Button in the Fabric of Time (7 page)

Jan-3 removed her golden gown and satin-like
pink undergarments and stood waiting for me to undress. I’ve seen
beautiful women before, but I’ve never seen one with such a
perfectly formed body and glowing skin tones as Jan-3. If her
intentions were to arouse me, she was sure going about it in the
right way. She acknowledged my admiring look with a smile.

I removed my shirt and shoes, then, after
fumbling with the zipper, I stepped out of my pants, wondering how
I compared with the men Jan-3 had seen before. She seemed to be
taunting me as she watched me undress.

“I’ll go through first,” she said. “You can
follow me, and then Roc-2 will follow you. I’ll see you on the
other side.” With that, she lay on the conveyer and disappeared
into the tunnel.

I followed and quickly entered a narrow
tube-like tunnel that was lined with, what to me were exotic
machines. The purification chamber reminded me of a giant CAT scan.
I felt as though the machines were consuming me. I had been
examined before, but nothing compared to the extensive examinations
these machines performed. They took samples and injected fluids in
every part of my body. I saw no one, but I knew that someone or
some things were monitoring the procedure.

At last, I emerged in the next chamber and
stepped down from the conveyer. My body tingled, but other than
that, I felt normal. A silent attendant—a woman, I think—dressed in
polished copper, handed me a bundle of clothing.

Jan-3 was already dressed and watched me with
a sly smile. I was examining my new clothes, trying to figure out
how to put them on. The undergarment was made of a soft absorbent
material that felt like cotton. The outer garment was in two parts
and made of what appeared to be spun gold mixed with blue synthetic
fibers. The bottom was form-fitting pants, and the top was like a
long, smoking jacket. I saw my reflection in the mirror. The weight
of the gold fibers caused the robe to form to my body. I was
pleased to note that I looked casually elegant.

Roc-2 had emerged from the tube and was
dressing. His garments were also made of spun gold.

I asked him, “Where did you find enough gold
to allow you to use it to make clothes?”

Roc-2 finished dressing and started walking
down a hallway. He turned and gestured for me and Jan-3 to follow.
Then he responded, “We didn’t find gold; we manufacture it like you
manufacture synthetic gemstones. Most of earth’s minerals are
dissolved in the ocean, and the elements are separated when we
distill the water. Our chemists have learned to form gold by adding
or subtracting neutrons and protons to the nucleus of the atoms of
other more abundant minerals, to make gold. We simply manufacture
whatever we need.”

Still feeling a little embarrassed about
having been nude in Jan-3’s presence, I asked, “What’s your social
life like?”
It must be a lulu.

Roc-2 answered, “All men are handsome, and
all women are beautiful. The sameness can be boring, so we wear
gold and jewels to express our individuality. To a woman, a man’s
desirability depends upon his knowledge, skills, and personality.
Men, who are educated and accomplished, live better than the ones
who aren’t. That hasn’t changed since people lived in caves. Men
want women who want to be women. No man wants a woman who is bossy
and dominant. That’s important to a man living in a society where
most women are highly educated and accomplished. Women don’t need a
man to bear children, and they don’t need a man to provide for
them. That leaves both men and women free to be interesting
companions to one another.”

* * * * *

Chapter 10

“We are expected so we must hurry;” Roc-2
said as he increased his pace.

I was enjoying the brisk walk. I felt alert
and exhilarated and wondered if it were because I had gone through
the purifying tunnel. We entered a conveyance similar to an
elevator, except it moved horizontally as well as vertically. It
seemed as though we were descending into the heart of the city. The
conveyance stopped, and we stepped out in front of an archway with
glowing lights and an array of golden statuary of men and women.
Soft philharmonic-type music was playing, but there was no echoing
as I would have expected in a glass enclosure. I tried to enter
what appeared to be an open archway but bounced back. I had walked
into an invisible wall!

Roc-2 smiled and said, “Wait here with Jan-3.
I’ll see if they’re ready for us.” He stepped unrestricted through
the archway. Jan-3 and I watched him walk down a corridor and
disappear through what appeared to be another invisible door. This
whole thing was becoming surreal, and I was beginning to feel
unsure about the outcome.

