by Ike Hamill
“Wow. You always save the best for last, Mike.”
Mike smiled. “You don’t have any idea how right you are.”
“There’s more?”
Mike nodded. “Come with me.”
Brad pushed back from the table, stuffed.
“Did I save the best for last, or what?” Mike asked.
Brad smiled and nodded. “I can’t remember the last time I had fried chicken. That really was amazing.”
“And french fries,” Sariah said. “I thought he was crazy for wanting to grow all those peanuts. Then, he didn’t even seem to care about eating them. He only wanted the oil.”
“I’m obsessed with oil,” Mike said. “Brad is the one who made me that way. If it hadn’t been for Brad and Robby’s war between oil and electricity.”
Brad’s smile disappeared. “Please, don’t remind me.”
After a second, they all broke out in laughter.
“For the record, I think you’re both wrong,” Sariah said.
“Yeah?” Brad said, leaning forward. “Why is that?”
Sariah always said the most interesting things.
“You’ve just opened a can of worms, Brad,” Mike said. He got up from the picnic bench and started collecting plates.
Sariah smiled up at him and thanked Mike for clearing the table.
“He always disappears when I start talking because he’s allergic to the truth.”
“Huh,” Mike said. Arms full, he headed toward the house.
Brad turned his attention back to Sariah.
“I think that maybe we’re going about this wrong,” Sariah said. “A lot of us have become self-sufficient, you know? People grow their own crops and raise rabbits, chicken, and goats. Now that we have some sheep, there are plenty of people who are gathering wool and making their own yarn. I mean, there are thousands of miles of yarn within walking distance of this house, but people are still making their own. It’s nice, don’t get me wrong. I like the idea that we’re keeping those old skills alive so that they can be passed down to future generations.”
Brad nodded. Even though there were millions of houses that could be maintained, people were still building their own dwellings. It was like they felt the need to assert their dominance over the world to prove something to themselves. Brad understood—he felt the same way. Back in Gladstone, they had customized houses, linking them together with covered walkways and enclosed greenhouses. There were always two or three construction projects underway.
“So if you think that it’s good to keep the old skills alive, what do you think we’re doing wrong?” Brad asked.
“Everything,” Sariah said.
Brad laughed.
“Have you ever read any really old books?”
“Sure?”
“I mean, like, thousands of years old.”
“Oh. I don’t know. Does The Iliad count? I think I read that in school.”
“Sure,” she said. “Do you remember how many mystical, inexplicable things happen in that story? People are in constant communication with gods, you have Achilles, who is basically invincible, and then gods start interfering with the battles.”
“I guess,” Brad said. “It was a long time ago.”
“Why do you think that people were so willing to accept such a mystical account? Why did they go along with so many descriptions that we would now call paranormal?”
“It was fiction.”
“Was it, though? At the time, most of those stories were simply transcriptions of oral accounts, and I believe that most were considered to be true retellings of real events.”
“Really?”
“But people accepted everything, even those most outlandish parts.”
Brad thought for a minute. “Well, I suppose that people took each other at their word, right? Before recordings could be made, there was certain artistic license in storytelling and those fabrications became amplified over time. I mean, if you grew up believing that paranormal things happened all around you, then maybe you would be more open to buying into things that your friends and neighbors told you too.”
“Exactly!” Sariah said. “And what put an end to that?”
Brad looked up at the sky. The first stars were starting to come out. The answer was as obvious as the night sky. “The accumulation of knowledge, I suppose. When people discovered the source of thunder, they no longer needed to attribute it to a god. As people discovered how sexual reproduction worked and how illnesses were spread with germs, they didn’t need to spiritualize those medical facts.”
“In other words?” she asked. When he didn’t answer right away, she asked, “What would you call the rigorous study of natural phenomena?”
“Science?”
“Yes. We started to look at the world through a lens of repeatable experiments. That approach opened a valve that drained all the mystery from the world. It grounded us down to the basics and then people started building up fundamental truth, one atom at a time.”
“How does this relate to what we’re doing wrong today?”
Sariah turned up her hands to the sky.
“The universe pressed a massive reset button on our whole construction, and we’re trying to pick up the very same tools without examination. We’re falling right back into the same old patterns without even a moment of thought about what was right and what was wrong.”
Brad furrowed his brow and exhaled.
“That’s not precisely true. We’ve taken important lessons from the scars that billions of people left on this planet. We’re not going to repeat the mistakes of the industrial revolution. Even what Mike is doing right now—he could have chosen to add sulfur to the fuel so that it wouldn’t grow bacteria. That’s the way that fuel was refined seventy-five years ago. But, even though his scale is very small, he is looking for ways to produce environmentally conscious fuel.”
“To what end?”
“So that we can all live and thrive,” Brad said. “Petroleum based fuels are still the best for concentrating energy into a small space. With that we can have airplanes and vehicles that can travel a thousand miles in a day.”
