last visit to the surface (short story)
Chadwick loved reading for as long as he could remember. As a child, he had fond memories of reading stories from the digital displays, his imagination stoked by stories of Gulliver and the Lilliputians, of the castaway Robinson Crusoe and his faithful companion Friday, and of Jean Luc Picard and the starship Enterprise. He could recall reading them next to a crackling fire, alone in the deep recesses of the Cave, eagerly scrolling through the pages. Ah, those were the times!
Even after the age-old displays went dark, stories were still easy to come by. There were several hundred books to be found, with words formed with black ink printed upon bound pieces of flattened pulp. Chadwick himself owned one such book, Volume One of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, a gift from his father. Written over a thousand years ago, Chadwick nonetheless felt an instant connection to the eccentric Holmes and thought he had much in common with the Victorian. Even as an adult, he would take breaks from his shift harvesting cave moss and find a quiet place to walk alongside his hero in the dark and mysterious streets of old London.
He certainly had the time. All of the last vestiges of modernity the cave dwellers had - everything from the LCD displays, air conditioning, refrigeration, stereo equipment to solar panels - all of these had seen their final days during Chadwick's lifetime. As the surface of the Earth became increasingly hot, temperatures reached as high as 180 degrees in the summer months. The solar panels, which had faithfully provided the cave dwellers with electricity for almost a thousand years, could not withstand the heat and literally melted under the scorching desert sun. As the cave dwellers lost their access to technology, their ability to survive plummeted. Without access to lighting, workers could harvest only a fraction of the moss required to sustain a community. Without access to the electronic water purifier, many of the cave dwellers became sick drinking unsafe water from wherever they could find it. In the years that followed, Chadwick watched helplessly as the cave dwelling community became ravaged from hunger, disease, and thirst, reducing their numbers to single digits.
The remaining survivors, unable to survive near the entrances of the caves, had to move deeper into the inner chambers of the caves, in order to escape the unbearable heat. One by one, they became lost and perished until finally, Chadwick was the final cave dweller.
While knowing full well that his days were numbered, Chadwick still went about his daily routine. He would scour the corners of the cave, gathering the last of the cave moss and bottling any water he could find. During these trips to the very depths of the cave, he often wondered what laid above on the surface. He had heard from others that, not far from the cave's opening to the surface, that there was a nearby library, with thousands upon thousands of books that laid on shelves, literally waiting for someone to read them.
Most importantly, this library was likely to have a copy of the complete works of Sherlock Holmes. Chadwick had always wondered what twists and turns remained in store for Holmes, and longed for answers that a single volume could not offer.
One day, while searching for clean water along one of the cavern walls, he spied a small beam of light pouring through a pinhole-sized hole in the ceiling. Surprised at never having seen it before, he climbed up to a rocky ledge to reach it. He pressed his eye against it and peered into the light. Unfortunately, he could see nothing from this distance. Disappointed, he climbed down from the ledge and sat staring at the light for a few minutes in silence.
He realized then that he had never seen the sun first-hand. He had avoided sunlight his whole life, but knew his heart he wanted nothing more than to see the world above the walls of the cave. "I'm going to the surface," he decided to himself. With new resolve, he stopped his search for water and instead gathered the last of his supplies from throughout the cave. "I'm going to the surface, even if it kills me."
Slowly but surely, Chadwick made his ascent to the entrance of the cave. While it had been well traveled by him and his people for hundreds of years, he found himself lost on several occasions, for there was no light to guide him. Undeterred, he always managed to backtrack, feel for a familiar marker, and find the main path to the surface. After several hours of navigating through pitch black darkness, he found a crack of light, which then took him to the surface in minutes. "Ahhh," he said to himself when looking out at the surface for the first time, "it's beautiful." The brown and barren wasteland stretched for eternity in all directions. It scared and excited him to no end.
As it was evening in the middle of December, Chadwick had little difficulty adjusting to the heat on the surface. It was nearly a hundred degrees, but yet Chadwick could hardly contain his delight at how fortunate he was to have "cool" weather. Looking toward the horizon, he saw what seemed to be a "town", and made his way in that direction. He walked for hours, even after the sun had fallen, knowing full well how difficult travel would be in the day time. Eventually, he knew he had reached the outskirts of town. He could not fully see it, of course, but he could feel the rough sand give way to walkways made of asphalt and concrete. He saw the shapes of iron fences, towering buildings, and sign posts, all alien to him and yet strangely familiar. Exhausted, he entered one of the unknown buildings and curled up on the middle of the floor. "Tomorrow," he told himself before falling sleep, "I'm going to find what I'm looking for."
-----------------------------------
The morning sunshine awakened Chadwick, a light more pristine and pure than any light had seen in his life underground. He prepared for himself a final meal, hungrily eating the last of the bitter moss and greedily drinking the last of his water. After he finished, he made his way outside to look for the library before the sun became too strong for him to finish his journey.
