Nequa; or, The Problem of the Ages

by Alcanoan O. Grigsby; Mary P. Lowe

One long island, lying parallel with the coast immediately before us, particularly attracted our attention. It seemed to be some twenty-five or thirty miles in length, and lay like an elevated ridge, between two promontories which extended out from the mainland at either extremity, from which it was separated by narrow channels. This formed a magnificent bay which contained a number of smaller islands that divided the bay into a series of land-locked harbors.

The Cocytas river, to which our attention had been called, flowing from the mountains in the northwest, entered this bay at its northern extremity, through two outlets about five miles apart. Between these outlets was a triangular island about fifteen miles in length. The north bank of the northern outlet was a promontory which extended out from the mainland, to within a few hundred feet of the northern extremity of the island which separated the waters of the bay from the ocean.

As we neared the coast, what had seemed to be a huge smokestack on the point of the promontory that constituted the southern shore-line of the bay, was revealed to our vision as a colossal tower, that in its general appearance, was an exact duplicate of the strange tower we had passed at the northern verge, at the point where we had escaped from the ice. The material used, the style of architecture, and everything about it indicated that it was erected by the same people and for the same purpose.

We had now been speeding forward in a straight line for five hours. We had covered fully 1,000 miles, and MacNair assured us that we had been traveling slowly, in order to give us an opportunity to study the topography of the country, as a whole, from an advantageous position, at an average height of about four miles, though at times we had ascended to higher altitudes, as Iola suggested, to so train our lungs to an attenuated atmosphere, that we would experience less discomfort from the lofty aerial flights we were destined to make.

MacNair now called our especial attention to the region of country we were approaching. It was an agricultural district, and, evidently, in a high state of cultivation. It looked like a vast prairie farm, regularly laid out, in the shape of a parallelogram, extending from east to west about thirty miles, and from south to north about fifteen miles. Magnificent buildings appeared at regular intervals, surrounded by beautiful grounds, and connected by broad boulevards, reaching from one end to the other, and crossed by elevated roads at regular intervals. On these magnificent highways, splendid carriages were rolling, but no horses were in sight. Electric cars were continuously moving both ways between these houses, the north and south lines being elevated.

Airships of all sizes and designs, seemed to be ubiquitous, and were moving in every direction. Children amused themselves on the shaded lawns that bordered the boulevards, and in the flower gardens of the highly ornamented grounds around the palatial buildings which appeared in every direction. While this district seemed to be distinctively agricultural, much of the surface was given up to parks, shaded driveways, miniature rivers, artificial lakes, fountains, ornamental gardens and orchards.

The lands devoted to cultivation, were laid off into rectilinear fields running the entire length of the district, thus securing a saving of labor that could not have been accomplished in any other manner. From one end to the other of these long fields, monster machines were moving, operated by electricity, and completing their work as they went. One machine to which MacNair directed our especial attention, was a combined breaking plow, seeder and roller. It was moving at a rapid rate, and leaving behind it a strip, fifty feet in width, thoroughly pulverized, seeded and rolled. The operator occupied a comfortably furnished cab, and directed the progress of the machine by what we were told was a delicately arranged electric keyboard on a table before him.

Everywhere within the range of our vision was presented a scene of industrial activity, and yet comparatively few appeared to be engaged in actual labor. The major portion of the population seemed to be out enjoying a holiday. So impressed was Captain Ganoe with this appearance, that he asked if it was some special festival occasion.

"Not at all," said MacNair. "This scene of recreation and enjoyment is of every day occurrence. The people of this inner world have learned that it takes very little physical labor to provide an abundance of every article of necessity, comfort and luxury for the whole people. They have discovered how to control the great forces of nature and the machine has taken the place of human muscle."

"But," said the Captain, "does not that throw the great masses of the people out of employment, and place them at the mercy of the people who own the machines and the land?"