation for massive geological changes

in the Earth's past.

Oh, that happened millions of years ago.

But as with all the other protestations, Isaac has the trump card.

Niagra Falls is running in a channel that's less than

4,000 years old, son, and several lakes on the West

Coast have existed for only about 3,500 years. Sound

familiar? Scientists have known for some time that

the ocean level dropped 20 feet world wide,

simultaneously, guess when - 3,000-4,000 years ago.

Finally, Danny submits.

Holy cow! This is big! Why wouldn’t they let this out?

They warn people about floods, about hurricanes, stock

up for the storm, and all. How is this any different?

Having reached the end of the game, the contest between generations put aside,

Isaac admits his own weakness, shows his softer side to Danny, as the argument

is dropped and has become a discussion. He says,

Put yourself in the shoes of the people in charge,

Danny, and look at the list of your worries. One,

there’s no way after the crust moves and all the

cities are dust to house and feed the citizens. So

they get into thinking about saving a select few, and

the few always includes them, of course. They’ve built

bunkers, you can be sure, and stocked them well, and

the heck with the taxpayer. This is why that story

gets resisted. You can believe they’ve got their

guards at the newspapers watching for it. Gets shot

down every time.

The light goes on for Danny, who realizes Maya’s reaction is not

the first.

You mean, you’ve tried this before?

Isaac says,

I was asked to contact your paper, give it another

shot. A group of us have been trying to find an

17

outlet. So far, no one’s gotten past the guard. They

tell these editors that it’s national security or

something, can’t have panic. God knows what they tell

them, but one thing is clear, this is a story that the

public is not allowed to hear.

Danny is new to the cover-up, and is searching for a route around

it.

Someone could go to an observatory. I mean, our

observatory has a public night, you can go there,

point the scope anywhere you want, they help you ..

Isaac, older and wiser, knows what encountering a serious cover-up means.

You can try it. We did, when it was still able to be

seen in the night sky. Got the runaround. It’s not

just the editors, it’s the observatories, the

astronomers you can’t believe. You think the American

people didn’t want to know about what happened to JFK?

They didn’t get the story then, and they don’t have it

now. When the hammer comes down to protect the people

in charge, in Washington, it comes down hard.

Youth perseveres. Danny says,

Yeah, but I bet I could. I mean, I can be pretty

persuasive.

Too late, in any case, says Isaac.

Observatories don’t cut it anymore, it’s too close to

the Sun now. They can’t look at light, they need the

night sky. It’s arrived, Danny, we’re not doing the

waltz anymore, we’re setting up for rock and roll!

Danny has fallen silent, but finally takes a big breath.

So what do we do?

Isaac explains that bottom line, one should be personally

prepared.

I know what I'm going to do. I'm not waiting for

anyone to tell me to do it, either. I've got a place

up in the hills, and as soon as things get funny,

that's where I'm headed.

_______________________________

Big Tom and Red are replacing wooden fence posts out in a field. They have a

stock of posts in the back of the truck, are pulling a broken post, snipping

the wire, hammering a new post in its place, and finally patching the wire

with a new piece of wire. Meanwhile, they converse. Big Tom says,

18

Heard that some rich folks come in from the coast

wanting to stock a bunker in big-top mountain. Wanted

this quiet, I guess, but you know Fred Harvey.

Big Tom and Red glance up and grin briefly at each other through their sweat.

Fred Harvey is apparently a known big mouth. Big Tom continues,

Fred says they had him take enough bottled water and

canned good to feed an army for a year up there, one

truckload after another. Says the big shock was the

hole in the mountain.

Big Tom stands straight, hand to his back, stretching. He continues while

standing, gesturing, his two hands together punching forward to indicate the

tunnel hammered in the rock.

They’d had someone hammer a tunnel, then a room.

Lights everywhere. Furniture too.

Red glances up from where he is crouched, mending the wire. He is not

interrupting as he wants to hear the story. Big Tom continues,

Now what were they expecting? An invasion?

Big Tom shakes his head and puts the sledge hammer back into the truck.

Muttering to himself and Red.

Crazy rich people. Got more money than they know what

to do with.

19

-Signs-

Danny and Daisy are driving to their campsite, a week into their camping trip,

somewhere out west in Utah. Danny glances sideways to drink in the lanky body

of Daisy in her shorts and halter top. Taking off for a camping trip, where

he can have her near him around the clock, should make him forget the unease

he has felt since that day talking to Professor Isaac, and the anger he still

feels at having his story cut. Daisy, for her part, is also looking forward to

two weeks alone with Danny. No phone. No editor. No assignments. Most of

their friends are married, and many with small children in arms or on the way,

and she rarely has opportunity to pry him away from his enthusiasms.

Danny is still upset in part as he is still angry about his story being

canned, being silenced and feeling there is something to it. It is pouring

rain, the windshield wipers flapping furiously and the car steamy. Daisy says,

Honey, you’ve got to let that go. It’s all just theory

anyway. This is your vacation, and all you’ve done is

fume about it. We’ve been on the road almost a week

already, and between you moaning about that damn

planet and Maya quashing your article and this damn

rain, it feels more like Hell than a vacation. How can

it be raining so much! Dry as a bone in New Jersey and

washing away in the rest of the country.

But Danny is still seething.

It’s just that all those things Professor Isaac was

relaying, that stuff really happened. No one can

explain it, there’s nothing that fits except the

passage of this rogue planet. Even a friend of

Einstein’s, guy named Hapgood, figured this out. Said

the sliding crust theory is the only explanation, and

Einstein agreed! And then they stop it at the gate,

block the story from getting past editors. And that

observatory guy!

Danny is almost gritting his teeth in his rage, his anger at being blocked at

all fronts palpable. As a young man, he is running into the reality of life in

the grown up world, and not liking what he is finding. How dare the truth be

buried, a cover-up occur in front of his eyes!

Daisy would just as soon put it aside, as she has other things on her mind.

All that stuff gets my stomach in a knot. There’s

nothing you can do about it, so forget it, honey.

20

Danny is ignoring her but reaches over to pat her thigh with a glance and a

smile so she does not pout. Seeing that he is not going to comment, Daisy

switches on the radio.

.. seem to have completely disappeared from most

wetlands. Naturalists theorize that the damaged ozone

layer may be a factor, allowing harmful sun rays to

kill the frog eggs, but the disappearance of frogs is

not just occurring in areas affected by the ozone

holes. For those traveling on I-15, we have a flash

flood warning near Fishlake National Forest. Drivers

should take alternate routes, or drive with extreme

caution. . .

Daisy quickly switches off the radio, not wanting bad news to spoil the mood.

Daisy turns and looks out of the car window. It’s still raining. She says,

Are we on I-15?

Danny’s battered blue Toyota is beset by a downpour, moving slowly. Up ahead

beyond some hills the highway is flooded, traffic stopped on either side of

the washout.

_______________________________

Danny and Daisy sit around their camp site sharing a beer with some campers

from the site next to them. Introductions have already been done, tents are

setup, dinner dishes washed and put away, a fire roaring in front of them as

Danny and Daisy and the couple camping next to them prepare to relax at the

end of the day. It has stopped raining, but occasionally some water splashes

off the rain drenched trees above them, causing the group to raise their hands

to block the drops when this happens, or shake the drops off their shirts

afterwards. Danny is perched on a convenient rock. Danny says,

Pull up a rock . . you wanna beer?

Jane is from California and a health nut. She quips back.

Do you happen to have any fresh squeezed orange juice?

Danny replies,

We have some fresh squeezed Coors.

Danny leans forward, putting his elbows on his knees, and gets a serious look

on his face.

I'm in the newspaper business, and ordinarily we chase

a story down and if it has any appeal at all, rush it

to press. Well, I had a real live wire, a local

professor who had a theory about crop circles. Gave a

talk at a local club and someone in the audience was

so impressed they sent me the flyer. Then he called

the paper wanting to get some coverage. What the heck,

21

we print everybody else's theories about crop circles

- its math, it DNA, whatever. His theory was that

we've got another planet in the Solar System, comes

orbiting around only once every 3,600 years or

something, and these crop circles show up just ahead

of another visit, like a warning!

Danny holds up two fingers, counting off on them.

Two things are bothering me here. One, he had a damn

good argument, and two, my editor wouldn't let me

print the story.

Jane’s husband, Frank, is pleased that the campground has at least one party

he can talk to, beyond the usual chatter about mosquitoes and barbecue sauce.

You're talking about Sitchin's theory. He claimed some

ancient records showed that this planet exists. And

that number - 3,600 years - these ancients had a term

for it.

Danny sits up, back ramrod straight, suddenly energized.

Well, dang! My editor went ballistic when I presented

the story. I've never seen him like that. So now I'm

wondering, if there's nothing to it, why did he react

like that? So I went out to see this guy, the

professor, and he told me the media is being silenced.

He told me the government knows about this, has the

dang thing in its sights and is watching it barrel

towards us, and is saying nothing to the rest of us!

Danny starts demonstrating what's going to happen with his hands, relaxing now

that he can talk about his worries and has an intelligent ear.

Mountains pushing up, tidal waves rolling across the

coastlines, howling winds, and of all things, red

dust. Red dust.

A slight flicker of a smile plays over Frank 's mouth, seeing Danny's

consternation. Having lived with the legends, and with a wife well into New

Age prognostications, Frank had come to find these theories almost stale.

Oh, there's something to it all right, at least all

the prophecies point to it in one way or another.

Finding an opening, Jane leaps in.

The Hopi speak of the Purification Day, when the whole

world will shake and turn red. And White Buffalo

calves are being born, that's another Indian prophecy

coming true.

Loath to let his wife take the center stage completely, a constant battle

between them, Frank joins in again.

22

There was an obscure channeled work by an Ohio

dentist, about a hundred years ago. Oashpe, I think

it's called. Talks about a Red Star that travels and

causes a lot of death. Says that souls are harvested

at that time. That's the term used - harvested.

Glancing at her husband, and seeing an opening, Jane jumps in.

Edgar Cayce saw California covered with water.

But Frank has the prize prophecy.

And then there's Mother Shipton, several hundred years

back, who pretty much predicted the same thing back in

merry 'ol England. She had a good track record on

predicting our technology, too.

Frank stands up and quotes Mother Shipton.

For seven days and seven nights

man will watch this awesome sight.

The tides will rise beyond their ken

to bite away the shores and then

the mountains will begin to roar

and earthquakes split the plain to shore.

Still emotionally unwilling to accept the situation, even if his intellect is

telling him otherwise, Danny interrupts.

Aw, come on! You can’t be serious! Do you really think

that’s going to happen?

Jane comes to the rescue, as she always does when opinions differ.

Let’s see what the cards say.

Jane pulls out her Tarot Cards and shuffles them, spreading them out in a fan

like fashion, face down on the blanket below which has been spread out over

the pine needles. She turns the top cards over, one by one. The first card is

the card of Death. Danny, eager for some reassurance at this point, raises his

eyebrows. Danny says,

Oops!

_______________________________

Colonel Cage is talking to a Zeta from the Zeta Reticuli star system. The room

is dark, lights off, as a private conversation is going on. Standing in the

shadows is a middle-aged man, fit with no signs of middle-aged spread or slack

muscles. A military man, Colonel Cage considers being fit the first bastion

of discipline. Tightly disciplined, he lives by rules both military and

personal, which often are at war with each other.

The colonel is talking to a figure taller than he, bone thin, with an enormous

head seemingly too heavy for the stick thin body. But there is grace in the

23

motions made by the long lanky arms, and the colonel seems not to notice or be

alarmed by the shape of his companion. He has long been accustomed to

conversing with this visitor from Zeta Reticuli. Where a conversation is going

on, only the voice of the colonel can be heard. Yet the intensity of his

words shows that an interchange of ideas is clearly going on.

We can't tell them. Don't think I don't want to. It's

orders, and orders are orders

Colonel Cage breaks down a bit, moving his hands in front of him in an

emotional way, as though groping for an answer, a resolution that will not

come.

My God, don't you think I want my neighbor's children

safe? They practically live at my house. But if I say

anything I'll disappear. What will my Mary and the

kids do then, for God's sake.

_______________________________

Back at the campground, the foursome has been camping together for a few days,

hitting it off. During this time the days seemed inordinately dim, as though

overcast to the point of not being able to see the Sun. Due to the cloud

cover, they took this to be an extremely cloudy day, but Frank has been

nervous. Danny as he is leaning into his car, retrieving some item with the

car door open. Frank comes up behind Danny. He says,

It’s so damn dim I can hardly make you out! I’ve never

seen it this overcast, it’s eerie. We’ve not seen the

sun for the past few days.

Danny ducks out of the car, looking around him to ensure that Daisy and Jane

are not in earshot, before replying in a low voice.

Did those prophecies you were quoting the other night

say anything about something like this? This gloom?

24

Frank raises his eyebrows, suddenly realizing something he’d forgotten. He

raises his hand.

Be right back.

Frank dashes off into his tent, rummaging around, coming out with a book he is

flipping through frantically. Finally, after pausing, he quotes.

Here it is. The Biblical three days of darkness

predicted. And in the Book of Amos ‘I will cause the

Sun to go down at noon and I will darken the Earth in

the midst of daytime.’ And the Greeks, in the

Phaethon, ‘One whole day went without the sun. But the

burning world gave light.’

Frank pauses, looking at Danny.

Damn!

_______________________________

At NASA in Houston the darkened skyline can be seen on a video, as though

stalled at the pre-dawn hour when the sky is light but no sun can be seen.

Rows of gray metal tables are placed to look forward at this wall, which has

several video screens, all currently meshed together to show the same scene,

an enlarged skyline. This is one of those high tech video screens that can

show individual shots, or can mesh together to show a large single shot.

