The Maya 1.48 — SteemCN

Previously On The Maya...

George Kirkegaard and Paloma spend more time together. Kirkegaard notes that just like Marie Layton and most of the women he's seen on the Isle of Use, Paloma hasn't aged at all, despite being two years older than he is. He however, looks a little older than he really is. Paloma says most people are married younger and have children by the age of twenty-five, which is why she's still single.

Over lunch, Paloma tells how she ended up on the Isle of Use. She got invited to immigrate about three years ago, shortly after they saw each other last. She decided to make the move. Since then, all immigration to the island has been stopped in order to ensure sufficient resources for a growing populace for years to come. After lunch, they end up at the Museum of Island History, where they start a private tour.

The Maya—a living legend covert operative-for-hire that no one she encounters can remember.

George Kirkegaard—a former newspaper owner forced out of business by state government.

Eugenio Stavros—a shipping magnate on a trip to the mysterious Isle of Use to renegotiate a steel contract.

Amara Barclay—a savvy, independent multi-millionaire entrepreneur and socialite with unparalleled beauty.

Mr. Tic and Mr. Snake—two U.S. government officials running off-the-books dark ops involving The Maya.

And now...the next installment of The Maya.

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Virtually everything on the island plant-wise was believed to have floated on the air from somewhere else, making it difficult to call any of the palms, palmettos, ferns and other species of plants indigenous. However, what was there grew readily and there was no need to bolster or brace it. The soil had a great deal to do with it, along with the climate, which actually varied from subtropical, to steppe to alpine.

Fauna, like birds, lizards, fish and snakes, were also a part of the island's natural ecosystem. Other animals, such as deer and elk, were introduced to the island environment, but took well to it. So well, in fact, that the island's different wild herds and flocks continued to grow in numbers on their own. Hunting was allowed, without permit, nine months out of the year.

Trace related this information as they stood inside a tidal pool, watching various sea life swim or float by. In the middle of the display were three large and thin video screens, divided into different sections, which Trace said totaled sixty. In each of the sections was a different part of the island habitat where wild animals of different kinds could be seen. Not all of the sections had an animal in it, as the space was merely an observational site, with the animal wandering in it.

"We have remote cameras set up in each of those locations," Trace said, when Kirkegaard asked how it was done. "The cameras are wireless, sending back their transmission to our servers. They run on batteries, which must be switched out for recharging once a week. This arrangement allows for maximum amount of observation time, with minimum amount of maintenance."

"There's a number up in the top right hand part of the section," Kirkegaard said, noting that each one of the space's counts were different. At first, he thought they might correspond to the camera, but could find no rhyme or reason to it.

"That's how many computers are logged in to view that specific site," Trace said. "People can get on their computer from home and log in directly to the video feeds."

"Really?" Kirkegaard seemed doubtful. "Eight thousand, six hundred and twenty-six people looking at pine needles?"

"There were a couple of squirrels playing before you arrived," Trace said. "There was at least triple that current number viewing before the squirrels took off. Guess the remaining must be hoping they'll come back."

"Students can use these to make scientific observations for class, right?" Paloma asked. "I seem to remember that from the last time I was in here."

"That is true," Trace said. "In fact, that's what most are. Children watching animals. Even if most schools are not in session right now."

"That's pretty impressive," Kirkegaard said. Even with his little knowledge about networking and the internet, he knew there was some serious technology being used.

"Most of this is state-of-the-art," Trace said, waving around to the equipment and their environment. "Some of it is ten years ahead of what you'll find in the U.S. or Japan. Some of it's even farther out than that."

They came around a sea wall where it opened up to a large field, which was itself swallowed up by thick trees. Where most museums might be content to just paint them, or even make them out of plastic, The Museum of Island History preferred to present the tree or bush to the patron in natural form. The ceiling must have been over a hundred feet high to accommodate the five-column wide swath of trees that lined the far wall. In the middle of it all, resting in knee-high grass, was an actual one-engined prop plane, replete with rusting pontoons. Behind it, was a glass wall with a view of the mountains. In front of it, forests, plains, and then the ocean.

