c. 2024 Rod Ice
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(8-24)
Once Kelly Strafe and scientist Judson Baines had set up their base camp at Evergreen Estates, there was finally time to decompress after descending to the planetary surface. The Morningstar III continued to orbit overhead, relaying pertinent data. Wildlife had begun to return as the landscape of Ohio was slowly awakening from a long period of evolutionary slumber. Yet things were eerily silent in the park. The ecosystem had been wounded by war and famine. Now, only cockroaches seemed to prosper amid the cluster of manufactured homes. But in the distance, frogs croaked and crickets chirped.
Their synthetic shelter was a pyramid composed of what looked like a mashup of vinyl and aluminum foil. It glistened in the sunlight. Both explorers from the Mars crew were eager to begin their work. But first, the lieutenant knelt by a brown boulder that sat between halves of the park entrance. She bowed her head, and made a religious sign before offering a prayer.
“Creator God, we have come back to this ball of mud to reconnect with where our journey as a species began. Protect us, and let us be fruitful in our work. Amen!”
Baines spun around at hearing this unexpected entreaty to a higher power. It made his glasses fog up, from sweat and disbelief.
“A prayer? Really? We come thousands of miles through outer space, and you act like a girl in church on a Sunday morning?”
Strafe made a rude sound, buzzing her red lips.
“Does that offend you as a nerd? I didn’t think it would be a problem...”
The science wizard laughed and shook his head. He had oversized ears and a jutting chin that made him appear to have once been rooming with elves in a hollow tree.
“No, no offense taken. I just thought that sort of thing had gone out of style eons ago. Mankind has come a long way in the last hundred years. We’ve finally learned to put prejudices aside, and quit killing each other over imaginary geographical boundaries, and spiritual icons.”
Strafe snorted and stood up straight. Her hair blew gently as a breeze cooled the air.
“Well, I hope we learned something from moving out into the stars. But I’ll hold onto what I know. There’s logic in everything I believe. Creation implies a creator, right? One follows the other. Just as nature expresses the beauty of life and the balance between joy and sorrow.”
Baines made a face like someone who had tasted a sour lemon.
“Sorry, Kel, that’s too artsy for me. Too deep in philosophy. I trust in what I can see and hear and measure, not shadows and ghosts...”
The ranked officer nodded patiently, and accepted their differing viewpoints.
“So anyway, what are we looking for down here? What’s left of the civilization that used to flourish on this big piece of galactic rock?”
The professional geek brightened with interest at her question.
“You’re here to make certain we stay secure. And document this mission. I’m here to poke around and stick my nose where it might not belong. See, this was what they used to call the heartland. Before the Great Uprising, this was fertile ground. They grew crops here, raised livestock, and had families. This part of America made the nation strong. But it also birthed other things. Suspicion, mistrust, rebellion, and eventually, failure...”
Lt. Strafe had been taught all of those facts in her grade school, on Mars.
“I get it, Juddy. But what’s left now? Earth is more than a stone’s throw away. Why come back here, to take pictures and soil samples? Why bother with this dirty planet at all?”
Baines removed his eyewear, and thought for a moment.
“Only two states survived after the uprising. On the west coast, Calimex. Portions of the southern half of California and a bit of what used to be Mexico. It was a military district until self-government was returned, by decree. And on the east coast, Atlantia. Parts of New York and other areas along the ocean. In the west, solar and wind power kept things going. That worked for them. It let their society prosper, on a limited scale of socialism. But for those back east, a different paradigm took over. They returned to burning wood to stay warm in the winter, and cook their meals. Old, agrarian habits had to return. The nation-states were so far apart that they had little contact with each other. And eventually, not much contact with us, the citizens of far-flung cities on Mars and elsewhere...”
The military conscript shrugged and flipped her ponytail.
“Great. But I still don’t get it, why are we here? This is a dead zone, right? That’s what they taught us at school in New Cleveland. Plus, at the Space Force academy. There’s nothing to see here, apparently. Why waste the energy just to come back and peek at some graves?”
Her studious cohort replaced his spectacles, and frowned while answering.
“Because that question has deviled us for a century. What happened after the uprising blew everything apart? What became of the stragglers who didn’t flee to Mars and the other worlds, beyond? How did they survive? Or did they? Are you on target, is this just a giant cemetery? Curiosity got the better of us, as a species. Our leaders wanted to know. Our people wanted to know. And me, as one egghead with a pile of degrees and plenty of time on my hands, I wanted to know!”
Strafe smiled over the irony of his confession. It had her tingling with a sense of adventure.
“So, you came all this way on a whim. To see if civilization really died out here, in what used to be Ohio, or spang up again like weeds between the rocks? That’s it? You just rolled the dice to see what happened?”
Her partner on the voyage folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. He had no reason to prevaricate.
“That’s it. I convinced the head of research at Mars University that it would be a worthwhile investment. Basically, because someone found an old photo of my great grandfather, umm... something like that. A genetic link in the chain. He lived right here, in one of these trailers. At the time, it was considered to be a badge of dishonor. Something to be ashamed of, you know? That guy planted the seed though, he made it possible for me to stand on a Martian plateau, many years into the future, and look back with wonder. I’m here to solve a riddle. What happened to Townshend Carr Lincoln? What happened to the Trailer Park Militia of Ohio? What happened to those pitiful rubes that couldn’t ride on a spaceship, or escape to the coasts? What happened to all of them?”
The lieutenant reddened with embarrassment. She had been tricked into thinking that their journey was an undertaking of serious business. Yet now, the truth caused her stomach to tighten, and ache. She shucked her sheath of military discipline, and let every emotion fly freely.
“YOU’RE A HUCKSTER, JUDSON BAINES! A FREAKING HUCKSTER! JUST LIKE YOUR GAWDAMM ANCESTOR MUST HAVE BEEN, 100 YEARS AGO!”
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