Winter Kill - War With China Has Already Begun

by Gene Skellig

  Patti and Nora gave a detailed report on the inventory of long-term food supplies, hydroponic food production, and the contribution of eggs, poultry, swine and milk products from the barn facility. They then detailed the losses due to cans that would ultimately fail the botulism and other tests, factored in a gradual decline in food production as hydroponic equipment eventually wore out, and applied a factor to account for caloric-degradation of long term food supplies over time.

  “So as you see on this graph, as of today, here, seven months into the nuclear winter with seventy mouths to feed,” said Patti as she pointed on the bar chart projected on the wall, “and this level of food production from the indoor farming operation, we only have enough calories for another three years.”

  “But last month, you showed how we have enough food for eight years!” interrupted Danny. “What’s changed?”

  “Last month we hadn’t done a detailed inventory, and went with Casey’s receipts for the bulk orders he had put away, not what we could actually inspect and count in the DFR and cool storage areas. But now that we’ve done the inventory, we’ve had to deduct ninety million calories for the discrepancy. We’ve also expanded our obligations in terms of support of the Ring families, have seventy members of the HOTH now, compared to just fifty last month, and we also have to project food used in support of trading at the Errington Market. We also deducted fifty million calories for the livestock, as last month we all agreed to plan to keep them alive to build up livestock after the winter ends, although technically they are available as a contingency reserve. So that’s the hundred and forty million missing calories. - Not to mention this assumes stable food production and that there will be no losses from our food stores,” Nora added with emphasis.

  “OK, I see now,” Danny said. “So where’s that leave us?”

  “We have to cut down food commitments somehow. Or we have to find a way to increase food production, particularly for vegetables or other sources of vitamins. Hopefully those honeybees we got last month will help, but it’s too soon to say. By the way, have you all read about what to do when the 10 new queens swarm out to start new hives? Better get ready, the swarm will happen some time next week. It’ll take us a few days to settle them down after that, before we sell off most of the new hives. We’ve got sting medications and EpiPens ready in the infirmary, but if we follow the instructions, there won’t be a problem.

  Anyhow, back to the problem. We have to deal with the nutrition problem, as that’s what’s screwing up our burn rates.”

  “Let’s table the discussion on caloric calculations for the moment and focus on the nutrition problem,” Casey suggested. The HOTH operated by consensus as much as possible, but when Casey spoke, people listened. He usually kept his mouth shut while others ran the meetings, and only got involved when it was necessary. With the 46% stake he had in what was once his own facility, Casey was the majority shareholder in a joint venture with the other residents, and essentially Chairman of the Board.

  All the other inhabitants of the HOTH had each been given either 0.5% or 1% ownership stake in what had evolved from private property into a collectively owned enterprise. Casey had done this for strategic reasons. He believed that each new member, adding expertise and potential, improved the odds for survival for his loved ones. It didn’t hurt that another 7.5% was now held by his extended family members, and another 8% was held by long-time personal friends. Having a stake in the facility provided the HOTH members with a very real sense of ownership, and ensured their loyalty to the organization.

  “OK”, continued Nora, “because of the un-forecast obligation to supply essential vitamins and nutrition to the Ring program, rather than just bulk calories, we are going through the canned fruits and vegetables too fast. This will get even worse in future years as the nutritional value of the canned goods decays, resulting in even faster consumption rates.

  The top level of our “nutrition pyramid” will disappear faster then the lower, more basic levels. This is a problem because while we may not starve to death, we’ll have long-term problems like malnutrition and increased susceptibility to illnesses.”

  Casey could see where this was going, and exchanged a knowing look with Tanya. Seeing the calm, confident expression on Casey’s face, Tanya also relaxed. She was one of the only people who knew where the missing calories had gone. She also knew about the caches of Roughnecks that Casey had cemented under the floors of the HOTH.