Monitors and keyboards and various other electronic equipment are on the

tables, computer chairs that can scoot about with wheels, and some papers and

folders here and there. This is a work room, a war room, and it is filled with

men and women in business attire, ties pulled open, shirt collars unbuttoned,

some hair frazzled as hands have gone to heads now and then, the situation,

not appearance, the only concern.

A NASA employee, his hair up in the air on one side, his hair grease holding

it there, stands numbly staring at the screen, saying not a word to anyone as

though frozen in stance and speech. A second employee walks through the room

hurriedly, brushing past others as he passes, intent on talking to another

whom he stops to engage in animated conversation. Others in the room are on

the phone, shuffling papers, talking with each other, or sitting with their

heads in their hands. Yet a third employee has a mobile cell phone in his ear,

is gesturing with strong forward thrusts of his hand, an angry look on his

face. He says,

.. time to go to the bunker!

Leaning over a table and bringing his fist down now on the table, in anger,

easing himself into his chair as he is trembling with rage.

You told me when this started to happen we’d leave.

Now I want to know where the God damn bunker is! Now!

25

_______________________________

At the McGregor ranch Martha is normally up before dawn preparing breakfast for her hard working husband. Big Tom wolfs down his breakfast, slurping

coffee and shoveling in eggs and fried potatoes like there is no tomorrow,

talking between swallows about the chores he has lined up for the day.

. . found a broken fence yesterday, better get that

fixed before the cattle discover the break.

Big Tom glances up to gesture in the direction of the broken fence, and stops

mid-sentence as it is stone dark out and the dawn should have painted the

horizon with orange streaks by now. He is silent for a moment, his arm out-

stretched in mid-gesture. Then he falls back to eating, but keeps glancing

out the window, nervously, a puzzled look on his face. He checks his watch,

glances to the clock on the wall, and asks his wife what her stove clock says.

. . Martha, what time do you have?

He holds up his watch and she stares at her clock and then they both stare at

each other. When he discovers they are all in sync, he shakes his head and

goes back to wolfing his breakfast down.

Martha has gone into her garden behind the house, but is too upset to be

tending to the garden. She has her basket with her, to collect the produce,

her hair tied back with a bandana to keep it out of the way as she would

normally be bending over a lot, but is just standing there between the lettuce

and onions and tomato plants, a worried look on her face. Suddenly she jerks

her face up, though not a sound has been made to alert her to the presence of

a Zeta beside her. She comes close to tears seeing a friend, her face showing

relief at being able to seek counsel.

My God, what’s happening!

A tall Zeta comes up to her and puts his right hand on her left shoulder,

lowering his head to touch his forehead to hers. Martha rises her right hand

and puts it on the Zeta’s left shoulder at this, and they stand there briefly

for a moment.

They pull back from each other, now gazing into each other’s faces. Martha’s

face now reflects calm. She is no longer frantic and afraid.

_______________________________

26

Danny's eyes pop open in the darkened tent, though no sound or motion has

awakened him. He shines a flashlight on his watch and a puzzled look comes

over his face, as it shows 10:12 in the morning. Yet it is still dark.

Feeling him stirring, Daisy wakens. She says,

Can't you sleep either?

Danny says,

Normally I sleep like a log on camping trips. Odd that

we’re both having trouble sleeping. I know what’ll fix

that.

Danny reaches for Daisy, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close,

nuzzling her neck. The couple assumes they are having insomnia, the watch

broken, and Danny is just settling into snuggling with Daisy when they hear

voices from the New Age couple next door. Danny says,

They’re awake too? Something’s not right here.

Danny pulls on his pants and goes out to investigate.

_______________________________

The campers all meet by the smoldering camp fire, now out, and look around and

at their watches. Daisy says,

Our watches seem to be fast.

A bit stunned and confused, the campers stand around the remnants of their

campfire, looking first at their watches and then at each other. Frank and

Danny compare times, then stare at each other. Danny says,

10:16

And Frank’s concurs.

10:14

Danny goes to check the clock in his car, which also reads 10:16. He says,

Whatever it is, it’s made all the clocks fast. We’ll

probably hear about it later on the news. Weird!

Jane is stirring last night's campfire, adding kindling, and puts some water

on for coffee. Having no explanation for why their clocks are wrong, and not

wanting to admit to themselves how frightened they are, the campers joke

around. Jane says,

Everything looks better after a cup of coffee.

Frank smirks and says,

Yeah, we’re all still just dreaming.

Daisy is sitting on a rock, a slight frown on her face, blinking and saying

nothing, not willing to let go of her anxiety. Gradually the dawn rises, and

the group shows their obvious relief. Daisy brightens like the rising Sun when

the light of dawn shows, her face almost estatic.

Oh, there’s the Sun!

27

_______________________________

Back at the Daily News in Newark, New Jersey, Zack Maya, the newspaper editor,

is frantic, red in the face with anger, and standing as he phones a friend

from his office as he is too agitated to sit. He is looking at his watch and

where it appears to be dawn outside, his watch and the clock on the wall say

1:07 pm. He shouts into the phone.

What the hell's going on! You told me there wasn't any

danger, you asshole. I did what you asked me to do,

now what are you going to do about this!

It becomes apparent that the other party hung up on him. The editor is holding

the phone away from his ear, staring at it, then muttering under his breath

and hanging it up, looking decidedly despondent. The sound of beeping traffic

and hysterical shouting can be heard out the window.

_______________________________

The clock at the New York Stock Exchange reads 1:11 pm. Life goes on, even in

the face of the inexplicable. On the trading floor of the Stock Exchange,

there are shouts and traders running to and fro with mobile cell phones to

their ears, but the floor is uncharacteristically empty and quiet. Traders

and dealers are standing around, staring at the big clock which now reads

1:11.

There is some trading going on. Some shouts and people running around with

mobile cell phones, but a lot of traders and dealers are just standing and

staring at the big clock reading 1:11. People talk with each other, gesturing

and pointing excitedly. Small groups watch TV monitors hanging from wires on

the floor. CNN team talks about the daybreak being hours late.

.. scientists have yet to come up with an explanation

for why this day is getting a late start. Most

businesses and schools are operating at their normal

schedule, but the confusion has ..

Out on the busy street outside, in Times Square, a drug dealer who would

normally move through the crowd rapidly, making his contacts and moving to

safer streets, stands with his back against a brick wall, eyes scanning the

sky, cigarette in hand. A bum comes up to bum a smoke.

Got some smokes, man?

He is absentmindedly handed the entire pack by the dealer, complete with

lighter. The dealer pulls out a joint and turns to the bum, asking for a

light, apparently forgetting that he just handed the bum the pack and lighter,

distracted.

28

Hey! Gimme a light, would ya?

Cars are stalled and people are looking out their windows at the sky. A group

of farm kids get off a bus and look around in a big huddle.

So this is New York? Boy, they sure do have traffic

jams! Mom was right!

An executive in a dark gray suit steps out of a cab, smooth black briefcase in

hand. He notices a fine red dust powdering the sidewalk, and squats to pick

up a pinch between his fingers, rubbing his fingers together. The fine dust

is everywhere now - blowing off the tops of moving cars, settling into cracks

in the sidewalks, and coming down onto the anxious up-turned faces like a fine

mist.

_______________________________

It’s now 11:30 am in the Rockies. At the campground, the fine red dust is

powdering everything, but this passes notice due to being scattered by the

branches overhead. Danny has come back from picking up groceries at the local

Stop-n-Shop, and goes to open the trunk, finding that his finger leaves a mark

on the trunk lid. He runs a finger through the dust, staring at the tip,

puzzled.

Frank is returning from the stream, fishing pole in hand but otherwise empty

handed.

The stream is turning red, like blood, and the fish

are bobbing up one after another, belly up, dying from

whatever it is.

Daisy puts her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide open, an anxious look in her

eyes. Jane says,

My God, the prophecies are coming true.

Danny is punching the buttons on his mobile cell phone now, listening, then

punching another set and listening again. He's getting static, no ringing.

I'm not getting through, nothing's working.

Danny glances up into the sky.

These things work off the satellites . .

Frank is already bringing their camping supplies to their car, breaking camp.

Jane is taking down their tent, throwing the poles in a pile as though she

were racing against time. Danny is rubbing his forehead, trying to

understand.

The campground store didn't have any news either.

Their newspapers haven't been delivered, nor any of

the regular delivery runs.

29

Seeing everyone in the campground starting to break camp, as though what

others are doing is an imperative, Danny also starts to break camp. He walks

to the campfire and starts stacking supplies in a box, silently. Daisy pulls

her makeup case close to her as she sits on a log and begins to do her nails

with great concentration. She begins a monologue about polish types and

broken nails that she or her friends have experienced, though no one is

listening.

I just can't get my nails to grow! . .

30

-The Horror-

Big Tom has his tool box open along the fence he is repairing. His jeep

stands several feet away on solid ground, as cattle tend to walk along fences,

creating deep ruts well hidden by the tall grass. Like many ranchers, Big Tom

tended to take better care of his equipment than himself.

The cattle begin milling about and mooing, groups starting to bolt in this

direction or that, then changing their minds and bolting in the other

direction. Some groups are even running into each other, like a misdirected

stampeded. They are alarmed yet confused, getting some signal that Big Tom

can't sense. The earth emits a low moan, barely perceptible at first. However,

this low moan keeps up, rising and falling, as though the earth were in agony.

Big Tom has turned pale, drops his tools, leaving them where they lay on the

ground, stumbles back toward his jeep and drives off crazily, not even

shutting the door until well on his way up the dirt road. Big Tom careens up

to the ranch house, screeching his brakes and walking quickly to the house. He

barges in the kitchen door and heads for the phone. Martha says,

Won't do no good. I can't get through. Nobody can get

through.

Martha is calm, her daughter Tammy leaning into her where she sits in a

kitchen chair, having a beer. Martha and Big Tom exchange a long look, no

words spoken. Finally, Big Tom breaks the silence, glancing at the beer.

That looks good, think I'll have one.

Red comes into the kitchen and announces he's stocked the storm cellar. He

has Billy in tow, his helper, who goes to wash his hands as he has been

brushing his hands together, but glancing at them sees they are dirty. Billy

casts a glance at his mother Martha and heads toward the sink, not realizing

that something more serious than getting a reminder is pending.

A loud knock on the front door stops Big Tom from easing into a relaxed

posture in the familiar wooden chair he has just dropped into, beer in hand,

and he recoils to go answer it, his curious Billy at his heels. Danny is at

the door, dust streaked in the sweat running off his face, the others in the

foursome (Daisy, Jane, Frank) standing alongside the car in the drive. Danny

says,

Do you have any gas to sell, the stations don't seem

to be open.

Big Tom, surveying the visitors and sensing they pose no threat, allows

himself to be relieved to be getting some news.

31

Not surprised . . Jed probably took his hounds into

the hills already, he's been talking about the end of

the world, and probably figures it's come.

Danny doesn't answer for a few minutes, the sounds of insects singing in the

sun loud in the silence between the two men. Then he says,

Well, has it?

Big Tom motions to the foursome now all on the porch.

Might as well come in for a spell, the day's getting

hot already and it doesn't look like its going to end.

At the mention of time, Danny glances at his watch and gasps.

My God, it's almost midnight!

_______________________________

What seems like days have passed, and the long dawn that doesn't end and the

accumulating heat are wearing at the group. Grim and focused on the drama

being played out on the world's stage, which they all sense will end at some

point soon, the adults are being civil, not wanting to add to their problems.

The men are simply quiet, looking out the window as though expecting something

to happen.

The women peel potatoes and help Martha with her mending, making small talk to

keep the youngsters from realizing the seriousness of the situation. Jane

says,

Let me see if I can find a matching button. Want to

help me, Tammy? I’m looking for a small brown one like

this.

Everyone is in shorts, a film of sweat evident, but no one complains about the

heat or worry except Daisy who is almost whining, a continuous expression of

exasperation on her face. Daisy is going through the motions of being an

adult, but makes little noises of frustration when drawers don't open smoothly

or something isn't where she expects to find it in the cabinets. Finally she

looks pointedly at Danny but he just looks grim and shakes his head. Danny

says,

Don’t start again! We’re not going to drive off and

escape this. This is everywhere, Daisy, everywhere,

and we’ve just got to wait until this breaks or we get

news. Not going to be better anyplace else.

This has been a long running argument between them, one discussed whenever

they retired to one of the bedrooms for a nap together. Daisy is trying to

initiate the discussion again, publicly, hoping to win support, and Danny has

about had it with her. One of the children in the group is likewise having

32

problems understanding the situation. Tammy leans against her mother, Martha,

who is sitting in her place at the kitchen table.

When can my dolls go to the swimming hole for a

picnic?

Tammy is obviously asking when she can go again. Martha wraps her free arm

around her and gives her a little hug, understanding that the child wants to

cool off, and get out of the tension in the kitchen.

Soon honey, soon.

_______________________________

The pumps have stopped, are stopping repeatedly due to the erratic power

supply coming off the grid lines, the switches tripping as soon as the reset

button is pushed. Big Tom is squatting at the pump by the well, tools on the

ground next to him, tinkering with the pump. The pump is starting and then

cutting out immediately every time he starts it. He scoops up his tools and

rises, muttering softly.

Damn!

Big Tom is walking back from the spring house with a bucket of water in his

hands. Big Tom stops in his tracks, feeling a slight but continuous tremble in

the ground. His wife Martha comes running out of the house and into his arms,

the buckets now dropped to the ground, sloshing and spilling over. The kids

are running up behind her.

Mom! Mom!

Panic is in the air. Danny and Red come around the corner of the house, from

the garden, onions and tomatoes for the gumbo Martha was preparing in their

hands. Red's pale face accentuates the red tinge in his graying hair.

