it." He turned to Nick, "This has never happened before. The Portal has closed!"
"What?" stammered Nick.
"The portal... the gateway to your side has evaporated... three days before it should have," returned the Director. "That's never happened before. We've always been able to time it to the exact hour." Another alarming thought invaded his mind, "Oh, no," and turned to the Evaluator. "Quick, contact the two search teams and get a personnel status." He addressed Nick, "I want to make sure no one was trapped on the..." he corrected himself. "Er, no one was hurt by the sudden collapse or possible explosion... although neither of those has occurred before either." He acted very distressed as the phone rang again. The Evaluator handed it to him, "Tal here. Yes, yes. Oh, thank goodness. All members of both teams are accounted for..." he then spoke in a soft voice, "and they were able to extract five subjects?" He listened. "No, I don't know how to proceed for the next time. The Weather Bureau will have to analyze and direct us. Good job, return to gate three for processing. See you and your subjects below later," and hung up.
"Good news as I'm sure you have determined," said Tal to Nick. "Neither you nor Mister Grover should be alarmed, these portals open frequently. Unfortunately, it may be a few months before another opens near enough to our tri-pod or one of the two other tri-cities on this continent. However, on the plus side: our Weather Bureau is very efficient in detecting portal opening and we will get you to an exit as soon as possible. Trust me."
Nick was stunned speechless and offered nothing. "It appears we are in an awkward position at the moment but it is workable. You and Glenn are still going to get the Tour but now it will be oriented more towards your living amongst us... for a short time. A different perspective indeed! You'll enjoy it here I'm sure. Are you game?" Nick weakly nodded, 'yes'.
The two friends were rejoined and shown the workings of the pod, not so much as esteemed visitors but more as potential working citizens. After two days of 'indoctrination' they were separated for further evaluation and placed in the Elite Facilitators separate dorm-like facilities within the Government Complex.
Days passed
"I haven't seen Glenn in four days," reflected Nick. "or has it been longer? Is their day clock the same as ours? It should be; we're still on the planet Earth... I think." Nick then went to the apartment which had been assigned to Glenn. There was a different name listed on the right side of the door. Of course, it could be an old listing, after all they had both recently arrived. He knocked and a pleasant man, a power company supervisor responded. No, he didn't know Glenn and had just been assigned to this unit yesterday.
Nick, next went to the thirtieth floor - Human Resources and Housing who informed his friend had been loaned to NA#23. They needed assistance with a food processing problem and required his expertise and H.R & H wasn't aware of him trying to contact Nick before departure. Glenn's assignment should last between two and three weeks and no, you may not call him. inter-pod communications were reserved to upper level management and travel between was restricted to personnel transporting essential products. "Their sister cities might as well be ten thousand miles apart," thought Nick.
"Don't worry, he's fine," which always sounded a bit suspicious.
The following 'Monday' Nick was assigned to a restoration project at the farthest northeast perimeter of NA#23's outlying badlands; it had been the last pod constructed and needed the most environment corrective-purifications to protect them from induced toxic poisoning. It was also the same pod Glenn had been assigned. The workers were all a good crew and he provided the technical expertise. He also wore a green jump suit denoting the Environmental Department and served as second in command - a low level Government official was actually the project manager, on paper. Beyond that oddity, under Nick's direction they were correcting the damaged countryside three times faster than any team had done previously. As he worked he learned some of the terrible history of this world. There had been previous great technological-enhanced countries and civilizations which had all been completely destroyed by a global nuclear war. Today, there existed thirty-one tri-pods worldwide which were struggling to regenerate their surrounding natural resources and expand underground capacities where is where they grew their food resources since the atmosphere was lethal to long term human vegetarian consumption. They could communicate with each other but didn't have intercontinental transport abilities. All offensive weapons, petroleum generated devices and derivative products were banned. Civilization's present communities survived on electricity and in some locales, candles within the residences.