  Tanya had stuck her head into the DFR and had seen Casey and Danny transferring hundreds of those rectangular EZ-Store bins into the large hidden chamber at the back end of the DFR about a month before the war. She saw lots of boxes with the orange labels that told her that the boxes contained Mason jars. She saw other boxes that must have held canned goods. She suspected that the Mason jars were from Casey’s visits to that berry farm in Coombs. Tanya understood that the secret supply would be enough to cover the shortfall in calories, but would it also cover the shortfall in vitamins? She wondered.

  Casey hadn’t known that supporting the Ring families was depleting the essential nutritional sources so much faster than planned for. He would have to give that some thought. For now he’d keep silent and let the group work through the issues.

  “Can’t we increase internal food production?”

  “Not that much, Adam, but it’s a good idea. We’re limited by the energy budget as it is. Geoff, what do you think?” JJ asked Geoff, the leader of the “green thumb” group.

  “That’s right. We’re maxed out in terms of lighting, but the current levels of production are sustainable. Unless we can get our hands on another wind power system and create some more growing spaces, we can’t expand the growing operation.”

  “What about fish?” asked Gwen, JJ’s daughter. “Couldn’t we start a fish farm? Or go fishing at the lakes?”

  “We could try that, but I don’t know if it would be worth the effort,” replied Patti, and then followed that line of thinking. “Fish would add valuable nutrition to our diets, including omega-oils, and make for a bit more variety in the meals. What do you think, guys, would fishing be possible?”

  “We don’t have any fishing gear. And wouldn’t they be full of toxins from the fallout?” asked Danny.

  “The lakes up towards Mt. Arrowsmith wouldn’t have gotten any fallout from Comox. So they should be relatively clean, the fish should be fit for human consumption,” Said Zlata.

  “And we could add fishing gear to the Wish List for the scavenging and trading parties. Come to think of it, I think there was fishing gear all over the floor at the Canadian Tire store when we looked it over,” said Danny.

  “We could send a team back to Canadian Tire when we do our trade-run to the Community Center next week,” said JJ.

  “And we can research the dietary contribution of the fish in more detail, and come up with tests for toxins,” added Nora.

  “Can we plan a fishing tasking into the rotation?” asked Manfred. “I’d love to take my boys out fishing.”

  “OK, JJ, how about you and Manfred plan a fishing trip to the upper lakes for next week, using whatever we can salvage in the mean time? We should also plan to swing by that trout farm out on Highway 4; it would be on the way. Besides, it’s on the Intelligence Request List anyhow. It could be worth looking over, now that we’re looking at starting a fishing program.”

  “What about increasing our trading activities to supplement our food stores?” asked JJ, continuing with the food supply topic. “Can’t we start spending gold now?”

  “No. It’s far too soon to use the gold, other than where absolutely necessary. We have to stick to bartering and trading the scavenged goods. It’s absolutely essential not to give anybody reason to think that we represent a treasure trove for the taking,” Danny interjected, beating Casey to the punch.

  After a few minor domestic items, the weekly meeting concluded with Mr. Skinner and Zlata’s updates.

  Exterior Radiation had fallen to on
e roentgen per hour. Radiation levels in the HOTH were 1/32nd as much due to the five or more halving thicknesses. This meant that the danger posed by radiation was negligible, as long as cumulative exposure was limited.

  The weather continued to be dominated by the more southerly jet-stream. The extremely cold northerly winds would keep the temperature around minus twenty for the foreseeable future, but also keep the helical wind power-plants working at full power.

  The meeting broke up with excitement over the upcoming fishing trip that Manfred and JJ were organizing. But Casey was thinking to himself of a way to reduce the number of animals without reducing the viability of the herds. Perhaps they could make some deals with some of the Ring families to build up their own indoor farms now that the radiation levels were much lower.