The moon is on the move!

Suddenly everyone standing is thrown several feet. Big Tom is thrown

backwards, skidding on his rear, Martha on top of him. Tammy sits up, holding

her scrapped and bleeding elbow, rocking back and forth in pain and crying

hard. Billy staggers to his feet, standing pale and shaken, his arms out to

either side and slightly crouching. Big Tom, rolling up to a sitting position

and easing his wife to the side, frowns. He says,

What the Hell! . .

The barn, laid on a concrete slab, has been lurched off its foundations and

moved halfway into the sloping barnyard. The house has crinkled in the

middle, the walls folding in on a broken support, but is still glued to its

foundation. Daisy emerges from the house, screaming, accompanied by Jane who

is holding both hands to her bleeding head.

33

A massive split in the earth begins ripping across the field behind the barn,

opening and closing again, yawing open several feet and then quickly closing

again. The sky darkens as a hailstorm of what appears to be gravel starts

peppering the landscape. The group reacting to their injuries and shock in the

yard put their hands over their heads and dash back and forth, needing shelter

but leery of going into the broken house. Lighting crackles overhead

repeatedly, though there is no rain, and in the distance there is a whooshing

sound, as a falling blanket of fire drops on some trees along a stream,

setting them afire.

The group, led by Red, dashes into the storm cellar. Red says,

Knew this would come in handy.

Daisy is hysterical and keeps screaming at Danny. Everyone is ignoring her.

Make it stop . . Make it stop.

Martha is wrapping her apron around Jane's head, instructing her in a calm

voice to press her head to stop the scalp wound from bleeding.

There, right there.

Jane’s face is covered with blood. Despite all, Frank is matter-of-fact.

I think my arm is broken.

Frank’s arm is seen dangling at an odd angle, the trauma of the moment so

great that he didn't notice this until they were safe in the storm cellar.

The winds outside are howling louder, and the bolted metal door of the cellar

is rattling with the force now and then. The only light in the cellar is a

battery operated lantern.

Big Tom is setting Frank's dislocated arm, Danny holding Frank from the back,

his arm coming around the front and holding Frank's good arm in a grip tight

enough to keep him from striking out in pain. Big Tom calls out.

Now!

Big Tom pulls as Frank cries out and lurches back, kicking his feet. Red is

standing at the ready, a splint made from a chair leg in his hands, with Billy

at his elbow, trying to help. Behind them is a drama just as compelling,

going unnoticed. Tammy is squeezed back into the corner of the room, hugging

one of her dolls, her face a frozen mask and voice silenced.

An hour later the winds have stopped howling. Red throws the bolts holding

the storm door tightly shut, and pushes on the door slightly, opening it a

crack. Big Tom, hesitant and cautious, sticks his head out, glancing around.

All is calm, only the broken landscape attesting to what had occurred only an

hour before. Big Tom is closely followed by his Billy, with Red and Martha

bobbing up and down behind them, trying to see. Martha blinks and struggles

to hold back her tears, seeing the life they built so painstakingly

devastated.

34

Every building tossed a kilter, branches torn off any trees left standing, and

the windmill a twisted tangle in the corner of the barnyard. Big Tom says,

At least we're still alive.

And then, showing his practical nature.

I'll go see if I can get the pump to work . . we need

to store and hold any clean water in the tank before

it drains away.

Big Tom walks through the splintered wreckage that was the house and barn.

Red remains behind, his hand on Billy's shoulder, as they both stand silent

and still. Martha has her hand to her mouth, the family frozen at the sight.

_______________________________

Where cataclysmic forces tear civilized trappings asunder, nature often

remains unruffled. Except for an occasional tree limb tossed into the tall

weeds, the pasture lands look much the same. A horse and rider emerge from

the cow path that wends through the woods, riding hard.

Netty, her hair coming apart and looking like it hasn't been combed in days,

is on the run. Her cream colored jodhpurs are black in places, soiled beyond

hope, attesting to the fact that Netty has been living in them for days. Her

face is oily and dusty, and the horse is covered with dust where the sweat is

now rolling off its flanks. They are on the run. She slows the horse when she

gets to the next clump of trees, turning to look over her shoulder. Netty sees

what she fears, coming behind her, and speaks quietly to her horse, setting

off again.

Haw

The group at the farmhouse has constructed a makeshift tent set up over a rope

strung between trees, weighed down by rocks along the edges of blankets hung

over the rope. Bedding of all kinds has been stuffed inside the tent, with

some laundry hung on another rope strung nearby. Life goes on. A fire is

smoldering between some stones and a pot is hung on a hook overhead, some

metal from the wrecked barn used to rig a metal beam over the fire. A menage

of wooden chairs salvaged from the house is set near a table with three legs,

the fourth corner stabilized on a barrel.

In the distance Netty comes into view, ridding hard. At first only a few

puffs of dust are visible, but then the figure of a horse and rider. Netty is

raised high in the stirrups, English style, leaning forward over the big bay's

shoulders, helping the weary horse carry its burden as easily as possible.

Martha rises from where she is washing and peeling potatoes and carrots for

soup, watching Netty race toward the tent city.

35

Netty dismounts before the horse stops, swinging her legs alongside the horse

and under its nose, signaling the horse to stop short. The bay braces its

front legs, it's rear haunches splaying outward in a frantic bracing motion.

She says,

They're coming . .

Martha, stuttering, her hand to her throat.

Wwwwho, wwho's coming?

Big Tom is rushing up, a rifle in his hands, setting the rifle to the firing

position. He has a grim look in his eyes, his jaw set, as he has been braced

for intruders and needs no explanation from Netty. She sees an ally in his

face, their eyes meeting, and she quickly explains.

I'm Netty Finley, Buck Finley's granddaughter. I was

at the Clearwater Resort when it happened.

Among friends at last, Netty allows her face to shows the strain of the past

few days. Big Tom glances at the horizon, scanning, impatient for her

explanation. Netty is shaken.

They killed them all .. all .. even the baby. .

Netty is having a hard time talking, overcome, but fighting the urge to

collapse into weeping, clearly due and coming. Glancing up into Big Tom's

eyes, Netty pointedly explains.

I think they're following me.

Big Tom, meeting her eyes, nods at her briefly, his jaw set, a silent

understanding between them.

An open top jeep is following puffs of dust in the distance and soil recently

pounded with horse hooves, tracks evident, following Netty. Engine revving and

the voices of young males, the Groggin brothers, whooping it up as though on

the hunt for a prey that can't get away.

Yeehaw!

Big Tom is leaning against a large tree trunk, his rifle resting on a lower

branch. The sound of a jeep is heard in the distance. The open topped jeep is

seen bouncing along a dirt road through the field, approaching. Big Tom

lowers the rifle, moving his eye close to the sight, bracing himself against

the tree trunk. A shot rings out as Big Tom jerks from the recoil.

Red has herded the group into a cistern room, where spring water is drawn and

foods stuffs are placed for cool storage - an old fashioned cooler. Red is at

the door, peering out through a crack, his finger to his mouth reminding them

all to hush. Red has his rifle resting along his leg, not cocked but there

just in case. He is standing in for Big Tom, second in command.

36

Martha has her two youngsters close to her, one under each arm and leaning

into her. Everyone is silent, scarcely breathing. Danny has his hand over his

hysterical girl friend's mouth, her wide eyes looking up steadily and

unblinkingly into his. He has taped her wrists and ankles and secured her to

a chair, taking no chances. Netty stands behind Red, peering over his

shoulder. Frank and Jane are in each other's arms, Frank running the fingers

of his good hand lightly up and down Jane's arm as she rests her head against

his good shoulder.

_______________________________

Big Tom is in the distance, walking down off the hillock, his purposeful

stride showing no tension or hurry. He takes his hat off and waves it in the

direction of the cistern room, signaling the OK. The door opens and Red

emerges as Big Tom comes within voice shot.

They won't trouble anyone anymore.

_______________________________

Behind what used to be the barn, the ladies are bathing, and a sheet has been

hung between the trough and the tent city, for privacy. Martha, dressed in a

bathrobe, is toweling off Tammy's head, while Tammy stands with a large bath

towel wrapped around her tiny frame. Daisy is complaining that the water isn't

warm, shivering and muttering as she quickly washes off with a wet cloth and

slips into one of her boyfriend's large wool shirts. Netty is washing with

relish, for the first time in days, soaping repeatedly and rinsing as though

she thought this day would never come again.

Jane has recovered from her scalp wound, but still has a thin strip of white

cloth tied around her head. She is being cheerful, or at least trying to be,

telling stories to Tammy about pioneer women, how brave they were, and the

hardships they bore. The obvious point is that these things can be survived.

Jane continues with her monologue.

They washed like this all the time, and in winter,

while standing by the stove! Never hurt them a bit.

Can be kind of fun if you think about it.

The ladies are walking back in a leisurely manner to the tent city from the

horse trough, a laugh now and then heard from the group, tension gone now that

the threat is past. Mark and Brian walking up the dirt road toward the group,

relieved to find others still alive and well. Martha breaks from the group and

runs toward the tent city, to warn Big Tom, with Tammy reacting to the sight

of two strangers approaching by standing stock still, staring in their

37

direction, so that Netty has to return, taking her by the hand to lead her

along.

Mark and Brian are seen as limping, dusty, Brian almost staggering. Big Tom is

striding into view, coming from the direction of the tent city which the woman

are now jogging toward. He holds the rifle pointed straight up in a warning

fashion, clearly stating that the visitors are to stop and identify

themselves.

Mark is the larger and more handsome, is almost twice the bulk of the slender

Brian, who has a thin face and light fine hair which he wears on the long

side. Mark is dark haired and tanned, hair on the short side and a commanding

look about him. He's used to being in charge. Mark puts his hand up,

signaling to Big Tom that they mean no harm.

We're unarmed . . We mean you no harm . . We're just

trying to get to a phone.

At this point he glances past Big Tom and notices for the first time that the

farm buildings are devastated, scanning the view in silence. His question is

more of a statement than a question.

I don't suppose your lines are up, though.

Not yet at ease, Big Tom is on guard.

Put your hands on your heads. We've had some

unwelcome visitors and I'm taking no chances.

Red has come up behind him, hands him the second rifle to hold while he

quickly pats the visitors down, nodding at Big Tom when no weapons are found.

Big Tom hands the spare rifle back to Red and welcomes the two men.

Come on back and have some soup, you look like you

could use some.

38

-Stories-

It's suppertime, the last traces of the setting sun fading rapidly, and the

group is gathered around the coals of a small fire, kept small and low so as

not to attract attention. Martha is putting her outdoor kitchen away, stacking

chipped plates and dented pots and pulling a sheet over them as cover, to keep

them clean. The new guests ate everything put before them. Martha has

seasoned the water used to cook carrots and given it to them as soup, a

bedtime snack. Nothing goes to waste.

Brian's slender hands are trembling as he brings the bowl up to his face,

slurping the soup repeatedly, still famished. Mark is telling what he heard on

the radio before the plane hit rough up/down drafts due to incipient hurricane

winds at the shift.

The winds were like a hurricane, but different. Our

plane hit some bad drafts. I couldn't hold it. We

could hear the radio news guy talking about . .

Cars are abandoned on the Golden Gate bridge in San Francisco, which is

blocked due to this, but people are flooding across from both directions, a

look of desperation in their eyes. An abandoned toddler is crying where he

stands, no one bothering to pick him up.

Rioting in cities, where panic stricken people were

crowding the bridges, trying to move in both

directions at once, just trying to get someplace else,

anyplace else.

Looting is rampant, like the LA riots but more widespread in all areas of the

city. Fires are everywhere.

And looting in the cities. The police just weren't

around, at least not paying attention. No law, and

anything goes.

Mark's face is like a mask as he relays all this, keeping his emotions

disconnected so he can get through it.

Services were failing. People failed to turn up for

their jobs. Power outages went unrepaired. Phone lines

went dead. Gas pumps were locked and the stations

closed.

Mark pauses a minute, keeping his emotions in control. Mark shakes his head.

A never-ending mid-morning on the East Coast, taking

its toll . .

Then Mark's story gets personal.

We saw some of that too, from the plane ..

39

Cars are littering the road, pulled over to the side, and a bridge with

traffic lined up on both sides. Abandoned cars on the bridge had created a

traffic jam that was only getting worse as more cars were pulling up at both

ends. People were walking in small groups across the land, too, setting out

on foot.

Highways and especially highway bridges were blocked

with cars that had run out of gas, abandoned where

they stood. And all the while we could hear the Earth

moaning. I don't ever think I'll forget that sound.

Big Tom nods in agreement with Mark on the sound, and Mark continues.

We heard that religious groups thought the end of the

world had come, and lots of people, even atheists,

were committing suicide, taking their whole families

with them, taking the kids out first, just like that

Jim Jones crowd.

Mark leans back, resigned, his eyes dropped to the feet of those around the

campfire, as the story gets personal.

Brian and I were overland when it hit .. We lost

control, first the compass went crazy ..

In the cockpit of the small plane the compass starts behaving erratically.

Brian grabs for their maps as guidance. Mark has one hand on the controls and

with the other is shaking open a map, a frantic look on his face. Brian's

slender hands are fluttering in now and then, trying to help open the map.

Then the sky started to dance around .. And when the

winds kicked in, we had no choice but to land and land

quick!

Mark falls silent for a minute, searching his memory for what he might have

missed.

We've been to the beach plenty, and I can recall

looking out at that broad expanse of water and

wondering once what it would be like to have it rise

up and rush at me. You know, a really big wave.

Happens, after a quake or something.

