“What other concerns are there?” Carolina asked before I could. She was playing absently with my long hair as she watched out the truck window. It was evident that her questions were born from her curiosity and not in an attempt to annoy me, like before.
“Human and machine,” dad said simply.
“Like the Terminator machine?” I asked somewhat confused. My dad chuckled lightly and Georgia flashed her smile at me.
“No, not really like that,” Georgia told me.
My dad continued by saying, “I mean that nothing is perfect; not even the almighty machine. People are so dependent upon things like electricity and various fuels that they take them for granted. They have a false sense of security about them.”
“Well, we all know that fossil fuels aren't really renewable and that they are a finite resource,” I pointed out.
“We still take them for granted,” Carolina contributed. “After all, we aren't trying to find ways in which to conserve our use of fossil fuels.”
I sat up and looked at Carolina as she spoke. Georgia looked back at us and added, “Even our efforts to migrate towards other fuel sources are half-assed at best.”
“True,” I agreed.
“The fact is that the world is controlled by money and profit. We have the means to change the way we live, but we don't because it's still profitable,” my dad explained. “Unfortunately, we are burning through our resources without trying to minimize the damage we're inflicted as we go. Still, that's not the point I'm trying to make.”
“What is your point,” Georgia asked with sincere interest.
“My point is that you cannot trust the world as you see it. The only thing you can truly trust is that it will change. It always has and always will. Even ground that looks stable can give way unexpected.”
“Like a sink hole,” Georgia offered.
I threw my nerdy history-loving comment in then, saying, “Or sinking into the ocean, like Atlantis or perhaps being blanketed by ash like Pompeii.”
“Yes,” dad said with a proud smile, “but those are still examples of natural phenomena. I'm saying there are more factors to consider, like corruption, revolt, revolution, and even a failure in technology.”
“Yeah, power is rather corrupting,” Carolina replied.
“And revolt and revolution is a normal pattern of history,” I responded. “Every great civilization has eventually crumbled, like Rome or Cahokia. It might be rebuilt again, but it's usually different and under a new regime.”
“So how's that interplay with the failure of technology,” Georgia questioned.
Georgia was a civil engineering student at the U of M so this idea intrigued her. I knew that the idea of a breakdown in the civil infrastructure would peak her interest, so I wasn't surprised by her question. I realized she was probably getting more from what our dad was saying then Carolina or I were, if Carolina was even listening anymore.
Carolina would be more interested in the concept of social decline. She was majoring in elementary education. So she was more affected by relationships and community. Carolina would be more enthralled by a topic that discussed the human psyche or the complex human condition.
I still wasn't sure where I fit into the scheme of things. I was the dorky bookworm who'd rather take a nature walk than build something, like Georgia or cook something like Carolina. I didn't mind doing those things, but I'd rather spend time hiking with my boyfriend, Chris or going to the library with my best friend, Rae. I didn't prefer to worry over things I couldn't change. That's not to say I didn't worry, just that I preferred not to fuel fears over uncontrollable factors.
Of course, our parents felt like we could all change anything. They said that we all directly impacted the world around us. They believed that what a person did mattered, no matter how big or small the action. I could kind of see their point.
Dad said that we “might be a small drop that falls into a big pool, but eventually those drops would add up into something substantial”. Mom would add to that, saying “it only took a drop to start a ripple, which eventually grew to a wave that would reach unknown shores”. Their lesson was to say that we all had immense power to shape the life around us. We needed to respect how important it was for each of us to always try to be the best we could be, no matter what we were doing.
My dad pulled my attention back to the conversation when he said, “Have you ever heard of a Tin Whisker?”
“No; what's that,” Carolina asked.
“Yeah,” Georgia replied. “It's a spontaneous growth of metal material, usually tin, that is sometimes found in various electrical devices. This unexplainable growth creates small microscopic 'whiskers' that can disrupt the proper operation of things, like microchips, for instance.”
“Or satellites,” dad interjected.
“Satellites?” I was bewildered. “Like moons or manufactured space machinery? I assume the machinery since you were referring to technology.”
“Duh,” Carolina teased, making a silly face at me and tickling me briefly, provoking me to laugh.
“Yes, I meant satellites like 'space machines' ”, my dad smiled at me.
Georgia rolled her eyes at me, “moons.”
“Don't tease your sister,” my dad gently chided my sisters. “I love the way she thinks.”
“Or doesn't,” Georgia teased as she reached back to tussle my hair playfully. I swatted her away easily, amicably.
Our dad ignored us and continued the conversation as though we were avid listeners.
“In May 1998 the Galaxy IV satellite was disabled by a tin whisker. It not only caused the satellite to short circuit, but it disrupted services on Earth.”
“What kinds of services?” I asked.
“Telecommunication, to be precise,” dad told us. “Back then, cell phones weren't mainstream yet, but pagers were the thing of the day. Those were knocked out in mass, along with other telecommunications that involved wire routers and even news broadcasts.”
“Wow,” Carolina gasped. “That's scary. Can you image what would happen if that occurred today? People would freak out.”
