Planetfall For Marda

by Zenka Wistram

  They were able to settle, by the GPS and rolling map, that they were indeed on the trail Edgerift had suggested for us, so they went back to the trailhead and marked it and then down the trail a bit with the phos markers.

  “There's more vegetation down that way,” Soren told me, gesturing tiredly back from whence they'd come. “Some sort of bushes, scrubby lookin' things. But enough to obscure the trail a bit when we were trying to find it. Of course now that we found it, it should be easy enough to find it again. Glad we brought the phos markers though. Be a bitch and a half finding it otherwise. Sorry about the language, ma'am,” he added to Cho, who gave him a stern look.

  The kids all wanted to see the flags on the rolling map before they went to bed, so they scurried off to their crates with an adult in their family to have a look. The rolling map takes up most of the center of the dashboard in the cockpit of the crate; there's a smaller screen above the com speaker that we can use to see who we're talking to or pull up a gameboard for the chess games or whatnot. This smaller screen also functions as a built in pad, which I suppose could be handy.

  The rolling map, though, only shows the map, synced with the GPS, and alerts. On a settled planet with enough satellites, there would probably be real time pictures of us as we traveled on the map; here there's the photomap made in flyovers and little dots denoting each of our crates all lined up neatly when you zoom in enough.

  I'm not sure how accurate all that is, but so far it seems ok. After all, it shows all our dots arranged in a circle right now on top of a hill-looking thing, and that is where we are. I wonder if the rolling map will fritz out when we hit “the anomalous area”, as Harry is calling the place around the trailhead where the instruments failed. That's what it did for them, just started jerking around and misplacing their dot.

  Back here in camp, their dot stayed visible just fine. At least if someone should get lost in the anomalous area or another like it, we will be able to determine their general whereabouts. I admit if we could find an anomalous area in the settlement, that's where I'd want to put our dome. Just for the sheer cussedness of it.

  I am ready to start building, Marda. I'm ready to assemble our home, to help the other assemble theirs, to put up our town hall slash schoolhouse, to help Cho put together her gazebo. I don't know how I'll feel about actually forming a village with people, but I am looking forward to actually building the town.

  I want to experiment with the grass and with old fashioned sod building. I've downloaded more than a few articles about building methods in places without wood. In Old Iceland they had earth-bermed homes, though with no windows. I need windows – and I need shades for them.

  Tomorrow night, Marda, if I'm not exhausted, I will send pictures.

  I love you. Good night.

  Night 24

  Dear Marda,

  Exhausted. Sorry, love. Will write more tomorrow. Goodnight, beautiful.

  Night 25

  Dear Marda,

  So we've been here almost a Standard month, and last night we slept on our new ground. This is it, this is our home, for good or bad from here on.

  It's beautiful, Marda. The trail led us down to a much lower elevation than the plains we'd traveled across, down below the fog. Behind us the hills are shrouded in the fog; they look distant but close enough to be protective, like a row of uncles just here to make sure the playground bully doesn't beat the tar out of us while making sure we don't behave atrociously and beyond that, we're on our own.

  I like them. I like this place so far. We didn't have too much trouble with the anomalous area on the way in, but only because it had already been properly marked by Soren and company. The path itself was flat and wide, a ribbon of stone and gravel snaking through the grass and the sparse shrubbery, wide enough that the grass on either side of the trail could not stretch across it and wrap together like it did all across the plains.

  We spent the day plotting out the general ideas of our future town. Tonight, for the last time, we're still parked in a circle with the fence on along the outside of the crates. Tomorrow everyone will pull their crates into their home plot and the fences will be external; besides plotting out the town, we were planting the rods we'll need to fence in our new homes.

  Eventually we'll assemble a perimeter fence, once the town hall and the clinic and all are up and built. There's an extra dome meant to be workspace for the scientists among us, too.

  A lot of assembly to get to over the next weeks.

  I'm worn out, but I admit, I'm excited still about all the building. Oh! I meant to tell you, when you look at the pictures, to the east of the settlement you'll see what looks like a bunch of reeds growing out of the grassy ground along the edge of the rocky ground leading down to the ocean (and you'll see, the ocean is perfect, if like all the water and the sky, a bit purpley). Those reeds are taller than the crates, thick and tough and woody. I am betting I have found the material I need for building and for making furniture.

