#15 - Person from Porlock

“Do you have any stories to tell me?” Ally said.

Isaac squinted, thinking. He kept his eyes on the road. “Why don’t you tell one?” He said.

“There was one I thought of before we stopped last time, but now I can’t remember what it was.” She said. 

“If you tell one first, maybe I’ll remember mine.”

Earlier they had tried listening to the radio, but after landing on three country music stations in a row, Ally had given up and switched it off.

“Let’s see.” Isaac said. He started tapping unconsciously on the steering wheel, humming quietly to himself. He laughed. “I know a story about forgetting a story.”

“A story about forgetting a story…” Ally repeated. “Okay.”

“I heard this from my friend Eric. You might have…let’s see… did you ever meet him? Probably not.”

Ally shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

Isaac said, “So, Eric’s family is from Louisiana, where they owned a tire shop. His grandpa was a mechanic. One day, a traveler comes through and needs a tire repaired, so he stops in. While the tire is being fixed by one of the shop employees, Eric’s grandpa and the traveler start talking, shooting-the-shit, telling jokes or whatever. Well, I guess this traveler was a really good story-teller, and one of the stories he told was just fantastic. Super interesting. As soon as Eric’s grandpa heard it, he thought, ‘I’ve got to tell my wife’, which he planned to do when he got home that day.”

Ally was sitting Indian-style in the passenger seat, her feet tucked beneath her. “What was it?” 

“The story?” Isaac said. “Nobody knows. The traveler went on his way after the tire was fixed. When Eric’s grandpa got home that night, he was planning on telling his wife, but he got distracted because there was a salesman at the house. Some guy selling vacuum cleaners.”

“Was it the same guy?” Ally asked.

“No, no. This isn’t like one of those stories. There aren’t any odd coincidences or anything. It’s just that Eric’s grandpa forgot to tell the story when he got home, and he didn’t think about it again until later that night. They went to sleep like usual, but sometime – like two or three in the morning – he woke up and remembered that he had wanted to tell his wife the traveler’s story. But the crazy thing was, he couldn’t remember it.” Isaac said.

“What happened?” Ally said.

“Nothing, really. He figured he’d remember the next morning, but he never did. Eric said that his grandpa never remembered what the traveler’s story was, but he always remembered that he’d forgotten the traveler’s story. Instead of telling the traveler’s story, he told people the story of how he forgot the traveler’s story. If that makes sense?”

Ally rubbed her nose and then crossed her arms. “Wait. So, he didn’t remember the original story the traveler told, but after that, he told people the story of how he’d forgotten the original story?”

“Yeah. That’s what I just said.”

“Just clarifying.”

“So, that’s my story.” Isaac said. “Your turn.”

“Your story’s lame.” Ally said.

“Oh, you wanted to hear a good story?” He joked.

“I expected something better than that.” She said.

“Let’s hear what you’ve got. Do you remember what you were going to tell me before we stopped for gas?” Isaac asked.

Ally sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. After a silent pause, she said, “Nope.”

“What? You still don’t remember?”

“No – it must not have been very interesting. I guess I’m no better than your friend’s grandpa. The ol’ memory’s failin’ me.” She said in an exaggerated southern accent. Isaac laughed.

For a few minutes neither of them said anything. Isaac was about to try the radio again when Ally said, “What about us? What do you think our best story is?”

“You mean like, what’s the best thing that’s happened to us together?”

“Right. If you were going to tell a story about you and me, which one would you tell?” Ally said, twisting in her seat to look at Isaac’s profile.

“You and me. You and me. That’s a hard one.” Isaac said, glancing into the rearview mirror. He looked back at the road. “Maybe I’d tell the story of the time we walked around Coleridge Lake together and I was about to kiss you, but then that guy popped out of nowhere and scared the crap out of us. Remember that? We were sitting on the bench?”

Ally was laughing. “Yep, that was horrifying. Where’d he come from? I was nervous enough as it was.”

“Why were you nervous?” Isaac said.

“Just… I had this feeling you were going to try to kiss me.” She said, rolling her eyes.

Isaac said, “And I would have if that weirdo hadn’t stumbled out of the forest. He delayed our first kiss by – what, about a week?”

“Something like that.”

“What about you?” Isaac asked, making eye contact with her. “What story would you tell about us?”

She scrunched-up her face, as if thinking very hard. “I like this one.” She said.

“Which one?”

“Right now. This would make a good story, right?” Ally said.

“Driving along like this? Just us talking?”