  Because of the stockpiling drive just before the war, when Casey had piled up all those hay bales to provide radiation protection for farm animals, he was able to save many of the local farmer’s best animals from the fallout from Comox. Casey had contacted Moonstruck Farm and others in the area, and offered to shelter as many of their animals as they could drive up to the HOTH, until radiation levels fell to safe levels. In return, he had accepted 10% of the dairy cows, pigs, cattle and horses for his services. The farmers had balked at first, but then quickly agreed once they realized that giving a few animals to Casey while saving many more was far better than losing them all to radiation. Most of the lucky animals to be saved were pregnant females. They were the most valuable, and also the most vulnerable. Casey took his share of the calves, foals, and piglets that were popping out of the livestock during their confinement, as it was nearing the end of the birthing season.

  The dairy cows, young bulls, stallions, mares, and pigs that Casey picked up in the deals were added to the horse and cow inventory from the Callaghan’s first tentative move into hobby farming. Even after the farmers retrieved their livestock, the rate of consumption was too high. The dozen large animals Casey was left with ate two round hay bales per day out of a stockpile of just 1900. However, if he loaned some of them out to Ring Families to help them build up their own small indoor herds he could reduce their dependency on the HOTH. Otherwise he would have to look at having a few animals butchered at the Errington Market, to right-size his little herd.

  Another Callaghan left the meeting with his mind ablaze with secret plans. Fourteen year-old Justin, Casey’s second youngest child, had been listening intently and had finally found a way to contribute just like an adult. Justin’s idea related to his daily play time outside with the other kids. They made snow forts along the hillside between the HOTH and the area where the orchard had been planted before the war.

  From tonight’s briefing, Justin understood that fruit was important to the adults for vitamins or nutrition or whatever. So on the next day’s outside play time, he took a plastic bag with him and made his own little snow fort on top of where he thought the orchard was buried beneath the snow. While the other kids had their snowball fights and played hide-and seek in the trees on the high side of the HOTH, Justin secretly dug into the snow. He was sure that the snow would be strong enough to be safe. Snow can be very strong if it’s compressed, Justin knew, so he just kept on digging, making a descending ramp that was not quite as steep as a staircase.

  After digging down about six feet, Justin found the first branch. It was bent over dramatically by the snow, but it still held bunches of cherries. The trees were five years old when planted and had grown-in for another two years before the war.

  Justin filled the bag with frozen cherries, then stuffed his pockets. By this time he was soaking wet and cold from the snow that had worked its way down his neck. Suddenly tired after so much digging in the snow he was also becoming increasingly afraid of the tunnel collapsing. The more he looked up the chute, the more claustrophobic he became.

  After climbing out of the tunnel he hid the bag under his parka and headed back to the warmth of the HOTH. He was just in time to hear Granny-G call everybody in for lunch.

  Once inside, Justin hid the cherries under his blankets in his bunk, changed out of his wet clothes and went down for lunch. Granny-G and Grandma Callaghan usually managed the children during lunch hour, getting them into the right frame of mind for the afternoon of schooling. Justin enjoyed school, but couldn’t stop thinking about the big surprise he had in store for everybody. But he was tired and had a runny nose, so it was quite an effort to hang on until the school day ended. He just had to wait a few more hours until the evening meal, when everybody would be together and he could impress them all.

  After school, Justin snuck upstairs with a plastic bowl from the kitchen. He took the cherries to the bathroom to wash, carefully picking out the few spoiled ones. Then he went down and put the bowl of cherries in the center of the main table.

  When the adults were called in for dinner, and the ladies started placing the pasta, sauces and vegetables on the table, Grandma Callaghan was the first to notice the surprise.

  “Where did these come from?” She couldn’t believe her eyes. These weren’t canned cherries, nor were they from a jar. She noticed that the cherries were split, and a bit small. She tried one. It was pulpy, but had a wonderful intense flavor.

  As the adults took their places, they talked excitedly about the cherries. There were no frozen cherries in the food inventory, so it was a big mystery as to where they came from.

  Then Grandma Callaghan started looking at the faces of the children, always wise to their ways. “Have one of you been out picking cherries somewhere?” she asked. Then it dawned on her. “Justin, come over here would you please, my dear.” Justin had been waiting for this moment, when someone noticed him. “Yes, Grandma?” he said, innocently, as he walked proudly up to the main table. His face was as red as the cherries.