“And that’s all good,” Sariah said. “But why not take the opportunity to reinvest in what humans lost with the advent of science?”
“Like what?”
“Everything else.”
Mike came back to the table, carrying a tray of cookies.
Sariah and Brad both took one, biting into them and smiling at the same time. The light was fading fast and the bugs were starting to come out. Mike leaned over and lit a candle that was scented to drive away the mosquitoes.
“Has she broken your brain yet?” Mike asked.
Brad shook his head. “No. Just some lively after-dinner conversation. I’ve heard that people used to do this all the time before TV came in and erased everyone’s brain.”
Mike laughed.
“She must not have gotten to the good part yet. Get to the good part, Sariah.”
Sariah rolled her eyes.
“Seriously,” Mike said. “I love this part.”
Sariah leaned forward, looked Brad in the eyes, and said, “What if the two things are related, but not in the way that you think?”
“Which two things?”
“Science and the paranormal.”
“Science is how things work, and paranormal events are things that defy explanation, right? I would say that paranormal things are simply occurrences that haven’t been explained yet.”
“That’s the science-centric way of looking at it, yes. But what if science itself is causing paranormal stuff to not happen?”
“Huh?” Brad asked.
Mike gave him a broad smile and raised his eyebrows. “This is where it gets fun.”
Sariah’s face was still perfectly serious.
“What if the reason that strange stuff doesn’t happen is because we’re so busy trying to explain everything?”
“You’re suggesting that inexplicable things
would happen if we didn’t try to explain things?”
“Exactly. Think about it this way—if we stopped trying to put everything in order, we might finally be able to see that nothing has ever been in order. It was all trying to stay out of order, but it was constrained by our ability to comprehend.”
“What’s the point of that?” Brad asked.
“Maybe there is power that we all posses but we’re unable to tap into because we have willed it out of existence.”
“Certainly someone would have discovered that by now. There were billions of people on the planet before. Some of them didn’t believe in science, right? There were tons of religious and political zealots who were perfectly willing to cast aside logic in order to appease their dogma.”
“But collectively, they were all dragged along with the rest of us,” Sariah said. “Did you know any of those zealots who were so committed to their views that they refused to use a flush toilet or a cellphone?”
“No, but you don’t have to understand something in order to use it.”
“You don’t have to understand it, but you have to believe in it.”
Brad studied her for a moment.
“So, if there were enough people who didn’t believe in cellphones…”
Sariah finished his idea. “Then maybe they wouldn’t have worked. Maybe if enough people still believed a witch could put a hex on a person…”
It was Brad’s turn to finish the thought. “Then maybe witches would still have power?”
“Right,” Sariah said.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s all very Peter Pan and Tinker Bell, you know? If we believe then she lives.”
“That’s not exactly it,” Mike said. “It’s more like, if nobody disbelieves in Tinker Bell, then she is free to exist. Don’t think of it as investing belief in anything particular. Think of it as divesting anything too constrained.”
“Okay?” Brad said.
“This is why I love engineers,” Sariah said. “They’re willing to go along with anything for long enough to see if it works. When I worked as a scientist, everyone was entrenched in their own narrow ideas.”
“I thought science was about questioning everything,” Brad said.
“It was more about questioning everyone else,” Sariah said.
They all laughed.
“Are you sure you don’t want this window closed?” Sariah asked. “It can get pretty cool here at night.”
“Don’t you dare,” Brad said. “Back at home, Romie and Lisa insist that we keep all the windows shut at night. They say that the breeze from the ocean gives them morning migraines. I’m looking forward to one more cool night before I head back.”
“Okay,” Sariah said. “There are extra blankets in this chest if you need them.”
Brad turned down the comforter and then sat on the edge of the bed to begin untying his shoes. One was easy and the other was hard. He had difficulty bending one knee enough to reach his shoe. He caught Sariah peeking at him through the corner of his eye.
They were all getting older. It seemed really strange to think that after all they had been through, their fate was the same as everyone else who had ever lived. It felt incongruous that the survivors of multiple apocalyptic events would simply grow old and weary, and then die.
“Goodnight, Brad,” she said, moving toward the door.
“Hey, Sariah?”
She paused, turning back with her hand on the door.
He had trouble finding a way to phrase his question so it wouldn’t sound patronizing.
“What inspired you to start being so… philosophical about everything?”
She blushed and looked down. “You’ve probably had an earful of Ashley’s theories, right?”
“Of course. Every day she brings up some new idea or discovery. I’m pleased that she has found something to throw herself into. She was always such a tremendously bright kid. She really takes after her father.”
Sariah nodded.
“What do you think our ancestors would have said about the red spot on the moon?”
Brad tilted his head and shrugged. “We don’t have to guess. Ashley has done a ton of research. Hindus believed that the moon was a god and that Ganesh turned him red to signify good luck. More locally, the Algonquian people also thought it was good luck. In the Christian Bible, it was seen as a portent of apocalypse.”