A large coastal city is in profile and at a distance so that both the water

and city have half the view. The water begins to rise on the water edge side

of the scene, then raises rapidly, a huge wave as tall as some of the sky

scrapers moving toward the city. The wave moves steadily, steadily rising as

a tide rather than as a towering wave about to crash down. This is seen

inundating the city rather than crashing at it from the side.

The last thing we heard was the radio announcer, screaming.

40

. . It’s coming . . “Oh my God, we're all going to

drown.” Then the radio suddenly went dead.

Netty has been brushing Tammy's hair as she sits numbly, her stony lack of

emotion being taken for a quiet nature. Netty puts the brush aside.

We were at the Clearwater Resort, waiting it out as

the phones had gone dead and no one knew what was

happening. I was up in my room, changing .. I heard a

woman's voice pleading .. Not my babies, please,

they're so little. Then I heard gun shots, then

silence, and slipped under the bed, quiet as a mouse.

Martha reaches across, and taking Tammy's hand, leads her away from the

unfolding story.

It was the Groggin brothers. I later realized they'd

killed the other guests for target practice when they

came up from the fishing hole. Almost everyone went

there to escape the heat, you know. I saw them when I

went to the barn to get my bay - fishing poles and

fish in hand, laying there in blood and twisted in

agony. All dead.

Vacationers were walking toward the main house, fishing poles and a string of

fish in hand. They were gesturing and talking. One of the guests jerks

backward, blood on his face and neck, splattered all over his shirt front.

The others get a frantic look on their faces, jerking their heads around to

look in the direction of the shot, trying to discern what is happening. Netty

says,

I realized they were shooting everybody!

The Groggin brothers were downstairs, getting drunk and laughing about their

exploits. Netty lies trembling under the bed, not daring to move.

They were laughing about what they'd done. Laughing.

Talking about how people looked when the bullets hit,

how they reacted, the look on their faces. Then

they'd howl and carry on. I was sick, trembling so

hard I was afraid to move. I slipped under the bed,

lay there trying not to breath, not to move, not make

any sounds that could be heard.

The Groggin brothers now considered themselves masters of the resort they were never welcomed at. They swaggered around, putting their muddy boots up on the

stuffed furniture, and raiding the bar and tossing empty bottles at lamps and

vases. No phones, no law, and the brothers can do as they please.

.. more fun than moving weed ..

41

They moved room to room seeing what they could find, looking for valuables.

Netty says,

I held my breath when they came into my room, didn't

breathe, and they missed me.

Netty slipped down the stairs, cautiously, shoes in her hand and back to the

wall so she can see the main room before the Groggin brothers see her feet.

Later I slipped down the stairs when it got quiet.

They were asleep, drunk and snoring.

Netty is in the stables at the Clearwater Resort, heaving an English saddle

over the back of her big bay, a horse she has brought with her to the resort,

her favorite. She is seen stroking its ears after she slips the bit into its

mouth, talking to it.

I went to the barn and saddled my big bay. He follows

me like a baby after I pet him a bit. Quiet as a

mouse.

Netty leads her horse away from the stables, her free hand on the horses mouth

now and then, as though to quiet it. Netty leads the horse along a hedge, away

from the resort lodge.

I thought I had gotten away, had walked along the

hedge where they couldn't see me unless I mounted, and

I didn't mount to ride until beyond the trees there.

Then Netty is on her bay, cantering, while looking over her shoulder toward

the resort lodge.

But when I was riding away, I thought I saw something

move near the house. I figured I'd been seen. They

chased me, and there was no hiding as the Sun never

went down. I was the only witness to their crimes.

Netty glances around the group, and seeing all eyes on her, attentively,

continues.

I was the only living witness to their crimes, and

they weren't about to lose me. Dead women tell no

tales. But I think they were on a power trip too.

Their guns ruled, I guess. These guys are sadistic.

Once they got on top, no telling what they'd do.

Netty falls silent for a minute, putting the fear she felt away in that

compartment she never wanted to open again. Taking a deep breath, Netty

glances around the group to signal a change in the story. Netty walked her

bay along the bed of a stream, water up to her hips in places. Suddenly she

and the horse were thrown sideways, the horse’s legs up in the air and kicking

42

as it tries to right itself. She lands flat on her belly on the water, rises

up sputtering and coughing. Both unhurt.

I was lucky enough to be in Clearwater Creek when it

hit. I took a dunking, had the breath knocked out of

me when I landed, and when I came up all I saw were

kicking legs and splashing around. It was a good

thing I hadn't been riding. My bay was almost upside

down. There were hooves everywhere, but we were OK.

Netty pauses to pull the story together, piecing it together for herself at

the same time.

Apparently the Groggin brothers were drunk, loose as a

goose. Drunk drivers are always the ones to survive

the crash. That was like them.

Netty falls silent again, having reached the end of her story. Netty ends her

story with a question.

I wonder if this isn't happening all over ..

Not everyone around the campfire is silent, as Brian has begun giggling, but

this goes unnoticed by the others rapt with the stories being told. Brian

stares off into space, his face a mask, giggling softly though nothing seems

to be funny. Some of the repeated shocks to weak individuals show mental

illness setting in - Tammy, who develops symptoms of catatonic schizophrenia,

Brian, who says inappropriate things indicating he is seeing another reality

and is either hallucinating or delusional. Brian says,

.. Happening to the goats ..

Everyone stares at Brian quietly while he giggles softly to himself, looking

off into space, though nothing is funny.

_______________________________

The dim light of dawn shows Big Tom trudging back from the creek, a towel

thrown over his shoulder. He meets Red, who is sipping coffee at what serves

as the kitchen table now, both men alone as the others sleep in. Big Tom

glances up at the sky and then comments quietly to Red.

Seems like this cloud cover is never going to lift.

Red rubs the tips of his fingers together, examining them briefly.

I saw this when I was stationed in the Philippines –

some volcanoes have been burping, somewhere.

Big Tom bends over a smoldering campfire, picking up a blackened coffee pot,

and while pouring himself a mug of coffee speaks in a quiet voice.

Have you noticed what's happening to Tammy?

Red had been dreading this moment.

43

I think she'll snap out of it, she just misses her

doll house. The way she holds that rag doll of hers,

you'd think it was all she had in the world.

Clearly eager to talk about what he sees happening to his little girl, Big Tom

is not going to be put off so easily.

She's never been like that, so quiet! I couldn't even

get her to talk to me yesterday, wouldn't say a word.

Damned peculiar.

Martha steps out of one of the makeshift tents, brushing hair away from her

placid sleepy face. She smiles slightly at the two men in her life as she

walks over to the fire, flipping open the coffee pot lid to inspect the

contents.

I heard you two talking about Tammy. I known she's

not right, and if we could I'd take her straight-away

to Doctor Townsend, but there's no way what with the

roads torn up.

A wailing sound floats through the air, coming from a distance but

unmistakably human. Mark bolts out of one of the tents, beating back the

blankets that act as the tent walls in his haste. He has a worried look on

his sleepy face.

Where's Brian, did you see where he went?

Red points in the direction of the wail, his face blank as though this is

nothing new. Mark heads off in haste in that direction, tucking his shirt

into this pants and stomping his feet into his boots as he goes.

That's another one who's not right. The other day I

found him talking to thin air.

_______________________________

One week later some townsfolk arrive, having walked from the nearby small

town. Several people are straggling in the dim dawn, along the winding road

that leads past the farm. One of them pulls a wagon meant to be pulled by a

pony, hauling another. The man inside is gripping both sides, bracing himself

against the jolts, his bruised body complaining at the motion. Herman, a large

man in the lead, stops and points toward the ranch house and the others look

up, lifting their gaze from the road and then looking in that direction. They

move forward with more pep now, taking hope now that they have found other

survivors.

Big Tom has been watching this procession from where he is sitting at the

table with Martha and Red, his hands wrapped around a coffee mug.

We've got more visitors.

44

Red jerks his head around, and then rises to go off to get his rifle. Big Tom

puts his mug down and heads in the direction of the arriving travelers,

apparently deciding that by their appearance they are anything but a threat.

Big Tom walks with a firm step past the wreck of the Ranch House and out along

the entry road. He is approaching with his hand outstretched, recognizing the

lead man. The group closes up around Big Tom, everyone is attempting to talk

at once. Clara, a thin graying woman, has rushed up to Big Tom. She describes

fire from dropping firestorms that consumed one group, the charred bodies

found.

They were all burned, as though there was no escape,

as though the fire dropped on them from the sky!

Her husband, Len, a thin bent man, joins in.

Don't know where else, as the house was fine, and that

ain't the weirdest thing we seen neither!

Clara glances at her husband.

You talking about that man pelted to death?

Len, not accustomed to be displaced as the story teller, jumps back in.

Hailstones had killed another which they found along a road, having left his

abandoned car. This man's car had shattered windows and a pock marked car.

It was like he was stoned to death, those little

stones all over the road, and his car looked even

worse.

Clara is too excited to stay silent.

Poor man, looks like he tried to run from it when the

windows shattered, and there was just no escape.

Big Tom asks,

These town folks?

Len and Clara glance at each other, but then Clara drops her gaze, looking

down at the road with tears welling up in her eyes, temporarily overcome. Len

is pointing toward the broken farm house.

Didn't fare any better then you, and those that

survived went off just like ourselves, looking for

help.

Clara adds more detail, finding her voice again. In the town some who were

standing on a broad veranda porch at the time were thrown and dashed where

they fell, broken and bloody with no chance of surviving the experience.

Miz Farmington got throwed clear across the creek, up

against the flood wall, looked like one a them

tomatoes the boys throw on Saturday nights, all red

and smashed.

Big Tom hasn't registered any surprise at any of this.

45

Where are you headed?

No one answers, but after a moment of silence, Herman does.

Anywhere it’s not like this.

Big Tom nods in understanding, and invites them back to the camp.

We're not much better off, but we have some coffee and

fried potatoes we can share.

Then Big Tom gestures toward the camp and turns to walk back there himself.

Come on back.

46

-Friend and Foe-

In the wooded foothills fringing the valley, quiet preparations have taken

place. In the swirling mist rising from the ground after a recent shower,

construction is going on. A large silver dome is being erected, cranes

lifting a section as orders are barked. The military, it seems, were not

taken by surprise. They prepared for this day with construction supplies, and

have quickly completed the construction of a dome with military hands assigned

to the duty. The dome design is one fashioned after the remnants of sites on

the Moon and Mars, scientifically studied to withstand high winds,

earthquakes, and large enough to enclose their own atmosphere with comfort to

the inhabitants. It is also a design coerced from a contactee, a type the

Zetas inhabit. However, to their surprise and as we later learn, a second dome

has been constructed in the locale, one not inhabited strictly by humans, much

less the military.

General Flood, a vein in his bull neck throbbing, is impatient.

I want this done yesterday! We can expect stragglers

to start arriving, and I'll be damned if they'll find

us out in the open!

His non-commissioned companion, Sergeant Hammond, is hurrying to catch up to

the general. Shorter and slight of build, he looks up at the general, his

voice full of worry.

Sir, I still haven't been able to get through to my

wife and kids. None of us have.

General Flood snaps back.

I told you that'd have to wait! We've got bigger

worries than that right now.

As General Flood and Sergeant Hammond continue walking toward the construction

site, another couple steps out from the tree bank. Jonah is wearing jeans and

a white shirt worn thin by many washings, his dusty boots and ruffled hair

attesting to his careless attitude toward appearances. He is standing next to

a tall Zeta whose post thin body and stick arms are almost shocking when seen

side by side next to the slender Jonah. The Zeta is gesturing toward the

receding military men, his face turning toward Jonah, silently communicating.

In response to this telepathic conversation, Jonah replies.

I know. They stole it from a contactee. But they

don't have much besides the shape. It's not like our

domes.

The Zeta puts his hand on Jonah's shoulder, and glancing up, Jonah replies in

agreement.

Yeah, I know, before we're spotted.

47

At this both, of them rise in the air a few feet and float off, backwards and

away from the scene before them, then dissolving into another dimension.

_______________________________

Jonah and his Zeta companion walk up through the mist in the direction of the

camera, out of the trees that are surrounding a natural clearing. Jonah says,

The injured you brought in have been getting restless

and want to help with the work, they've been asking

for a role.

They are walking toward a large silver dome, toward the entry port at the

ground level.

Off to this side there are several thin Zetas, transporting injured people or

assisting those too weak to walk into the domed city from a dull gray saucer

shaped craft suspended a couple feet off the ground. Those who can't walk are

being transported by levitation, their prone bodies floating alongside a

walking Zeta who is apparently in charge of the levitation and transport.

Billy is out digging for potatoes in a field behind the tent city. It is

gloomy as though early dawn, the trees along the creek starkly outlined

against the gray sky. Their leaves have fallen off, not as they do in fall

when they color and then drop, but because about half have turned a sickly

yellow and dropped while the remaining leaves are still green. Billy is

scrapping and chopping at the soil with a short hoe and digging tool, turning

the earth, looking for potatoes.

He has a cloth sack lying on the ground beside him, lumpy with the few

potatoes he has found. He is dusty and frankly dirty in places, as much from

his work as from infrequent baths. Billy looks solemn and forlorn, with a

slight frown on this face. Billy drops to his knees to dig by hand, failing to

notice that he is no longer alone.

Suddenly Billy notices a thick gray Zeta foot, developed over eons to deal

with a heavy gravity draw, and the thin leg above it. The foot appears to be

booted in a seamless gray material. Billy sees the foot and freezes, but does

48

not look concerned. He eases back into a sitting position, putting his legs

out in front of him a bit, and looks up, squinting.

The Zeta holds a capped vial of smoky colored glass. The long slender fingers

in the Zeta hand are wrapped around the vial, held in place by just a hint of

a thumb, a bump where the thumb should be. Billy starts talking to the Zeta as

though he has been doing this all his life, as though there were nothing

unusual about the scene. He blurts out, in a natural and relaxed voice, as

though talking to a family member he trusts, speaking quickly and with fervor.