  Annya Sanford and Tesla Shane are going to go on down to the reed grove when time permits and run tests to see if the reeds are safe for touching, to see if we can indeed use them as a working material. They'll take a truck and make sure the grove is big enough to take anything from, and gather up some deadfall if they find some and it's safe to the touch.

  We'll see over time how quickly the reeds grow. Perhaps they'll be quick and thus a easily renewable resource, but I don't want to make assumptions just because they look like reeds back home and because something about the grove reminds me of a stand of bamboo.

  The way down to the ocean itself is rocky and difficult, but we'll have a path or even a road down there soon enough. There's an expansive bay down there sheltered to the east by land and to the west by an arm of rock reaching out into the ocean. Past the bay we can see rocky islands, if only barely. Past the spit, the fog gets heavier again. Not as heavy as up on the plains, I'd wager, but at this distance it's thick enough to give the appearance of a distant, indistinct wall rising up to dovetail with the clouds above us.

  Here at least we can clearly see the sky. In spots. It's about as cloudy here right now as a regular cloudy day back home, and we'll see if it's always this way or if it clears up even more. The sky is just a shade past blue into the purple hues. At sunset the purple becomes quickly more intense, the richer hue rushing across the sky, followed just as swiftly by true darkness.

  I think I've gotten used to how quickly night falls here. There's no sound of crickets at nightfall, no frogs. Animal life seems fairly rare around here; we've seen insects or insect-like critters, but rare enough to cause a ripple of interest as soon as one is sighted. In nearly a month, we've seen five of what Cadell calls Fierce Fog Monsters. They're rather small to own that name, only the size of my thumb from the tip to the first knuckle, and brightly colored yellow and iridescent green with a black underbelly and ten black legs made for sudden jumps that send all the girls and half the boys shrieking in surprise.

  Cadell still has not convinced his mother to let him keep one as a pet, though he did help Natalie Sommers, the entomologist, collect one that she keeps alive in a small sample container that looks a bit like a hexagonal goldfish tank.

  She's named him Harry The Second, after Harry Randolph. Somehow I suspect they'll be a couple before half the year's up.

  So tomorrow I'll be writing to you from our new patch of ground. I won't have the dome fully set up by then, I expect, but I'll have the frame laid out and I'll have cleared the 7 meter circle needed for it. I'll have the crate set down next to that spot, the back hatch ready to be removed completely so the dome can be connected to the crate.

  The leftover back hatch will break apart into the new counters for the little kitchen in the dome, along with the kitchen pieces from inside the crate. There will be space from the cargo area forming a small room, then the narrow doorway into the crate itself, right between where our bunks are formed into a double bed and where the bathroom is. Because our dome is just
the two of us, we didn't order an extra full bathroom to install into the dome, just the little half bath that comes standard.

  After the dome's built and the cover stretched over it and sealed to the cover of the hatchway, we will have building foam sprayed over it for insulation and stability. An hour after the foam is sprayed on it will be strong enough to touch without ruining it, a week after it will be cured and as sturdy as stone. If we want, we could take down the frame, peel off the cover from where it will be stuck to the foam, and build another dome. I don't imagine you and I will need that, but the frame pieces will probably come in handy should we need to add on to any of the town buildings. All we'd have to order is more foam and windows.

  The covers themselves can be cut apart with a laser and then resealed with the same laser with the settings changed so they can be fitted over and over again to whatever size and shape structure we wish.

  All very practical, everything designed to be reused and reused and reused again. I am pleased with the efficiency and practicality of it all, as I know you know I would be. It might actually be more efficient for me to put off building our dome and help the families get their domes up, but... on this one thing I want to just forget about practicality, and get your home up and started getting ready for you. I know you're safe and fine where you are, but...

  You understand. This is our home, or will be. I want it to be ready. I want it to be perfect, or as perfect as I can make it without you.

  So tired. I love you so much.

  Good night, Marda.

  Night 26. Dear Marda, I got the dome up. You won't believe it, but it's up, and it's curing as I write. A bunch of folks came to help me, and some of the older kids too, and we got the ground cleared and the dome up and the cover on and the foam sprayed by nightfall, and then Alis fed everyone from her outdoor kitchen/command center she's got up in front of where she and Huw are assembling their dome.

  If I weren't who I was, I would have cried with happiness. Ok, and maybe pride and affection for these people. When I saw them arriving at our site with their shovels and tools... I can't tell you, Marda, all the emotions I felt. I wish you had been there, and I felt so strongly that you were. Did you feel that, love, our home being built with the hands of our new community?

