The Celestial Steam Locomotive (The Song of Earth) by Michael G. Coney Read Free Book Online

resulted in increased use of self-contained recreational centers. At the same time there was a growing demand for visual rather than physical entertainment, accelerated by the decreased oxygen content of Earth’s atmosphere as the oceans’ oxygen-producing creatures dwindled. The first Domes were built in the mid 56s, the later, solar-powered models in the late 57s.  
    During the Great Retreat and the subsequent Nine Thousand Years’ Ice Age, the Domes were probably responsible for the survival of the human race.  
    But then came the creeping onset of neoteny, the failure of the breeding programs and the vicarious consolation of Dream Earth, where the neotenites lived imaginary lives in a corner of the Rainbow.  
    “Can’t you do anything about it?” Lord Shout had asked.  
    “We’re trying, believe me,” said Zozula “We have a full-scale research program on another planet. The only trouble is that the neoteny factor, which is responsible for their appearance, can’t be eliminated. It seems to be a dominant gene present in all samples in our tissue bank—even in my own tissues, we’ve found. I’m lucky to be built the way I am. My own body is the last of its line. And like all the other Keepers in there, I’m dying slowly. We practice our Inner Think, of course. But we can’t live forever. And when we’ve gone—the present generation of Keepers, that is—there will be nobody else. No True Humans to take our place. I don’t know what we’ll do. I suppose we’ll have to recruit the neotenites, but they’re terribly weak and susceptible to disease.”  
    A lot of this had gone over Lord Shout’s head. “Why not let all those poor monsters die? What’s the point of it all? What’s so important about the Dome, and True Humans? It’s only you that call yourselves True Humans. Personally, I’m quite happy with my own body. At least I can withstand the climate without getting out of breath. Shouldn’t that be the measure of a True Human?” His shock and sorrow were turning slowly to outrage.  
    “We have a duty to those creatures in there. We’ve failed them often enough already. Now we must keep them alive until we can breed True Human hosts for their minds. There are ten thousand of them in there, all living their thinking lives in the Rainbow, waiting for us to find them bodies. Would you want to be responsible for wiping out all those minds?”  
     
    Lord Shout was becoming furious.  
    “God damn you,” he said. “If there is a God—and I still believe there is, in spite of what I’ve just seen—may he twist your body into a monster and feed your brains into a computer.” He spoke very formally, as though uttering a sacred curse.  
    Zozula couldn’t remember his own reply. Whatever it was, it had been inadequate and hadn’t satisfied Lord Shout or himself. As if offering some kind of excuse, he’d taken Lord Shout into the Dome and shown him Dream Earth, the imaginary world where the neotenites exercised their minds in environments of their own invention, among phantom forests and meadows, cities and seas. Lord Shout had remained unconvinced.  
    Zozula had been very thoughtful for many months after that meeting, and the other Keepers, or Cuidadors, had noticed and commented, but he’d kept his own counsel. He was the head Cuidador, hardly an appropriate person to start voicing doubts about their mission in life.  
    And now, twenty years later, here was Lord Shout again...  
     
    But changed. The pride was there and he tried to meet Zozula’s gaze levelly, but his eyes were haunted.  
    “It’s been a long time, Zozula,” he said quietly.  
    “Time to think. Time to come to terms.”  
    “For me or for you?”  
    “I’ve never forgotten what you said. And I’ve never been able to decide whether you were right or wrong.”  
    And Lord Shout said, “I was wrong.”  
    Zozula stared at him. “How can you say that? You believed what you said. Any Wild Human