by Td Barnes
This amalgam of scientists, engineers, military, and the ranching and mining community of Beatty challenged any academic theorists or researchers majoring in or maintaining a social studies curriculum on the human society. It created an extremely challenging and integrated study for anyone practicing psychology within the mountain. The residents of the mountain, even within this short period had adapted to a new culture that fit their environment. Incredible bonding occurred where completely different individuals created special friendships with one another.
The ideology of the residents covered the entire political spectrum. The farmers of Amargosa Valley leaned mostly left wing, their ideology being Populist, Social Democracy.
The ranchers from Beatty and the military primarily leaned to the right, politically, as conservative Republicans.
While the farmers, ranchers, and the military did each have a small percentage that leaned towards the opposite political party, the academia and scientists considered themselves very liberal Democrats, confirming Bradley’s opinion of them. He and most of the military at the mountain believed that smart and talented conservatives did not hang around for a Ph.D.; they escaped the ivory tower and went into the business world or the military.
The academia, male engineers, and scientists preferred to grow long hair, beards and wear earrings whereas the military did not. The farmers and ranchers did not go for the long hair or beards. However, they did not bother to get a haircut regularly or shave daily like the military.
The academia, engineers, scientists, and military surprisingly shared a higher level of social skills, though the military did not always practice such profession. The military personnel played grab-ass more than any of the others and proved to be more devoted to the religion of them all.
The female gender affiliated with academia, engineers, and scientists tended to stand aloof, hesitant to participate with the others. However, many of those affiliated with the military had grown up on farms and ranches, so the farmer, the rancher women, and they acted very similar and proved to be much more social. Overall, the women at the mountain proved themselves more pragmatic, risk-averse, and, unburdened by testosterone, less bellicose. These truisms did not hold with Mayor Robinson or to a certain extent, Stacey Bradley, or Colonel Barlow, whose very nature required that they be in charge.
The ranchers and farmers proved to be the least apt to use profanity in their everyday conversations. The academia, engineers, and scientists made the F word a regular part of their vocabulary, whereas the military used the F-word, but more as a profanity.
Bradley rated being one of the worse offenders. This posed a problem for him being a viable candidate to play big brother to anyone. Everyone considered an inadvertent slip of the tongue with him merely being the Colonel and not as a role model. One did as he said — not as he did.
Bradley still distanced himself to prevent fraternization between the others and him. This, according to the scuttlebutt, had earned him several nicknames already — the Ice Man, the Lone Ranger, and His Highness. That suited him to a tee. While he remained The Colonel, he maintained control.
The troops felt enamored by his presence because of his being a stickler for military protocol and regimentation. He did not strive for it, but his quiet charisma made him popular with the civilians also. Despite the nicknames, everyone considered him a monolith, a robust and fair leader standing alone and willing to delegate authority, but one who always retained responsibility.
He loved to sit back and listen to their exchanges despite his appearance of distancing himself from the residents of the mountain. He did not like his troops becoming potty-mouths like the scientists but accepted it. He especially hated to hear a female expressing foul language. He remained old-fashioned that way, not realizing his sometimes being a worse offender than those he frowned upon.
He glanced at his watch and realized his running late for an appointment slightly four miles inside the mountain. He tidied up his breakfast debris from the table, refilled his coffee mug, and headed to the parked manual handcar for his ride to the backside of a mountain near the south portal. He planned to visit the photosynthesis garden and then the livestock section where, per the morning brief, one of the goats had birthed twins during the night.
His schedule following the photosynthesis visit included his inspecting another place equally exciting to his colony, a maternity ward put together by the doctors for the arrival of the colony’s first newborn. The prospects of new growth, whether plants, animal, or human, had certainly boosted morale after the depressing events watched by everyone two weeks earlier during the brief visit from the outside world.
He felt glad to have no one accompanying him. Pumping the handle to propel the car provided his exercise and going alone provided him an opportunity to think while avoiding distractions.
Bradley always found it difficult to plot or think out complex solutions to a problem while sitting at a desk in a quiet environment. He preferred being on his feet, walking, even if it amounted to merely pacing around in his office.
His mind always functioned best while he sat in a noisy hotel lobby, the waiting section of a busy airport, or beside a noisy piece of machinery where his mind entirely focused to think out any problem. His saying, "I am fixin to kick some horse turds" meant that he needed space to think something out. Perhaps a throwback to his youthful days on a secluded ranch in Texas? Only a psychiatrist could come up with an answer to this question, and it would be a cold day in hell before Bradley would sit down for a session with a shrink.
Former Starquest Aerospace botanist, Dr. Kathy Sanders turned off one of the large drums in the photosynthesis compartment and started working with the vegetation in it while chatting with four preteen children standing close by observing her work.
She looked up when Bradley walked into the large alcove, this being the first occasion for him to tour this vital part of the mountain's survival should they stay extended beyond their store of supplies.
Bradley stopped to watch two more drums rotating beside the one shut down. A long bright light shined on the young plants inside each drum. A closed circuit, spray system on the backside of the drum sprayed plant food onto the roots of the plants. It acted surprised to see plants growing without dirt around their roots.
