“Me neither,” Perry agreed.

“Maybe we should have opted for more seminar time before this field trip,” Suzanne said, trying to indulge in a little humor.

Perry laughed hollowly.

Arak got Richard and Michael moving and stayed with them to ward off enthusiastic fans. Suzanne and Perry followed in their wake with Donald close behind. In that configuration they managed to arrive outside room thirty-seven.

Perry looked at the relief on the large bronze door. He recognized it as the three-headed dog, Cerberus, who guarded the underworld in Greek mythology. Surprised, he mentioned it to Arak.

“We didn’t get it from your Greeks,” Arak said with a smile. “No, it was the other way around.”

“You mean the Greeks got it from Interterra?” Perry asked.

“Exactly,” Arak said.

“How?” Perry asked.

“From a failed experiment,” Arak said. “A number of thousands of years ago, a contingent of liberal-minded individuals from Atlantis endured the surface adaptation with grandiose plans of modifying earth surface sociological development. Unfortunately it turned out to be a bust. After several hundred years of fruitless endeavor, it became painfully apparent there was no way to alter the second-generation humans’ penchant for violence. So the whole experiment was abandoned. Yet a number of Interterran legacies remained after the island they’d raised was sunk, like our architectural forms, the concept of democracy, and a smattering of our own primitive mythology including Cerberus.”

“So there was a factual basis for the Atlantis legend,” Suzanne interjected.

“Absolutely,” Arak said. “Atlantis pushed up one of its seamount exit ports to form an island just outside the entrance to the Mediterranean Sea.”

“Hey, come on!” Richard complained. “Let’s cut the jawboning! Either we’re going in here or Mike and I are going back to the main hall where all the action is.”

“All right, I’m sorry,” Arak replied. Then to Suzanne he added, “We can talk more about the Atlantean experiment at another time if you’d like.”

“I’d very much like to do that,” Suzanne said. Then as Arak was opening the door she leaned toward Perry. “Plato did put the island of Atlantis outside the Strait of Gibraltar in his dialogues.”

“Really?” Perry questioned. But he was distracted by the sights and sounds of the scene beyond the bronze door. It was hardly morbid as Suzanne had feared. Instead it was a joyous gala reminiscent of the one the group had attended the evening before, although on a smaller scale. The room was only the size of a large living room. The hundred or so people assembled were dressed in the usual garb save for one individual who stood out sharply. He was dressed in red instead of white. In the back of the room built into the wall opposite the door was a large donut-shaped apparatus that reminded Perry of an MRI machine. Next to it was a table with a box and a book similar to the ones Arak had shown the group in the vault below.

“Arak!” the man in red called out as he caught sight of the new visitors. “What a pleasant surprise!” He immediately excused himself from the people he was chatting with and headed over toward the door. “And you have brought your wards! Welcome!”

“My gosh,” Suzanne whispered to Perry as the man in red neared. “I met him last night.” Suzanne distinctly remembered him as one of the two men who’d joined her and Garona. “He hardly looks like he is about to pass on.” To her he appeared to be the picture of health and the archetype of masculine attractiveness with thick dark hair, flawless skin, and sparkling eyes. She guessed he was in his late thirties.

“This is hardly a mournful wake,” Perry commented.

“Thank you, Reesta,” Arak said. “I didn’t think you would mind if our visitors looked in on your party. Did you meet them at the celebration last night?”

“I had the honor of meeting Dr. Newell,” Reesta said. He bowed to Suzanne and then extended his upright palm.

Self-consciously, Suzanne touched her own palm with his. He beamed.

“Let me present Perry, Donald, Richard, and Michael,” Arak said. He pointed toward the men as he spoke. Reesta responded by bowing to each in turn. Richard and Michael were not paying much attention. They were more interested in the female guests, several of whom they’d seen the previous night.

“Sufa and I have decided to show our visitors some of our culture,” Arak continued. “We’re doing it before much explanation. We thought it might reduce the disbelief usually encountered in orientation.”

“A wonderful plan,” Reesta commented. “Come in! Please.” He stepped out of the way and graciously gestured for them to enter.

“So they have no idea what this celebration is for?” Reesta asked as the second-generation humans filed into the room.

“Not really,” Arak said.

“Ah, such wonderful innocence,” Reesta commented. “It’s so refreshing.”

“But we did just come from a visit to my niche,” Arak added. “Yet I purposefully did not give them a full explanation.”

“A masterful approach,” Reesta commented while winking and giving Arak a nudge with his elbow. Then he looked at the group, before locking eyes with Suzanne. “Today is an important day for me. Today this body of mine dies.”

Suzanne could not help but recoil at this news. Not only did the man appear perfectly hale, but he acted it as well. The announcement even got Richard and Michael’s attention.

“Ah, but do not despair,” Reesta said, smiling at Suzanne’s unease. “Here in Interterra it is a reasonably happy time, more in the realm of an inconvenience or nuisance. And for me it is none too soon. This body was somewhat of a lemon from the beginning. I’ve had to replace many of the organs and the knees twice. Every day it seems that there is another problem. It’s been an endless struggle. And I’ve just heard this morning that the downtime has dropped to only four years due to lack of current demand. For some reason, no one is dying these days.”

“Only four years!” Arak exclaimed. “That’s wonderful! I was wondering why you decided so abruptly. Only last week you’d said you were thinking about doing something over the next couple of years.”

“It’s one of those things that never seems to be convenient,” Reesta said. “I had been putting it off, I have to admit. But now I can’t pass up this current, short downtime offer.”

“Excuse me,” Perry said. “I’m confused, but how long do you people generally live in Interterra?”

“It depends on what you’re talking about,” Reesta said with a twinkle in his eye. “There’s a big difference between the body and the essence in terms of life span.”

“Each body generally lasts two to three hundred years,” Arak said. “But there can be exceptions.”

“As I’ve had to learn the hard way,” Reesta added. “I’ve only gotten one hundred and eighty out of this one. It’s been the worst one I’ve had.”

“Are you suggesting that mind-body dualism is a fact in Interterra?” Suzanne said.

“We are indeed,” Arak said. He smiled like a proud parent. Then to Reesta he added: “Dr. Newell is a quick study.”

“That’s apparent,” Reesta said.

“What the hell are you people talking about?” Richard asked.

“If you’d listen instead of gawk you might have a better idea,” Suzanne said.

“Pardon me!” Richard said, faking an English accent.

“What do you mean by essence?” Perry questioned.

“I mean your mind, your personality, the full complement of your spiritual and mental being,” Arak said. “Everything that makes you you. And here in Interterra essences live forever. They are transferred intact from an old body to a new one.”

Both Suzanne and Perry erupted with a slew of questions, then Perry tried to defer to Suzanne. But Arak raised his hands to quiet them both.

“Remember we are intruders here,” he said. “I’m sure you have many questions. That’s the purpose of this visit. But it is rude to interrupt this private time, and I will explain more of the details later.” Then he turned to Reesta. “Thank you, my friend. We won’t bother you any longer. Congratulations, and have a good rest.”