A Planned Improvisation (5 page)

“Hidden!” Leslie laughed. “None of us were survivalists. I had to keep people walking single file for the first
 
few weeks because they tended to leave a trail a blind man could follow.”

“Then we just never got close to you,” Park nodded, “but you seem to have survived the trip.”

“Not all of us,” Bill shook his head, “Ken and Mary Schmidt were killed when we got too close to a herd of those big dark herd beasts. We call them neo-bison.”

“If they’re the ones I think,” Park replied, “we just call them grazers, but neo-bison is a good name too. Their meat is tasty, by the way, and some of our animal experts have been trying to domesticate them.”

“Good trick if they can do that,” Bill admitted. “What do you call those tawny carnivores?”

“Neo-lions,” Park replied, “if you mean the post-mammals, although I think there are several species of them. There are some neo-reptiles that have that color and hunting habit to our south too.”

“We call them neo-lions too,” Bill admitted. “One nearly got me the day after we lost Ken and Mary. Fortunately, Leslie here can shoot from her hip.”

“Having an automatic rifle didn’t hurt,” Leslie admitted, “but it
 
took half a clip to put that thing down.”

“After that we started learning how to avoid such dangers,” Bill nodded. “The neobisons are territorial. Just let them go by or give them a wide berth as you walk around them, but the neolions tend to follow them. If a herd is stationary and grazing, it’s best to avoid going near large rocks and trees. The neolions like to do their waiting in shade. When a herd is on the move, they tend to stay back between one hundred and one hundred fifty yards, so we just let them go by as well. There were still a few close calls and injuries, but eventually we made it here and decided this would be a good place to homestead.”

“You seem to have done all right for yourselves,” Park admitted. “You have a strong, comfortable house here. The fields look good. I even saw a pair of windmills out there so you have power?”

“We carried a coil of armature wire with us and Phillis there,” Bill pointed toward a tall, red-haired woman near the back of the crowd, “managed to rig up a working power mill.”

“It’s not as efficient as I’d hoped,” Phillis admitted. “But we can keep our power tools charged when there’s enough wind and usually there is. But only one of the mills is for power. The other is a water pump.”

“That’s right,” Bill admitted. “We got here during the rainy season and at first thought this was just a wetter climate than back in Ohio.”

“I could have told you otherwise,” Park laughed. “A lot has changed, but the prevailing winds are still from the west around here. You’re on the dry side of the mountains.”

“We are,” Bill agreed, “and supercontinents tend to be arid for the most part anyway.”

“This one is partially moderated,” Park told him, “mostly because of the Sink – that great inland sea that used to be the Indian Ocean – but yes, this is drier than the North America we knew.”

“So we drilled for water and found it less than sixty feet down,” Bill told him.

“You carried drilling equipment with you too?” Park asked unbelievingly.

“Not hardly,” Bill laughed. “But these are volcanic mountains. We found diamonds to rig drill heads up with. For a shaft we had a tree trunk. Look around. Some of the trees in the area grow to one hundred feet. The real problem was that the drill kept getting clogged and that the diamonds get getting dislodged. It took us months to get that drill working to our satisfaction and then we didn’t need it anymore.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t just dig a cistern,” Marisea commented.

“We built one of those too,” Bill told her. “but it’s larger than we need now that we have running water. One cistern wouldn’t have been enough to water the fields though. That first year was tough, but we’ve been comfortable and able to get to our real work ever since.”

“What is your real work?” Dannet asked interestedly.

“We call ourselves neophilosophers,” Bill replied. “The whole reason for not only getting away from the base but getting this far away was that we wanted to learn how to use our minds in an entirely new way.”

“Not psychic powers, I hope,” Park remarked.

“No,” Bill laughed, “at least not seriously. Oh, I started an annual spoon-bending contest, but none of us have yet to bend one of the few metal spoons we brought with us. I doubt any of us ever will. No, we’re looking for new philosophies and ways of thinking. We’re looking for a whole new way of life.”

“Come up with anything yet?” Park asked.