Some large fish tanks a little farther back contained about a foot of aerated water completely covered with algae. Bradley saw that the water also contained some type of aquatic life.
Sanders kept Bradley waiting while she finished her tasks in the drum and started its rotation again. Finished, she gave him a happy smile on her freckled face while wiping her hands on a rag. She pitched the rag aside and joined him. The children followed.
Sanders’ radiate smile played an infectious role with his chronically worried frown acquired since arriving at the mountain. It disappeared from his weather-beaten face that broke into a like grin at this botanist also from Texas. She reminded him of Stacey at her age. "Welcome to my little world of nirvana,” she said. She proudly swept her hand around to indicate the entire alcove.
He continued scrutinizing the alcove. “Doctor Sanders, give me a rundown about this."
"Yes, sir,” Sanders said, assuming a professional demeanor to discuss a solemn function of the mountain’s subterranean food chain.
"We have what we call a 'closed-loop life support system.' We designed this for space, so our water is completely recycled in a vacuum system. It sucks up the mist and water droplets in a weightless environment.”
She continued to explain ecology, the laws of thermodynamics, and the sun’s part of the biological photosynthesis process to form organic compounds from carbon dioxide and water.
“If you notice a noxious or obnoxious smell in here, it is because plants smell bad if kept in darkness. The plants take our carbon dioxide and convert it to carbon, which builds organic molecules. They then release oxygen into the atmosphere for us to breathe. If you will notice the lubbers above you, this is whe
re we vent the oxygen. We would draw the oxygen off in space for circulation and reuse. The lubbers keep us from circulating the odor."
Kathy’s presentation astonished him. "Why this is like a giant laboratory garden, or I guess it could be better described a scientific garden,” he exclaimed. “Are you saying that our oxygen will have a bad smell if we must use what you are producing?"
“It would be for a while, but one becomes accustomed to it like I have the feedlot smell of the animals next door. I suppose we could invent and circulate some artificial odor pleasant to the human smell senses.”
Kathy led Bradley to the fish tanks observed earlier. Pointing towards the tanks, she continued.
"Usually one envisions a closed life-support system being one based upon the exchange of metabolic products among human beings and lower forms of life. The heart of our system is these photosynthetic exchangers where we suspend these colonies of algae in the water. Exposing them to light causes them to produce oxygen and take up carbon dioxide produced by us here at the mountain. The liquid and solid wastes provide nutrients for the algae colony. We have food that comes from dried algae if we ever need it. It is about sixty percent protein, twenty percent fat, and twenty percent carbohydrate, vitamins, and amino acids. Also, if we ever lose the ventilation system of the tunnel, we can produce enough oxygen here to support a portion of the complex.”
Bradley flashed a smile of approval when seeing the cross training of the children for the photosynthesis project. The colony might still need this source of food the first year or so on the outside where agriculture would experience a slow start from this nuclear winter.
For the next thirty minutes, Kathy proved to be an excellent sounding board for some of his ideas on this subject. They talked about training others. However, when he mentioned his name, Bradley sensed Kathy and Dr. Bruno de Reamy, one of the psychiatrists, being crossways with each other.
"Colonel about Dr. Raemy, I have a feeling something is bothering him. He hasn't been acting his carefree self lately,” she said.
Bradley recalled seeing Doctor Raemy acting strangely in a mess but thought nothing of it considering the other odd ducks in his care. "When did you first notice this?" He asked.
"Only since the raiding party. It came on gradually."
"I will check into it."
Bradley congratulated the children on their interest and left the photosynthesis bay to return to his quarters to check on Stacey before wandering through the tunnel to the nursery. He located her in the children’s gaming room playing an electronic game with the 8-year old daughter of one of the sergeants. She saw him and waved. Noticing that he wanted something, she handed her controls to another girl and stepped out of the cubicle.
“That little shit cleaned my plow,” she said laughing. “What’s up?”
Bradley chuckled. “We’re getting old, mama. My computer guru is 13 years old.” Both laughed. “Have you noticed anything different about Dr. Raemy?" He asked.
"It's strange you mentioned this. Dr. Raemy has been in the recreation alcove every time I have passed by for the past two days. If he is not doing some weird robotics exercise, he is sitting in a trance, mumbling some self-loathing chant like a guru. It is like a strange religion. I don’t know if he has become talismanic, believing he has some magic power or hedonistic, believing that pleasure is the only intrinsic good."
He thought for a moment before replying. "Well, whatever it is — he is fucked up in the head. For Christ’s sake, Stace — he is our friggin shrink. I believe I should get some medical advice on this. Kathy — Dr. Sanders says he’s been acting strange ever since the recon party paid us a visit.”
The news about Doctor Ramey’s odd behavior continued to bother her after Bradley left. With his psychiatry office only two alcoves from her, she decided to check on him. She entered his small compartment in the medical alcove and found him sitting at his desk, but not doing anything but staring at a medical publication.
