c. 2026 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(4-26)
The primitive radio broadcast from Grafton Depot reminded Judson Baines of his encounter with citizens of Atlantia, and their own regional programming. Though electricity was a rare commodity in that eastern enclave, the inhabitants had begun to develop small-scale generation through the harnessing of natural sources. Streams and rivers were tapped for their lively flow. Old solar panels were revived, when possible, having been left from the collapse of fallen empires on the planet. Minimalist stations that burned wood and coal added to this mix. While the output was not considerable in numerical terms, it allowed for a limited amount of networking, as families began to relocate into areas outside of the original perimeter. Traditional transmitters with a limited range required little power to operate. And reception could be achieved with a variety of castoff devices. Anything from a vacuum-tube relic, to a transistor receiver, or even a crystal set, could be pressed into service. This crude form of communication gave members of the greater confabulation a sense of unity. It helped to bind all of the individuals together, despite being decidedly independent in their philosophies and habits.
During previous visits to their erstwhile homeworld, the university professor had not detected any population centers in what had once been called West Virginia. But now, he realized that there must be isolated pockets of humanity all across the deserted continent. The three major republics were different in their approach to achieving survival and advancement, yet each had similar intentions. They all hoped to flourish and grow, over time. With a free exercise of liberty being paramount. Only the views of their governing bodies seemed to vary on that principle, with Calimex having the most sophisticated and aggressive stance.
While Baines had no medical education, he suspected that his partner who had exited the Space Force needed rest more than anything else, after her tumble down the hillside above Evergreen Estates. So, he set monitors onboard the Digger shuttle to alert him if she stirred or regained consciousness. Then, reconnected the wiring harness he had created, and returned to the trailer of his genetic link, at Lot 13. There, the vintage radio they had discovered previously was a perfect conduit for signals still emanating from Grafton. It bore the markings of an item vended by Sears & Roebuck, a retailer that once dominated American markets, and carried a large set of knobs, a huge center dial, and a wooden cabinet.
As he busied himself sorting through cardboard boxes stored in the trailer, a new episode of the daily schedule was underway.
“Neighbors, were all out here tryin’ ta make a go of things. So with that in mind, I’d like ta read off a list of titles available for yer inspection at the town library. I will provide a condensed version of some volumes right here, on air, when there is enough juice in the batteries. But for right now, let me just give ya some of the highlights. There’s a lot ta learn from our ancestors, they were smarter than ya might think. A whole lot more practical than the crowd who blew up everything on this big hunk of land in between the oceans...”
The archivist and scholar paused while digging through a mass of collected magazines and books. He twisted the volume control for a better sound from his borrowed receiver. There was another crackle of static and distortion, before the host continued with his morning report.
“From the antiquated Foxfire series, here are some of the lessons contained fer plain livin’ of the kind we’re all doin’ right now... listen close, ya don’t want ta miss anything!”
The professional nerd inclined his ear toward the speaker. He was interested in knowing what sort of resources were available in the rural library.
“Tools and skills.
Building a log cabin.
Chimney building.
White oak splits.
Making a hamper out of white oak splits.
Making a basket out of white oak splits.
An old chair maker shows how.
Rope, straw, and feathers are to sleep on.
A quilt is something human.
Soap-making.
Cooking on a fireplace, Dutch oven, and wood stove.
Mountain recipes.
Preserving vegetables.
Preserving fruit.
Churning your own butter.
Slaughtering hogs.
Curing and smoking hog.
Recipes for hog.
Dressing and cooking wild animal foods.
Moonshining as a fine art.
Faith healing.
Corn Shuckins, House Raisins, Quilting, Pea Thrashings, Singing, Logrolling, Candy Pullin, Kenny Runion...”
Baines raised an eyebrow at the mention of a specific name, among all the tasks that were referenced. He could not help exclaiming to himself while listening.
“Kenny Runion? Who was that?”
He only had to hold his breath for a moment. The announcer from Grafton Depot finished his thought almost immediately.
“Now, in case y’all might not be familiar with Mr. Runion, he was interviewed fer the book series on multiple occasions. It is said that he lived ta the ripe, old age of 90 years. That feller apparently knew a lot about wild spring foods, makin’ furniture, and mendin’ broken bones. I gotta say that he puts me in mind of a Mountain Witch I’ve read about who lived nearby in Philippi. Her name was Veedee, and she claimed to have put a hex on folks that gave her grief. I wouldn’t want ta mess with anybody like that, there’s black magic in these hills, I’ll tell ya! It’s somethin’ that didn’t disappear like all the cowards who hopped a ride ta Mars, a century ago, ta escape the wages of their own sins!”
The classroom refugee grinned broadly upon hearing this blunt retort about their lost connection to Terran civilizations, He had not believed that too much information about the mass exit to off-world colonies existed, on this giant ball of mud. But the zeal with which it was expressed could not be mistaken.
He and Kelly Strafe were both children of that frantic exodus. They were products of a new society built on cooperation, comity, and shared responsibilities as expressed through benevolent socialsm. Wholly different from the cowboy mindset that once ruled the thoughts of people who lived on Planet Earth. In a sense, they had evolved in an upward arc, to become better and brighter than ever before. Yet there was a fragility to what they had constructed. Inhabitants of the Martian communities feared too much truth, and the wrangling nature of dissent. Through coercion and enforcement, they kept everything on a functional flatline. One without the highs and lows of a thriving, vigorous democracy.
He could not be sure which fate was better to inherit. But he knew well that his own lot had been cast here with the reawakening population of their original home.
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