“Nothing significant yet,” Bill admitted. “We’re reviewing the ancient philosophies and evaluating their strengths and weaknesses. Trying to make something new from parts of the old, but we’re starting to think that is the wrong way to go about it.”

“I said that all along,” Leslie pointed out.

“Yes, you did,” Bill agreed. Park thought he detected a tired note in Bill’s voice. “We do need to know what’s been done in the past or else we’re all too likely to repeat it. Our main goal, however, is to find a very new start for what is a new world.”

“Fair enough,” Park agreed, “but you may be missing out on something newer than living in a giant log cabin, comfortable as you seem to have made this one. As you can see, we have other intelligent species of Man to talk to now and if you want something really different, try talking to some of the Atackack.”

“The giant ants?” Bill asked. “They don’t just have a hive mind sort of mentality.”

“They are individuals,” Park explained. “Each has a specialization, but they don’t think with a single mind.”

“There is a species like that in the Alliance,” Dannet put in. “They call themselves ‘Us,’ which I guess is predictable. They do not really have a native name for themselves since until contact with the rest of the Alliance they didn’t even have a concept of people other than themselves. In fact, the notion of more than one mind was foreign to them as well. I suppose I ought to be referring to them in the singular, but…” He shrugged.

“Fascinating,” Bill admitted.

“See?” Iris told them. “There’s a whole universe of thought out there. For that matter what you’re looking for might have already been thought up by the Mer or the Atackack.”

“We came out here to work in isolation intentionally, though,” Bill replied. “We could have done the same thing in our spare time back at the base had we wanted to. We felt we would have our best chance working with fewer external influences. Going back now… well, we would have to vote on it.”

“And it would have to be unanimous,” Leslie put in. “I’ll tell you right now, I’m against it.”

“And if some of us wanted to leave?” Phillis demanded of her.

“You want to leave, Phil?” Leslie countered.

“Not really,” Phillis admitted. “I like it here. This is home, but I don’t
 
like the idea that I could be trapped here by fiat.”

“No one is trapped here,” Bill pointed out. “If someone wants to leave, they are free to do so.”

“Well, you folks think about it,” Park told them. “It’s getting dark out so I guess we’ll be staying the night and if you’re so inclined I’d like a tour of your homestead so maybe we’ll stick around another day or two if we’re still welcome.”

Park and the others were assured they were welcome to stay at the Homestead, as it was called, a few days at least.

The next morning, Bill served up plates of pancakes made from grain they had grown themselves covered with the syrup made from the sap of a local tree. “They look a bit like maples and maybe they are. The syrup tastes different, but it is sweet and we’ve come to like it,” he told Park.

“If you decide to go into business, I think you have something worth trading for here,” Park commented.

“I imagine the diamonds would be of use too,” Bill replied wryly. They’re not pretty, most of them, but for industrial purposes, they do the job.”

“The Mer can synthesize them pretty well,” Park informed him, “but I understand there is always a market for natural gems. If you have diamonds, I imagine there are other gemstones about.”

“We haven’t really gone looking for them,” Bill admitted. “The first diamonds were an accidental discovery and we nearly threw them away without realizing what they were. We’ve found peridot, of course. I think we would have had to been blind to miss that, but we’re not really interested in going into the gem business.”

“No problem,” Park nodded. “We’re all pioneers. Our first interest is making sure there’s a next meal coming, most of us aren’t wearing tons of jewelry. And the Mer only wear a little jewelry. A Mer woman is given a token piece on coming of age, but very few ever wear more than that one piece.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to ask about that,” Bill admitted. “I saw that Chai necklace Marisea wears. She can’t possibly be Jewish.”

“She could convert, I suppose,” Park laughed, “but, no, Iris is Jewish and she gave the necklace to Marisea.”

“That makes a little more sense,” Bill decided. “Had Judaism lasted this long I was getting ready to convert myself.”

“Heh,” Park chuckled. “Mer religious practice is not entirely unlike Japanese
Kami-no-michi
or Shinto. It is a set of practices and observances that connect them spiritually to their past. However, it does not require one to profess a particular belief, so it varies from region to region in accordance to the shrines and temples and the history in the area. The practice is not all that organized, though. Some Mer are more observant than others, but I guess that’s normal. They’re people too, you know.”