Doctor Reamy stood tall and thin with the physique of an aging basketball player and dark caterpillar eyebrows beneath a shock of matching hair. Merely his Abe Lincoln appearance made it understandable the Colonel being impatient with him.
“Doctor, may we talk?” She asked.
“Certainly,” he said with a weak smile.
“Some of us have noticed that something is bothering you. Is there something that you want to share with Colonel Bradley or me?”
He nodded slightly affirmatively. “I fear that I have let the colonel down,” he said. “Being a psychiatrist, I cannot agree with his expectations.”
“What is the problem?” She asked with a tone of concern.
“Early on I recognized that several of the scientists and specialists are experiencing depression from being sheltered away from their work and passions. Many of them have never experienced the adolescence struggles of ordinary children. Their parents protected many of them from the real world to keep them focused on an education and career that in most cases required a doctorate,” he said passionately.
Stacey thought she knew his heading with this and immediately her husband’s oft-stated opinion of Ph.D.s came to mind. “What is the problem?” She asked.
“These people need treatment. The colonel expects too much from everyone.”
Stacey’s pity for the doctor evaporated instantly — rage surged through her mind. She thought. “What is this pussy doing here at the mountain? More importantly, how in the hell did he get chosen to be the mountain’s psychiatrist.”
“Doctor, I am glad that you and I are having this talk instead of it being between the colonel and you,” she said calmly. “I am afraid that your beliefs and those of the colonel are like oil and water. They will not mix. I know the colonel. He would blow up at the thought that he has a Doctor Phil on his staff. You must realize for your sake and everyone else that we are not able to care for anyone handicapped to the point they cannot carry their load. Believe me; it hurt the colonel very deeply to must screen the handicapped from coming here to Jackass Flats. He dealt a death sentence to everyone he turned away from coming here to the mountain. To condemn an innocent child to death because of its handicap or medical needs, or a loving couple because of their age must be the most difficult decision ever for a leader. He must live with that every day for the rest of his life. You must suck it up, doctor and heal yourself. This also must be your remedy for your patients. Believe me; anyone including you becoming a burden on the rest of the survivors here will face eviction from the mountain. That is the only way the others can survive. It is harsh, but you must accept that we are living in a situation where the rule is survival of the fittest.”
“But, that is Darwinism,” the doctor replied.
“That is our circle of life” she responded. “Speaking of the circle of life, I am leaving shortly to visit the animals, and would like for you to meet me there within the next couple of hours.”
Stacey had automatically assumed the responsibility of dealing with the social aspects of the civilian sector of the population the first day at the mountain, a responsibility that came with being the commander’s wife. Neither Robinson nor the commander needed the headache of dealing with domestic problems along with their responsibilities of a much higher level.
Dealing with other people came naturally with Stacey. Most recognized in her an honest, compassionate, yet stern leadership that transformed both the spoiled and the inexperienced into independent and responsible individuals caring for themselves for the first time. Her tactic started simple and low key by her enforcing an esteem-building requirement that everyone, children to professors, make their own bed first thing in the morning and otherwise maintain their area. She required the same adherence to their appearance and hygiene, placing a high emphasis on their competing in demonstrating self-pride. Thanks to her, the residents made it a contest where they competed to be the best role model. Gaining Stacey’s approval equated to receiving a badge of honor.
Aft
er coaxing the children into attending classes, she had recruited teachers from those individuals possessing the needed knowledge that they could pass on to future generations. By the third week at the mountain, the sergeant major’s wife, Barbara, and three others who had taught school before the EMP joined the list of top scholars in the nuclear, electronics, physics, and other similar skills to teach the youth and one another.
Teaching and learning soon became something the students, professors, and doctorates sought and enjoyed. This substituted interest came about because of the curfew on video games and absence of extracurricular activity that existed before the EMP. The key to this success came from her making it fun and a competitive acquisition of knowledge.
Stacey, like her husband, led by setting an example. She enjoyed visiting the livestock and agriculture section near the south portal, a throwback of her having grown up on a ranch. This became her private retreat from her responsibilities, a place where she could remove any social barriers at the mountain and any hint of nobility status. An example was her appearing in the goat pen to show the cleanup detail how to remove the waste and process it into fertilizer for the plants.
Many of the residents now visited the animal menagerie much like a visit to a petting zoo. Working with the animals provided the inhabitants of the mountain a missing part of their life.
The Animal Park and Bradley allowing the small dogs and the animals quickly proved to be a great emotional release for many. Allowing the children to borrow a goat to play with made it fun for all, especially when they sneaked one into their parent’s alcove.
Both Stacey and veterinary doctor Henry Higgins heard the approach of the handcar and walked to the entrance of the kidding pen to greet it. "Good afternoon, Dr. de Raemy,” Stacey said. Dr. Higgins and Dr. Reamy also exchanged greetings.
Dr. de Raemy hopped off the handcar showing puzzlement on his face.
"I thought you might enjoy witnessing the birth of one of our animals at the mountain,” she said.