  “Are those your cherries?”

  “Nope. They’re for everybody! I picked them from the orchard by making a tunnel.” He glowed in the praise that was heaped on him. Everybody listened as he explained how there were still lots more cherries out there.

  Without destroying his moment of happiness, Justin’s father had to muster a very stern tone. “Justin, you know the rules about tunneling in the snow. No more than half a body-length. Never alone. And never without asking an adult!” Casey began.

  “Yes Papa. But it was safe; the tunnel was a Quinzhee!”

  “But nothing! True, you made a great discovery, but in the future you will abide by the rules all the time. Don’t take any foolish risks. Understood? And I’ve told you before. You don’t make a Quinzhee without an adult.”

  Later that evening when the children were in bed many of the adults gathered around the cooking wood-stove in the kitchen annex. The discussion centered on Justin’s discovery.

  “I would have thought that the snow and freezing-rain would have destroyed those cherries, but they seemed perfectly good to me,” said Granny-G.

  “They were fine. But they had been partly desiccated by the wicking action of the frost,” explained Nora. “It’s kind of like how they prepared grapes for ice-wine in Eastern Canada. They leave them on the vine to freeze and that removes some water from the grapes, making them intensely flavorful. Then they harvest them while still frozen to the vine, and make ice-wine, with that unusual sweetness and delicate flavor. Justin’s cherries have the same characteristics.”

  “So my Bing’s should also be OK?” Granny-G asked, with growing excitement.

  “Yes, in fact Justin’s cherries were Bings, weren’t they?”

  “I think that he got them from the tree on the end, which was one of two Bing’s we planted, so yes,” said Casey.

  “How many trees in your orchard?” asked Patti.

  “I still had twenty four cherry trees, about 18 of them Bing and a half-dozen Reds,” Granny-G said with pride. “And I had 24 Island Plums, 20 Frost Peach and a few Puget Gold’s”

  “What’s a Puget Gold?” asked Nora.

  “It’s a new type of a
pricot, developed by Washington State University a few years back. It grows well in our cool, moist Pacific Northwest climate. Not anywhere near as prodigious as the apricots grown in the Okanagan, but very tasty little ‘cots. But the mainstay of my orchard was the apples. I had fifty Aurora Golden Galas and twenty Ambrosias.”

  “WOW! That’s a lot of fruit! I don’t suppose you have any preserves back at your farm?”

  “Nope. Sorry to say, Danny, I gave up canning a few years ago. The trees I could manage with some part-time laborers and seasonal picking-crews, but canning was just too much work for my arthritic old hands. So what little I had from the summer before last, Casey collected when he and Miles rescued me. I was all out of food. The farm’s a wreck; the snow collapsed it. There’s nothing of value there except, I suppose, the case or so of Certo down in the Cellar – that should be good for years.”

  “What was that Justin said about a Quinzhee?” asked Kevin Neumann, Geoff’s 15-year old son.

  “It’s an Eskimo snow house!” replied his father. “I’ve never seen one. But Casey, isn’t that what the Rangers use as emergency shelters on their Arctic patrols?”

  “That’s right, Geoff. I showed some of the kids and most of the adults how to make them before you got here. The heavy snow-base is perfect for making Quinzhees. All they are is snow caves. But up in Yellowknife, there was usually no more than a foot or so of suitable snow. You had to spend hours piling it up until you had a mound about eight feet tall. You smack the snow with your shovel as you build it up, to compress it. Then, when you have enough piled up, it takes about an hour to dig the inside snow out through the entrance tunnel. It’s normally made just large enough for one or two people. When I did it, it was minus forty C outside, yet with just one candle burning I got it up to plus five inside. They’re very strong. You can even stand on top of one if it’s had a few days to glaze in the sun. It’s perfect for a survival cave as long as you don’t get snowed-in. I should have made sure you knew how to make one, but I guess I forgot about that when you arrived in October,” Casey concluded.