“Yeah.” She said. “Of course, I might have to spice it up a bit. Maybe I could say we got a flat tire and had to stop and have it repaired. I could tell our story to the mechanic and maybe he’d remember it long enough to tell his wife. And maybe she’d tell it to a friend who’d tell it to another friend, and pretty soon some guy would be on a road trip with his girlfriend and he’d tell it to her.”

“I don’t know…” Isaac said, smiling. “Sounds kinda lame.”

“Shut up.” Ally said, holding up a fist as if she might hit him. She laughed. “I didn’t say it was a good story. It’s just our story.” 

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To learn more about the Person from Porlock, read the original Wikipedia article HERE. 

#16 - Eternal Flame

Presently, if you wish to visit the subterranean ruins of the very first Deep Earth Settlement, you need only purchase an advance ticket and travel to the tourist center located twenty kilometers west of Branson, Missouri. There you will register, join a group of ten to fifteen fellow visitors, and be assigned a professional tour guide who will lead you on your exploration through the entertaining, informative, and fully climate-controlled Deep Earth Settlement museum.

Shortly after reemergence, Deep Earth, Inc. (including all fifteen of its North American Settlements) was purchased by the XinHai Corporation and, for decades, remained closed to the public. However, when the settlement property in Missouri was reclaimed by the local government in June of 2119, our leaders quickly began refurbishing it with hopes of one day reopening and welcoming a new generation of Deep Earth inhabitants. Though this dream is still in process, the museum offers visitors a trustworthy look at the first Deep Earth Settlement’s past, as well as a glimpse into the future of fun, affordable, and safe subsurface living.

Upon entering the museum, your first stop will be registration. Here you will experience an authentic recreation of the registration process undergone by Deep Earth’s first settlers. Though history tells us that the original settlers were held to very high standards of health, hygiene, and intelligence, there are no such standards for visitors to the museum. All are welcome!

After registration, all visitors are guided to Truth Hall, where an accurate account of the circumstances necessitating the first Deep Earth Settlement is presented through a series of engaging and interactive exhibits, including Weather Wasteland, Money Market, and a visitor favorite, The War Room. Each exhibit offers a hands-on learning experience. An average visitor might find himself watching historically-standardized hurricane footage, bartering for commodities in a market game, or sitting behind an incredibly life-like nuclear launch control panel.

Truth Hall was designed to educate the present generation on the myriad factors that sent our ancestors below ground into subsurface communities like the Deep Earth Settlement in Missouri. Over the years, misinformation has corrupted society’s understanding of the past. But in Truth Hall, history comes undeniably alive. Visitors leave with a new sense of the tragedies and triumphs experienced by Deep Earth’s forefathers. The goal of the Deep Earth Settlement Museum’s staff is that every visitor will leave the tour with their questions answered and a new appreciation for the human determination and ingenuity required to settle Deep Earth and allow for the continuation of our great nation.

Upon leaving Truth Hall, visitors will be guided to the Deep Earth Construction exhibit, where they will become acquainted with multiple aspects of the design and construction of the Deep Earth Settlement. Years before the first inhabitants arrived at Deep Earth, an army of engineers and laborers worked tirelessly to create what would later be called an “underground city”. Many of these laborers lost their lives during the construction phase of Deep Earth, and the Deep Earth Construction exhibit is dedicated to their memory and continued legacy.

Next on the tour is an exhibit titled The Gathering, a remembrance of the families and individuals who stepped forward to participate in the “great experiment” that was the Deep Earth Settlement program. Culled from the highest achievers in a variety of fields, the Deep Earth settlers were scientists, teachers, doctors, engineers, athletes, executives, and high ranking military leaders. With willing hearts, they descended into Deep Earth, hoping to preserve the greatness of our culture and society. They left behind family and friends on the surface, but never doubted their own purpose in sustaining humanity in the face of enormous challenges. The Gathering exhibit was established to honor these heroes, and to help future generations recognize that survival was the least of their vast achievements.

The Transition Room encourages visitors to imagine the difficulties settlers endured once they arrived at Deep Earth. Life below the surface was much different than life above, and there were many hurdles to overcome. Visitors are invited to watch a short film in which actors recreate poignant scenes from this transitional phase at the Deep Earth Settlement. Artificial light acclamation, dietary supplementation, and Economic Equality Enforcement policies (EEE), were necessary and positive adjustments experienced by the first settlers. These adjustments are entertainingly highlighted in the Transition Room.

For visitors wanting a real taste of the past, the Deep Earth Settlement Museum offers a sampling of dietary supplements and drinks similar to those consumed by the Deep Earth settlers. Samples are available for purchase at the Deep Earth Eatery located in the Transition Room.