He walked along the cobblestone streets of the town and marveled at the buildings that towered over him. Even in their state of disrepair, they still filled Chadwick with emotion and visions of what they were like in the days before the Sun forced Man to retreat below the surface.
After many hours, Chadwick finally found what he was looking for. Etched into the concrete wall were the words "Public Library", and it was enough to bring tears to Chadwick's eyes. Filled with equal parts trepidation and wonder, he opened the front door and made his way inside.
He could hardly believe what he saw - books upon books, still neatly tucked away in metal and wooden shelves. He felt like a youth again, but fought his desire to start reading the first thing he saw; after all, he was now on borrowed time.
After wandering aimlessly from aisle to aisle, it occurred to him that none of the books had titles. "This is strange," he thought to himself, "surely books with printed text should also have printed titles." He stared down rows of books, until finally he came upon a table with a large book bound in leather with the words "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - The Complete Works" branded into its surface. He was overjoyed - he grabbed the book with both hands and threw open its cover to read what was inside.
What he saw next astounded him - he saw nothing. He flipped page after page, only to find that the pages were blank. Where he had expected to find text, he instead saw smudges, smears and ink running alongside the edges of the book. "No," he said to himself in a half-panic, "where are the words?!" It then dawned on him that the sun had taken its toll on ALL the books - years of exposure to the unforgiving light and heat from the sun had melted the words right off their pages. Angry and desperate, he closed the book and wept weakly to himself before finally collasping from exhaustion.
Unable to stand, he crawled back to entrance of the library, where he found the words "Thank you for visiting the Public Library of London!" carved into the wood above the door. "London..." he said to himself, "My God!" Until that moment, he had not known that he lived just outside of London the entire time! Gathering the last of his strength, he got to his feet and sat himself down outside, on the steps to the library.
The sun was now almost directly overhead, and the heat was overwhelming. Nonetheless, he refused to move. He looked out at London and squinted his eyes, imagining what it must have looked like in the Victorian age. He saw Big Ben, the London Eye, and throngs of gentlemen and women walking its unswept streets dressed in fine suits and elegant Victorian-era gowns. He could hear the pitter-patter of horse-drawn carriages, the shouts of street vendors hawking their wares, and the sounds of children chasing each other though the alleyways. He then could see his hero, Sherlock Holmes, in the distance, beckoning him to come along and join him on a new journey. "The game is a foot, Chadwick!" he could hear Sherlock say, "let us make haste!"
Full of contentment and happiness, Chadwick burned this final image into his eyes and passed away peacefully, a man in the streets of London.
Even after the age-old displays went dark, stories were still easy to come by. There were several hundred books to be found, with words formed with black ink printed upon bound pieces of flattened pulp. Chadwick himself owned one such book, Volume One of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, a gift from his father. Written over a thousand years ago, Chadwick nonetheless felt an instant connection to the eccentric Holmes and thought he had much in common with the Victorian. Even as an adult, he would take breaks from his shift harvesting cave moss and find a quiet place to walk alongside his hero in the dark and mysterious streets of old London.
He certainly had the time. All of the last vestiges of modernity the cave dwellers had - everything from the LCD displays, air conditioning, refrigeration, stereo equipment to solar panels - all of these had seen their final days during Chadwick's lifetime. As the surface of the Earth became increasingly hot, temperatures reached as high as 180 degrees in the summer months. The solar panels, which had faithfully provided the cave dwellers with electricity for almost a thousand years, could not withstand the heat and literally melted under the scorching desert sun. As the cave dwellers lost their access to technology, their ability to survive plummeted. Without access to lighting, workers could harvest only a fraction of the moss required to sustain a community. Without access to the electronic water purifier, many of the cave dwellers became sick drinking unsafe water from wherever they could find it. In the years that followed, Chadwick watched helplessly as the cave dwelling community became ravaged from hunger, disease, and thirst, reducing their numbers to single digits.
The remaining survivors, unable to survive near the entrances of the caves, had to move deeper into the inner chambers of the caves, in order to escape the unbearable heat. One by one, they became lost and perished until finally, Chadwick was the final cave dweller.
While knowing full well that his days were numbered, Chadwick still went about his daily routine. He would scour the corners of the cave, gathering the last of the cave moss and bottling any water he could find. During these trips to the very depths of the cave, he often wondered what laid above on the surface. He had heard from others that, not far from the cave's opening to the surface, that there was a nearby library, with thousands upon thousands of books that laid on shelves, literally waiting for someone to read them.
Most importantly, this library was likely to have a copy of the complete works of Sherlock Holmes. Chadwick had always wondered what twists and turns remained in store for Holmes, and longed for answers that a single volume could not offer.
