Chapter 13The Trap of the White Sphinx

"Around eight or nine in the morning, I headed back to that same spot with the shiny metal where I’d looked out over the world the night I arrived. I thought about how quick I'd jumped to conclusions back then and couldn't help but laugh, kind of sadly, at how sure I’d been."

Everything was exactly the same - the beautiful scenery, the lush greenery, the amazing palaces and old ruins, the silver river flowing between its rich banks. People in fancy clothes were moving around through the trees.

Some were even swimming in the same spot where I’d saved Weena, and that hit me with a sudden pang of sadness. And then there were those domes rising up, leading to the Underworld. I finally understood what all the beauty of the Overworld people was hiding.

"Their days were nice, really nice, just like a cow’s in a field. Like cows, they didn’t know about enemies or worry about needs. And their ending was the same. "It made me sad to think about how short the dream of human intelligence had been. They’d basically ended themselves.

They’d focused on comfort and ease, building a stable society with security and permanence as their goals, and they’d achieved it. Once, life and property must have been incredibly safe. The rich were secure in their wealth and comfort, and the workers were guaranteed their jobs and lives.

I’m sure there were no unemployment problems, no social issues left unsolved. And then... quiet. "It's a natural law we often miss: that being adaptable is the price you pay for change, danger, and trouble. An animal perfectly suited to its surroundings is just a perfect machine."

Nature doesn't call on intelligence until instincts and habits don’t work anymore. There's no intelligence where there's no need to change. Only animals facing tons of different needs and dangers use intelligence.

"So, as I see it, the Overworld people had drifted towards a weak, pretty existence, and the Underworld to just plain mechanical work. But that perfect state was missing one thing, even for mechanical perfection - absolute permanence."

Apparently, over time, feeding the Underworld, however it was done, started falling apart. Mother Necessity, who’d been held off for a few thousand years, came back, starting from below.

Because the Underworld was connected to machinery, which even if perfect, still needs a little thinking outside the routine, they probably kept a bit more initiative - though less of every other human quality - than the Overworld.

And when other food ran out, they turned to what old habits had previously forbidden. That's what I saw in my last look at the world of Eight Hundred and Two Thousand Seven Hundred and One. It might be the worst explanation mortal minds could come up with.

But that's how it all shaped up to me, and that’s what I’m giving you. "After all the exhaustion, excitement, and terror of the past few days, and even though I was grieving, that spot, the peaceful view, and the warm sunlight felt really good."

"I was totally wiped and sleepy, and soon I stopped thinking and just dozed off. When I realized that, I took the hint and stretched out on the grass for a long, refreshing nap. "I woke up a little before sunset.

"I now felt safe from getting caught napping by the Morlocks, and, stretching, I started walking down the hill towards the White Sphinx. I had my crowbar in one hand, and the other hand played with the matches in my pocket. "And then something totally unexpected happened.

"As I got closer to the Sphinx’s base, I saw that the bronze valves were open. They’d slid down into grooves. "At that, I stopped short before them, hesitating to go in.

Inside was a small apartment, and in the corner, on a raised platform, was the Time Machine. I had the small levers in my pocket. So, after all my big plans to take down the White Sphinx, it was kind of a letdown. I tossed my iron bar away, almost regretting I didn’t get to use it.

A thought hit me as I leaned toward the portal. For once, I totally understood what the Morlocks were thinking. I had to fight the urge to laugh and stepped through the bronze frame and over to the Time Machine. I was surprised to see it had been carefully oiled and cleaned.

I figured the Morlocks had even taken it apart a bit, trying to figure out what it was. Now, as I stood there checking it out, feeling good just touching the thing, what I expected finally happened. The bronze panels suddenly slid up and slammed against the frame with a loud clang.

I was in the dark - trapped. That’s what the Morlocks probably thought. I chuckled to myself. I could already hear their giggling as they came closer. Really calmly, I tried to light a match. All I had to do was set the levers and then disappear like a ghost.

But I’d totally forgotten one little thing. The matches were those awful ones that only light on the box. You can imagine how all my chill just vanished. Those little guys were all over me. One touched me. I swung the levers at them in the dark and started climbing into the seat of the machine.

Then one hand grabbed me, then another. I just had to fight against their sticky fingers for the levers, and at the same time, feel around for the studs they fit on. They almost got one away from me.

As it slipped from my hand, I had to headbutt something in the dark - I could hear the Morlock's skull ring - to get it back. It was a closer call than the fight in the forest, I think, this last scramble. But finally, the lever was fixed and pulled over. The grabbing hands slipped away.

The darkness cleared from my eyes. I found myself in the same grey light and chaos I’d described before.