Tempus Frangit Ch. 02

Then he led us out into the vast space of the dome itself. It was much larger than I expected, considering it had to be one of the smaller domes. An odd place rather reminiscent of a town square crossed with a country park. Great paved areas, with rolling lawns in between, and a few single story buildings dotted about here and there rather higgledy-piggledy.

People were lounging around outside them, on chairs and what looked like sun beds, while others appeared to be playing sports on the grassed areas. It was pleasant to note that not everyone wore the same bright yellow get-ups as Adona and his gang.

Mind you, it did appear that the people liked vivid colours. Almost every colour of the rainbow it looked like. Most were wearing the same design shirt and jeans ensemble as Adona, but in many different colours, it stood out that very few were wearing yellow. But then again, some folk, both men and women, were wearing what looked something like Roman togas. Difficult to be more precise because the only togas I'd ever seen were the film industries interpretations of what a toga should look like. But once again they were of a myriad of different bright colours, and only the odd one or two of them were shades of yellow.

We trailed along behind Adona right across the expanse of the dome, until we came to a long single storey building. Dotted about in a wide arc around it, were guys in those yellow shirts again.

"I hope this will suffice your needs. I'm afraid that most of the city is below ground; our people only use the surface as recreation areas, but it was thought that you'd prefer to live up here. It's been kitted out with everything we believe you'll need. If there is anything we've forgotten, then please ask one of your guides."

Adona told us as he led the way inside and introduced us to about a dozen young men and women, who, it was explained, were to be our guides.

I kind-a sussed them as minders straight away. Most of them left with Adona, leaving us with a young couple who showed us around our accommodation.

Mind you, once again, the guy had trouble dragging his eyes away from Sylvia and Rose. The young woman couldn't -- or wouldn't -- stop grinning like a Cheshire cat, at Doug and myself every-time we spoke to her.

To our surprise there were four bedrooms, and it appeared to cause a little consternation in our minders, when we showed preference for only using two of them. They appeared to have assumed that Sylvia and I for instance, would use adjoining rooms. They had to swiftly move around the clothing they had supplied for us.

Yeah, sorry I didn't mention the clothing did I? Well, not the fact that Adona had insisted that we did not pack or take anything with us from the sphere, other than what we were actually wearing at the time.

Mind you, that had caused more than a short delay while Sylvia and Rose changed into attire they deemed suitable for travelling and meeting new people in. Much to Adona's confusion actually, but of course he was used to everyone wearing those same basic outfits.

Adona had insisted that everything we could possibly need would be supplied, and it was. Albeit, that same basic designed clothing, much to the girls chagrin, at first. Well, except for shaving gear for Doug and I -- it appeared that our hosts no longer grew facial hair -- but that oversight was swiftly corrected. Oh yeah, and brassieres for the two girls by the way; once again an oversight, and one not so quickly remedied.

As I said, we all had the same choice of outer clothing, either those shirts -- longer dress type things, worn untucked-in by the girls -- and the jeans or whatever. Or a kind-of short dress-thing, with the toga get-ups to go over the top.

Doug and I both went for the shirt and leggings at first, although they were embarrassingly tight fitting in certain areas. Later we both switched to the toga get-ups.

Yeah well, wearing a dress -- when every other male around, appears to be in the habit of wearing them -- isn't as embarrassing as virtually having your wedding tackle on public display all the time. Those bloody leggings were very thin and extremely... body hugging. Come on, you get the idea!

The strange thing was, except for the leggings -- of which every pair we ever saw anyone wearing, were black. Our shirts, togas, the two girls dresses and everything else, were white.

What's more, later when we went out to explore with -- or rather; were taken on a very carefully choreographed guided tour by -- our two minders, I noticed that we saw not one other person wearing white.

Doug, who -- it had become clearly apparent is more observant than I -- pointed out that colour of dress appeared to be very significant in their society.

"Behind us are two guys in yellow, kitted out like Adona's guys were. These two monkeys showing us around, yellow. Everyone else in shades of various colours. But, if you observe carefully, the people dressed in shades of blue appear to be subservient to folks dressed in reds, and those in green garments subservient to both. What's more, folks dressed in the subservient colours clear the way for others," Doug explained to me.