She just won't talk to any of us.

At this tears well up in his eyes. Billy continues, with a quiver in his

voice.

She stares at me like she doesn't see me.

His breath quickening as though he were about to start crying in earnest,

tears starting to stream down his face.

I asked her to come with me, digging, so we could skip

stones like we used to, and she didn't even say

nothing. Nothing!

Billy wipes the tears away with the palm of his hand against one cheek,

suddenly jerking his head up and looking clear faced at the Zeta, whose face

we never see. There is a moment of silence as he is obviously listening to

something intently. He glances at the vial and raises his hand to take it

from the Zeta. He smiles slightly through his dusty tears, glancing at the

Zeta briefly during this, by way of thanks.

_______________________________

Though it is mid-day, it is still gloomy, as though a very overcast day during

early dawn at the ranch city. Martha is sorting laundry, looking for items to

be mended, seated on a chair in an open area, the laundry scattered about her

in little piles on the ground. Her two children are behind her on the grass,

Billy bringing Tammy what appears to be a glass of water. Billy sits down

beside her, holding the glass up near her face. Tammy weakly raises a hand,

and Billy uses his own hand in addition to her hand to steady the glass as she

raises it.

Issues around the food shortage and what to eat have come up continually

lately, with creative meal-making resulting. Martha cooks what she and Red

decide is good to eat, and the others are told not to ask. This has included

atypical menu items such as earthworms picked up off the damp grass after the

last rain and some slow moving possums Red has caught, as well as edible

weeds.

49

Big Tom strides in to talk to his wife, squatting before her so they can talk

face to face. He looks up into her face.

We're out, plumb out, and the canned goods are going

fast too.

Martha is unperturbed, as she and Red noticed this long before the others.

She keeps on mending through all of this without missing a stitch, though

looks up and into her husbands eyes a lot, letting him know she has heard him.

She smiles.

Red is bringing some possum back, and I've got some

special soup tonight, you'll see, it'll be all right.

Big Tom pauses, then rises to his feet.

Special soup?

Martha starts picking the laundry up off a pile, folding it on her lap as

though getting ready to go.

Never you mind, it'll be good for you.

_______________________________

It is supper time in the tent city, where the group has gathered around a

glowing camp fire in the center of the makeshift tents. Martha is ladling out

soup, handing bowl after bowl to the group as they come up one at a time.

Some members of the group eat heartily, others sniff and hesitate. Herman

says,

What's in this?

He receives no answer nor even a nod from Martha. All eventually start

eating.

Billy and Tammy who are sitting in the grass behind and somewhat to the side

of Martha as she stands next to the fire and soup pot. Billy takes a bowl to

his sister Tammy, sitting without motion or expression at the perimeter. Tammy

says,

Thanks.

Tammy starts eating matter of factly in a casual manner. Martha has stopped

ladling, her ladle frozen in the air, tears forming in her eyes. She catches

herself, taking a deep breath and tries to disguise the emotion in her voice.

Anyone for more?

Tammy glances at her brother and giggles, sharing a joke, both of them unaware

of the waves of emotion buffeting their placid and reliable mother.

Len and Big Tom sitting at a table. Len says,

There are a lot of stories going around about these

camps. Trucks were seen going in on a regular basis

just ahead of the upheavals.

Big Tom is intrigued.

50

Maybe we should get together a scouting party and find

out what's what?

Always loving a good gossip line, Len continues.

Repeatedly, repeatedly and sometimes on a daily basis!

Jed ain't the only one who seed it either, plenty

others seed it too.

Len scoops some soup up with a piece of bread and after biting a piece off

continues with great seriousness.

I'm telling you, they've got a camp there, they got

supplies, and that's where we should be heading.

What they find is not a warm welcome, but interrogation.

_______________________________

Crossing an open field, Big Tom, Len, Herman, and Jane who has insisted that

the woman's touch was needed, are trudging through the overcast day, backpacks

or cloth sacks thrown over shoulders, boots on and jackets open, wearing their

clothing supplies rather than carrying them in suitcases.

Jane brings up the rear, though she is following Len who is actually the slow

one. Jane is doing this out of consideration, steadying him now and then if

he loses his balance by putting a hand up against his back pack, unbeknownst

to him. A kind hearted person, she can see this veteran is a weakened man,

struggling not to show it.

Len is pointing toward a cleft in the hills looming up ahead.

Over there, they drove up and just plumb disappeared

between those hills. Ain't nothing in there that

anyone knows, and the signs say ‘Private Property’.

A lookout on the hilltop is watching the four-some trudging toward him. He

picks up a portable phone and talks into it, softly.

Incoming, 4 o'clock.

The group is approaching a cleft in the hills, trees on both sides. Len is

talking animatedly, waving his arm in this direction or that while he

describes what he or others have seen from a distance. Jane is glancing slowly

from side to side, scanning the skimpy forest they are approaching with a

half-curious look on her face. Suddenly Jane freezes, her hand raising in the

direction of the woods they are fast approaching, her warning frozen in her

throat as a military warning booms out.

Halt! Halt or be fired upon! Identify yourselves.

_______________________________

51

A single table is furnished in the large bare room, the lights dim everywhere

but in the center of the room over the table. The foursome come stumbling

into the room, glancing over their shoulders, more worried about what is

behind them than in front of them. General Flood comes walking out of the

shadows opposite their entry.

Who led you here? This installation isn't on the map!

Who led you here!

His voice is firm and his questions posed as though he didn't expect any

resistance. Len is almost squirming, and the others glance at him.

Well Sir, I was formerly in the military and ..

At which point Len gets rudely interrupted by General Flood.

Stick to the point! Who led you here!

Len gulps.

I did.

Big Tom and Jane have been taken aside to another interrogation room by a

group of military interrogators in shirt sleeves with their sleeves rolled up

past their elbows, ties off and shirt collars open. This room is small and

close, so the interrogators are literally in the faces of those they are

questioning. Big Tom and Jane are being questioned relentlessly with staccato

questions meant to rattle them. The questions are broadly based. Colonel Cage

asks,

How many in your group?

Big Tom responds.

My family? Are you including the townsfolk?

Another interrogator asks,

Where did you say you were when it happened?

Big Tom starts to respond.

I was at the ranch, but ..

But is interrupted by a second interrogator.

Herman, who?

Still struggling to answer the questions put to him, Big Tom says,

He’s, he’s the major of the town.

Big Tom is trying to answer the question as though they are factual, not

understanding, as Jane does intuitively, that they are intended to rattle

them. She is composed, and finally confronts them in a clear calm voice.

How long do you think it will be before the whole town

arrives? What will you do with them?

Her question silences the interrogators, as she has seen past their bravado to

their point of panic.

52

_______________________________

Finally allowed out into the camp yard, Big Tom and Jane come out a door to

join Herman and Len. They are all standing close together, waiting, in the

center of a complex of bland colored huts.

General Flood and his ever present attaché, Sergeant Hammond, are to the side,

being briefed by the interrogators, Colonel Cage among them. Colonel Cage is

shaking his head slightly as he walks up to the group, indicating their lack

of success. General Flood reports.

It doesn't matter, the little rat broke. They came

from the Shaw ranch just north of here.

The General pauses, then says:

Make sure they aren't followed.

General Flood turns abruptly and walks off, leaving his orders ambiguous.

_______________________________

A despondent Big Tom and Jane and their guards are returning to the farm,

backtracking along the path taken to reach the camp. The path is going along

a narrow valley between rolling hills. All are walking single file. The half

dozen military men are holding weapons, casually pointed down and to the side

as they walk but nevertheless at the ready.

Big Tom is in the lead, and is walking slowly, trying to think of escape and

stalling, not wanting to lead them back to his family. The soldier behind him

gives him a shove, making him stumble slightly. Colonel Cage, who has been

walking behind Jane, comes forward quickly, reprimanding the soldier in a

quick aside, and begins walking side by side with Big Tom. Colonel Cage picks

up the pace to put a little distance between themselves and the others, and

begins to talk to Big Tom quietly.

Is there a break up ahead where we can take a stand?

Big Tom doesn't miss a beat, having sized up the colonel as a good man, and

after a moment of mulling it over, answers.

At the creek up ahead. It gets rough ..

The conversation is interrupted, Colonel Cage jerking his head around, hearing

a slight but familiar sound, and immediately bolts back along the line. He

says,

Where is she!

His question is met with a cold stare, but as Jane and two of the soldiers

have disappeared, the Colonel has his answer.

53

Colonel Cage continues back along the trail, picking up his pace, and soon

finds what he feared. Behind a group of trees, Jane is struggling with one of

the men who is trying to tear her pants down, while the other holds the

automatic weapon in a relaxed manner, watching and leaning back against a

tree.

The soldier with the gun jerks his head around, seeing Colonel Cage running up

to them. The rapist shoves Jane away and quickly adjusts his pants at the

fly, trying to conceal what he was up to. The soldier with the gun raises his

gun and shoots Jane, who has staggered back, in the face with a short burst

from the automatic. Colonel Cage wrenches the gun away from the soldier. The

soldier says,

She was trying to escape.

Without missing a beat, Colonel Cage lowers the weapon and shoots this soldier

in the stomach, swinging it quickly to do the same to the rapist. While the

two of them are writhing on the ground, in agony, Colonel Cage walks over to

Jane, determining at a glance that she is solidly dead as her head is

essentially blown off. He turns on his heels and strides back the way he

came, his face full of tension and a film of sweat on his pale face. He is

breathing heavily, from the run and adrenaline, and runs his fingers thought

his hair, front to back, combing it as he strides back to the waiting line of

men.

Lets go.

He walks to the front to rejoin Big Tom who is waiting with an anxious look on

his face.

They're all dead, it's over.

_______________________________

The women are washing clothes on some rocks along the creek. Netty is

snappish with Daisy, who is sitting back and barely dipping her batch of

laundry into the water, as though she expects to be rescued. Netty snaps at

her.

I'm not going to do it for you this time. Wake up to

it, it's this or living grungie.

Clara is washing vigorously, a worried look on her face. Finally she sits

back on her haunches, facing Martha.

Do you think we'll ever see them again?

Martha glances quickly over her shoulder, seeing her children playing along

the creek bed behind them, out of ear shot.

Big Tom knows this area and Len knows how to talk to

them.

54

Martha hasn't answered the question, but it is apparent by her face that she

too is worried and just trying to keep a calm front. Suddenly Tammy shouts.

Dad!

Tammy is running and Billy jumps to his feet to follow her. Big Tom and

Colonel Cage walk out of the woods, followed by the three remaining soldiers.

The women have risen to their feet as Big Tom walks up to Martha with a grim

look in his face. Martha is anxious, glancing over his shoulder and flitting

her eyes back to meet his quickly.

Where's the others?

The grim look on his face is her answer, and she flutters a hand quickly to

her mouth, and utters quietly.

Oh, no!

Clara is next, standing just behind Martha where we can see her anxious face.

Where's Len? Where are they! In God's name tell me

what happened!

Big Tom puts his left hand on her shoulder.

They're fine, fine, don't get excited. They stayed

behind and they're all fine.

Martha is leaning her face into her husband's shoulder, biting her trembling

lower lip and fighting tears, trying to use an embrace and joy over seeing her

husband again to disguise her grief from the rest of the women and her

children.

55

-On the Move-

Danny is explaining to Mark and a restless Brian about the pole shift,

relaying what he can remember from Professor Isaac's rambling dissertation.

It happens ever few thousand years, and what's left of

mankind starts over again. I guess we're lucky to be

alive.

Brian is moving continuously but in a slow manner, pausing after each move for

a moment, first raising partially up and then sitting down again, crossing one

leg and then uncrossing and crossing the other leg, putting his hands on his

knees and then crossing his arms, swatting behind his neck and looking at his

hand for a bug that isn't there, moving his head from side to side as though

looking in every direction - restless and a bit paranoid.

Mark is in denial about what has happened, the pole shift, even though he has

experienced it.

Yeah, well, I don't believe any of it. If something

like that was going to happen the government would

have told us. I think is was just an earthquake.

A look of relief crosses Mark’s face as he sees Big Tom and the women

approaching.

Hey, there they are.

Mark starts to rise from his seat to greet the group coming back from the

creek. Danny turns also, a smile on his face, but the smile slowly disappears

as he sees missing members. Brian has bolted into the tents at the sight of

the military men. Big Tom sets the tone and takes charge of the big lie.

They're waiting for us and we have to pack up and join

them.

Happy to hear this news, Danny starts nodding his head and muttering.

Cool, we're out'a here.

Daisy comes up to him, immediately starting her whining mode again as she

thinks things are back to normal again.

I'll need to see the hair stylist right away, my

hair's a mess!

She is tugging at her pants and blouse, trying to straighten up and adjust

back into appearance expectations she had put aside.

Big Tom crawls into the tent where a sleepy Frank is just waking up from a

nap.

Come on, guy, time to move out.

Frank blinks and says,

You're back? Where's Jane?

56

Big Tom keeps up the big lie, speaking calmly.

We're going to meet them. Hurry up, grab your things.

_______________________________

Martha is sorting items to take, putting most aside after a moment’s

hesitation on some items, as though she has regrets about leaving them,

selecting only a few. She signs, sits back from being on her knees in the tent

to sitting on her butt with her legs tucked under her. She looks up from the

items she has been sorting. A Zeta has come to sit across from her, long thin

legs folded Yoga style and elbows on each knee, hands held out in the center

as though a dialog were going on. Martha says,

I’m going to miss you. ..

