Chapter (4) A Different point Of View.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been there, hell he wasn't even sure where 'there' was. He'd been sober for longer in the last few hours than he could remember, his head was spinning from all the stuff he'd been hearing and he needed a drink real bad. Suddenly several thoughts flashed into his head. What about Maggie? He'd forgotten about Maggie. What would she be thinking when she didn't find him in the office? What if she called the cops? Hell his life was so messed up.

This dame Camille, she sure talked a lot. He still didn't know what she wanted with him. That last thing she said about not being on Earth had him sitting up and paying attention though.

Trent looked at the porcelain cold, face sitting opposite him. He couldn't help wondering what the rest of her looked like under that suit. What was he thinking she's not even real. Trent hadn't exactly been a saint and he had, on occasions, enjoyed the company of a woman for a night or two. It struck him that this one definitely ticked all the right boxes. Even the way she was dressed when she'd first visited his office had fitted his idea of an ideal woman, apart from the obvious drawback, her not being real an all. If He hadn't been too occupied with trying to understand the situation he was in, he might have realised that Camille had been specifically designed to make her attractive to him. Trent was having some crazy thoughts about this dame.

“Look, Camille, nice name by the way, did you choose it?” He didn't wait for an answer. This dame had been doing all the talking so now it was his turn. “You've told me all this stuff about this place but I got some questions and I want you to give me some straight answers, OK?” Camille wiggled on the chair, sat upright again, placed her hands onto her lap and nodded. Trent stood up and moved a few paces to her right. “Firstly let's say I believe everything you've told me, and I'm not saying that I do yet. Let's say somehow we've travelled to a new world and a different time.... WHY?” She made a move to speak. He didn't give her time. Well let's face it apparently she could have all the TIME she wanted. “If you have all this magical technology, and an ideal world, why would you come and get ME?”  Camille made as if to answer but he cut her short with a stare and a raised finger. Trent wagged the finger several times in her direction while he constructed the next question. Camille understood he gestures and said nothing. “What is it that I have that you don't? You say you can't hurt me but you need my mind.”  Camille had her lovely head turned towards him. She smiled. Trent pondered.

“Mr Trent...Carlton....?” The dolls' voice was softer, more intimate this time, somehow less, mechanical. “You see Carlton what you do not appreciate is, that you are a very important person, both in your time and in ours. It is true that some of things I've been telling you have been little ambiguous but I have not told you an untruth.”  He was sure he could see sincerity in her face. Moving back to the table Trent sat down again. “Carlton we ARE many centuries into the future, and it is your Earth's future.” It was now her turn to stand up, she moved around to his side of the table and gently took his arm. Trent stood up and she led him to the far wall of the room. She pressed her free hand onto a small, barely visible, panel and as the lights in the room dimmed a large shutter slide silently upwards to reveal a window. Trent removed his dark glasses and gazed through it. A black backcloth studded with a trillion million tiny bright lights filled his vision, and in the centre was a large light blue ball speckled with white wisps.

“Oh my lord what in the world is that?” He said, clearly amazed by what he was seeing.

“That, Carlton, is YOUR world. That is your Earth.” She released his arm and Trent pressed his face against the window.

“You mean to say that we are so high up we can see it all. But how?” He turned back to face her for a second.

She had a broad smile on her face, she could see the bewildered wonderment in Trents expression.

“We are on Earth station five. This place is a kind of ship, but this ship isn't floating on water it is floating in space. Up here people and androids live and work together.” Trent was fascinated by the wonderful view before him and answered without looking at her.

“You mean a Buck Rogers type rocket ship?” As a boy in the 'Hook' Trent had come across an old copy of a book by the French writer Jules Verne, called Voyage, Journey to the Moon. He'd read it and re read it several times. He had been enthralled by the idea that one day men might actually be able to go to the moon. When he'd seen a copy of a new comic book about Buck Rodgers, on the news stand at the end of the block, he'd bought a copy. It had been something new and he'd enjoyed the pictures as much as the simple text. Camille stood for a second as she scanned her memory banks. To Trent it appeared as though she were thinking, which in a way she was.

“Ahrr yes, Buck Rodgers, Space Pilot, no, not exactly Mr Trent, but something similar. We are in a kind of small town circling around the earth in an orbit approximately 1500 miles above the surface. Those green and brown shapes you can see are the landmasses. The deep blue is the oceans.” He was back staring out of the window again. Trent didn't know what to think but the beauty of it all wasn't totally lost on him.

Camille continued with her explanation of what he was seeing. “Those small white areas you can see at the top and bottom is what remains of the Polar ice caps and in just a few moments we will be directly over what you would know as the U.S.A.”