Back to what Nick felt was an unusual occurrence in the work force: The best technician on the crew was an older gentleman, someone who he reasoned was close to retirement and spoke to him concerning such at the beginning of the project. The man became alarmed and fretted, "You're not going to force me to retire are you? Are you going to tell the Government people I'm not good enough? I'll work harder... I'll do whatever you want." He grabbed Nick's sleeve and pleaded, "Please don't do this to me. They'll send me to the Retirement Center... for the good of all."
"No, no," returned Nick. "You're my best worker and you can stay on my crew as long as you want." The man reacted as if he had been reprieved from a death sentence. A week later Nick noticed the old man's job assignment had been replaced by a younger person. He inquired of his official project manager, "Why?" and was told that particular worker had reached the mandatory retirement age and now resided at the Senior Center. "Oh, well," reflected Nick. "I'm sure he'll be much happier after a little adjustment. I'll look in on him in a coupla weeks and say, Hi," then asked the manager, "Where is the Center located?"
"The Senior and Medical Centers are directly above the Food Development Facilities - the layout is identical for all tri-pods. The program's geographical alignment is the most efficient for the good of all.
"For the good of all," he had heard this expression a number of times. "Did it mean more than just ground space optimum utilization?"
The project manager noticed the furrow in Nick's brow and went on to explain: "Beneath the city is a vast network of tunnels and caverns where our organic and hydroponic gardens are grown using artificial light and irrigated from subterranean fresh water streams, that's why the pods were constructed on these particular locations. As you have found, the atmosphere outside is too toxic to sustain nutritious vegetation growth. The expansion of our underground resources is coupled with the above ground purification which you have so expertly helped. The overall operation falls within the Food Development department."
"Yes, it appears the outside plant life is anemic and struggling," agreed Nick. "What about raising livestock inside?"
"We haven't raised any for over two hundred years; we tried but they all died. The populace is solely sustained by a manufactured product called Nutri Bar which is healthy and flavorful. Necessitation and adaptation has fulfilled our needs and desires. "
Nick thought, "Like hell and all the reason more to have a big delicious steak when I return home," then took another bite of his mundane lunch, the product his manager had just referred to. 'Crunch' "Humm, what do we have here? A nut perhaps?" He dug it out and examined the semi-hard article... once, twice and three times. "I'll be damned, it's a piece of a fingernail!" and presented it to his supervisor. "Should we refer this to Food Quality Control? It appears someone is not wearing plastic gloves when processing."
"No," he returned. "Things like this happen on occasion. Food Processing is still a struggling, developing operation and will improve." Followed by what Nick considered a most bizarre statement. "Eat it. It's all protein and good for you."
A week later, during an evening after fighting Mother Nature on NA#23's perimeter
Nick was in his new home, his assigned apartment, reclining in a lounger and listening to soothing classical music which was pumped into every home, work and public place. The broadcasts included required mandatory community involvement project information struck him as being simila
r to propaganda mind control. He pondered anew why he hadn't been able to locate Glenn... or the old man who had been replaced on his work crew. When he visited the Senior Center he was informed the worker had unexpectedly passed away. "Strange," he thought. "He appeared to be excellent health, and odd also there were less than ten retirees in residence." Nick calculated a city of ten thousand should have at least fifty to hundred souls dwelling there. Then there was still the on-going problem of Glenn. "Where in the heck was he?" The answers to his inquires had changed from he's working at ___ to, "We don't know his present assignment or, What is his name again?"
A knock at the door. He opened it to reveal an attractive lady he took to be a tad older than himself. She was of average height, had ice cold, blue eyes, brunette hair and a pleasant smile. "Mister Fleming? Nick?" He nodded, 'yes'. "Hello, I'm Nilsa. I've been sent by the Stability Committee to be your comfort mate."
He noticed she was carrying a suitcase. "Who, what... are you talking about?"
"Oh," she appeared slightly embarrassed. "Again, it seems a recipient hasn't been advised beforehand. I declare, the communications between some departments just doesn't