After partaking in a “Settler Snack”, visitors make their way through an exhibit hall titled Life in Deep Earth. This portion of the museum tour is the most interactive, with several hands-on learning activities offered. Two favorites are the Temple of Light, where visitors are encouraged to spend a moment of quiet reflection, and Private Pleasures, an exhibit open to all visitors ages eighteen and older.

If a visitor is curious about the Tyndale Terrorist Attack (sometimes mistakenly referred to as the Tyndale Failed Revolution in illegal publications), pamphlets are available upon exiting the Life in Deep Earth exhibit hall.

The last two major exhibits guests will visit are the Reemergence Room and the Future Room. The Reemergence Room offers the most reliable and up-to-date information regarding humanity’s return to surface living. This exhibit is consistently being updated to reflect the most accurate findings and opinions of modern historians regarding the events leading to the Deep Earth Settlement’s success.

Finally, the Future Room presents guests with an opportunity to peek into the visionary minds of our contemporary leaders. Though subsurface living is no longer a necessity, there are still big things in store for Deep Earth. In the Future Room, visitors will learn how technologies first developed for use in the Deep Earth Settlement have benefitted humanity post-reemergence, and how new technological breakthroughs may impact life on earth in the decades to come. 

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If you would like to learn more about Eternal Flames, read the original Wikipedia article HERE. 

#20 - Stanislav Petrov

Whenever Mr. Burger had the occasion to tell the story of The Two Islands at War, he always began by explaining how he had first overheard the tale, whispered, presumably as a bedtime story, by an unseen female passenger from behind the drawn curtain of a bunk in the sleeper cabin on an overnight train from Bangkok to one of Thailand’s unpronounceable northern mountain villages, just south of the Burmese border. The unseen whisperer had spoken in the measured tone used to lull children to sleep, and Mr. Burger had imagined a child, eyelids heavy, head resting on a small pillow provided by the cabin’s steward, listening intently as the train swayed and chugged. He, too, had listened; straining to hear from behind the curtain of his own bunk.

“Why were you in Thailand?” People sometimes asked, interrupting Mr. Burger just before he launched into his retelling of The Two Islands at War.

“It was an unplanned trip; spur-of-the-moment sort of thing.” Mr. Burger would answer.

“And the person telling the story, they were speaking English?” Someone else might ask.

“Yes, of course. Thailand is crawling with western tourists, you know.” Mr. Burger would respond. Then he would pause briefly before asking, “Are you certain you aren’t familiar with the story?”

Never once had anyone answered yes, and so, Mr. Burger would begin his telling.

“Once upon a time, there were two islands at war. These were two very small islands, and though they were aware of one another - each could be seen from the shore of the other - neither had knowledge of the outside world. For the story’s sake, we’ll refer to them as the East Island and the West Island.”

“The islands didn’t have names?” A listener would ask.

“Of course they did, but the names have been lost to history, along with the language in which the names were spoken. Besides, what does it matter?” Mr. Burger would say.

“The inhabitants of the islands only knew war. Though, no one living could remember the last time they had engaged in battle. History, as it always does, had mingled with myth, and their myths were fabricated from scraps of forgotten history. Stories of great battles were passed down from generation to generation; elders having heard the tales from their elders, and so on. But none of the inhabitants on either island had ever experienced violent conflict. Their war was cold; downright frigid. The standoff had lasted generations, centuries, possibly millennia. And during that time they had gone without any direct contact with their enemy.”

At this point, a listener would often ask, “There was no trade between the islands? No intermarrying? No shared festivals or religion?”

“No contact of any kind.” Mr. Burger would say. “They lived in absolute fear of one another. Even their fishing boats observed strict lines of demarcation in order to avoid encountering boats from the opposing island.”

“So, the conflict wasn’t rooted in a struggle over resources. They each had their own fishing waters.” A listener would observe.

“Correct. The East Islanders fished the waters to the east, and the West Islanders fished the waters to the west. As far as the inhabitants were concerned, each island owned half of all creation. Why would they need all of creation? They were sensible in that regard, at least.”

Mr. Burger would often smile politely at some point in the telling and remind the listeners that many of the questions they might have regarding The Two Islands at War could not be answered. Upon first overhearing the story, he also had questions, but had missed his opportunity. When he woke on the train the following morning, the bunk opposite his was empty. Somewhere in the night, the whisperer had disembarked. “You see,” He would say, “The only knowledge I hold regarding the two islands is what was communicated in the story. That knowledge, you will soon possess yourself.”  

