Stevens stands at the forefront of human creation; their machine filling the entire 2.2 million square foot building. There are only two people in the building, but all of humanity holds its breath, eyes on the complex. Stevens steps onto the metallic platform. Stevens disappears.
New Era: 0 Years, 0 Months, 0 Days, 0 Hours
“It worked.” The whispered words, barely audible, echo into the empty void. He tries to open his eyes, but realizes they are already open. He simply cannot see anything around him. Prepared, he removes a flashlight from his pocket. He turns it on, to no success. Nothing but darkness.
He takes two steps forward. He is standing on damp cobblestone, and there is water far beneath him — Stevens is not sure how he knows this, but he does.
Suddenly, with no noise, his partner, Kant, pops into existence behind him, directly where he was standing a moment ago.
“It worked!” exclaims Kant, eliciting a smile from Stevens.
“Well…”, corrects Stevens, “…it half worked. We definitely aren’t on Earth anymore, but who’s to say we ended up where we wanted to? Maybe this dimension won’t suspend time, maybe it will speed it up.”
“Technicalities, technicalities…” murmurs Kant, before exploding with excitement. “Who gives a shit about time right now? Our research paid off! Thousands of years of science led to this very moment; our forefathers are smiling down on us from above! We are the first people to ascend to a new reality!”
“Kant, please, we still must be cautious. This isn’t about fame, hell, it's barely about science. This is about the preservation of human life. This is about immortality.”
They silently take in their surroundings.
“Stevens, are we blind?” Kant poses.
“I think we must be blind to everything in this realm. It seems that the objects here don’t quite work the same way as they do back on Earth. I can feel every molecule calling its name out to me simultaneously.” He reaches down and picks up a stone, invisible to both of them. “Tell me Kant, what am I holding?”
“Well, it’s a stone,” Kant replies.
“And how did you know that without seeing it?”
He focuses on Stevens’ hand for a second longer. “Ah. I see what you mean. It really is calling out to me.” He reaches down and picks up his own handful of rocks, smiling. “We can work with this.”
“There’s something about your voice, too. It seems that sound doesn’t work the same here either. I can almost hear what you’ve said before you’ve finished saying it. But I’m not sure it matters. Sound, sight, it's all trivial. How’s your cancer?”
Kant concentrates for a few moments. “It’s hard to tell. I feel fantastic, and I’m obviously not bedridden anymore, but it’s not like we brought an MRI machine with us. This morning, the doctors told me I only had a few days to live. I suppose you’re right after all; only time will tell.”
New Era: 0 Years, 0 Months, 28 Days, 7 Hours
“Do you think they will ever send others?” Kant asks.
“They must. When a person is out of time on Earth, they will come. Ancient explorers searched for the fountain of youth, and we have found it. We are the only option. We are the future.”
New Era: 713 Years, 8 Months, 12 Days, 7 Hours
“Jekyll! Get your ass in here.” Kant calls.
Jekyll scampers into the room and runs to his boss. They stand over the dark metropolis, Jericho, in the penthouse suite of Stevens Palace. They both have their eyes closed, they have long grown accustomed to the nothingness of their every surrounding. Jekyll has one arm, balding hair, and is extremely malnourished. He is 324 years old.
“Why haven’t we received anyone new today?” asks Kant.
“I’m not sure, sir.”
Kant sighs. “Well, have you talked to the people that arrived yesterday?”
“Of course, sir, but they didn’t have any new information about Earth. No signs of revolution, no upcoming economic collapse, no ongoing wars, no anti-tech movement, no new discoveries concerning the afterlife. There is no reason for receivals to stop.”
Kant pauses to think. “It’s possible that the complex finally broke down — from what I hear, the engineers on Earth nowadays can barely tie their own shoes.”
Jekyll considers this fact. “Sir… if it’s down… maybe it’s for the best?…”. He continues tentatively. “You know… with the food shortages and the…”, his voice quickly shrinking, “... increasing mortality rate here.”