Seemingly, out of nowhere, two unsmiling men
appeared. They wore form-fitting uniforms of what looked like
polished copper, with shiny black sashes around their waists. They
didn’t speak; but they motioned for Jan-3 and me to follow them.
They had no visible weapons, but their stony expressions and
unblinking eyes left no doubt that they were prepared to insist,
forcibly if necessary. Jan-3 and I complied with their
gestures.

I put my hand in front of me to prevent
running into the invisible door again and stepped forward. Jan-3
smiled as she stepped briskly through what, for me, had been an
invisible door saying, “Come on, the wall isn’t there anymore.”

I watched the attendants closely. I’m not the
type to follow commands meekly, but I was keenly aware that I had
no say in what was happening. I followed Jan-3 down the passageway
listening to soft, caressing music coming from somewhere. The music
was pleasant, but it did nothing to ease my apprehension. We passed
the place I had seen Roc-2 disappear without my being aware of
having passed it; I looked back and couldn’t see the archway behind
us, so I knew we had walked through another invisible door. I
wondered what I should do if I needed to escape. I probably
wouldn’t be able to find my way out even if I knew where to
run
.
I sure couldn’t zap my way out of this situation—
they’ve taken my button!

We came to a place where a mirror was
blocking the passageway. One of the escorts gestured that we should
proceed.
Proceed to where?

Jan-3 stepped into the mirror; her body
merged with her reflected image and disappeared. I had no idea what
to expect, so I hesitated. When I stepped into the mirror there was
no sensation of passing through anything, but I was suddenly inside
a domed chamber.

Three men sat on a stage, in throne-like
chairs; four uniformed men stood in attendance.

Our escorts led Jan-3 to a high-backed chair
where she sat as though she was to participate in the questioning.
Two attendants led me to a low platform near the center of the room
and indicated by gesture that I should stand on the platform facing
the stage. The men seated wore robes reminiscent of ancient Rome. I
felt as though I was the subject of an inquisition. These men, like
all other adults I had seen, appeared to be about twenty-five years
old. Their heads were covered, and they had finely chiseled
features. Their manner was serious, and their eyes seemed to
penetrate the deepest recesses of my mind.

I was astonished to see that the man seated
in the middle was none other than Roc-2 himself. His eyes were
intense, but at least they were friendly.

From somewhere behind the stage, two men
appeared. One wore a black robe and the other wore white. They
strode to where I was standing and stood beside me. The white-robed
man stood at my right, and the other stood at my left.

Roc-2 raised his right hand. An eerie silence
settled over the assembly. Roc-2 spoke strong and firm: “Gus,
you’re not charged with doing a wrong. We’ve brought you here to
determine if you are a threat to planet Earth. Would you tell us
the story you told me when we first met? Then we’ll question you to
verify that you are who and what you say you are. We must determine
how, and why, you came here.” He extended his hand to me, and said,
“Speak!”

I felt that my life hung in the balance, so I
carefully told the story of how I got the button, and how I learned
to use it. Then I explained that I was seeking knowledge that I
hoped to take back with me to help my people through a difficult
time.

The black-clad man stepped forward and
exclaimed, “He comes among us using knowledge we do not have! The
story of how he obtained the time-travel device seems to be true,
but it doesn’t explain why he used it to come here at this time. I
think he’s a spy.”

The man in white stepped forward. “We’ve
examined his clothing and everything he had on him. They are of
primitive origin. His actions prove he has no knowledge of our
technology, so he has not come from a more advanced culture. I can
see no reason to believe that beings from another galaxy singled
him out to receive the time-travel device, since they had no way of
knowing what he would do with it. I believe his story, and I think
we should use him to help us develop time travel for
ourselves.”

The man in black responded, “You say
everything he had on him was of primitive origin, yet he got here
using technology unknown to us.”