Suddenly smiling and brightening, even laughing a bit in relief as she

realizes how foolish was her thought that contact was somehow tied to the

ranch, where she has lived all her life.

Oh.

Rolling back onto her knees and continuing to sort, now with more fervor and

energy, getting back to the urgent task at hand. Martha is smiling to herself.

_______________________________

The group is leaving the farm, carrying only pillowcases stuffed with personal

items. Martha stops briefly, turning slightly to glance back at the ranch

with a long lingering sad look at the home and lifestyle she knows she will

never see again. Tammy is at her side. Tammy says,

Do you think they'll have a doll house?

Martha, wanting to encourage her daughter's recent return to normalcy,

chatters back brightly.

Wouldn't be surprised. I'll bet they'll even be some

other little girls your age.

In the background, Netty is letting her big bay run free, removing its harness

and giving it a slap as it canters out into the open field. On the run, the

horse could not be concealed.

Colonel Cage is walking with Frank, who has just been told of his wife's

death. He is talking this stoically, and they are walking at the side of the

others who have spread out and are not in a line any longer. Frank is pale

and barely moving.

At least she didn't suffer.

The Colonel is still enraged at what had occurred.

No, but I made sure they did!

57

_______________________________

Big Tom and Danny are taking the lead. Big Tom is explaining the situation to

Danny.

.. Don't know where we're going, but we had to leave,

and soon. They were sent to kill us.

His face is grim, and he glances repeatedly at Danny's face as he says this,

checking out the terrain ahead of them in between these glances. The pace is

not slow, and the field is rough so one has to watch their step. Danny looks

confused and troubled, keeps looking like he wants to say something but stops

when the words don't come together. Finally he manages.

So they're all dead, Len and Herman?

Big Tom pauses, faced with a question he himself does not want to face.

I don't know, but we have to assume that, I guess.

Just don't say anything to the women.

Mark and Brian have lagged behind, Brian repeatedly sitting down and crying,

curling up into a ball and wailing softly. Mark looks consternated, as the

others are ahead of him already. He glances at the retreating line of people

ahead of him, debating whether to call for help, and decides not. Mark sits

down beside Brian, putting his arms around him, rubbing his back, cradling his

head against his shoulder. Brian is almost imperceptibly.

I just want to go home.

Mark has a calm, thoughtful look on his face, and then pushes Brian back so he

can look into his face.

Well, maybe we can do just that!

Mark is almost surprised to find the plane wreck looking as they had left it,

the plane nosed into trees at the edge of a creek, the propellers twisted and

one wing bent at a right angle. Mark and Brian are walking toward the plane,

hurriedly, while Mark is talking excitedly.

Remember that air balloon jet I was taking to the

club? I'll bet we can rig something up! We've got

the parachutes, and heck, if we can just get out of

this earthquake zone ..

_______________________________

Night is falling, and the group leaving the farm is making camp. Straw beds

have been made from straw gathered from a wheat field. No campfire has been

lit, for safety, so they are eating cold food scraps they have brought -

boiled potatoes and water from a nearby creek. Daisy is making a face after

taking a swig, and Colonel Cage explains.

It's chlorine, so you don't get the runs.

58

Clara makes a nervous aside to Martha, in a quiet voice.

Why won't they let us start a fire? I don't like the

feel of this, something's wrong!

Big Tom, overhearing this, senses that he needs to calm the group. He

addresses the group, speaking in a loud voice so all can hear.

We're being careful not to alert anyone that we're

traveling though. We don't want any trouble. Just

taking precautions.

Billy is helping Red spread some straw they've brought in from the nearby

field, and complains to his grandpa.

It's all itchy. Why did we have to move?

Red, who has apparently been briefed by his son earlier, replies.

We couldn't stay at the ranch forever, son, running

out of food and all like we were.

The group eases down onto the straw as the last of the daylight fades, too

exhausted to object any more.

_______________________________

The next morning the group is stirring at dawn. The Sun not yet up but the

early dawn provides enough light that we can see the outline of trees in the

distance and here and there a member of the group rising to stand and stretch.

When it is clear that they are all awake, Martha has an announcement.

I’ve nothing for breakfast. I’m sorry. Here’s what I

suggest we do. Each of us keep our eyes out for

something edible during our walk today. Maybe by

nightfall we can have a feast.

Frank pats his shirt pocket and smiles when he feels a familiar friend there.

He draws out a pocket sized guide and holds it aloft.

I’ve got a book, a book on edible weeds and mushrooms.

Take it camping every time just in case I get lost in

the woods or something.

Then, under his breath to himself as he realizes for once he, Frank, is the

hero. A slight smile touches his face. Alive again, with a role to play after

the loss of his wife Jane.

How about that.

_______________________________

The group is limping along with less energy than the day before. Clara, who

is middle aged, is frankly dragging, and Netty comes up to her to take her

59

sack. The group is strung out in a line. Big Tom and Colonel Cage are at the

front of the line, approaching some low rolling hills.

Frank is walking side by side with Billy, who is leaning close now and then to

look at a picture in Frank’s small pocket sized handbook on wild edibles.

Frank is gesturing, and Billy glances up now and then to look at Frank in the

face, to be polite, but clearly would rather just have the book.

. . These are safe, but there’s some others in here

that we don’t want ..

Martha and Tammy are scouting as they go, only stepping off the trail for a

moment to pluck a likely weed, then sampling a leave or flower as they pick up

the pace to return to their place in line. Martha has grabbed a purple flower

off a thistle, takes a nibble and hands a bite down to Tammy for her to taste

test too. They smile at each other.

_______________________________

A large black rat snake has been startled from its nap in the sun and has

started to wriggle into the protection of some tall grass. A military boot

suddenly stomps down on the snake toward its tail, nailing it to the ground.

One of the soldiers drops a rock on the snake’s head and the snake stops

wriggling.

_______________________________

A creek, gurgling through the woods, is under both sunlight and shade as it

winds it way past tall trees and dense woods. Red has stepped into the water

on one side, scooping up a lacy light green plant growing in the water along

the bank. Red loads his left arm with the harvest while grabbing handfuls with

60

his right hand, oblivious to the fact that his left side is getting muddy and

wet. He has a smile on his face. Water cress is a find on a day when even a

plain salad will be appreciated.

_______________________________

Netty and Danny are walking together, Netty almost on top of Danny who is in

the lead. She is earnestly explaining something to Danny, who has a worried

look on his face, not wanting to hear, and seems to almost be trying to put

distance between the two of them to avoid it. Netty keeps closing the gap,

though, talking nonstop.

. . All over the world. We’re about the only culture

that doesn’t do it. Lots of fat and protein. . . Well

what else are we going to bring to the pot tonight?

Got any better ideas?

They round a large tree and find a fallen tree trunk at the side of the path,

moldered halfway into the ground, the bark falling off. Netty points and

strides over to the trunk.

There! Lets check this for grubs.

Danny has a horrified look on his face, but stops to watch as Netty kicks at

the trunk, pushing it over and dropping to her knees in the soft wood chips,

digging with a piece of bark. She pulls another, larger piece of bark toward

her and is putting white grubs on this, working quickly so the grubs don’t

escape into the soft ground. She looks over her shoulder at the reluctant

Danny, tossing him a smile.

Oh for heaven’s sake! Get over yourself, city boy!

_______________________________

Big Tom and Colonel Cage are at the head of the line. Big Tom looks over his

shoulder as they walk along a tree line and sees that many in the group are

not keeping up as they are taking time out to hunt and gather. The group is

stretched out at least a half mile long, with a gap between those following

and the two leaders. Big Tom says,

61

I know there’s trout in these streams, and I’ve been

trying to think of how to catch them. No time for a

hook and line, that’s for sure.

Big Tom is shucking off his jacket and hands it to Colonel Cage while he

shucks off his long sleeved shirt. He ties a knot in each sleeve and buttons

the neck as high as it will go. Not missing a stride as he does this, he veers

toward the stream that they have been following as it runs along the tree bank

and steps into a pool.

You go upstream a bit and chase them toward me. Lets

see if this works.

Big Tom straddles the stream at a narrow point at the end of the pool, holding

his shirt bottom like a net between his two hands. His fingers are splayed

open, holding the shirt open, and his feet are braced on either side, blocking

the way. Colonel Cage can be seen in the background, stepping gingerly into

the stream and turning to move toward Big Tom.

_______________________________

The group has taken shelter for the night against a rock outcropping, in part

for shelter against a threatening rain storm and in part to hide a small

cooking fire they plan to light. Hungry and weary, they ease themselves into

the soft dirt, looking discouraged and dusty. Big Tom has hung his wet shirt

on a branch, and jacket open is laid back with eyes closed, a sleepy child in

each armpit curled up against him.

One of the soldiers has arranged a fire pit – a circle of rocks with all

litter cleared away for several feet. He is using a branch as a brush,

sweeping the ground clear. Next he moves quickly through the woods nearby,

grabbing at kindling. He kneels and starts twirling a sturdy branch against a

flat piece of bark, and within a minute a spark forms, which is quickly fanned

and fed with dried moss.

Martha is to the side, out of the shelter of the overhang, arranging the

camping pots and plates the group has carried with them. She is digging

62

through backpacks, and Clara and Red step forward into blowing mist to help.

Martha will prepare what the group has gathered in the rain, if need be,

because there isn’t enough room under the overhang for all the activity. The

fire and dry sleeping quarters are more important, in her mind. The three lay

out what has been gathered and washed – water cress, grubs, mushrooms, thistle

flowers, and fish and snake fillets.

Red and Clara are arranging the cress, thistle flowers, and mushrooms on a

plate and passing it to the group huddled under the overhang. Red says,

Here’s your vitamins, eat hearty.

The platter is being passed down the line, each taking a pinch and stuffing it

into their mouths. Danny brightens.

This is not bad! Wish I had some ranch dressing. .. Ah

well.

Martha is at the fire, fish and snake meat in a pan with a little water. She

puts a lit over the pan and nestles it into the fire. Martha has a bowl

filled with the white grubs which are twisting from side to side. Martha takes

a large spoon and starts mashing the grubs, then frothing them with a fork.

She pulls the covered pan out of the fire and using her skirt as a hot pad

lifts the lid, showing cooked fish and snake inside with only a little water

left in the pan. Martha forks the meat onto the platter, which has now been

returned free of salad, and serves up the next course with a smile. She passes

the platter to Red, who can be seen turning to take it to the group huddled

under the overhang.

And here’s your protein – fish and, ahm . . chicken.

Martha pours the frothed grubs into the pan, and holds it over the fire,

stirring feverishly. When the mess looks like cooked egg whites, she quickly

turns and scoops it onto another platter, pulling a sprig of some herb she has

collected during the day from her pocket as a garnish.

And for desert we have pudding.

Billy’s face as he pulls a grub’s brown leg out from between his teeth, his

eyes widening at the sight.

_______________________________

Big Tom and Colonel Cage are out ahead of the others. They round a bend and

stop short. We can't see what they're seeing, but gauge it to be horrific

from the look on their faces. Big Tom glances quickly at Colonel Cage,

understanding passing between them without words, and turns on his heel

quickly to stop the others from rounding the bend. He jogs up to Danny and

Frank who are next in line.

Keep the others back, but send Netty forward.

63

Danny nods in understanding while Frank stands stock still, pale and worried,

the continuous trauma and events beyond his ability to cope. He has given up,

essentially.

_______________________________

The scene before Colonel Cage is horrific, even for one with military

training. Some clothing is strewn about, a child's shoe. A man’s shoe and

pant leg, covered in blood. A woman thrown into the bushes, her head bloodied

as though bludgeoned. Danny, Big Tom, Colonel Cage, and Netty stand next to

the fire taking this scene in, their faces grim. Colonel Cage finally breaks

the silence.

I've heard this was going on. Cannibalism. We got some

reports, places where they had the radio up, and they

were under attack like this.

Big Tom is staring at him with an alarmed look on his face, the obvious

thought that they are walking into danger, danger that he hadn't been told

about, on this mind.

What the fuck did you bring us here for! What were you

thinking!

Colonel Cage glances at him briefly, then back at the scene.

We got other reports too, some groups were doing OK,

and I figured out their general location.

His face darkens as he realizes this might not be a local affair.

I hope to God my wife and kids are OK. The general

didn't let any personal calls go through.

Netty says,

We can't let them see this!

Her comment brings them all back to the immediate situation.

We'll tell them there's a washout.

_______________________________

Mark and Brian are floating through a low-lying cloud. The day is continuously

overcast, gray with blowing clouds almost at ground level, and drizzling

continuously. All is gray, and they both are being powdered with a fine

volcanic soot which has turned the pair and their clothing light gray and

streaked. Brian is hanging down below Mark, in a parachute seat, looking

around with wide frightened eyes.

Mark is holding the hot air jet gingerly in his arms, pointed up into a double

parachute arrangement above him. He rarely puffs the jet, as the wind catches

them and propels them with rapid bursts now and then. Mark is using the jet

64

sparingly, only when the wind dies down between bursts and they begin to drift

toward the ground.

Below them are flooded farmlands and a town, a church steeple and silo

sticking up above the water, and occasional rooftops with people huddled in

the center. One waves frantically at the floating pair, hoping to be rescued.

Off to the side, in the distance, is a new cliff where the land has been

sheered upward by a couple hundred feet. Shreds of city housing are clinging

to the top of the new cliff, as well as crumpled along the bottom, with

wreckage clinging to the cliff itself.

_______________________________

The group traveling overland has arrived to find the highway bridge they hoped

to use to cross the river in shambles. The middle section of the reinforced

concrete bridge is completely displaced, sticking up from the river, 100 feet

away from where the bridge is, having moved. The day is overcast, as usual,

but as the group is standing on the river bank there is a slight breeze, which

all appreciate. There is no evidence of activity. No boats, no people on

shore, nothing but the expanse of water and the breeze ruffling the calm

surface and the soiled and tattered clothing hanging from the tired bodies of

the group as they arrive, one by one, to look.