“But they were talking about a red hue, like in fall or during an eclipse. That’s very different from what we’re seeing now. We can’t blame what we’re seeing on anything atmospheric.”
“True,” Brad said. “Spoken like a real scientist, by the way. Still, I think the reaction from ancient people would have been the same. They were very self-centered, you know? Anything different, like a comet, eclipse, or a change in the planets, was seen as a good or bad omen. They all thought that one god or another was trying to communicate through those phenomena.”
“And what do you think?” Sariah asked.
“I think that our knowledge of the universe continues to expand. If something proves to be a threat, we will deal with it. Right now, extinction remains our biggest threat. We barely have enough people in the world to sustain the viability of our species. If we go throwing people beyond the Outpost to chase ghosts…”
“Yeah, I’ve heard the arguments,” Sariah said.
“And you don’t believe them?”
“I’m in complete agreement,” she said. “Believe me, if I could have kids, I would. But I’m growing less sure that the scientific approach to these problems is the best approach.”
“Right or wrong, science was responsible for the greatest prosperity our species ever knew.”
“And look at where it got us,” Sariah said.
“That’s hardly our fault,” Brad said. He was beginning to regret starting this conversation. Talking to intriguing people had become Brad’s greatest source of entertainment, and Sariah was certainly intriguing, but it had been a long day and Brad was exhausted.
“Isn’t it? As far as we know from what has been pieced together, the organism tried to colonize this planet before, in the time of the dinosaurs, right?”
“Multiple people say that they have recovered that memory from the symbols, yes.”
“And, as far as we know, the reason why it was almost successful this time was because man had tamed so much of the planet, creating roads, pastures, and an enormous amount of biomass.”
“Sure.”
“So, maybe our prosperity as a species is precisely what led us to this calamity. If you hit your thumb with a hammer, wouldn’t you put down the hammer for a minute to evaluate things?”
“Maybe. Unless it was raining and I needed shelter right away.”
Sariah nodded.
“You look tired.”
“I am,” Brad said.
She said goodnight again and shut the door behind herself. As tired as he was, it took Brad a long time to fall asleep.
Chapter 3: Ashley
Ashley came down the stairs and perked up when she smelled the tomatoes cooking. In the summer, they almost always ate fresh food directly from the garden. Ashley loved it when they had winter food in the summer. Pasta with tomato sauce was definitely winter food. The reason for the treat occurred to her and she spun around, looking for their guest.
“Corinna!” Ashley said, running to the woman. They hugged for as long as Corinna allowed. Ashley gave her a peck on the cheek too, even though Corinna tried to pull away. “Are those new?”
Corinna took a moment to understand and then she reached up to take out one of her earrings. She handed Ashley the biggest diamond she had ever seen.
“Yes, I just found them a month ago. They were in a safe in a house in Donnelly. It took Liam a month to get the thing open.”
“How is he?” Ashley asked.
“Good. He’s doing well.”
They both turned at the sound of more feet coming down the stairs. Jim and Janelle descended t
o come see the visitor. The kids both ran to Corinna and she had to tolerate more hugs.
“Go help Aunt Lisa,” Ashley said.
“It’s your turn,” Janelle said.
“No, it’s my turn to clean up. You go help set up.”
Janelle took out her frustration on her brother. They fought between themselves as they headed for the kitchen.
“Romie said we were having company. I just assumed that Brad would be back early.”
“He’s not here?”
“No,” Ashley said. “He’s up near Donnelly, working on the refinery or something.”
Corinna nodded. “Always busy.”
“He says it keeps him young,” Ashley said. “What brings you down here? I thought you were exploring the mountains.”
“We were,” Corinna said. “The expedition hit some snags. There was some flooding at some point that took out a bunch of roads. It’s impossible to get through most of that area on the ground with any equipment. When they decided to continue on foot, I decided that my part of the trip was done. Besides, I was given another task.”
“Yeah?” Ashley asked. Her forehead wrinkled with confusion. As far as she knew, Corinna didn’t take orders from anyone.
“Dinner!” Jim called from the other room.
They passed through the kitchen to the dining room. Normally, Brad, Lisa, and Romie sat at the kitchen table and the kids sat at the bar. Ashley hated that arrangement. It put her in charge of keeping the peace between Jim and Janelle while the adults got to have a real conversation. But, with company, they all sat at the big table. Romie sat between the young kids. They didn’t dare to even make faces at each other with Romie between them.
For a while, the food took all their attention. Lisa loved to cook, and she had put together spaghetti with a red sauce and roasted vegetables.
“So what’s this new mission that brings you to the coast?” Ashley asked Corinna.
“Just an errand. Nothing big,” Corinna said. She shot Ashley a look that told her that the subject was closed for the moment. Corinna was older than her father, but Ashley had always felt very close to her, almost like they were sisters.