"You reckon?" I asked.

"Quite definitely, me old mate. What's more, I think that the brighter or more vivid the colour of their clothes, then the higher ranked they are. Notice all the subtle differences in the shades of their clothing and the way each reacts to the others."

"Yeah well, Adona's shirt was a much deeper or brighter yellow than those other guys, and the history professor bloke his shirt was bright as well," I agreed, "But why are we dressed in white then, do you think that has any significance?"

"Not that I can come up with, unless it's to make us stand out from the crowd."

"Mind you, white is supposed to be the colour of virginity, do you think that has any significance?" I observed.

"Oh Christ, I hope not; there's enough of the lechers drooling over the girls as it is. Have you noticed how these guys all seem fascinated by the sight of them?"

"Yeah, but have you noticed the women, Doug. We're getting much more than a cursory glance from all of them. It don't make sense, all these guys are not far short of Adonis's. Jesus, I reckon that's where Adona gets his name from; why the hell are you and I getting admiring glances from these women all the time?"

"More than admiring glances, George. There was some bird back there, giving me a real come-on look. I weren't born yesterday you know, I can tell when some bird is giving me that 'take me to bed' look."

"I wonder why? You know, with all this macho talent about."

"Well I think I might have come up with a theory about that one, George. Take a long look at any one of these people, and then look at any other."

"Yeah well?"

"Well, there's a sameness about them. All the guys are the same height and build, well almost, and they are all handsome buggers. Too handsome, if you think about it! Actually they are all a slight variation on the same theme; with minor exceptions, all the same... looking, anyway. And all these dolly birds... Well, except for the hairstyles, you'd have trouble picking that minder bird out from any of the others, if she was wearing the same colour clothing."

"Jesus, you're right, Douglas, they are not far off clones of each other."

"Not quite, but I suspect all these folks come from a very small gene pool. I think I've discerned about five very basic slightly different general groups of each gender, so far. There's possibly more of course; we'll no doubt find out over the next few days.

"So what you are saying is, those guys are sniffing around Sylvia and Rose, because physically, they're different to the women they are used to."

"That's about it my friend, and I think the females here are looking upon you and I, in the same way. I believe we are going to have to make some rather difficult decisions over the next few days."

"Holy cow, you don't think Sylvia and Rose really would... do you?"

"I don't know about Sylvia, she's your worry George. But Rose is... well she can be very... bugger no, I don't know if I really can trust her. She is a beautiful young woman with very high sex drive, and easily flattered, you know. I have no idea if common sense will win out over her base instincts. She's almost besotted finding herself surrounded by all these...

"Arseholes, Doug; arseholes!"

For the rest of our extended walking tour, I personally checked out Doug's observations and found that I had to agree with his conclusions about everything. The colour of everyone's clothes, and the apparent limited genetic pool all the inhabitants appeared to have originated from.

We were taken down, well below ground level, into great chambers that had to have been hewn from solid rock. Don't ask where the ambient light came from in those great chambers, Doug and I couldn't fathom that one out at all. There were certainly no strong distinct shadows to be discerned. The light appeared to emanate from the roof of those chambers

And rather strangely, in those chambers were... well, what appeared to be blocks of flats built several storeys high. And more of those gardens and piazzas again. And then there were larger buildings, halls, centres of entertainment and the like, we were told. Our guides were quite informative, but didn't seem to understand Doug and my questions about were the light was coming from. They just said, "The walls and ceiling." and pointed to them.

It was only later when we'd returned to our digs as the sun was going down that we discovered that the walls, or more likely a coating of some kind on them, did give off light. When you entered any room, you just asked for light and the walls and ceiling glowed. "More light?" made them glow brighter. "Less light?" and they dimmed. "No light." and you were plunged into darkness.

However Douglas and I didn't think the light in the underground domes came from the same source. But we could have been wrong.

Adona turned up to join us for our evening meal, of fruit. And with him he brought several of his crew -- yes, those guys -- a group of young women, and more than a few bottles of wine.