“As you might imagine, having an enemy so close, even one that hadn’t attacked for a very long time, kept both islands on high alert. As a measure of defense, they kept watch around the clock, each posting sentries along the entire perimeter of their respective islands.

“One night, a young man from the East Island was keeping watch. It was a cloudless night, and the moon and stars were bright in both the sky and upon the surface of the water. This young man found a comfortable place to recline along the shore, and for a short time, watched the waves roll in. Before long, he fell asleep at his post. A few hours passed, and when he finally woke, he was horrified to find an unfamiliar boat approaching the shore near where he had slept.

“The young East Islander was frozen in fear. He knew at once that the approaching vessel was from the West Island. Never before had he been so close to the enemy. For a moment, all he could do was stare in wondrous terror. In the relatively bright moonlight, he was able to see the boat quite well, and gradually, he came to realize that the boat was unmanned. It appeared empty, and there were no oars in the water. It was indeed heading ashore, but in a meandering, unguided manner.”

“Perhaps it was a sort of Trojan Horse?” A listener might interject at this point in the story. Mr. Burger would smile politely and resume.

“When the boat finally drifted ashore, the East Islander approached very cautiously, his spear held high, ready to attack or defend. At his hip, he wore a large conch, tethered to his waist with a rope fashioned from wild grass. He knew he should have blown the conch the moment he saw the boat, alerting the other sentries nearby. For some reason, he chose not to. He investigated the boat alone.”

Mr. Burger would pause, as if the story had ended. He would wait for the listener(s) to fidget uncomfortably before he continued.

“And what do you think he found? An empty boat? No. In the bottom of the boat slept a young man not older than himself. A West Islander, snoring softly in the moonlight on a pile of fishing nets. The West Islander had also fallen asleep on that peaceful evening, and unbeknownst to him, his boat had drifted into East Island waters, and had come to rest on East Island shores.

“As the East Islander watched the West Islander sleep, he wrestled with what to do next. He could kill the young man while he slept, of course. That would be easy enough. Or, he could take the man captive, holding him at spear-point until help arrived. One blow on the conch would bring a swarm of sentries, as well as civilians from the row of huts lining the beachfront. For a long time, he watched the West Islander sleep, and then finally decided on a third option.

“It’s true the East Islander was very frightened by this close encounter with his West Island enemy. But a more powerful impulse controlled his actions in that moment. He was curious. He had never met anyone so foreign, so exotic. Every person he knew had been born and raised on East Island. Though his heart was pounding, and he could barely grip the spear in his hand, he chose not to kill the West Islander, but instead to wake him; to speak to him. He poked the sleeping man with the dull end of his spear.”

“What did he say?” A listener might ask.

“First, he said, ‘Wake up!’ And then he asked ‘Why did you come to our island?’ Of course, the West Islander was speechless for a moment. His mind was still clouded by sleep. Once he realized where he was, he was filled with dread, believing he would be killed. Shaking with fright, he told the truth. ‘I was out fishing. I fell asleep. My boat must have drifted here to your island.’”

“They spoke the same language?”

“I was not there to witness the conversation. I assume so.”

“And did the East Islander believe the young man’s story?”

“Would you have believed his story?” Mr. Burger would ask his audience. “If you suddenly encountered an enemy you had been taught to fear? Would you have believed that he was simply a sleeping fisherman, rather than a spy? Or a scout? Or the first member of an invading army?

“That’s the incredible turn in this story. The East Islander, though he had every reason to distrust the West Islander, chose to believe. Despite his training, his instincts, the myths he had heard, and the fear that he felt, he accepted the man’s word, and allowed him to return to his home on the West Island.

“For days, weeks, years following, the East Islander kept the encounter a secret. He knew that if the leaders of East Island knew he had allowed the West Islander to go free, he would be severely punished, possibly even put to death.”

Here, a listener would ask, “So, no one ever found out?”

“Of course they did. If not, how could I tell you the story today? Eventually, the young man shared his experience; but not until he had become a very old man, and the most respected leader on East Island. At that time, only a few years before his own death, he was able to lead the two islands in forming a treaty. The treaty led to peace and cooperation between the two islands. Eventually, the long war was remembered only in a new set of myths, shared between the inhabitants of both islands.”

When Mr. Burger had finished telling The Two Islands at War, he would laugh happily, and say, “Interesting, isn’t it?”

And then one listener would venture to ask, “But do you really think it’s true? Do you think all that really happened?”

To which Mr. Burger loved to reply, “I believe it’s true, and that it happens every day.” 

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To learn about the real Stanislav Petrov, read the original Wikipedia article HERE.