65

Clara raises her skirts and wades into the water up to her hips, a look of

relief on her face. Seeing this, Billy looks up into his mother's face and

begs.

Mom, can we go swimming?

Big Tom, looking over the torn bridge, is trying to come to grips with the

forces that would have rearranged this familiar landscape.

I wouldn't do that until we learn what might be under

the water, and there might be an undertow.

A fog horn blares softly. The group sees a large boat being rowed from the

opposite side toward them. The boat is a raft, cobbled together from various

boards, with half a dozen men rowing, three on each side. The fog horn has

been to signal their approach. Martha glances nervously at Colonel Cage,

whose face is calm as they would not be announcing themselves if the approach

was malicious. Big Tom's face relaxes, and he walks over to his wife, putting

an arm around her shoulder as they watch and wait.

As the boat approaches they see that the men are thin but energetic, many with

bare very tan arms sticking out from their tattered shirts. They look over

their shoulders as they row, for aim, as there appears to be no leader in the

group. As the boat approaches, Big Tom and Danny step into the water to help

guide it to shore. The men in the boat are obviously unarmed, and dismount the

boat by clinging to the sides and sticking a leg into the water. These are

not boatmen, but landsmen who have learned how to cross the river.

Ian, the first man to step out of the boat, approaches with a broad smile on

his face, his hand extended.

Welcome, we're the group that survived at Bridgewater,

and we've set up a camp on the bluff over there. Where

are you from?

_______________________________

The last boat is arriving at Bridgewater. Big Tom and Martha are with their

children, gathering their things, obviously having arrived on an earlier boat.

Several crossings having taken place. Colonel Cage and Danny are among the

last group to cross, having stayed behind to guard the rear while Big Tom went

across with his wife and children, whom everyone agreed should be first.

Colonel Cage is feeling a bit of relief, and feels he can talk to those on the

boat openly, now that the women and children are not present. With a backdrop

of steady sloshing as the oars dip and pull, he queries Ian.

How many groups like yours are you aware of?

Ian says,

66

We're the only one, though for awhile there seemed to

be a group in the foothills, but their fires stopped

after a few weeks and we feel sure they're dead.

Colonel Cage gets right to the point, his jaw firm and face relaxed as he has

been trained to look danger straight in the face without flinching.

Have you had any run-ins with gangs, cannibalism?

Ian takes a moment to respond.

We've got a good position here, the river on one side

and the mountains on the other. Not many can get to

us unless we bring them over, like we did you. So I

guess we've not been the best target, thank God.

Colonel Cage and Ian are walking up the hill toward the camp from the river

bank. A group of women at the side of the trail are stirring something in a

pot over an open fire. Colonel Cage and Ian pass a woman pouring water into a

V shaped trough while another woman removes a drainage tray from under the

trough, replacing it with an empty tray. The trough is filled with gray ashes

with some chunks of blackened wood here and there, clearly ashes from a fire.

Phew . . Is that for supper?

Ian says,

They’re making soap. Fat and lye. Works well enough

but it’ll take the hair off your chest.

Ian has flashed a smile at Colonel Cage as they continue walking up the trail,

past a low table where a metal rack of soap forms is sitting inside a square

cake pan, a crisscross of metal sides where a dozen or more soap bars can

harden. The pot from the fire is brought over and a thick, beige colored,

steaming mixture is poured across the rack.

_______________________________

It is evening at the River Camp, where the women are having their first hot

tub bath in weeks. There is relaxed laughter from the steamy bathing hut. A

stocky town’s woman approaches from the hut with several clean towels over her

arm.

Inside the bathing hut Daisy is scrubbing her hair vigorously. She sinks back

into the tub to rinse her hair off, going under the water totally and emerging

with an ecstatic look on her face. She's home, once again, to where she can

expect the pampering she thinks is her due. Martha is toweling off Tammy, who

is chattering brightly about some friends she's met.

.. and they’re making a doll house too, but right now

they only have the mice to run through it. So maybe we

should call it the mouse house!

67

Tammy giggles, putting her hand to her mouth and looking up at her mother. Her

mother is visibly relieved, a calm contented look on her face. Clara is

soaking in a tub, submersed up to her chin and not moving.

I think I'll be here forever.

Netty is not among them.

_______________________________

Outside along the river bluff Colonel Cage and Big Tom and Netty are watching

the Sun go down, with Ian. They stand quietly, watching the brilliant

display. Ian says,

Compliments of the volcanic dust.

Netty asks,

Dust?

Breaking out of his thoughtful mood, Ian explains.

Oh, I mean we wouldn't have such a sunset if it

weren't for the volcanic dust. That's what I've

heard. When the Philippines went up we'd have these

kind of sunsets for awhile, but these are more

brilliant than anything I've ever seen. Guess that's

why we have such gloomy days, too.

The group turns their faces back to the sunset and falls silent, all in

thought.

_______________________________

It’s dawn, and birds are starting to chirp and sing irrepressibly. The river

water is placid. Big Tom and Red, who have arisen, used to farm hours where

everyone gets up at dawn or earlier. Big Tom is reaching into the back of his

shirt collar, pulling out a piece of straw. Their clothes have not been washed

as yet, nor have the men had a bath, having giving the women folk the first

opportunity.

I hear there was an old timer living here. Had a

garden and all.

Red says,

I talked to the guy last night. Trying to make the

tractor run on wood chips. Dangest thing I ever heard

of, but he claims it’s done.

Then pondering the mechanical challenge, Red voices his decision in a soft

voice with a hint of determination. This old man doesn’t back away from a

challenge.

I’m going to give him a hand.

_______________________________

68

Red and the old timer, who is scrawny and dressed in a very dirty cover-all,

are in the old barn of the original homestead at Bridgewater. The barn is

tilting badly to one side, but has fallen against some trees so did not topple

entirely. The old barn has lifted off its foundation, on the opposite side, so

the light of day is giving the barn workroom plenty of light. Red is

inspecting tools laid on the workbench and casting his eyes along the rack of

tools hung on the wall, taking an inventory.

A gas, you say? Never heard of it.

The old timer is now seated on a low stool at the front of a small tractor.

The tractor is almost antique, many decades old with the paint almost entirely

worm off or covered in grime, rusty in places. The tilling blades in the rig

drawn behind the tractor are held in the raised position, some dried grass

stuck to them here and there. The tractor engine cover is lifted up. Red grabs

a pail and turns it upside down to use as a stool, squatting next to the old

timer. Both their heads are almost pushed into the engine, side by side, along

with the old timer’s right hand, pointing, his elbow stuck out into the air at

a right angle. He says,

Put the fire bin here, and just kinda heat the wood

slow, that’s the ticket. It’s a gas! We need a coil

here, and a cutoff . .

_______________________________

Big Tom is standing in the doorway of the tilted old barn, leaning against the

raised side of the door with his arms folded over his chest. He now looks as

though he’s had a bath, and is wearing some fresh clothes, borrowed from

others at the camp. The borrowed shirt is too tight, too small, and the pants

too short.

Need a hand?

Red looks up from his work, an almost ecstatic look on his face.

I believe we got it!

Red gestures back toward the work bench where a square metal container has had

a door cut into the top for loading wood chips. A hose is looping out from one

side to collect the wood gas, with a collection jar below the loop to collect

the distilled wood gas. Wood gas is dripping into the collection jar. There

are slits cut into the side of the firing chamber, toward the bottom, for air

intake. There is another drain on the other side where steam has condensed

into water and is dripping out.

69

The old timer rises to dismantle the apparatus, eager to bring the firing

chamber over to Red. He pulls his hand back quickly, realizing it is still

hot.

Damn!

Billy appears in the doorway, alongside his father. He quickly brightens into

an ecstatic look that mirror’s Red attitude.

Cool!

_______________________________

The camp folks have their backs to some woods with a fallow field in front of

them. The faces reflect skepticism. A chugging motor is starting up very

haltingly. Finally, the motor is doing a steady chug-chug. The faces of the

camp folk reflect astonishment, some blinking, one a bit teary eye’d, some

just gap jawed.

The antique tractor is slowly plowing a row in the fallow field, the camp folk

to the side along the woods. The wood gas apparatus can be seen stuck to the

side of the tractor engine on one side. A couple camp folks, men, have come

forward to talk to Billy and Big Tom who are squatting on the stool and

upturned pail from the barn, energetically chopping some branches gathered

from the nearby wood into chips with an ax.

_______________________________

Mark and Brian have floated rapidly from the Rockies to an approach to New

York City. The strong wind is obviously dragging them along at a fairly rapid

70

clip, the parachutes ahead of them and filled out like a sail. They have been

traveling for days, are dirty with smeared faces where they have wiped the

dust off but not bathed, when landing for some sleep. A week has passed since

they left, and they appear thinner than when they left. Brian has pulled his

legs up and appears to be pulling himself up into a fetal position, his arms

around his knees. We see his long hair floating out in the wind. Mark is

excited.

Brian, there it is, there's the city! We're home,

home! Lets find a good place to bring this down.

Mark is looking up while he positions his hands on the ropes. When he glances

down, to mentally prepare his descent path, a grim look comes over this face.

The Statue of Liberty is seen tilted at a 45 degree angle, with the remnants

of a sailboat caught in and dangling from the flame, seaweed shreds up to her

chin. No high rises remain standing, but the city skyline looks like a rubble

instead, black in outline against the gray skies. Bridges are disconnected

with most sections down. No boats are seen on the water, but a couple large

ocean going vessels can be see floating, bottom up.

Mark's eyes have filled with tears, and he glances upward, not wanting to look

down. Finally he glances down to check on Brian, talking to himself.

At least you're not there to see all this. Time to

say goodby. Nothing left to live for.

Mark points the hot air jet directly at the parachute lines, melting them one

by one. The rig begin to tip to the side, suddenly plunging into the ocean

below.

71

-Harms Way-

Colonel Cage is fluffing the bedding he's been given, a cloth bag filled with

straw. He's laid his clothing out across the end of the bed, neatly as a

military man would do, and is down to his underwear, a grimly T-shirt and pair

of boxer shorts. He adjusts the back of his T-shirt collar, and then leans

back into the straw tick bedding, with a sigh. A puzzled look comes over his

face, and he fusses with the back of the T-shirt collar again, this time

getting an alarmed look, pulling the T-shirt over his face and staring at the

collar now in front of his face.

Oh, my God ..

Colonel Cage and Ian are in the council room. The light is dim, only a single

oil lamp burning, placed on the table. Colonel Cage has gotten Ian out of bed.

He's holding his T-shirt in front of him, under Ian's nose, shaking with rage.

Damn them to hell, they've bugged me, they know where

we are, and they'll be coming after us!

Ian looks puzzled and glances up into Colonel CageS’s eyes, staring steadily

by way of asking for an explanation. Colonel Cage sighs and seeing he has to

fill in the pieces, struggles to calm down.

It’s a wire. I didn't know I was carrying it. If it’s

live and I've got no reason to think it’s not, they

can trace me, trace this thing, and it'll lead them

right to where we're at.

A thought crosses his mind and he suddenly drops the T-shirt to the floor and

grinds the shirt collar under his heel until he hears a crunch.

But you don't know how long it’s been there, or even

if it works.

Colonel Cage’s face goes blank, as he realizes that he can't give Ian and the

others all the insight that he has, an impossible education in too short a

time. He finally explains, after struggling with himself over the issue.

Expect the worst.

_______________________________

The fog horn blowing softly again, a signal that some visitors have arrived at

the river bank across the river. Colonel Cage, uneasy from the night before,

jerks and twitches in his sleep, his eyes suddenly opening with a start. The

men's hut is a bunk for over a dozen men, all with similar primitive bedding

arrangements, all out in the open. Colonel Cage slips into his pants and

takes off toward the door, even before his pants are buttoned.

72

Ian is standing under a tree where he is barely visible in the shadows.

Colonel Cage walks up to him, his white T-shirt visible as a waving flag as he

moves between the trees. Ian says,

You've been seen.

A sleepy Colonel Cage quickly flattens himself behind a tree.

Too late, they've sighted you.

A group of men is on the shoreline across the river, dressed in dirty casual

clothes. Colonel Cage, his jaw tight and slightly twitching with the tension,

speaks in a soft voice, almost to himself.

I'll bet that's them. They've been killing and eating

families.

Ian glances at Colonel Cage, not shocked as he's suspected as much.

I'll post a watch to make sure they don't cross.

_______________________________

Frank is vigorously chopping at a pile of green chunks, the original

vegetables no longer recognizable, both hands on the chopper and heaving his

shoulders into it. He is chatting away non-stop with Madge, the stocky cook,

who is reaching into her herb jars.

The Death Card came up, and we all knew this was

coming ..

Madge has a grim look on her face, her perpetual expression, and says nothing,

but Frank is not put off. She hands him another handful of roots to chop. The

soft sound of a chopper's blades are barely heard at first, but increase in

volume. Frank stops, mid-chop, to listen intently. A silent black whisper

chopper is coming along the river, in the center of the river, but veers

toward the bluff.

_______________________________

Ian touches each camp member as they hurry past him, their personal belongings

clutched in their arms. All are rushing, single file, into the woods and into

a ravine, out of sight of anyone on the river or in the air. No one is

hysterical or challenging Ian's decision.

In the woman's hut, Danny is pleading with Daisy to come along. She seems

unaware of any danger, is brushing it all off, and is treating him like a

hysteric.

.. You don't understand, people have been killed,

women raped, we just haven't told you!

Daisy says,

73

Danny, don't you see how good things are here? I've

gotten my nails to grow out again, and we can bathe

anytime we want to!