One day, while searching for clean water along one of the cavern walls, he spied a small beam of light pouring through a pinhole-sized hole in the ceiling. Surprised at never having seen it before, he climbed up to a rocky ledge to reach it. He pressed his eye against it and peered into the light. Unfortunately, he could see nothing from this distance. Disappointed, he climbed down from the ledge and sat staring at the light for a few minutes in silence.
He realized then that he had never seen the sun first-hand. He had avoided sunlight his whole life, but knew his heart he wanted nothing more than to see the world above the walls of the cave. "I'm going to the surface," he decided to himself. With new resolve, he stopped his search for water and instead gathered the last of his supplies from throughout the cave. "I'm going to the surface, even if it kills me."
Slowly but surely, Chadwick made his ascent to the entrance of the cave. While it had been well traveled by him and his people for hundreds of years, he found himself lost on several occasions, for there was no light to guide him. Undeterred, he always managed to backtrack, feel for a familiar marker, and find the main path to the surface. After several hours of navigating through pitch black darkness, he found a crack of light, which then took him to the surface in minutes. "Ahhh," he said to himself when looking out at the surface for the first time, "it's beautiful." The brown and barren wasteland stretched for eternity in all directions. It scared and excited him to no end.
As it was evening in the middle of December, Chadwick had little difficulty adjusting to the heat on the surface. It was nearly a hundred degrees, but yet Chadwick could hardly contain his delight at how fortunate he was to have "cool" weather. Looking toward the horizon, he saw what seemed to be a "town", and made his way in that direction. He walked for hours, even after the sun had fallen, knowing full well how difficult travel would be in the day time. Eventually, he knew he had reached the outskirts of town. He could not fully see it, of course, but he could feel the rough sand give way to walkways made of asphalt and concrete. He saw the shapes of iron fences, towering buildings, and sign posts, all alien to him and yet strangely familiar. Exhausted, he entered one of the unknown buildings and curled up on the middle of the floor. "Tomorrow," he told himself before falling sleep, "I'm going to find what I'm looking for."
-----------------------------------
The morning sunshine awakened Chadwick, a light more pristine and pure than any light had seen in his life underground. He prepared for himself a final meal, hungrily eating the last of the bitter moss and greedily drinking the last of his water. After he finished, he made his way outside to look for the library before the sun became too strong for him to finish his journey.
He walked along the cobblestone streets of the town and marveled at the buildings that towered over him. Even in their state of disrepair, they still filled Chadwick with emotion and visions of what they were like in the days before the Sun forced Man to retreat below the surface.
After many hours, Chadwick finally found what he was looking for. Etched into the concrete wall were the words "Public Library", and it was enough to bring tears to Chadwick's eyes. Filled with equal parts trepidation and wonder, he opened the front door and made his way inside.
He could hardly believe what he saw - books upon books, still neatly tucked away in metal and wooden shelves. He felt like a youth again, but fought his desire to start reading the first thing he saw; after all, he was now on borrowed time.
After wandering aimlessly from aisle to aisle, it occurred to him that none of the books had titles. "This is strange," he thought to himself, "surely books with printed text should also have printed titles." He stared down rows of books, until finally he came upon a table with a large book bound in leather with the words "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - The Complete Works" branded into its surface. He was overjoyed - he grabbed the book with both hands and threw open its cover to read what was inside.
What he saw next astounded him - he saw nothing. He flipped page after page, only to find that the pages were blank. Where he had expected to find text, he instead saw smudges, smears and ink running alongside the edges of the book. "No," he said to himself in a half-panic, "where are the words?!" It then dawned on him that the sun had taken its toll on ALL the books - years of exposure to the unforgiving light and heat from the sun had melted the words right off their pages. Angry and desperate, he closed the book and wept weakly to himself before finally collasping from exhaustion.
Unable to stand, he crawled back to entrance of the library, where he found the words "Thank you for visiting the Public Library of London!" carved into the wood above the door. "London..." he said to himself, "My God!" Until that moment, he had not known that he lived just outside of London the entire time! Gathering the last of his strength, he got to his feet and sat himself down outside, on the steps to the library.
The sun was now almost directly overhead, and the heat was overwhelming. Nonetheless, he refused to move. He looked out at London and squinted his eyes, imagining what it must have looked like in the Victorian age. He saw Big Ben, the London Eye, and throngs of gentlemen and women walking its unswept streets dressed in fine suits and elegant Victorian-era gowns. He could hear the pitter-patter of horse-drawn carriages, the shouts of street vendors hawking their wares, and the sounds of children chasing each other though the alleyways. He then could see his hero, Sherlock Holmes, in the distance, beckoning him to come along and join him on a new journey. "The game is a foot, Chadwick!" he could hear Sherlock say, "let us make haste!"
Full of contentment and happiness, Chadwick burned this final image into his eyes and passed away peacefully, a man in the streets of London.
posted by Nathan at 11:10 PM
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