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Contrary to Wilma's stroke of luck, Buck found himself in a far less fortunate situation. He was sprawled on the nightmarish subway platform, while nearby, Nova lay curled up on a broken bench resembling an enormous slumbering kitten. He was waking up, after having fallen into a pitifully disturbed slumber alive with Draconians, Xelthorians, and the mutant killers allied with the murderous Inner City exile Draven Xander. Blinking his eyes open, he almost groaned aloud at the eerie spectacle that was still before him, surrounding his reason; the mad vision of which he was still an integral part.
The subway station, encrusted with its silent armies of stalactites and stalagmites, continued its drip, drip, drip. A haunting, maddening refrain. Wearily, Buck stood up and stretched his stiff, aching limbs. Dazed, he staggered to the sleek wet wall and cupped his hands to catch some of the falling water which ran down steadily from the enormous stalactite overhead. He drank. The water was fresh and cold. It felt good against his parched, sun-baked mouth. He let it dribble down his chin.
He watched the sleeping Nova, his mind tumbling with imponderables, impossibilities and wild suppositions. He really didn't know what to think. It was all so---so---incredible.
"Are you," he asked the sleeping girl, "what my people were before we learned to talk and made fools of ourselves? Did any good ever come of talking---round all those tables? Did apes make war when they were still dumb? Did men?"
Defeatedly, with of course no answer from the girl, he went over to a rocky vent in the station wall, through which some daylight feebly filtered, to look out the outside world from which he and Nova had escaped. He craned his neck to peer through.
He caught his breath, almost jumping back in terror.
About ten yards beyond the vent, he could see a veritable squad of gorilla guards, helmeted, armed, scouring the rocky maze, still obliviously searching for him and the girl. He could make out the muttered concert of their ape voices. They didn't sound very happy about something....
"I guess we lost them," one of the fiercest-looking gorillas was growling to the others. "The sergeant says, keep looking. We've been here all night. The sergeant says we'd better not come back unless we've found them. Keep looking!"
Buck retreated from the vent, not wanting to see or hear any more. It was still unnerving seeing and hearing animals that acted like men. The same inflections, the same gestures....
He returned to Nova, bent over her, and gently roused her from sleep. She stirred fitfully, her long, curved body tensing.
"Nova, wake up!" he begged.
Instantly she opened her eyes and swung erect. He could see the rapid rise and fall of her semibared breasts within the ragged confines of her burlap-like garments. Her eyes searched his face. He forced a smile.
"We've got to keep moving, sister," he suggested. She nodded, her lips moistening nervously. He took her hand and swung her to her feet. He held onto her hand as he led her carefully down the long, dim, glistening subway platform with its mocking signs and depressing interior that spoke so eloquently of what had happened here many centuries ago.
Suddenly he was aware of a faint humming sound.
Hummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm....
He reacted. The girl did too.
He hadn't been quite sure he hadn't been hearing things but the awareness on Nova's face was unmistakable.
"That hum. You hear it too!" He exulted, not knowing why. "We're going to follow it..."
They did.
All along the platform, using the labyrinth of a decayed track and seemingly endless tunnel as a guide. The hum grew gradually louder, with variations of volume and power so subtle that its tone didn't increase abruptly. It just increased, amplified as it were, to become a steady focus of attention. Excited, Brent clung to the girl, bringing her along behind him. The rhythmic hum and purr of the sound drew him on like a magnet. The tunnel seemed to lengthen, widen, and soon there was no more sign of the platform, the stalactites and stalagmites. None of the rotting, eroded fissures and cracks. The mouth of the cave ahead had rounded out, smoothened. Buck felt as if the way now led upward, that they would eventually surface somewhere in broad daylight in the outer world. But it was only illusion. The underground humming throbbed eerily, built symphonically, and now there was even a faint suggestion of a pleasant wind at their backs, wafting them onward, as if they were two vagrant feathers. It was totally unreal. With his ears filled with the vibrant hum of the unidentifiable noise, with all his senses riveted to an unknown force, Buck walked steadily forward, conscious only of movement and sound.
A long, slightly uphill passage loomed ahead of them.
Glimmering there, somewhere, was a high sliver of very dim light. Indirect light. The hum and the wind had both increased in velocity. They seemed to be hurled forward. Upward. The sliver of light was widening and even as they plummeted towards it, Buck could make out a rock-lined egress of some kind. The exit was just broad enough to accommodate both of them. Buck's hair floated like a thatch on his head. Nova's long tresses blew like pennants in the breeze. The hum had increased to dynamo intensity. It seemed to fill what was left of this world. The world of the desolate subway station had vanished.
Before them lay a high-vaulted, natural rock tunnel, a mesmerizing sight that seemed to defy the laws of nature. Its sleek, scaled sides were impossibly sheared, as if carved by some otherworldly force. The walls glistened with an ethereal glow, casting an otherworldly light that illuminated the path ahead.