Trent was glued to the window. This was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen. He was starting to make out the various shapes of countries he remembered from the old atlas he'd had at home when he was a kid. Some of them seemed different to how he remembered them. The big blue ball seemed to be turning slowly in front of him. Trent recognised the Chinese and Russian regions, and that, that was Europe, and there's France, he'd seen that shape many times on the wine bottles he used to help move around the docks. That had to be Spain and there was Africa. He turned to Camille.

“You tellin' me all this is real?” The smile on her face grew even wider as she nodded in reply. “They all look different somehow; shouldn't the Brits be down there somewhere next to France?” Trent pointed at a group of small islands where he figured Britain should be. Camille then spoke softly.

“It still is, that is all that is left of it today.”

“My god. What happened, was it all destroyed in those wars you told me about?” Trent turned to Camille waiting for an explanation. Camille gave him a brief history lesson.

“Back in the late 22nd century, about 150 years from your time, a great deal of the Northern and Southern ice caps melted. They had started to melt many decades earlier but nothing was done about it. As they melted faster and faster they poured billions of tons of cold fresh water into the seas. This caused  ocean currents across the globe to change course and that in turned altered weather patterns across the whole world. As the sea levels began to rise they began to move inland cover coastal areas and islands. Eventually the sea levels rose by almost three metres across the planet. Many thousands of smaller islands vanished completely beneath the water. A great deal of low-lying land along coasts became flooded as the water slowly advanced inland. When the sea filled the valleys it left the higher ground as a new set of Islands. What you see there now called The New British Islands.”

“What do you mean they melted, how can that much ice just melt? What was it, what happened?”

“You recall some of the thick smog you experienced over the last few years in New York? Well as you may know these were, are, caused by pollution, dirty air if you like, from all the industries and factories.” He did remember it. The fog had a yellowish colour and smelled of soot. He knew many people who became real sick at that time. Some even died. “It was unfortunate for the Earth that this period of industrial history was directly responsible for my, that is our, the Android existence.” The dame stood by his side and stared out of the window as she spoke.

" What happened, How?”

“You see during the 20th and 21st centuries the earth went through a rapid technological revolution. The Second World War gave rise to the new Space age and once space flight had been accomplished the world raced uncontrolled and headlong into the future. Trent took a step back and breathed deeply.

“Hang on. What do you mean SECOND world war?” Her words had shocked him, they'd already had the War to end all wars, they'd said so, it was in all the newspapers. Now she was telling him about another war. “And this Second World war, is that the one that destroys the world?”

“No. No. That particular war is much much later in earths' history.

 No, the Second World War had a devastating effect across the world but it didn't destroy it completely. That war will begin for you in just a few years, but you will not be involved Carlton.” He needed to know more.

“My father died in the war, why won't the next one involve me?”

" Please do not ask me anymore about it Mr Trent. It won't help you to know too much about what the future holds for you. Believe me that you will live a long, long life Mr Trent.” Trent wasn't looking out of the window anymore he was listening with interest. The doll looked out at the blue ball as she spoke, she paused and seemed to sigh before returning to her history lesson. “Unfortunately all the technology and advancements along the way took a huge toll, your planet was ravaged and suffered terribly.”

“I'm listening, tell me the rest.”

“I've already mentioned that there were many more conflicts across the world for a century as countries struggled to control industry and take power under the guise of religion. By the end of the 21st century the pollution had altered the atmosphere to the extent that it could no longer protect the planet from the suns radiation.” She was using a lot of big words but Trent followed her avidly. He was feeling a little sick knowing that the world he lived in was being destroyed, had been destroyed. Her hands moved about as she explained things and it made her a whole lot more human. “You see the pollution was so great that the temperature of the planet became unstable, it was called 'The Greenhouse Effect'.” Trent was sure he detected a hint of sadness in her voice.

“But if they knew what it was why didn't they do something to stop it?”

“A good question Mr Trent. Oh, a few of the large industrial nations made a small effort to reduce pollution but it was far too little and far too late to do any good.” Trent was looking at the blue ball again with a kind of sadness inside. It looked so...pretty.

“Ahrrr, there Mr. Trent,” She put a finger on the window pointing at the planet below them. “You can see the old United States of America below us now. You see how a great deal of the western coastline and eastern seaboard have been changed. What you knew as California and Florida have been almost completely buried by the water.”  She was right he hardly recognised his  own country. She touched the pad again and the lights returned and the window shutter slid down closing the view. Trent wanted to watch longer.