“Floating Mer-people,” Bill pointed out.

“Only when they wear their suspensor belts,” Park pointed out.

Park, Iris, Marisea and Dannet spent over three days among the Neophilosophers. On the final morning Bill met Park on the front porch of the large house. “We have voted to stay isolated for now,” Bill announced over a cup of coffee.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Park replied, “but I expected it. I think you may have started something great out here and it would be a shame to end it prematurely.”

“Thank you,” Bill replied. “We were afraid you might not take it so well.”

“Bill,” Park replied. “Project Van Winkle is not the Army. You did not sign on for the duration no matter what. I think it is fair to say that turning up two hundred and fifty million years in the future was more than your agreements called for.”

“You don’t think we deserted?” Bill pressed.

“Deserted what?” Park countered. “The colony? I’ll admit we could always use a few extra hands, but you were not indentured to remain. I wish you all well.”

“Thank you,” Bill replied and they shook hands.

“I do have one request, however,” Park added. “We have a spare transceiver on the buggy. I’m sure you can find a way to connect it to your windmill to charge the battery. If you ever need to call for help, you’ll have it. It can also be used to connect your computer pads to the public files in various Mer libraries as well as the one in Van Winkle Town. You’ll need to learn the Mer’s language, but you’ll find tutorials in our library.”

“I’m not sure we’re ready for that,” Bill warned him.

“Well, hold on to it until you are,” Park urged him. Even the closest Mer city is a long walk in an emergency.”

Bill thanked him and an hour later Park was flying the buggy away from the Homestead. “Do you really think they’re going to come up with something new and different, Park?” Dannet asked.

“We won’t know unless we let them try,” Park replied. His torc chimed a moment later. “Been a while since anyone called,” he remarked before activating the link with “Hello?”

“Where have you been Park?” Veronica Sheetz demanded. “I’ve been calling you for days.”

“We must have been in a dead zone,” Park replied.

“Dead zone?” Ronnie demanded. “I thought we fixed that last year. Where were you?”

“On the east side of the west coast mountain range.”

“Hmm, there may be a few shadows in the mountains,” Ronnie admitted. “I thought you were in Alaska.”

“We took a side trip,” Park told her. “What’s the problem?”

“No problem for a change, but I have the latest star drive probe ready to test and you left standing orders not to launch without you.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Park laughed. “All right, we were going to drift around another week or two, but this is more important. We should be back late tomorrow.”

“Take your time,” Ronnie advised. “It will take three days to finish prepping Phoenix Child.”

“Shouldn’t she be ready to lift on a moment’s notice?” Park asked archly.

“I had to replace her fuel tanks, the other day.” Ronnie explained. “The new probe wouldn’t fit in the bay in its old configuration.”

“So now our effective range is less?” Park asked.

“Hardly,” Ronnie laughed. “The launch bay is a foot longer but an inch narrower. The new fuel tanks hold the same volume. They are just a different shape. I finished installing them today and we’re still flushing metallic micro-filings out of the new tanks. I figure we can start pumping in the nitrogen tetroxide and UDMH tomorrow for a small test burn. Fortunately, we didn’t have to rebuild the jet fuel tank. So three days will be a fairly tight schedule.”

“Take as long as you need then,” Park replied. “We’ll still be back tomorrow.”

The return trip from the Homestead was a straight line almost precisely eastward to Van Winkle Town. “Well, they were probably just following the sun,” Park remarked when Marisea pointed it out.

Marisea frowned thoughtfully then asked, “Wouldn’t that cause them to travel in long semi-circles? And I think they would have ended up more or less along the equator, going back and forth a lot.”

“It’s just an expression,” Park told her, amused by the concept of someone literally following the sun no matter where it was in the sky.

It was an hour before sunset that they saw the edge of the grazer migration. “Look at them all!” Dannet gasped. “There must be hundreds of thousands of the beasts.”

“They migrate north for the summer,” Marisea told him, “although I would have thought that would be over by now.”