As they approached the tunnel's entrance, Buck couldn't help but notice a peculiar source of light. It emanated from another vent, strategically placed into the rock barrier across the uphill road's dead end. Positioned ten feet above the ground, it served as both an enigma and a beacon.
Curiosity consumed Buck's thoughts as he tried to comprehend the mysterious phenomenon before him. Was it wind blowing into the vent? Or perhaps something more inexplicable—was it being sucked out? His mind raced with wild theories and possibilities.
The wind that flowed through the vent carried an eerie presence—a haunting whisper that sent shivers down Buck's spine. As Buck stood there, his heart pounding in his chest, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease creeping over him. The whispering wind seemed to grow louder, its chilling touch seeping into his very bones. He couldn't shake the feeling that something otherworldly was at play, something beyond his comprehension. His curiosity consumed him, urging him to investigate further, to uncover the truth behind this inexplicable phenomenon.
"Whoever---or whatever---is guiding us to this place----" Buck muttered to the girl, "they breathe air, anyway."
They drifted closer to the vent. Two black silhouettes starkly outlined against the bright, white light. The hum, like ten dynamos now, pulsated deafeningly.
Buck and Nova swept closer to the opening, to the weird vent with the weirder light.
He could see it was an octagonal frame, wright in a white metal of some kind. He stared up at it spectacularly, watching the wind rush through the opening. Grimly he got hold of himself. He began to climb towards the vent, putting his hand on the lowest bar of the metallic octagon to do so. Then a frightening thing happened. The electrical hum stopped, as quickly as if he had pushed a contact button. The sudden silence was terrifying.
Buck and the girl stood stock-still, stunned by the new quiet, the strange calm. Nova began to retreat, panicking.
"No," Buck caught her. "It's too late." He drew her back again. "We have to go on."
But she pulled her hand free of his, shocked by the unknown. Rendered horrified by things she couldn't understand. Buck tried to appeal to her, ignoring that she couldn't follow his words.
"There's a high intelligence at work in this place. Good or bad. That sound we heard is either a warning, or some kind of directional device. I don't know which. But it doesn't matter. The truth is----they know we're here!"
She didn't understand a word of it, of course, but his tone was so positive and reassuring that she almost smiled. But she continued to retreat, backing away slowly.
"All right," Buck said. "I'll go up first."
And Buck continued his climb, while Nova watched anxiously. He hauled himself high enough up to grip the octagonal frame. He swung himself in, lost from view for a full second. Nova whimpered aloud. But his head reappeared, silhouetted against the vent. He beckoned. "Don't be afraid. It's empty. Come on."
She reached up to him, climbing. He caught her hand and lifted her. He was very strong. Within seconds, he had swept her up from the strange world of the white tunnel, into the vent, and then they were both suddenly---standing in yet another maze of unreality. On the white floor of a white-walled, down-sloping tunnel, also octagonal in contour. The released air was funneling out of this down toward another white dot of far-off illumination. Another light of some kind. Buck did not hesitate. Pulling Nova, he led her towards the next outlet. The last exit to....
Where?
They emerged from the tunnel.
The glaring world of a new daylight invaded their aching eyes.
A cold, unreal sunlight.
And Buck stared.
And Nova shuddered against him. Helpless and afraid again.
For Buck Rogers, the universe had once again turned over.
His intellect dissolved into a thousand more little pieces.
They were on the outskirts of a city.
City.
If he could have imagined another place that, like the Inner City, became a refuge of survivors trying to evade the fallout of the Nuclear Holocaust, this would be that place. How else to account for the parts of a 504-year-old original structure that now greeted his eyes.
He saw 20th century brick, stone and concrete, corroded sewer signs, showing through the basic foundations of a metropolis of predominately white architecture, and the interior decor of a 22nd century catacomb complex scooped out of ancient foundations. Narrow streets, more like white corridors, twisted and turned between buildings with windowless walls. There was an unearthly emptiness and nakedness, a lack of ornamentation and color. It was as if a world of impersonal stone greeted them.
"Are we in a city?" Buck whispered. "Or is it just like the rest of Anarchia---a cemetery?"
Nova stared at him, taking her eyes away from the dead metropolis. She still couldn't understand his words but she had become very sensitive to his moods and emotions. Fear had made them companions.
Wordlessly she slipped her hand into his.
Buck couldn't take his eyes off the dead city.
It was a stone monster out of his wildest dreams!
Simultaneously, circling the Earth, Fowler joined Rollins by the Commander, who was anxiously waiting for another message from the shuttle. "Do you think they believe us?" he said.
"I'm not sure," the Commander declined to speculate. "He seems friendly, and if he's American like us, it could work in our favor.
"Brent couldn't believe his eyes. "Our descendants," he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.
Just then, a static burst signaled a new message. "Icarus II, this is Shuttlecraft Three of the Earth Defense Directorate. We'd like to discuss working together on our missions once we land."
Rollins raised an eyebrow, questioning, 'Captain... Zyrax?'
'Yes,' replied Captain Zyrax.
