c. 2026 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(5-26)
The abandoned trailer community of Evergreen Estates had seemed undeniably primitive, when compared to colonies on Mars, or the bustling confederation of Calimex territories. But upon reaching the small, hillside enclave at Grafton Depot, a new perspective was in effect. For all three travelers onboard the Digger shuttle, this sense of being displaced from their normal environment was unifying. As a trio, they hiked over the woodland terrain for about an hour, until reaching this cluster of brick buildings, board shacks, and log cabins. There was some evidence of electrification on a meager scale, yet many of the homes seemed not to have that mode of power available, or even indoor plumbing. Crude outhouses dotted the mountainous slopes, along with sagging barns and pig pens. Most curious was the multiplicity of steepled churches that were interspersed with the other structures. For such a remote and inaccessible population center, there was evidence that the inhabitants were still deeply spiritual as a group. Perhaps continuing onward with old traditions left over from a century, before.
Kelly Strafe and Serge Tarka were interested in the local geography, and agricultural development that had evolved, out of necessity. But for Judson Baines, the immersion into pure, Appalachian culture was most compelling. It was as if the history of humanity had been reborn, from some nugget of DNA revived in a laboratory. Even the life of his great-grandfather, T. C. Lincoln, had been modernistic by comparison.
At the bottom of a long incline, by the riverbank, they found a great hall of some sort. It appeared to have been constructed with hand tools, and manual labor. Everything had a rustic feel of antiquity, though the condition of its timbers indicated a lifespan that could not have been too great. Next to this large, central structure was a stone building that boasted a much older pedigree in its makeup. The kind of durable fortress that might have been a post office or other official terminal for government business. Creeping vines had worked their way up its sides, which provided a decorative accent of nature on what was otherwise, foreign to the area.
Across from this town concourse sat a general store, with tools and shovels displayed in the front window. A banner draped from the roof’s edge proclaimed what awaited, within.
“Bodean Pringle III, Sole Proprietor. Goods and sundries for sale, at fair prices. We aim to please our customers, so we’ll see them again!”
The university professor was stunned by this family connection. It referenced something included in one of his progenitor’s notebooks.
“Lincoln wrote about having a cousin in West Virginia with that surname. Maybe this is a descendant member of the bloodline? That’s an odd coincidence to encounter, but it would make our detour more worthwhile!”
Tarka was cautious while surveying the makeshift village. He still wore the duty uniform of a coastal commander.
“These people are likely to be suspicious of outsiders. I would be careful when we approach anyone...”
Strafe was less fearful of arousing conflict with their presence. She carried a long, walking stick which could also be used for combat, if necessary.
“Most of this looks like it came out of a museum. But the time markers don’t add up. Some houses look new, where others must be very old. You’ve got a few motorized vehicles sitting around, but also carts for mules or horses. It’s a strange mix of eras, all thrown together!”
Baines scratched his red beard, and smiled while pondering.
“That’s a product of social evolution, Kells. After the Great Uprising, they would’ve been in a quandary about how to survive. For those who didn’t hop on a Larman transport, to the Red Planet, life would have become inhospitable. There wasn’t much left, according to my archaeological digs, over the past decade. War, famine, and ecological destruction took a heavy toll on the civilization that remained. In essence, there was a breakdown of that order, and a return to methods not used for generations. They would’ve had to relearn everything. Basic survival skills were lost long before that collapse occurred.”
As they came near the long porch that fronted Pringle’s emporium, a woman appeared, carrying a homemade broom. Her long skirt billowed in the breeze. After sweeping away dried grass and dirt from the wooden steps, she paused and turned her head at an angle. Something unfamiliar had gotten her attention, a tingle of voices or a fragrance of unfamiliar chemistry.
She shielded her eyes with one hand, then called out across the gravel lot.
“You there! We’re open for business, neighbors! Come in and sample some of my dandelion tea, it’s fresh and feisty, just like me!”
Kelly Strafe was first to step out of the thicket of trees, and introduce herself. Her boldness resonated with authenticity.
“Are you the owner’s wife? We’re looking for some shade and home-cooked meal, after walking a long way. Our umm... wagon broke down out there on the hillside.”
Angelette Pringle had wild locks of gray, and a gentle face. She stood with her broom acting as a prop. It felt good to have an excuse to rest for a moment.
“Walkin’ around? I don’t reckon nobody ever comes here on a pleasure hike. We’re a good distance from anywhere else. But y’all are welcome just the same. We’ve got a little kitchen in the back, I got smokehouse ham, green beans, sweet potatoes, and biscuits on the table. Or if ya prefer cornbread, that’s still in the oven, bakin’ up in a cast-iron skillet!”
Tarka was uncomfortable with this new venue. It did not match anything he had ever experienced, on the Pacific coastline. But his associate from the Percival Lowell Institute had turned giddy with the glow of this chance encounter.
For Judson Baines, it meant interacting with living relics from his own past. The sort of experience one could never expect to have, without learning the fantasy art of time travel, through some artificial means.
Mrs. Pringle noted the hesitance of her guests to accept this cheerful invitation, and reacted with a motherly dose of encouragement.
“Y’all come on, there’s no need ta stand out here in the hot sun! Those storms from yesterday have passed by now, and its time ta celebrate! Let’s get inside, and have ourselves a feast!”
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