The Long Winter Time
by Quintin Snell
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Table of Contents parts: 1, 2, 3 4 |
part 2
Children were taught what they needed to survive first, then theoretical knowledge. If they showed an aptitude towards a particular field, they were taught more. In this way, Bunker ensured that knowledge was passed on; the winter would not last forever and, when mankind could once again live on the surface, that knowledge would be essential.
Shet had a basic knowledge of reading, writing and mathematics. His main interest had been scouring the ruins for useful items, but he had also shown an interest in all aspects of Bunker’s functioning, so had learned a little bit of everything and was often called on to help out with odd jobs.
Genset started Shet’s training by improving on his literary skills, until he could read, write and work out equations as well as the forefathers had. When he asked why it was so important, Genset pointed at the bookshelf. “You need to be able to read and understand everything on those shelves.”
Eventually, he could, and was fascinated by what he discovered. Some were pure literature, stories and thoughts captured on paper. Most were factual; biology, history, science and geography. Slowly but surely, he learned what life had been like before The Earth Burned.
Fascinating as it was, he wondered why he needed to learn ancient history. The explanation he received was: “To know where we are going, we need to know where we have been, and what mistakes to avoid. I promise you, everything will become clear at the right time. This was the way I was taught, and eventually you will understand, as I did.”
One subject that Shet enjoyed particularly was chemistry. He learned that burn water was actually called sulphuric acid. When it was warm enough for the snash to melt, the acid was the result. Some of the equipment that Genset used was to remove the water from the acid, which was then used, along with the lead, to manufacture the batteries. The left over pure water was added to Bunker’s supply. Shet watched proudly as Genset tested and proclaimed his first battery a success.
He learned that the humming machines were generators; only a few of them ran, powering the water and air recycler as well as the other essential items that weren’t battery powered. These generators ran on solar and geothermal energy, powered by heat from the Earth itself, the same heat that kept Bunker from freezing.
He also learned that Genset actually wasn’t the old man’s name, instead it was more of a title. Gen-set was originally what the generator room was called.
* * *
Over the next few years, apart from learning how to use all the machinery in the generator room, even the dormant ones, and being taught how to make the batteries, Shet realised he was being taught everything about Bunker, how it was all built and functioned, and what everything was for. It was a system far more meticulously planned than he had ever realised.
He knew how to use and repair all the machines. All save one: the strange round machine in the very centre of the gen-set. This machine appeared inactive, save for one blinking amber light in the side. The machine was shaped like a 3-meter high washer standing on its edge. This flat silver disc had a 2-meter wide empty centre and hovered without making any contact inside another, larger disc, which was anchored to the floor. From his studies, he knew this wasn’t magic, but science: magnetism at work. The outer disc was festooned with wires, circuits and switches. A thick cable snaked from this machine to a computer on a desk beside it.
Shet queried Genset about this device but learned nothing other than: “The time isn’t right yet. I know what it does but don’t yet know how it works.” Genset constantly pored like a man obsessed over this machine, studying it and the pages and pages of unintelligible code on the computer.
Shet’s relationship with Meri had not really worked out as they had expected. After a few months, they had realised that they were to be nothing more than friends. They spent fewer nights together, until even those came to an end. Meri started seeing another man, a farmer, and Shet decided it was for the best anyway; his studies took up almost every waking moment. Meri and her new man married, and Shet congratulated them both heartily and genuinely at their wedding.
One morning, Shet entered the main chamber. Although he still hadn’t seen the man’s face, he had learned enough of Genset’s body language to tell he was excited. Shet guessed he had finally unlocked the machine’s secrets. “I knew it would be today, but it’s still a momentous occasion. I’ve been studying this damned thing since it was built, a hundred years ago, and it’s taken me all this time to figure out how it works. Now, it’s time to reveal the final piece of the puzzle to you.
“This, Shet, is a time machine. It works only one way, though. It can send one person to the past, but only once.”
Shet was understandably sceptical, but did not want to appear disrespectful to his mentor. “Who built it?”
“You did. Or will.” Genset replied.
“Me? How, and how do you know?”
“Because I was there when it was built.” With this, Genset removed the suit’s hood. “I am you.”
Shet stood there aghast, face to face with his doppelgänger. Emotions warred within him; denial, disbelief, shock and acceptance all vying for dominance.
“Assuming what you are saying is true,” Shet said, “how is this possible? According to the books you have made me read, time travel is the stuff of fantasy and science fiction. You look like me, but there are explanations other than time travel, besides the fact that you would have to be nearly 130 years old, yet look exactly the same age as myself. Also, if you built it, why didn’t you know how to use it?”
