“It does. But the pressure from the ocean above should have been powerful enough to smash through that air plug. No, the Master Builders have used ancient technology, beyond our feeble minds to artificially increase the pressure down here, so that the seawater is prevented from penetrating and flooding in.”
Sam considered the hydro physics, but couldn’t justify any of it on scientific grounds and the laws of physics. He filed the thought in his memory banks under topics to discuss with a hydrologist. “Can you tell me more about the landscape?”
“What you see here is the most densely populated section of the biosphere. The land is highly fertile, providing all our daily needs without any need for cultivation or agriculture. Wild plants provide an abundance of edible berries, trees grow fruits and nuts, and wild animals are plentiful. It rains regularly, the sun shines bright, and life simply thrives. Most of the civilization lives within a hundred miles of where we’re standing.”
A cold gust of wind blew across them. “What about the wind?”
“You don’t have wind on the topside?”
“Sure we do. But we also have the entire surface of Earth, with four seasons, causing a constant change globally in terms of rising warm air and falling cold air, which creates wind. If this is indeed a domed biosphere, there shouldn’t be any wind at all.”
“I think you underestimate the size of this biosphere.” Jess made a superior smile, as though she was enjoying his ignorance. “There are four distinct seasons here on the 8th Continent. Unlike in the topside, these lands don’t rotate through any of them. Instead, here, in the most fertile area, we live in permanent spring. There is an equal amount of rain and sun, and as you can feel, the air is warm. More than ninety-five percent of the inhabitants live in this quadrant.”
“You call your land a quadrant?”
“Yeah.” Her voice was soft, intrigued. “What else should I call it?”
Sam gave that some thought. “I don’t know. I suppose I’m having difficulty grasping what this land looks like. I wish I had a map.”
Jess stopped. In the sandy shore of the river, she picked up a smooth river stone and drew a big circle. “This is the 8th Continent.”
Sam glanced at the circle. “Okay.”
She drew a vertical line and a horizontal line through the middle, spitting it into four separate quadrants. “Humans and most animals for that matter can live in the two northern quadrants. Fall in the northwest and spring in the northeast. For the most part, people choose to live here in the northeast.”
“And the two southern quadrants?”
“Animals do live there. Heck, even some humans have been, but it takes a lot more effort and struggle to survive. You have to remember the seasons don’t rotate down here, so summer is permanent and so is winter. In the south west, the land has hundreds of miles of scorching desert, a wasteland where almost nothing can survive, before ending in a land with a permanently active volcano — a place filled with lava lakes.”
Jess looked up at him, apparently waiting for some sort of challenge.
Sam merely waited in silent acceptance, before saying, “Go on. What about the winter quadrant?”
She sighed slowly. “The icy southeast quadrant is frozen all year round, with hundreds of miles of icy plains, before a high rising mountain.”
“Have you ever been outside this quadrant?”
“I’ve been to the northwest, but never to the south.”
“So then, how do you know what it’s like in the south?” Sam asked.
“Because I’ve seen detailed maps.”
“Really? Where?”
“The same place we’re headed.” She sighed heavily, as though she knew her next words were going to sound crazy. “At the center of the maze.”
Chapter Six
Sam stared at her, doubt fixed on his face. “You’re taking us to the center of a maze?”
“Yeah, I know what it sounds like, but it’s the truth,” Jess said.
She smiled and started walking down the trail again in silence.
“What sort of maze? Where is it?”
“It’s constructed from a combination of dense forest and obsidian. The maze is south of here… toward the center of the spring quadrant.”
Sam exchanged glances with Tom who looked relaxed, like he was really taking in the view of the crystal-clear river as it flowed casually to the south. Tom grinned. Sam could read his expression clearly — it said, you’re the one who wanted to go explore the 8th Continent.
Sam turned to Jess. “So why are you taking us to the maze?”
“Because that’s where the Gifted Ones are waiting for you.”
Sam squinted beneath the bright purple sunlight. “The Master Builders live at the center of a maze?”
“Yeah, there’s an open area, full of livestock and agriculture designed to support the Gifted Ones, and a big sandstone colonial house in which they live. It’s the only place inside the 8th Continent with dedicated agriculture. It’s a mini utopia. A place where one’s safety is assured. The maze prevents all predators from entering.”
“Why?”
“To serve the Master Builders who live there.”
The gradient of the trail increased in a downward direction, until Sam had to dedicate all of his attention to climbing rather than talking.
When he reached the leveled river again, he asked, “What humans live here?”
“There are three distinctly different groups of Homo sapiens that live down here. The Gifted Ones — those who you call the Master Builders. There aren’t many and they tend to come and go. To the ancient Homo sapiens, Gifted Ones are seen as Gods. The majority of the human inhabitants originate from Australia, having broken free from the southern continent more than fifty thousand years ago. There are roughly twenty thousand who live here.”
Sam asked, “What are they like?”
“I would consider them a hybrid species.”
“In what way?”
“They’re hybrid. They evolved along the same path as you and I, but haven’t had the same resources as those on the surface. More importantly, they’ve had everything they needed to fulfil their daily needs here, without much need for cultivation of the land for agriculture.”
“You mean, they haven’t evolved out of necessity?”
“Genetically they’re identical to you and I. The difference is, roughly ten thousand years ago, when our ancestors were starting to settle down and domesticate plants and animals at the founding of the agricultural age, they didn’t.”
“I wonder why?”
“Their environment is already plentiful. There was no need for them to change their hunter-gatherer lifestyle.”
“So they’re entirely primitive? They really are just a bunch of troglodytes?”
“No. They’ve developed in their own way. Art, culture, literature, science. But not like those on the topside. There is no oil down here, so the internal combustion engine was never invented, the clement weather is permanent, so there has been little need to develop synthetic clothing to keep warm, or structures in which to reside. In many ways, they are evolutionarily equivalent to those of the 18th century, with a much higher development in literature and philosophy. Even more interesting, still, is the fact that if you were to show them complex machinery from the surface, they would grasp the foreign concepts faster than you and I and quickly become capable of reproducing it.”
“Why?”
“Beats me. Just the way they’ve evolved, I guess. Maybe their brains aren’t being tested. Or maybe because they haven’t atrophied by the constant assistance of technology. I don’t know.”
Sam watched a couple large, flightless birds running across a field on the opposite side of the river. They looked like emus, only much larger.