Well, they called it wine, it was a little on the weak side -- alcohol wise -- for Doug and my liking; but beggars can't be choosers, can they? It didn't taste too bad, once you got the hang of getting the stuff down, but there was little in the way of a kick behind the crap.

Adona, by the way, was not sporting his yellow shirt, but a rather bright-red one. His crewmates a slightly lighter shade of red. Two of the young women's toga-dress things, were in the same shade of red that Adona was wearing. The other two were dressed in purple; a colour that Doug and I could not recall seeing anyone else wearing until we met them. One of the two, Ciera, was in a very deep yet vivid purple, toga type dress. What's more, the style or design of Ciera's attire was not exactly the same as all of the other women's toga's, we'd seen. Markedly different, actually!

Ciera, I can only say, was enchanting. Mind you, as was Chaise, the other young woman dressed in purple. Actually I was quite embarrassed for a while because almost from the moment Adona introduced Ciera to me, she blatantly tipped her hat in my direction. Which I found a little suspicious...

Well, I thought that Adona had brought her along that evening, and he had showered her with more attention and consideration than any other female present, even Sylvia and Rose! So at first sight I had thought... Well, I'm sure you realise why I was embarrassed. I had instantly assumed that they were an item, and remained thinking that for quite a long time.

Mind you, not that I had noticed at the time, but on reflection, it was clearly discernible that all of our visitors (including our two minders) were conspicuously conscious of Ciera's wishes. Nothing was said in actual words, it was a body language thing.

As the evening wore on, I found myself... how should I put it... in conversation with Ciera and Chaise the majority of the time. On reflection again I must admit that they monopolized me, and kept me so occupied, that I lost track of Sylvia and Rose for most of the evening. Doug too, if I cared to admit it!

But when two very fine looking young women... Yeah well, come on you know where I'm coming from here. To be honest, I forgot myself, and the egocentric side of my nature took precedence.

The strange thing was, I can't be sure now, what the hell we talked about. Well, I suppose it must have been myself, and Sylvia, and our life in the twentieth century. But I know that that first evening I learnt very little about Ciera and Chaise.

Except peculiarly, that they reminded of a particular pair of twins I'd been very... friendly with, back in my school days. Ciera and Chaise quite definitely weren't twins, that was plain to see. But they appeared to have the same strange kind of symbiotic relationship that identical twins (or really close siblings) sometimes appear to have with each other. Both girls were in the habit of completing the other's sentences all the time. Whether it be a question, or answer, instinctively one seemed to know what the other was about to say.

Kind-a... well, disconcerting until you get used to it. Maybe it was because I was so used to Shirley and Sheryl -- the twins from my school days I just mentioned -- doing it all the time. That at first I failed to notice that Ciera and Chaise did the same thing, as much as they actually do.

Later, after all of our guests had left, Doug and I went outside together so that he could enjoy a smoke of his pipe, in peace. Yeah well, whenever he had tried to light the thing earlier... Well, imagine what would happen if Elvis was to suddenly be reincarnated in the middle Piccadilly Circus -- or Times Square -- during the rush hour. Every bugger in Christendom, walked over to stare at him.

Anyway, except for those security guys, trying to look inconspicuous around the virtually deserted piazza, there were very few other people about by then.

"A clear anomaly," Doug said after taking a much needed drag at his pipe. Then he looked me right in the eye, "I don't know who that Ciera bird is George, but she's different. You know those two in purple are from a completely separate social subclass to everyone else we've met, so far."

"You reckon?" I replied, once again feeling that I hadn't been as observant as I should have been.

"Oh yeah. Those two minders were visibly shaken when they saw the other girl, and then they nearly shit themselves when Ciera walked in the door."

"You think she's someone special?"

"I have no real idea mate; but she's no common-a-garden pleb, that's for bloody sure. When you and her were talking outside, those guards, or whatever they are supposed to be, were all standing smartly to attention, no mistaking it! And there were more of them about as well. They showed up at the same time as our guests arrived."

"Doug, what do you think is really going on here?"

"I haven't got the faintest idea about that either, mate. But something weird that's for sure. No disrespect mate but that Ciera and her mate..."

