The Shelter

On the final day of our Excursion, we find the Shelter.

At first, we don’t know what it is that we have stumbled upon. It’s been many years since an undisturbed Shelter has been discovered. We thought that all of them had been found and Excavated long ago. But the Oldest among us has seen places such as this before, and they recognize it for what it is.

The Shelter is deep in what was once called the Forest, high in the Mountains, closed in on all sides by rock. This, we suppose, is how the Shelter managed to avoid being swept away by the Flooding, or torched in the Fires. It's a wonder that it still stands at all.

We are curious, of course, about those who may have inhabited this Shelter, but we do not go near it. Not yet. We watch the Oldest, and wait.

The Oldest points out the storage vessel for harvesting moisture from the sky, and the scattered tools that lie on the ground outside. The Oldest tells us that the inhabitant of this Shelter must have learned to adapt to this remote environment.

“This is very unusual,” the Oldest says. “The Ancients were typically highly social, and lived mostly in groups. It must have been difficult for them to survive here.”

This only raises our curiosity. We've all heard stories of Excursions to remote places where strange and fantastic things were discovered. And of course, we've all heard of the riches that one can gain from such Excursions.

The Youngest, examining the rusted tools, asks, “What were these used for?"

The Oldest picks up a bent Nail and studies it carefully. “Building something, it looks like. But whatever it was, it's long gone."

The Oldest drops the Nail and leads us into the Shelter.

When we get inside, we’re amazed at what we find. We have all seen Depictions of Shelters like this, but it’s entirely different to actually witness it ourselves. We find a small Table and two Chairs, one of them fallen over. A broken Lamp. Window Cloths, now mildewy and deteriorating. A water-damaged Painting of an unrecognizable subject. And in the corner, next to the broken Window, we find one of the rectangular-shaped objects the Ancients used for Nocturnal Rest, just like we’ve heard about.

We are all very excited. We immediately begin Excavating, searching for valuable materials and noteworthy objects.

Then one of us discovers a hidden door to a small Room behind the first, with a smaller Nocturnal Rest object covered by oddly shaped Cushions. The Cushions resemble different Ancient Creatures of that age, with Plastic knobs to represent Eyes. Some of these Ancient Creatures are recognizable. We identify a Tiger, a Zebra, and a Dolphin. But many of the others, we do not recognize, such as the four-legged creature with wings and a horn protruding from its forehead. We debate for awhile about whether or not this indicates that such Ancient Creatures existed, but it is eventually determined, with the help of our Interior Research System, that they did not, and that this is merely another example of this species’ penchant for what they called Imagination.

Our Interior Research System informs us that these objects are called Toys, which were made for the enjoyment of the Young. But these Toys are not valuable to us, and so we return to the larger room.

In the main room, we are able to Excavate valuable objects of interest, including several Batteries, plastic containers, Spoons, and — most excitingly — several magnets with interesting shapes. There are also many Bound Manuscripts, which we take as well.

When we call out to the Youngest, we discover that they are still in the smaller room. They have found something: a small piece of metal attached to a chain. “What is it?” The Youngest asks.

“It is something to be worn,” the Oldest says. “A decorative object.”

“And why is it shaped like this?”

Our Interior Research System tell us that shape of the object is called a Heart, and that it is a meant to represent a muscular organ within the body, as well as the Emotion of Affection. How it can be both at the same time eludes us. Another peculiarity of the Ancients, we suppose.

The Youngest says, “If no one has any objections, I would like to keep it.”

We try to tell the Youngest that the object is not very valuable. The material is extremely common, and it has little Educational purpose. The Youngest does not mind. The Youngest has always been a bit peculiar.

Back in the main room, beneath a deteriorating piece of cloth, we discover a Television. We decide to test its value by sending a current through it, and surprisingly, it turns on. Then a terrible sound begins to pour from it.

The image on the Television screen is of two Ancients: one male, and one small female, who is only partially grown. The resemblance between them suggests that they may be familial relations. They are holding objects, and wobbling them strangely. An odd Noise is coming from the objects, as well as their Mouths.

“Make it stop!” The Oldest cries, but we can't figure out which Button to press, and the sounds keep pouring out. The longer we watch, the stranger it becomes. The sounds at first to be at odds to one another, but soon it becomes clear that there is a pattern to it, and the sounds are meant accompany one another. And the wailing sounds that their Mouths are making slowly take on the shape of Words, though the tone is very different than other recordings of Words that we have heard throughout our education.

But what is strangest of all is way it affects us. Something about the Noise, and the moving voices, does something to our Minds. We find ourselves recalling certain times from long ago, such as the days when we were Young, and when our Caretakers looked after us. And we recall, too, that those moments have passed, and that they will never return. And this reminds us how we are currently Alive, and that we will one day too be Deceased, as these Ancients are now Deceased.

We did not know that the Ancients had this ability to do all of this through Noise. It is an unsettling experience, and we are not sure if it will ever end. We think that we may be stuck here, in this odd Shelter, listening to this Noise, for the rest of our existence.

But that does not happen. Eventually, the Noise ends, and the Ancients smile at us from inside the Television for a moment, and then the image disappears.

For awhile, we do not speak. Then we hear a click. The Youngest has been clutching the silver object very tightly, and now it has snapped in two.

At least, that is what we think at first. Then the Youngest says, “There’s something inside.”

We examine the metal object. It hasn’t broken; it has simply opened, just like a Bound Manuscript. The object has split into two Hearts. In one of them, there is a simulacrum of the Ancient man in the Television, and in the other, the Ancient female.

There is something else, too. A tiny piece of paper, folded many times. The Youngest opens it carefully, to keep it from tearing. Inside, there is a faint sketch. Surprisingly, we recognize it. It is a blueprint for a Spatial Transportation Device.

We go outside, back to where we found the remains of the tools that the Ancients left. Now, we can make out a faint outline in the overgrowth where a machine may have once stood. It's impossible to determine if the Spatial Transportation Device was successful, but there's no doubt that this was what they had been trying to build.

We all look up, as if we expect to see the Ancients' Spatial Transportation Device fading away into the night sky. But of course we see nothing – only the stars, which are very bright here, since there is no other light to compete with them.

“I wonder how far they made it,” the Youngest says.

But none of us, not even our Interior Research System, can answer that question.

We gather our things from the Excavation and return to our own Transportation Device. It's time for us to go home.

As our Transportation Device rises away from the Shelter, a curious thing happens. Somehow, we can hear the Noise from the Television again. The sounds seems to have come back to us, like an echo reaching across space and time.

The Noise clings to us, plunging deep into the center of our very being. And although we don't understand what the Words mean, we find ourselves wishing we had Mouths of our own, so we could make our own Noise in answer.

The Noise stays with us, as we rise above the scorched land and poisoned atmosphere. For a long time afterward, we can still hear it.