David Palmer - Emergence

Intend just that. Tomorrow morning, though; not now. Tired. Disappointed. Probably still vexed, too, if had energy. Even Terry subdued — for him. Perhaps senses mood. Perhaps just bad day: too long, too many expectations. Too much letdown.

Never mind. Tomorrow is another day — Pollyanna lives …!

Good morning, Posterity! Night’s sound sleep; huge, well-balanced, delicious breakfast (prepared by gourmet chef, with — or despite — intensive assistance of manic twin [laughing hugely, grabbing at everything in sight]) produced usual result: Energy, optimism restored — along with independence:

Who needs Peter Bell…!

Plenty of fish in sea; Tarzan File full of alternatives — or failing that, might well be more fun to go out, locate, stalk, capture indigenous AB buck in native habitat; then housebreak, domesticate, teach rudiments of coherent thought, civilized speech. Why not? Might work. (And if not, gently separate cervical vertebrae [to discourage kiss-and-tell; wouldn’t want to acquire “reputation”], throw back, try again.)

True, simpler to find AAs, settle again into secure little-girl/student rôle; allow others to make important decisions, feed, clothe, house, protect. (Sometimes wearisome, being master of own destiny. Worse than being genius. Lonely, too. Need hug.)

Enough! Used up whole year’s sniveling ration yesterday. Brace up chin! Square off shoulders! Forward ho!

So this morning, following breakfast, scrounged campus (carrying crowbar, sledge hammer; implements intrinsic, these days, to serious pursuit of scrounging trade); located large-scale U.S. map, plotted AA locations, connected with straight lines.

And discovered predictable trend: All grouped about top-line schools, leading research centers. Harvard, M.I.T., Johns Hopkins, etc., on East Coast. UCLA, U. of California (Davis), etc., on West. Kansas State U., U. of Minnesota, U. of Colorado, U. of Illinois, U. of Chicago, etc., etc., about Midwest. Plus AEC, NASA, JPL facilities all over country. Appears nation’s recent progress muchly traceable to AAs. (Hope didn’t also figure in downfall.)

Okay. So much for short-term strategy: Hunt proceeds hence by-the-numbers.

But what about long-term? Good point. What if, at last, search comes up dry? As might…

Indeed — what if …? Not most comfortable premise for dyed-in-wool Pollyanna to contemplate, but valid. Every coin has two sides. Rankest stupidity to ignore possibility might lose toss; fail to plan for exigencies lurking on dark side.

Very well. Reflecting as pessimist, grimly: Wise to leave notes all over, wherever might stop, pass through, visit; where other survivors (of whatever stripe) might find. True, probably — certainly — come to attention of itinerant ABs. Can’t be helped.

But so what? Candy Smith-Foster, youngest-ever wearer of Sixth Degree Black Belt, uneasy at prospect of meeting strangers? Even potentially dangerous strangers? Yes. (But pretty potentially dangerous own self; harbor no genuine doubts about ability to cope with aberrant behavior as necessary. Will reach peaceful understanding, accommodation with fellow survivors; will live in altruistic, gentle harmony with neighbors, whomever may be, whatever background. Or else.)

College utilities still working; administration building well stocked with modern communications media marvels: electric typewriters, photocopiers, etc. Convenient opportunity; shall take advantage, spend next few days here; compose most utterly bare-bones, boiled-down condensation possible: message to leave about countryside during travels.

Content giving pause. Should identify self — but within limits. (No point, for instance, mentioning age, sex, dimensions. Teacher’s caution firmly in mind; well aware that whatever response in numbers, substantial percentage bound to be maladjusted. No point slanting advertising toward weirdos.) Should describe resources, advantages of hometown area, farms (omitting shelter mention; my little secret for now, until familiar with recruitees, confident of intentions). Must include invitation to visit, partake in mutual deliberation over whether acceptance into community advantageous both ways.

Have also concluded, after initial hesitation, message must contain explanation of H. sapiens/post hominem situation, etc. Facts, evidence clearly documented; Teacher’s conclusion unaffected by scoffers — but doubt will care much for neighbors lacking minds sufficiently open to appreciate data, understand implications, and (most of all) accept necessity of next step:

Central industry in my community to be AA-type upbringing, education of children (to degree possible in ruined world). All else secondary, supportive. No compulsion, pressure; volunteers only. But dissenters need not apply. Big world; can live elsewhere.

Granted, noble resolve most conveniently parallels own selfish desires (so much to learn!); but if Dark Ages follow collapse of H. sapiens’ civilization, won’t be my fault.

There! Not so tough: Mere three days’ full-time, unremitting labor — writing, rewriting, trimming, condensing, paring, slashing, distilling, rooting out, re-rewriting, etc., etc. — and leaflet complete.

Masterpiece of brevity: single page (legal size, double-sided; uniform 1/10-inch margins top, bottom, left, right; 15-pitch type) says everything necessary in only 5,768 well-chosen words — plus metaphoric extra thousand implied by tiny map sketched at end.

Initial small stock produced on nifty both-sides-at-once Xerox. (Wonderful machine; some benefits of old civilization must be saved-for Posterity — 10,000 copies, three hours!)

Shall affix to doors of food, hardware, sporting goods, clothing stores, etc., as ride along. Pass hundreds every day; been taking local roads rather than interstates. (Esthetic choice; admittedly not logical: Interstates doubtless better condition, easier driving; but somehow lonelier [ said wasn’t logical], more depressing.)

Not terribly original plan, but I forage constantly, almost daily; reasonable inference holds other survivors do likewise. And certainly have generally similar needs, “shop” same places.

Final analysis — becomes question of numbers: Post enough leaflets, bound to catch eye. Somebody’s eye. Someplace. Sometime. Probably.

Tomorrow leave for Boston. Harvard-M.I.T. area, home for five AAs: Herman Smith, Mario Ling, Gayle Kinnart, Theron Parker, Rex Hollister.

Parker, Ling, Smith deeply involved (according to File) in project combining M.I.T.’s space research center, computer center, nuclear reactor, magnetics lab; Harvard’s medical school, biochemical facility, seismographic station. Wouldn’t discuss objective, but spin-off breakthroughs, inventions, products so numerous, administration declined to push it.

Hollister working at Harvard only, but at medical research, anthropology, biophysics, geology, political theory.

Kinnart’s Ph.D.’s in nuclear physics, oceanography, computer science, meteorology, astronautics. Worked when, where, with whom, on what she chose. Taught, researched, invented at will. Delighted in shaking up Establishment’s institutions, the crustier the better; C.L.E.P.ed Juris Doctor in spare time, over organized opposition of Bar (disapproved failure to utilize proper law-school channels). Sued pro se, won, obtained J.D. by Supreme Court decree. Also holds Seventh Degree Black Belt. (If consciously, actively seeking role model, girl could do lots worse — hope-she likes me.)

Enough woolgathering. To bed now. Far to go tomorrow; much to do.

But calmly, coolly; optimistically but with caution, discipline. No more paralytic disappointment, hysteria, tears — no matter what. If trail proves cold, will play hand as dealt: Study facts as materialize; proceed logically, efficiently as indicated.