"Chaise!"

"Yeah, I didn't get her name, she didn't say two words to me. Anyway they were drooling over you this evening."

I'm not surprised you were too busy feeding that blond bird your line of shi..."

"I was doing nothing of the kind. She was asking me about... Hang on... You know what I have no idea what we talked about."

"No more than you or I have any idea what our wives were saying or doing with Adona and his oppos, Douglas. If you care to think about it, we were stitched-up quite nicely this evening!"

"Yeah, Jesus, we fell for it; didn't we? The buggers waved a few pretty faces in front of us, and like bleeding demented ducks we started paddling for all we were worth. I don't like all this, George. I wish I knew what their game really is. You know, I'm damned sure that Adona and his pals have been feeding us a line of shit about that Pemberton geezer. Can't exactly say why, but it just don't make much sense to me. If they do persuade Pemberton to do or not to do... invent or not invent, whatever it is... Well, as far as they are concerned they will have already done it. Do you understand what I'm getting at?

"Not really, no!"

"Well look at this way. If say in the year 2000, someone invents a time machine and it strikes them as a good idea to prevent World War Two from happening. Well, all they'd have to do is go back to say... 1925, and quietly bump-off Adolph Hitler... Hey presto, no Hitler... no Nazi party... and no World War Two. But the only problem is, it wouldn't bloody-well work!"

"Why not?"

"Well think about it... If there was no World War Two, then the guy who invented the bleeding time machine, wouldn't have reason to go back in time to Germany and kill-off Hitler, would he? Jesus he wouldn't have the faintest idea who Adolph Hitler was in the first place. And besides there wouldn't have been technology boost that came out of that conflict, and that would probably mean that the guy wouldn't have wherewithal to invent the ruddy time machine in the first place!"

"That's a point," I had to agree.

"So why all this interest in the Pemberton guy? No. I think we, you and me were the prime targets in this operation. You specifically."

"You're kidding me?"

"Nope, it's beginning to make some sense to me... not much, but a little. That history geezer seemed to know a hell of a lot about you in particular. He didn't mean to tell me, I'm pretty sure it was a slip of the tongue. He tried to cover it, by moving the subject away from you and telling me that I am going to father three kids."

"So, he did some research during the night."

I don't think their systems are that good George. We're just two insignificant plebs who live in the back of nowhere, in 1988 remember. Jesus, three hundred years after we're dead, I doubt anyone will even remember us. What can you tell me about your great, great grandfather, for instance?" I shook my head. "Yeah, so how-come, two or three thousand years after we're dead and within twelve hours of meeting us these guys can discover that you had five children? Not kosher George! Something very not kosher at all is going on around here!"

"Well everything's being put on computers in our time, Doug; record-keeping is so much better."

"George, three thousand years later..."

"You really think it's that long?" I interjected.

"And the bloody rest, George! Anyway, do you really think that they're still using the same computers after all this time? I doubt anyone here's even heard of sodding Microsoft and it's crappy operating systems. If you gave these buggers a bloody hard drive from our time, I'll bet they wouldn't be able to read it. No, you're something special and all this is about you in some way, I'm sure of it.

"I can't believe it, Douglas."

"And another thing, why in heavens name did Adona bring those four prats along with him this evening? He knows they upset us by chasing after the girls. And then these four birds tonight. I don't know about you, but the two in red are... Well, they're definitely making me feel like a younger man..."

"Is that possible, Doug?"

"Sure is, George, those two have just proved it! But for some inexplicable reason, I keep suspecting that they are supposed to be doing exactly that. What's more, I'm beginning to think that our wives are expected to stray. I'd say whoever is running this show is counting on it!"

"But why, what's the point in bringing us through time, just to steal our wives?"

"I doubt the intention is to steal them George. Impregnate them, maybe!"

"What!" I blustered.

"Well, the guy let slip that you and your wife had at least five kids. But he didn't actually say, that you were the father of all of them. Hey, he didn't say that I was the father of all my kids, either! Hmm, I like this less and less, the more I try to figure out what game it is, they're playing."