When Hodges, Hillsy, the McGills, Phil and the others had trooped off back down the escape stairs, Tom and Maddie looked around the living room. It had an old-fashioned sort of feel, with comfy furniture, thick carpets, a desk and office chair, and rows and rows of shelves. Maddie had seen books before; McGilly had once read her a story from an old Harry Potter novel they had found. She pulled out a book at random and flipped through the pages, feeling a sense of shame and disappointment that she could hardly understand a word.
Tom stared at the large plasma screen hanging on the wall. “What on Earth’s that!” he exclaimed.
“Oh, I use it for making my documentaries on the computer,” replied Don. “It’s the only way I can incorporate footage from the insurgents. They’re not hooked into Oodles. In fact, they don’t have any transplants. They were banned by their religion, but they wouldn’t want them anyway; it’s against everything they’re fighting for.”
“Like us! We don’t have transplants, either.”
Don and Jacqueline looked at them in amazement.
“Then how do you know what to do, where you are, what’s going on?” gasped Jacqueline.
“We get by. Our parents have taught us everything they know,” replied Maddie. “They’re very good to us; they are only trying to do their best to protect us from The Founder and Oodles.”
“But you won’t know anything about History, Science, Culture, Art, or Music. You won’t have experienced anything, either first-hand or through the Sensories!” said Don, perplexed and staggered. “It’s bad enough that everything real is being lost through the catastrophes, but to not know about anything, even in recorded form, is very cruel.”
“Mum says we have to start again, when all this has gone, if we have time,” said Maddie, unconvinced herself.
Don looked around, perplexed, wondering what he could do to show them that there must be another way. Jacqueline got up and went over to the shelves of DVDs, looking along the titles and taking one out.
“Play them this. It’s one of my favourites,” she said, handing Don a copy of “Still Life at the Penguin Café”.
“Jacqui, you are the apple of my “i”! Your levels of sensuality continue to amaze me!” said Don, surprised, grinning and triumphant.
“This will show you what humans can do; the beauty of their creativity; the essence of their being. It also shows what has happened to some of our fellow creatures and why it is so tragic that most species are now lost. There are no lions, tigers, elephants or wildebeest left in Africa; no kangaroos, wallabies, koalas or kookaburras left in Australia; no armadillos or sloths left in South America. Soon, I fear, we will be gone, too!”
“Just play the DVD, Don! Let them decide,” suggested Jacqueline.
Don placed the disc in the ancient player and they settled back on the comfy settees as the catchy, bouncy music burst through large Hi-Fi speakers on either side of the plasma screen.
Tom and Maddie watched in amazement as people dressed as strange, upright, black and white birds danced serenely and cavorted around tables and chairs. They admired the dancing of the Utah Longhorn Ram and her partners; grinned at the antics of the Texan Kangaroo Rat; laughed out loud at Humboldt’s Hog-nosed Skunk Flea tying up the Morris Dancers in a knot; wept at the fate of the Southern Cape Zebra, the most beautiful dancer; and felt as one with the Rainforest People. The music was infectious, jolly; sublime in its repetition and juxtaposition of long melodious strains of violin and cello with tinkling ukuleles, bongos and snare-drums.
The dancing was sublime; they didn’t know anyone could dance like that. It was so carefree and apparently casual; uninhibited, sensual and sexual, but so pure and free from perversity.
The Brazilian Woolly Monkey showed them the comic and darker side of human nature, but the death of the Great Auk reminded them of their possible fate. When the Ark appeared, coinciding with a series of loud explosions from the basement below, they understood the message and knew what they had to do.