“Exactly,” dad was nodding his head in approval. “The way we are dependent on electricity and technology today is more than it was in 1998. If that occurred today, it'd impact banking, all forms of social media, and so much more.”
Georgia looked concerned as she pieced the ideas together mentally. “People are already paranoid about the end of the world or some catastrophic event that might alter the world. If that happened, they'd think it was doomsday and the chaos that would ensue would be unimaginable.”
“And if communications were disrupted, there'd be no easy way to disseminate information in order reassure people,” I concluded.
My chest felt tight with fear. People were in a heightened state of emotion and anything that might fall in line with their proposed apocalyptic expectations could provoke drastic actions. People would panic and if telecommunications were affected, it would take longer to spread the word as to the real problem. By then, everything would have potentially escalated into pandemonium.
“It only takes a spark to ignite an inferno,” our dad reminded us. “This is why I want you to be prepared. You never know what the future holds and a woman ought to be able to protect and provide for herself, not to mention her progeny.”
I fell silent after that. I didn't want to talk about such things anymore, at least today. My chest already hurt and I was trying to keep my mind calm. I didn't want to think of a future so bleak and dark. I had plans for my future and they didn't involve the world ending or society collapsing.
I wanted to graduate with my high school class in a year and start attending college full-time next fall. Rae and I were both in the Post-Secondary Enrollment Option Program (PSEOP) through our school which meant we were already taking college courses at the U of M. The courses we took gave us dual credit; for high school and college transcripts. Since this was going to enable us to technical
ly graduate early, I'd actually start full-time college when I returned to classes after the winter break. However, I wouldn't be considered a real college student until I walked with my graduation class in the spring.
I was already accepted at the University of Minnesota because of my involvement in the PSEO program. That was where Rae and I took classes together, though she wasn't sure that was where she wanted to attend and I hadn't decided on my major yet. I knew it was going to be in the field of botany. I just wasn't sure if I wanted to go into paleobotany or genetics yet. I knew I still had time to decide, unless people went crazy.
Oh, God, please don't let people go crazy!
I wanted to think of a future where I married my boyfriend, Chris. I knew he was waiting until I officially graduated high school to get engaged because we'd discussed it already. Once we admitted how we really felt about one another, we talked about everything; nothing was taboo. During those talks we agreed that we both wanted to have a long engagement, getting married after college. We planned to start our family after that; in conjunction with starting our careers.
Thinking about the potential disastrous future a stupid “tin whisker” might evoke made me sick to my stomach. There was no way I'd bring children into such an existence! I knew Chris would feel the same way; family was too important to us and we'd never let our children suffer like that. To allow a child to be born in that sort of a future just seemed incredibly cruel.
Chapter Six
When we arrived home, mom had dinner waiting for us. Rae had also come over in our absence, as she often did. Rae was a common presence in our home, especially for the evening meal. Her own family never really sat together the way our family did and neither of her parents were cooks. They often ordered take-out or ate microwavable meals.
Our meal, like most of our meals, consisted of mostly foraged foods. We had smoked salmon a friend of our family sent us from Alaska. Wild leeks boiled with wild garlic made a side dish that complimented the fish beautifully. For dessert, our mother had prepared black locust blossom fritters. We also had a lovely tea made from the fresh twigs of the white birch tree that was sweetened with birch sap drizzle.
The friend in Alaska was a long-time Air force colleague of our dad's named, Ishmael. Ishmael had done some artic S.E.R.E. training with our dad near Anchorage and fell in love with it. When his enlistment was up, he separated and moved there permanently. He often sent us rewards from his hunting and fishing expeditions. Our dad would sometimes accompany him on his escapades when time (and leave) permitted.
I always loved the fresh greens we frequently ate with our meals. I liked wild leeks, but wild asparagus was always my favorite. The black locust fritters were made by dipping the blossoms in batter then lightly frying them. Mom liked to make her homemade flour for the batter so she had ground some inner bark from a sweet birch for that purpose. The fritters were naturally sweet and made a wonderful treat. The birch sap, twigs, and bark had been collected from our grandparents land. I loved the molasses-like syrup as a sweetener for my birch twig tea.
“Dakota,” my dad asked me as he playfully, albeit lightly, bumped against me while I poured my birch tea. “What are the medical properties of birch?”
“Well,” I began, already processing the uses in my mind. “It really depends on what part of the tree you're going to use.”
“What about this tea?” my dad suggested as a starting point for our informational conversation.
“Well, this tea is made from the twigs of the birch tree. You can gargle with it to help cure throat and mouth ailments,” I answered.
“What if I used the leaves instead?” dad asked as he passed me the birch sap to drizzle into my tea cup.
“Hmmm,” I responded. “The leaves can be infused to make a tea that would be a good diuretic.”
My dad was nodding at me with approval. “And a diuretic is good for what?”
“Well, it would be a good treatment for urinary tract infections,” I told him.
“Just infections?” I knew my dad already knew the answer to his questions, but this was a game we played together.