 Her voice changed back to being matter of fact again. “I do understand that you will be confused but I want you to trust me for a little while longer.” He was confused some but he felt more at ease with her, he wasn't frightened anymore. Somewhere at the back of his mind he thought, he hoped, this was still some kind of drink induced nightmare. That he was actually back in his old office lying drunk on the couch. Without a word the dame turned and suddenly took off again. Quickly replacing the protective glasses back over his eyes Trent followed her back out into the corridor. Boy she was quick. They walked for a few minutes. She didn't turn or speak. For the first time since he'd been there Trent saw another figure, another doll in a skin-tight suit. She came towards them and passed by without speaking or even noticing they were there. He couldn't help it, he turned to watch her move gracefully away.

“MR TRENT. !!!" The suddenness and loudness of Camille's voice had taken him by surprise.

“What? WHAT? , I just....” He didn't get a chance to finish.

“I KNOW what you 'just', Mr Trent.”  Camille strode off at an increased pace. Her rear end moving like a couple of turtles in a tight sack. Turning a corner she suddenly stopped.

“Mr Trent this will be your room while you are here.”  He noticed she no longer called him Carlton. The doll put her hand onto the wall and another invisible door slid open. Without waiting for him to react she went through the opening and disappeared.

“Hey, wait up.” He followed her inside. What he saw inside was so unexpected.

“Woo hooo... what the... How...did you do this?” He was shocked by the sight that he found inside.

“I hope this is to your liking Mr Trent. It has been based on your office to make you feel right at home.” He took off the spectacles and looked around the dim lit room. It looked just like his office. My god this was his office. The single yellow bulb hung down from a dirty ceiling. Papers and stuff was strewn across the floor and an empty bourbon bottle lay sideways on the table. That would have to be replaced with a full one he thought. The room smelled cleaner though. Trent picked up the bottle from the table and instinctively sniffed the open top, bourbon, he looked around.

“I would like you to relax and get something to eat and have a good sleep Mr. Trent. You are free to go anywhere, but may I suggest that you do not wander too far from here until you know your way around.

 If you need me there is a button by the door. Please do not use it unless it is important.” Trent had heard her but he was intrigued by the detail in this room.

“How did you do this babe, is it real?” Without answering she smiled, turned on her fine heels and left.

“Hey where you go...” The door slid silently back into place. No point, she'd gone. That dame sure could move quick.

Trent moved towards the couch and instinctively his hand grabbed the door handle on the grubby icebox. He opened it, he hadn't expected to see the same oven type machine that Camille had used in the corridor.

He needed a drink. He needed time to think, but he really needed a drink.

There was a sheet of written instructions glued to the inside of the icebox door, Trent read them out loud....

This automated dispenser has been programmed to accept your speech patterns.

It has been programmed to supply a large range of foods and other items. These have been selected to satisfy your needs from observations of your behaviour and eating habits.

You have been restricted to one bottle of bourbon only, for health reasons.

To actuate dispenser:

(1). Place your right hand flat onto rectangular pad. Keep your hand in place until transactions are completed.

(2). When the 3 lights show red the machine is ready to receive your request.

(3). Speak clearly and ask for the items you need.

(4). When the lights turn green you may open the small door and take your items.

(5). Always remember to close the door when the transactions are completed.

 

Ok. That seems pretty clear so let's see what happens.

He put his hand onto the pad.

“I want a bottle of Kentucky bourbon.” Nothing happened. Trent put his hand back on the pad and repeated the request.

“I want a bottle of Bourbon.” Again nothing. This is ridiculous; he'd followed the instructions so why doesn't it work?

Trent read them again. Blah blah blah “Red lights, blah, speak clearly blah food, blah...  wait a minute that last bit.

Let's try again.

“I NEED a bottle of Kentucky bourbon.” The machine made a few gentle noises and in a few seconds the lights turned green. When the noises stopped Trent opened the door and, my oh my there she was. The finest bottle of Kentucky bourbon he'd ever seen. Trent was feeling pleased with himself, wonder if there's a glass in the cupboard. Yup. Trent opened the bottle and raised it to his nose, he took a long slow sniff of the vapours and then he watched with anticipation as he poured a good measure of the bronze liquid into the glass. With the glass now resting on his bottom lip the aromatic scents wafted up and filled his nose again. With his eyes closed Trent took a first wonderful, slow, sip from the glass. The sweet pungent liquid rolled around his tongue and mouth with a warming and tingling sensation. He still had his eyes closed when the sweet voice of a woman made him jump as it filled the room.

“Station sunset in one earth hour.”

For a moment he'd forgotten where he was. Time to sit down and think this through. He poured another good shot into the glass, raised it up and looked through it at the yellowing light bulb. Trent slowly turned the glass examining the satisfying deep amber colour of the liquid and the little ripples of alcohol rising up the sides of the glass. The first mouthful had tasted like nectar, the second and third didn't disappoint either. Trent sank down onto the couch and as the liquid once again assaulted his pallet he looked at the glass.

“Hello old friend. Ahh good times.”