Kirekgaard got the significance immediately. The plane was the one Tucson Sutton II actually flew to the island. The place represented was the part of the island where he first landed, and the view was what he saw. Pristine, jaw-dropping, and all for the taking. Sutton couldn't have been any more fortunate than this. Outside the national claim of any country, well within international waters, unknown to any people, it was entirely possible Sutton was the first human to ever set foot on the island. New frontiers did not get any newer than that.

Kirkegaard looked around at the scene, listening to Trace describe it as if Sutton had just hopped out of the plane, when he realized something was missing. There was no figure or statue of Sutton. When he asked, Trace shrugged.

"I was told Mr. Sutton won't allow it," he said. "If others want to make statues of people, to each his own, but Mr. Sutton doesn't want any of him."

"They'll just wait until he's gone," Kirkegaard said, smiling slyly.

"I use to think that, too," Trace said, adding his own smile, "I guess the entire Sutton family would have to sign off on it in his absence. There's ten of them still. With each successive generation, there's more who get to vote."

"Kids who do what their told," Kirkegaard said with mock surprise. He looked over at Paloma, winked, then turned back to Trace. "Of course, the Sutton's children are adults, even grandparents now, but I'll be happy if I can even get one of my kids to listen to me, let alone do what I say." He was trying to be funny, but Trace didn't seem to get it.

"I'm sure they'll listen to you with all the love and respect a father deserves," Trace said.

As they left the room with the view of the landing, they entered into a theatre room. "The Suttons filmed a lot of the early work done here," Trace said, "The museum had some of the footage edited into a thirty-minute film, which Mr. Sutton graciously introduces and then narrates. If you'd like to watch it, I'll leave you to it while I attend to other things."

Both Kirkegaard and Paloma expressed a desire to see the film, so Trace dimmed the lights and left the room. Shortly after his departure, the film began. Music swelled as black and white footage of men standing in a forest with felling equipment posed, then began preparing a tree. Different scenes, including excavating, roadwork, damming, canal digging, and putting up buildings played out in a matter of moments. The words, "A short history of the Isle of Use" appeared on the screen, then fell away, replaced in another part of the screen by "Narrated by Tuscon Sutton II."

The scenes faded, and then were replaced by what appeared to be a library, or a study. A man, dressed in a leather jacket, similar to what an old time navy pilot might wear, a striped button down shirt and jeans, walked in and reclined on the desk. He was tall, ruggedly-built, with square features, groomed snow-white hair and sideburns, but no other facial hair. He appeared to be in his late-fifties to early sixties.

"Welcome to the Museum of Island History. I'm Tuscon Sutton II."

Time did actually move forward, from Trace announcing Sutton would be narrating the short film, to the man standing, larger than life, in front of them, but for Kirkegaard, it was like being thrust backward several decades. Not because of the earlier black and white scenes, or the date this introduction may have been made, but due to the man himself. Sutton did not appear to be over one hundred and twenty years old, not even close. For this image of Sutton to adequately chronicle the age it reflected, the introduction needed to be filmed back in the thirties. It however, was sharp in color, and looked new.

"I've been asked to talk a little about the early days of the island, after my first arrival here, when others joined our family, to make the Isle of Use into the modern fusion of human civilization and natural island habitat it is today. A lot of hard work went into developing those first roads and neighborhoods, but over time, with sound planning and advances in technology, things became significantly easier."

After extending an invitation to join him down memory lane, the scene faded again, and the black and white footage returned, with Sutton's narration over the top. Kirkegaard found himself immersed in it, but wanting to see Sutton again. It was impossible for a man that old to look that young, and Kirkegaard wanted to study his image some more.

'The Maya' publishes every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.

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