I was fascinated by plants and their various properties. I wasn't as interested in mainstream gardening as I was in the uses of herbs in regards to both nutrition and medicinal purposes. My mom was a gardener, as was Carolina, but dad was survivalist who challenged my herbal knowledge for practical uses.
I guess this was how we bonded with one another. Georgia's shared interests and daily runs gave her a special tie to dad. Carolina's marriage to Roger and his military career gave her a unique relationship with him. When I thought about it, our “what's this plant” game was our way to connect.
“No,” I replied to his inquiry. “It's more of a wash, really. It will cleanse the system and even help to dissolve stones or expel excessive water from the body. It's good for the treatment of things like gout and rheumatism.”
As we migrated from the counter to the table, taking our seats, Rae added to our conversation by asking, “Isn't that the same tea you told me to drink for cramps?”
“Uh-huh,” I replied.
“Menstrual cramps?” Georgia asked bluntly as she joined us at the kitchen table.
“Any really,” I told her. “Of course, if you use the young shoots along the leaves then you have to be wary, as an infusion from those would be used as a laxative.”
“Nice,” Georgia laughs. “I might have to have you help me make some of that for the guys at work.”
My mother cleared her throat as she carried the pot of wild leeks and garlic to the table. She shook her head lightly in disapproval and softly reprimanded us for being crude at the table. This effectively ended the conversation about medical properties of the birch tree.
After we all were situated and grace had been said, my father looked at Rae and asked, “Are you graduating early with Dakota then?”
“Yeah,” Rae replied with a big smile. She had been working hard so she could graduate early, but she was still uncertain about college. “I'm still looking at different college programs though. I guess I'll stay at the University of Minnesota until I know what I really want to major in.”
“That's smart,” Georgia chimed in. “Since you're already taking some courses there it'll be easy to continue there after you graduate.”
“Definitely. There's no sense in your making any abrupt school changes until you're certain what you want,” dad encouraged.
“Yeah, that's how I see it,” Rae agreed.
“It's crazy to think that Chris is going to graduate next week,” I casually mentioned; at least I hoped it sounded casual. I couldn't be certain since my heart started racing from simply saying his name. To try to cover the blush I felt creeping into my cheeks, I amended my comment by saying, “Or that Georgia will be graduating from college next spring.”
I saw my mother watching me with a knowing smile from my peripheral vision, so I actively avoided looking at her. I quickly became interested in my meal and Georgia's future plans. “Have you decided if you're going to join the military then or stay in the private sector?”
“I'm not sure,” Georgia announced. “I was seriously considering joining the Army Core of Engineers, but now, I'm not sure.”
“Why are you hesitant?” Carolina asked. “Don't you want to enlist anymore?”
“Well, if I do join, I'm getting my commission,” Georgia told her. “I'll have my Bachelor's degree so I can go in as an officer.”
“Right,” Carolina agreed. She already knew that, but Georgia obviously didn't like the term “enlisted.”
“Plus, you're a natural born leader,” dad appraised proudly.
“Ah, thanks, dad!”
“It's not a lie,” I said as Rae simultaneously included her input by adding, “Yeah.”
Georgia smiled at us in gratitude then explained, “I guess the thing my decision is hinged upon is what happens with the potential cut backs.”
“I don't think we'll see anything
too quickly, do you, John?” our mother offered, turning to our dad for additional thoughts on the matter.
“No, I don't think so, but we'll need to watch the situation,” dad said.
“Well,” our mother encouraged “regardless, it's always good to keep your options open.”
“It's like I always tell you girls,” dad started. “'The best defense is a good offence.' If you're properly prepared then you can get through anything.”
I just looked at my dad in annoyance. I knew what he was about to say next because it was what he always said.
“A woman should always be able to provide and protect herself and her children,” he concluded.
“Yeah, yeah,” I rolled my eyes. My dad shot me a small, indulgent smile, but Georgia's feathers were too ruffled to be as lenient.
“Dakota!” she barked angrily. “Don't you roll your eyes at dad! He deserves your respect, not your insolence.”
“It's okay, Georgia,” dad tried to calm my older sister and ease the tension that had instantly sprang forth.
“No, it's not, dad,” Georgia said irritably. “Dakota needs to learn her place.”
“I think you both need to remember your manners,” Carolina said quietly. She was visibly uncomfortable with the situation, as she always hated squabbles, especially among us sisters.
“Girls, stop,” dad said calmly, but effectively. “Georgia, it's okay. I would've rolled my eyes at Dakota's age too. It's what teenagers do.”
“I doubt that,” Georgia said, stubbornly holding onto her frustration. “You'd never be so rude to Grandpa.”
“You would've rolled your eyes,” I insisted.
“I never would!” Georgia snapped and started towards me.
I was relieved when dad's arm not only blocked Georgia's path to me, but stopped her in her tracks. “Enough,” was all dad said.
“Daughters,” our mother addressed us, “there's enough strife in the world that you needn't add to it. Dakota, stop antagonizing her sister and Georgia, your father is more than capable of handling things on his own.”
A Ripple of Fear (Fear of Dakota #1) Page 9