“We have examined the travel device,” the man
in white replied, “and it shows evidence of his trying
unsuccessfully to open it. If he knew what it was, and how it
worked, why then was he trying to open it, and why was he
unsuccessful?”

All eyes turned to the man in the black. “I
have nothing more,” he said.

Roc-2 asked, “Is there anyone else who has
anything to say?”

Jan-3 said, “His knowledge of the history of
the twentieth and early twenty-first century proves that he is a
citizen of that time. I think he is who he says he is, and I
recommend that we accept him as one of us and use his knowledge to
help us.”

“I, too, spent time with Gus,” Roc-2 added,
“and I think he’s telling the truth. I agree with Jan-3; we should
accept him.”

The others nodded.

* * * * *

Chapter 11

“Gus, you’ve been accepted,” Roc-2 announced.
“Now enjoy your time with Jan-3, and after you’ve eaten and rested,
we’ll ask you to tell us what you’ve learned about what you call
the button. We’ll return the rest of your things to you, or if you
would prefer, we’ll give you vastly updated versions of everything.
I’ll stay here and assist our men of science in examining the
button while Jan-3 shows you around the city.”

Jan-3 glanced back at me and walked from the
chamber. Without speaking, the escorts and attendants disappeared
behind a gold curtain.

I quickly caught up with Jan-3 and asked,
“Why do none of the attendants speak?”

“They do speak if you ask them a question,
but they aren’t programmed to initiate thought. They can only
respond to thoughts that humans initiate.”

Puzzled, I asked, “What do you
mean—programmed?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jan-3 responded, “I thought
you knew. They’re not humans—they’re robots. The men in the black
and white robes were humans, and Roc-2 is human, of course, but all
the rest are robots that are programmed to detect deceit.”

“They looked human. How do they detect
deceit?”

“They are improvements on what in your time
you called lie detectors. The lie detectors you used were not
always reliable because of the possibility of human error. These
robots are unfailing. They read every body movement, every change
in voice tone. They scan the retinas of your eyes and read your
thoughts. The troops who escorted us to the review chamber were
robots, and they reported your thoughts of escaping. That made you
suspect, but you told your story clearly and honestly. The debate
between the man in black and the man in white was secondary to the
decision, because their arguments were subject to human error. Even
so, their opinions were a part of every decision because only
humans can make decisions.”

“Then lying is senseless,” I commented. “That
would make it very difficult for lawyers, preachers, and
politicians of my time.”

Jan-3 smiled. “Yes, and it would have made it
difficult for most sales persons, historians, and anyone else who
made their living by over or under stating their positions and
products. That’s why no one disobeys the law. The infraction would
be noted at once.”

Concerned about what I’d been thinking about
Jan-3, I asked, “Can humans read other humans’ thoughts?”

“People have always been intuitive, but we
don’t read other’s thoughts—that would be an invasion of their
privacy, and it would violate our law.”

“Could you ask a robot to read thoughts for
you?”

“Yes, of course. That’s what we did when we
examined you, but robots can only answer questions asked by humans.
Having robots read thoughts for personal reasons would be harmful.
No one would ask a robot to answer a question that would violate
your privacy.”

“Do you have crimes of passion?” I asked.

“We all feel passionately about many things,
but we don’t commit acts of violence. A person who would do that is
flawed, and we would treat that flaw.” She changed the subject,
“What would you like to know about our cities?”

“As an engineer, I’d like to know how you
build, power, and maintain your cities. But first, I’d like to get
something to eat. I’m hungry!”

“What would you like to eat?”

“I’m a meat-and-potatoes man. I’d like a good
steak.”

“We don’t eat the flesh of animals, but we
have restaurants that can provide whatever you want. I’ll take you
to a place I think you’ll like.”

Jan-3 walked to a pedestal by the door and
dialed a number. Almost instantly, a keri that was smaller than a
minivan appeared. By sitting back inside, we had complete privacy.
The interior was upholstered in a material that looked like red
velveteen. Sitting on a perfectly shaped seat upholstered in the
finest material I had ever seen, I could imagine how sitting on a
cloud might feel.