Kant turns bright red in the darkness as his rage fills the room. “MORTALITY RATE!?!? I still don’t understand WHY IN HELL anyone is calculating a goddamn mortality rate. WE ARE IMMORTAL. We are immune to aging. We are immune to disease. We are immune to natural death. Food shortages? You know why that isn’t a problem? WE HAVE MADE IT IMPOSSIBLE TO STARVE TO DEATH. WE HAVE MADE IT IMPOSSIBLE TO DIE.” He turns to Jekyll. “Do you understand who you are talking to?”
Jekyll has shriveled into the corner of the room. “Yes sir. You are Kant, Father of Jericho.”
“Then you understand why you don’t have a place to question me.”
“I’m sorry sir.” Jekyll sinks further into the corner. But Jekyll is hungry. He cannot remember the last time he has eaten. In a barely audible whisper, he speaks his mind. “Why did you build a heaven where people go hungry?”
Kant’s face twists in rage. He stalks over to Jekyll, fist raised. Then he pauses. Then he sighs. Then he collapses.
Then he speaks, echoing Jekyll’s whisper. “That’s right, we failed. I built this place from the ground up. Stevens and I designed this paradise, we gave the gift of immortality to the people of Earth. We wanted this place to be perfect.”
Jekyll is afraid to talk. But he hungers, and he needs to know. “Sir… why the suffering?”
“I was a dying man, Jekyll. I only had days to live. We thought this place would make us immortal, and we were right. But we didn’t know what else we were going to find here. We didn’t know so much of the soil would lack nutrients. We didn’t know so many people would arrive here. We didn’t know how quickly the crops would die. We didn’t know people…” He sighs, sinking deeper into the floor. He breaks, then hardens, then breaks again. “We didn’t know people would kill each other over food.” Their closed eyes meet. “We didn’t know, Jekyll, we didn’t know.”
Jekyll slowly lowers himself onto the floor next to Kant. He places his head between his knees and speaks to the ground. “Kant, sir… what happened to Stevens?”
Kant bristles, shaken by the question. He remains silent for what seems like an eternity before quietly responding. “The last words he ever spoke were to me, a quote from an ancient philosopher. ‘It's not years nor days, but the mind, that determines when we've lived enough.’ And then he jumped.”
Kant cries. So does Jekyll.
Far below, the population of Jericho lowers by one. It will never increase again.
New Era: ???????? Years, ?? Months, ?? Days, ?? Hours
He sits on top of the world. He flies to the moon; he swims across the sea; he tunnels down past the depth of life. There, beneath the cobblestone, beneath the water, is a single green door. It is ancient, and he is alone.
“Where do we think it leads, Kant?”
He breathes in the world. The door fills his lungs. He is ancient, and it is alone.
“Nobody knows, Seneca.”
“Well Kant, do you think we should open it and find out?”
“I’m not sure. I remember opening a door long ago.”
“Where did it lead?”
He stands in silence.
“I don’t remember the details, Seneca. I think it led somewhere above here.”
“Kant, where are we from?”
There is no response.
“Kant, what is above us?”
“The endless sky.”
“We must be outside, then.”
“No, Seneca. I am in a cavern at the center of the universe.”
“Then the sky is not above us.”
“Look up, Seneca, and you will see the sky.”
There is no response.
“Seneca, should I open this door?”
“I don’t know, Kant, should we?. What happened with your last door?”
“The last door was different, Seneca. Last time, I was not alone. Last time, I had hope.”
“And what do you have now, Kant?”
“I have nothing but the endless sky.”
“The sky is fading here, Kant.”
“Then I’ll open the door. Maybe it will lead to more sky.”
He approaches the door.
“Seneca, do you think anyone has opened this door before?”
“We weren’t always alone here, Kant. Where did you think everyone else went?”
“Seneca, do you remember a man named Stevens?”
“Of course I do.”
“Did he go through this door?”
“Everyone went through this door, Kant. Everyone but us.”
“Seneca. Answer me honestly. What do you think is behind this door?”
“Nothing. Not even the sky.”
“How horrible! Then I must not open this door!”
Kant opens the door. He steps inside.