'Well, Captain Zyrax, this might be difficult to grasp, but if your government sent you here on a goodwill mission, we're not the best company right now. You see, we're from the distant past and our mission is to rescue our friends who also traveled through time. Once that's done, we'll be heading back to our own time."
After a brief pause, Zyrax asked, "Can your craft scan the region below us to see what's there?"
"No, Captain," replied Rollins, causing unease among the astronauts. "Our spacecraft is too primitive to take readings from up here."
Zyrax exhaled uneasily before speaking again, "Colonel Rollins, we have important information to share. I'll start by telling you what we know about Earth."
And so began a remarkable conversation between the spacecrafts, a mesmerizing exchange of knowledge and experiences that transcended the boundaries of time and space. For twelve awe-inspiring hours, the extraterrestrial beings shared their wisdom with the astronauts, unveiling secrets of the universe that had remained hidden from humanity for eons.
As this extraordinary dialogue unfolded, Wilma found herself captivated by the ancient Ape temple she had been exploring. The intricate carvings on its walls told stories of civilizations long gone, leaving her in awe of the vastness of history. But amidst her admiration for this ancient wonder, her keen eyes caught sight of something peculiar in the distance.
Wilma appeared to have some hesitation before finally admitting, "Yes, there was something." However, she quickly dismissed any doubts by stating firmly, "No buts." She confidently asserted that the desired location should be located in the rear part of this forested area. As Wilma continued her exploration into the dense jungle, she unexpectedly came across a breathtaking spectacle. In front of her stood the remnants of immense ancient edifices, their weathered stone walls stretching towards the canopy above.
She constantly reminded herself of the vital necessity to remain silent when encountering humans, as speaking would expose her as an enemy who shared the language of the hostile beasts. The decaying temples and intricately carved stone monuments were subtle indications of a forgotten society that had arisen in the wake of the catastrophic event known as the Holocaust. Filled with wonder and curiosity, she pondered how such a remarkable civilization could be lost to time. Imagining the bustling streets and vibrant culture that once thrived within these walls, the ruins whispered stories of a bygone era, urging her to uncover their secrets. With each step, her determination grew to delve deeper into this mysterious world and unravel its enigma.
Fortunately, luck was on her side as Wilma discovered that she had the entire place to her own delight. A sense of relief flooded through her as she carefully surveyed the surroundings, quickly realizing that there were no other individuals in sight. Her eyes widened in awe at the exquisite stone carvings portraying apes involved in various activities such as farming, constructing, and pursuing knowledge. Running her fingers along the lifelike figures, she couldn't help but admire the astounding attention to detail and artistry involved. She was captivated by a carving of an ape holding a book, surrounded by attentive onlookers. It ignited her curiosity and longing to uncover the wisdom held by these creatures. The carvings hinted at a sophisticated society with intricate hierarchies and knowledge systems. She realized that these structures were more than just shelters; they were hubs for community gatherings and religious ceremonies.
Driven by curiosity, Wilma ventured deeper into the temple-like structure. Inside, she was captivated by intricate carvings and ancient artifacts that transported her through time. As she delved deeper into the temple, an aura of history and untold secrets enveloped the air. Her fingers traced the intricate carvings, sensing the powerful energy they emitted. Then, her eyes locked onto a concealed compartment nestled in a corner. With trembling hands, she cautiously opened it, revealing a trove of ancient ape scrolls!
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What caused the apes to rise into an intelligent species was the same thing that caused the topographical changes over time had also altered the genetic structure of numerous species of animal life. Some species were wiped out altogether. But the apes were different. They were the one type of animal that most closely resembled human beings. They were also the one type of animal that had been taught to perform and think like humans in many ways. Of all the species that were capable of evolving into something rational, they were the one.
Within one hundred years, they'd overrun all the remaining survivors, and the humans fled into the jungles and beyond, some of them became savage mutes.561Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4zKocZ6sHk
If what these scrolls said was true, it explained certain elements of the Inner City's early history, Wilma thought. Sometimes, Inner City historians went down in the lower-level archives to read through all the old material. Not the computer abstracts, but the old files, written in ink on paper. Some of them said that the city was built partly as a refuge from 'the killer apes.' It had always been a derogatory reference to the mutants. But clearly, the term was more literal.561Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe4QZjebnI2
A light went on in Wilma's head. "Of course! The intelligent humans fled into the desert beyond the jungle knowing that the gorillas wouldn't pursue them. They made it as far as Old Chicago. And they brought secrets of ancient science with them, including space technology. That’s why only we Inner City humans have space flight capability!"561Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSdCqTN6SQE
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Peering through the dense foliage and overgrown vegetation surrounding the temple, Wilma's curiosity was piqued by two dilapidated structures standing in stark contrast to their surroundings. They appeared to be remnants from a different era altogether – buildings that seemed to belong to the 20th century. These enigmatic structures, standing as silent witnesses to a bygone era, may have once fulfilled the role of research facilities or outposts in a world that existed before the devastating nuclear Holocaust.
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