Darkness and Dawn 3 The After Glow

The Pioneer Novel of a New America. Somewhere near the Great Lakes, 1000 years from now. 500 miles below our planet’s surface tribes of near human albino warriors eke out an existence in a hostile environment. They tell stories of a golden age, of sunlight, of art and culture; but such tales are mere myths - until a man and a woman with god-like abilities arrive and promise to lead them towards the surface, towards the light and to a new life of plenty.

On the broad porch of their home, a boulder-built cottage facing the broad plaza where palms shaded the graveled paths, and purple, yellow and scarlet blooms lured humming-birds and butterflies, stood Beatrice and Allan.

Both were smiling in the clear June sunlight of that early morning. A cradle rocked by Gesafam -- a little older and more bent, yet still hardy -- gave glimpses of another olive-branch, this one a girl.
The piazza was littered at its farthest end with serviceable, home-made playthings; but Allan, junior, had no use for them today. Out there on the lawn of the plaza he was rolling and running with a troop of other children -- many, many children, indeed.

As Beatrice and Allan watched the play they smiled; and through the man’s arm crept the woman’s hand, and with the confidence of perfect trust she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Whoever could have thought,” said he at last, “that all this really could come true? In those dark hours when the Horde had all but swallowed us, when we fell into the Abyss, when those terrible adventures racked our souls down beside the Sunken Sea, and later, here, when everything seemed lost -- who could have foreseen this?”

“You could and did!” she answered. “From the beginning you planned everything, Allan. It was all foreseen and nothing ever stopped you, just as the future beyond this time is all foreseen by you and must and shall be as you plan it!”

“Shall be, with your help!” he murmured, and silence came again. Together they watched the holiday crowd gradually congregating in the vast plaza where once the palisade had been. Now the old wooden stockade had long vanished. Cleared land and farms extended far beyond even Newport Heights, where the Pauillac had first come to earth at New Hope.

Well-kept roads connected them all with the settlement. And for some miles to southward the primeval forests had been vanquished by the ever-extending hand of this new, swiftly growing race.

“With my help and theirs!” she rejoined presently. “Never forget, dear, how wonderfully they’ve taken hold, how they’ve labored, developed and grown in every way. You’d be surprised -- really you would -- if you came in contact with them as I do in the schools, to see the marvelous way they learn -- old and young alike. It’s a miracle, that’s for sure!”

“No, not exactly,” he explained. “It’s atavism. These people of ours were really civilized in essence, despite all the overlying ages of barbarism. Civilization was latent in them, that’s all. Just as all the children born here under normal conditions have reverted to pigmented skin and hair and eyes, so even the grown-ups have thrown back to civilization. Two or three years at the outside have put back the coloring matter in every newcomer’s iris and epidermis. Just so --”

A sudden and quickly-growing tumult in the plaza and down the long, broad street interrupted him. He saw a waving of hands, a general craning of necks, a drift toward the north side of the square, the river side.

The shouts and cheers increased and cries of “They come! They come!” rose on the morning air.

“Already?” exclaimed Allan in surprise. “These new machines certainly do surprise me with their speed and power. In the old days the Pauillac wouldn’t have been here before noon from the Abyss!”

Together, Beatrice and he walked round the wide piazza to the rear of the bungalow. The home estate sloped gently down toward the cement and boulder wall edging the cliff. In its broad garden stood the stable, where half a dozen horses -- caught on the northern savannas and carefully tamed -- disputed their master’s favor with the touring car he had built up from half a dozen partly ruined machines in Atlanta and other cities.

Up the cliff still roared the thunder of the rapids, today untamed by the many turbines and power-plants along the shore. But louder than the river rose the tumult of the rejoicing throng: “They come! They come!”

“Where?” questioned Beta. “See them, boy?”

“There! Look! How swift! My trained men can outfly me now -- more luck to them!”On the broad porch of their home, a boulder-built cottage facing the broad plaza where palms shaded the graveled paths, and purple, yellow and scarlet blooms lured humming-birds and butterflies, stood Beatrice and Allan.

Both were smiling in the clear June sunlight of that early morning. A cradle rocked by Gesafam -- a little older and more bent, yet still hardy -- gave glimpses of another olive-branch, this one a girl.
The piazza was littered at its farthest end with serviceable, home-made playthings; but Allan, junior, had no use for them today. Out there on the lawn of the plaza he was rolling and running with a troop of other children -- many, many children, indeed.

As Beatrice and Allan watched the play they smiled; and through the man’s arm crept the woman’s hand, and with the confidence of perfect trust she leaned her head against his shoulder.

“Whoever could have thought,” said he at last, “that all this really could come true? In those dark hours when the Horde had all but swallowed us, when we fell into the Abyss, when those terrible adventures racked our souls down beside the Sunken Sea, and later, here, when everything seemed lost -- who could have foreseen this?”

“You could and did!” she answered. “From the beginning you planned everything, Allan. It was all foreseen and nothing ever stopped you, just as the future beyond this time is all foreseen by you and must and shall be as you plan it!”

“Shall be, with your help!” he murmured, and silence came again. Together they watched the holiday crowd gradually congregating in the vast plaza where once the palisade had been. Now the old wooden stockade had long vanished. Cleared land and farms extended far beyond even Newport Heights, where the Pauillac had first come to earth at New Hope.

Well-kept roads connected them all with the settlement. And for some miles to southward the primeval forests had been vanquished by the ever-extending hand of this new, swiftly growing race.

“With my help and theirs!” she rejoined presently. “Never forget, dear, how wonderfully they’ve taken hold, how they’ve labored, developed and grown in every way. You’d be surprised -- really you would -- if you came in contact with them as I do in the schools, to see the marvelous way they learn -- old and young alike. It’s a miracle, that’s for sure!”

“No, not exactly,” he explained. “It’s atavism. These people of ours were really civilized in essence, despite all the overlying ages of barbarism. Civilization was latent in them, that’s all. Just as all the children born here under normal conditions have reverted to pigmented skin and hair and eyes, so even the grown-ups have thrown back to civilization. Two or three years at the outside have put back the coloring matter in every newcomer’s iris and epidermis. Just so --”

A sudden and quickly-growing tumult in the plaza and down the long, broad street interrupted him. He saw a waving of hands, a general craning of necks, a drift toward the north side of the square, the river side.

The shouts and cheers increased and cries of “They come! They come!” rose on the morning air.

“Already?” exclaimed Allan in surprise. “These new machines certainly do surprise me with their speed and power. In the old days the Pauillac wouldn’t have been here before noon from the Abyss!”

Together, Beatrice and he walked round the wide piazza to the rear of the bungalow. The home estate sloped gently down toward the cement and boulder wall edging the cliff. In its broad garden stood the stable, where half a dozen horses -- caught on the northern savannas and carefully tamed -- disputed their master’s favor with the touring car he had built up from half a dozen partly ruined machines in Atlanta and other cities.

Up the cliff still roared the thunder of the rapids, today untamed by the many turbines and power-plants along the shore. But louder than the river rose the tumult of the rejoicing throng: “They come! They come!”

“Where?” questioned Beta. “See them, boy?”

“There! Look! How swift! My trained men can outfly me now -- more luck to them!”