Danny looks dismayed, is speechless, a consternated look on his face. He

realizes for the first time how deep her self obsession runs. A tall couple

walks in, picking through the belongings left behind, and Danny stares at them

with comprehension. She won't be alone!

Well, I'm not staying here to die with you, suit

yourself.

Danny turns away, heading out the door to catch up with the rest.

_______________________________

In a clearing in the woods, Ian is taking a head count as the group silently

passes by him in single file. Ian admonishes.

Stay together now, stay close together!

The stragglers at the end are coming with larger breaks between them. Ian

turns to his assistant, a tall thin woman with her gray hair in a severe bun.

I didn't see the little boy and his granddad, or the

last of that bunch.

The assistant has a clipboard in her hands and has been checking things off as

the group passed.

That young woman and the newspaper man, they're

missing too.

Netty comes trudging into the clearing, trying to keep the end of the group

ahead of her in sight. She sees Ian and his assistant standing there and

smiles broadly, reassured that she hasn't lost them. She looks over her

shoulder as she walks on to the right, keeping track of those behind her.

Billy is some distance behind her on the trail, pausing to pick something up

off the ground, bending over, his boyish curiosity at play. As he does this

there is rustling in the bushes at the side of the path. Billy jerks upright,

his mouth open and eyes wide. The alpha dog in a wild pack, a large boxer so

lean he looks almost skeletal, his ribs showing, snarls.

Netty doesn't hesitate. She turns and returns along the path, breaking into a

strong running stride, covering ground silently with strong legs and broad

hips that have been strengthened through riding English style for many years.

Netty covers the clearing silently, racing toward the frozen Billy standing

like a statue.

The dogs are a mix of former pets - shepherds, boxers, and hounds - all kinds.

The smaller ones hang back and yip from the woods, excited at the possibility

74

of a meal ahead but not yet willing to attack humans, still recalling their

former owners. Netty reaches Billy and lifts him off the ground into her arms.

Red and Danny come running up, Red whacking at the retreating alpha dog with

his jacket. Red says,

They’re starving!

Netty says,

Come on, we’d better keep up with the others. Common

Billy, no more dawdling.

Netty takes Billy by the hand and strides off, practically dragging Billy

along. Red and Danny do their best fast walk too, Red’s elbows sticking out

and jerking up and down, Danny breaking into a trot now and then.

The laggards catch up with the rest of Ian’s group, who are standing around on

a river bluff, staring out at the river. Netty and Billy, still being towed

along behind Netty, arrive first, but instead of a welcome from the group,

they are ignored. No one turns to pay attention to them other than a quick

glance, then return to stare at the river. Danny and Red bring up the rear,

huffing and puffing and sweating slightly.

The group hears what sounds like music, various tones, the sound plastic

bottles make when filled with air and forced in close proximity to each other

in a net, or tied together. These tones are various, like some kind of drum

set composed of small plastic drums, almost tinkling rather than booming.

A series of houseboats are moored to the trees of a small island in the middle

of the slow-moving river. These are strung out in a line, a couple rafts

moored to the strong trees on the island, then other rafts moored to these, so

the lot stretches out along the center of the river.

Plastic bottles have been filled with air and either tied together or stuffed

into a net. These form a floatation device for plywood or rafts made of boards

crudely nailed together from the wreckage caused by the earthquakes and

hurricane force winds. The rafts are raised at least a foot out of the water,

more than enough floatation, the obvious consideration being that some of the

plastic bottles might fail, so more is better than less in this regard.

Some of the rafts have tents on them, some have one room structures made from

scrap lumber and tarps, and one is a two story rickety structure that looks

like it might fall over in a strong wind. Laundry is hung out to dry here and

there, on lines tied between boards nailed to the edges of the rafts and

whatever serves as the sleeping quarters in the center of the raft. Most of

the rafts have container gardens of some sort, plastic pots of various size

and colors, growing tomatoes or lettuce or chard.

75

Fishing lines are hung from the rafts, trailing off into the river as they

draw downstream. The fishing lines reflects light, and so many of them are

strung out that it looks almost like a spider web with the rafts caught in the

center. A boy comes up to one line and starts drawing it in, pulling up a good

sized fish as he does so, and turns to take it to a wooden box nearby where he

knocks it on the head with a wooden mallet, killing it instantly.

Toddlers can be seen on the decks of some rafts, their watchful mothers

keeping them no more than an arm’s length away. Some are tied in a harness so

they can’t fall into the river. A woman is on her hands and knees at the edge

of one raft, washing her hair. Her hair is full of soap suds as she vigorously

scrubs, then dips a cup into the river to rinse.

Someone on the raft city notices the group on the bluff and points, calling a

notice out to the others, and waves at the group on the bluff. Some calls are

exchanged between the two groups, but the distance precludes anything more

than a vigorous wave and hello. Ian says,

They raided the recycling facility up at Middleton.

Red says,

Well . . they’re safer there than in these woods. . .

And no lack of fresh fish to eat!

Ian is standing beside Colonel Cage, looking directly at him with slight worry

on his face, an unspoken query. Colonel Cage glances quickly at Ian, reading

his mind, then returns his gaze to the raft complex, which is fascinating,

transfixing everyone in the troop.

They won’t be bothered, nor will those we left behind

at Bridgewater. It’s us they’re after, those from the

ranch. We know the location of his headquarters, and

he’s not ready for visitors yet. He means to kill us,

us from the ranch . . and anyone else that gets in the

way.

Colonel Cage motions with a wave of his hand toward the raft city while

looking directly at Ian again.

But this is no threat to him. And no advantage. Just

trash in the river, that’s how he thinks.

_______________________________

Fog is blowing in the very early morning along the river. Ian has just

wakened his traveling group, not letting them have more than a few hours rest

during the night. Ian is seen moving among the members, who are sitting up on

the ground and stretching. He is touching them on the shoulder, rather than

using his voice to announce that the march is to start again. Now that they

76

can see where to put one foot in front of the other, he intends to have them

on their feet and moving again.

The group looks bleary eyed, as though they've just wakened and could use a

cup or more likely a full pot of coffee. No one is complaining, however, and

when one stumbles and drops something, the one behind helps them pick it up

and get adjusted with their belongings again. This group assists each other,

in a non-competitive way, and there is never a need to ask for this

assistance.

_______________________________

Ian, in the lead, stops the group behind him by raising his hand. There,

hidden by fog most of the time but visible when the wisps clear momentarily,

is a huge dull gray dome, several stories high. The dome doesn't reach above

the trees, but covers an area as large as a football field. Placed on a ridge

along the river, where there are trees on all sides and no ground above the

ridge, the dome could not be seen unless a plane flew over.

Several of Ian's group crowd around him, coming up behind him and staring at

the dome over his shoulders. They are all silent, staring, taking this in and

trying to place it in their concepts of what goes on.

Ian finally moves forward, the group straggling behind him. There is a large

space in the line between Ian and those following him, his assistants, and an

even larger space before the rest of the group follows. They are clearly

hanging back, not so far that it would be taken to be a lack of faith in Ian,

but far enough back that escape is possible. As Ian nears the entrance, the

entry doors splits open and slide to the side.

Several humans walk out, Jonah in the lead, extending his hand. Ian hesitates

only a moment, then himself walks forward with an extended hand. The group

following Ian noticeably pick up their pace, seeing a friendly welcome.

Just inside the dome city entrance, the newcomers are gawking at the raised

but diffusely lit ceiling and lush vegetation growing in the center of the

dome, where there is a fountain and grassy areas with children at play. The

77

dome has housing units in a circle around the edge, several stories high, as

the dome drops down into the ground as well as rising up above the ground.

Tammy breaks the silence as she has been discovered by another little girl her

age. Tammy is clutching her rag doll, which by now is so dirty and tattered

that it almost looks like a black rag. The little girl welcoming her has a

clean cloth doll, similar in size and dress, and hands this to Tammy with a

smile. Tammy blinks, a hint of tears forming in her eyes at the kindness and

understanding shown her, and smiles slightly. She hands the other girl her

tattered doll, and they make an exchange, laugh spontaneously afterwards at

the silliness of Tammy's gift, and run off together, the dome city girl in the

lead. Not a word has been spoken between the girls during this exchange.

Billy is right behind Tammy, and has watched this. He raises his face to his

mother Martha, standing behind him, sharing with her an unspoken understanding

that this is a good place. Ian is standing at the side, in intense

conversation with Jonah, but we don't hear their conversation. They have

stepped to the side as the rest of the group is crowding the entryway as they

enter the dome and react. Madge, the fat cook, comes in and stands stock

still, her perpetual frown refusing to be displaced on her face. Frank is

just behind her, raising his arms up with an ecstatic look on his face,

mouthing things we can't hear but what we are sure are comparisons to Atlantis

or other mythological cities.

_______________________________

It is very early dawn in the dome city, which has lighting controlled by

lights affixed along the dome wall on the upper pram level. These produce

intense carbon arc light, the equivalent of sunlight, and shine it on the dome

ceiling. This light does not go directly into the faces of anyone, due to a

long cone over the arc light itself, pointing upward. The cone is several feet

78

long, wider as it fans toward the ceiling. The cones are painted the same

color as the dome ceiling, sky blue.

A man is walking along the upper pram, toolbox and stepladder in hand. He goes

from light to light, doing maintenance. Standing on the stepladder he turns a

switch alongside one of the lights and it turns off. Using a special tool he

quickly turns hooks up and down the cone shaped funnel so as to remove the

funnel. The tool is an odd, unique shape so that children can’t accidentally

remove the cones. The carbon points are exposed, and he adjusts each to move

more toward the center, toward each other, then measures the gap. Satisfied,

he drops his gap measure back into this pocket and reaches for the cone again,

ready to reassemble.

Sheep are grazing on the dome city lawn, in one section. A portable wooden

fence can be seen in the background, keeping the sheep in one section at a

time. The dome city does not use lawn mowers, as sheep crop a grassland close

to the ground. They can also ruin a grassland if allowed to graze too long,

reducing the grass to stubble.

A worker is seen folding the portable wooden fence like an accordion, and

walking across some lush grass to the edge of the next section. He quickly

unfolds the fence, used more as a guide for the sheep than a containment, at

the edge of the next section. He strides back, turns sharply when he reaches

the end of the small herd, and starts herding the sheep into the lush area,

talking softly to them.

Hik . . Common . . Soosh . .

Along the edge of the wall circling the garden areas there are occasional

doors to rooms where hydroponic gardens and other food production efforts are

contained. The walls are colored the same as the upper residential area walls,

so look at first glance like foundation walls, integral to the city itself. A

door swings open. The label on the door reads “Compost Consolidation”. As the

door swings back shut we see that a man pushing a heavily loaded wheelbarrow

has emerged. His load is rich, loamy earth swarming with earthworms. He has a

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pitchfork stuck into the load. He quickly pushes the barrow across the lawn

toward some grape vines on an arbor toward the center of the dome city

gardens.

As he crosses the lawn, a flock of banty hens and roosters come dashing toward

him, some flying, some running. They know this routine. Some hop into the

barrow, not waiting for their treat. The worker does not break his stride, as

all morning tasks such as this are to be complete before the residents awake.

He strides up to the grape vines and tips his barrow forward onto the roots of

the grape plants. The eager banty hens cover the pile, cleaning up the worms,

and scratching furiously for worms within the compost.

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-Helping Hands-

The evening meal is in process in the dome city. The roof of the top layer of

residences, the upper concourse, is a general pram area where exercise and

community activities take place. Tonight, due to the newcomers, a special

dinner is laid out, buffet style. Children run along the roof and down the

stairs on ramps that periodically descend to the center, chasing each other

and playing games. A home-town band is playing some music, a banjo and violin

and snare drum in an odd combination, along with a few singers who are

remarkably good given the circumstances. Some couples are dancing along with

the music, in front of where the band has congregated.

Jonah and Ian and Colonel Cage, seated at a table, holding and sipping from

their cups and chatting. Ian and Colonel Cage are trying to adjust to this

new measure of plenty and security. Ian is anxiously asking about security,

whether they have had any raids or intrusions. Jonah answers, in a matter-of-

fact manner.

We're protected

This brings a frown to Ian's forehead. Have they walked into the enemy camp,

by mistake? After hesitating for a minute, he blurts out a question.

Protected by who?

Colonel Cage has been watching the conversation, his eyes flicking from one to

the other, growing calmer as something momentous is about to emerge, his

military background coming to the fore. Jonah says,

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We're not alone, haven't been, but now they can come

forward more.

Ian has a blank, uncomprehending, look on his face. Jonah says,

You know, the space people, they're here, and they

helped us build this. Oh, you won't see much of them

if at all, but they're always around, and we've got

some special children to prove it.

Ian's eyes widen, staring at Jonah's face. What next?

Come on, I'll show you.

_______________________________

Jonah has taken Ian and Colonel Cage to the gardens in the center of the dome

city, where the children play. Jonah is sitting on one of the benches there,

speaking warmly and quietly to some children standing in front of him, as

though he frequently does this, is familiar to them, and has a good rapport

with them. They have large frontal lobes and delicate chins, larger than

normal eyes, and listen more than they speak. They seem to anticipate each

other's movements, stepping back in sync with a step forward by another and

the like. The din of children's voices can be heard in the background. Jonah

says,

.. planning to have an art fair, a craft fair, on the

concourse soon, right?

The hybrid child in the center responds to something other than what Jonah has

been saying, responding to his thoughts, not his words.

They'll adjust quickly because they've been living

like us already. You'll see, there won't be any

adjustment at all.

Colonel Cage leans forward to ask a question.

How do you know?

The child looks calmly at him.

You're right to be worried, they need you. They don't