“Before you argue with me any more, which I know you want to, let me prove what I am saying is the truth. Right now, you’re thinking I must be your twin, one you never knew about. While a reasonable explanation, it doesn’t explain the scar you got last year.”
Shet had indeed been injured the year before. Whilst scavenging, some rubble had given way and he had fallen, gashing his chest badly. Genset took off his shirt. Although healed more by time, he sported the identical scar: the puckered area where it had gotten infected and not healed well, the smooth part where his blood had melted the snash, causing a chemical burn, even the stitch marks were identical.
Another person could conceivably have a similar scar, but never an identical one.
Genset went on to tell Shet intimate details about his life, including the last woman he had lain with. Shet was almost ready to believe what he was being told, but was still sceptical.
“One last piece of proof.” Genset took one of his ancient journals from his desk. “This is the first journal I wrote, when I was in your position. On the first page, I wrote down everything you will do tomorrow.” Shet watched in horror as Genset tore out the first page. He placed it into an envelope, which he sealed, and gave to Shet.
“Tomorrow I want you to take the day off, do things totally different to your normal routine. Then open and read this before you go to bed. Once you have, you will believe what I am saying is the truth, and instead of going to sleep, you will come see me. I know you will, because I did when I was where you are now. I will see you tomorrow night. I only ask that you wait till tomorrow night to read it, and tell nobody of this; it has to remain secret.”
It took a long time for Shet to get to sleep; he kept replaying the events in his head. He was also greatly tempted to read the page in the envelope, but managed to restrain himself.
That night, he dreamed he was walking in a green field, under a blue sky, like in GranDa’s pictures. He awoke, as he always did, half-wishing he had never seen them. He got up, did his ablutions and headed to the dining hall where he had his breakfast. As usual, he had the awful LG cakes. It was his day to have an egg, and the cook made him a small omelette complete with pieces of the spicy bell pepper. The seeds Shet had found had finally produced fruit and the cook was thrilled to have an extra flavour to add to the food.
Doing what Genset had told him to do, he broke his routine and went to help tend the garden, carefully collecting fallen leaves and putting them in the worm boxes. With nothing better to do, he donned his peevees (PVC, he corrected himself) coverall and went scrounging.
As usual, on exiting Bunker, the endless expanse of grey confronted him. He scanned the dull, featureless blanket of grey cloud above him. It was the same as it ever was, until, just for a moment, a patch thinned and he saw a faint hint of blue. As quickly as it appeared, it was swallowed by the grey.
His heart soared. Blue meant only one thing: there would be an end to this dreadful Everwinter. Likely not any time soon, but he would live to see the sun one day.
That day was much sooner and, at the same time, farther away than he realised.
His scrounging wasn’t very successful, he figured he was out of practice. All he found was a mangled piece of copper pipe, which he thought the workshop techs would surely find useful. He headed home. He was feeling hungry anyway, even though all that awaited him was an LG cake.
After a meal which left him both full and unsatisfied, he took his pipe to the workshop and traded it for a bottle of ink. Like most of Bunker’s consumables, it was manufactured from the plants grown in the central garden. He had almost used his up with all the studying Genset had him doing. He still thought of the other “himself” as Genset, the concept of two time travelling versions of himself was difficult to wrap his head around, and he was still not sure he believed this incredible tale.
With nothing better to do, he returned to his room to read a book. He found it extremely difficult to concentrate on the story he was reading, an ancient book, with difficult to understand language, written by someone called Shakespeare.
All the while, the distracting envelope lurked on his desk, daring him to open it and read its contents. He gave up, carefully put the book away and headed to the surface, fetching a glass jar from the lab. He filled the jar with snash, which he distilled. After testing for purity, he carefully stored the acid and took the water to the kitchen.
Eventually he was ready for bed. He picked up an empty journal and wrote the day’s events in it. Then he picked up the envelope. He opened it and read the words within. They described everything he had done that day, including the dream he had the night before, in perfect detail. Shocked, he picked up the journal he had just started and reread his words. They were an identical match, even the handwriting. The page in the envelope was undeniably ancient, but otherwise the same as the one still in his journal. The only explanation was that Genset was being straight with him.
Any possibility of sleeping vanished like mist. He had to know more. He had read stories of time travel in the books Genset had given him, but those were fiction, whereas, clearly, travelling through time was not only a possibility, but a reality!
He rushed to the generator room where Genset was standing, holding the door open. “Exciting, isn’t it?”
* * *
Copyright © 2023 by Quintin Snell