  Ok, that was horrifically maudlin. But it's how I felt. I think this is the way to do it. Tomorrow we're going to head over to the Kimura's and get their domes up; they've got a large dome for gathering, then smaller domes – bedrooms for Cho and Makoto, Hisashi and Amaya, Katsu and Eiji, and then a small dome just for Masumi. I'd bet with a bunch of us working together, we have it up in two days.

  And Cho will have it furnished and liveable very soon after that; the woman is military in precision and drive. She's the one who oversaw the building of our dome and the placement of our door, telling me to make sure the front door didn't face into the bedroom area because the bathroom was right there, and no one wants to be seen running from the bathroom to the bedroom by anyone at the front door.

  Smart, that woman. I know all of the heads of household around here are of impressive intelligence, but she's not even listed as the head of household. I have to begrudgingly admit Edgerift did what they claimed they would and built a working community from people prepared to work together as a whole.

  I'm including pictures, and a drawing from Catrin. She hasn't seen her little Trevor or Liberty since we reached the settlement, but she's sure they'll be along. She's made us a drawing of Trevor eating a pancake as big as a table to him.

  Goodnight, Marda. Sleep well and dream of a domed house with a door that faces a lavender ocean. It's yours as of now.

  I love you.

  Night 27

  Dear Marda, It was a long day of assembling today. The Kimuras had most of their land cleared of the grass, so there wasn't so much heavy shoveling, just enough to land me with a couple of blisters. Most of the day was connecting the triangles of the frames for the side domes; the Kimuras had already assembled their great dome of 12 meters in circumference. Their great dome is very tall, tall enough to add a second story beneath that arching roof. If we'd come to a cold climate instead of the very mild climate we did, that space would be a pain to heat.

  In time the Kimuras will probably build a loft in the main dome, Hisashi told me as we sat companionably near each other assembling and connecting the triangles. Cho will need more crafting space, more storage space. Perhaps Eiji or Katsu will come to want their own room, as well, which can be added in the loft or we can assemble another dome.

  I wanted to tell you that I noticed the grass around our dome-and-crate was already starting to expand upwards onto the surface of our home. It made me smile, though I know I'll have to keep it away from the doors. I wonder if it will go all the way up over our dome, giving us an under-hill hideaway, our own outer Commonwealth hobbit hole. I can't help but think that might amuse Mr Tolkien. The true test of hobbit-ness, though, will be if we all start growing shorty, chubbier, and get hairy feet.

  Well, hairier feet, in my case. Makoto Kimura made meals for us. He's a great cook, whipping up stirfry and rice from freeze-dried ingredients. He had that look on his face that you get when you're cooking, like you've found the calm center of yourself where all is as it should be and life has become a kind of music no one else can hear.

  Tomorrow we'll do the foam on the Kimura dome, then go cut grass in preparation for the Gethins' domes.

  Busy days, just building. Callouses and, thankfully, laughter. You'd love this.

  Goodnight, dear Marda.

  Night 28.

  Dear Marda, Cho brought over a section of her work-in-progress, her canopy of grass, and she and Hisashi and Amaya and I hung it up with sidewalls made of the triangle pieces of the dome frame, all standing on each other like triangular honeycombs. We hung it over the front door of the dome, pulling away from the front far enough to make a place to put your rocking chair. I hung some lights from the trianglestrut walls, little LEDs that will pick up solar energy to recharge during the day.

  That's where I am sitting tonight, leaning against the dome, the growing grass soft beneath my tired old ass, my legs sprawled out in front of me, the ocean below down there where it's too dark to really see it, though I can definitely hear it. There's a lot of sounds kind of like an ocean, but none that are quite exactly ocean.

  This isn't a bad life. I wonder about your sister Frannie, and I'll send her a note tonight too to make sure all is well back on the home front, where our old home is, where Frannie putters around amidst all we've left behind. I know she's not missing me, but I'll bet she misses you almost as much as I do.

  After we got that up, it was time to go spray the foam all over the Kimuras' dome. The boys all camped out in their domes last night, no worse than a tent. Meanwhile the Porpoise Blues kids are going around preparing the flooring for our home today. Once it's all ready, it will be easy enough, they just haul the seawater up in barrels and mix it with powdered crap Nic Marceau and Harry Randolph (the chemist and the engineer) are in charge of, then pour it into the dome and the connector. It levels itself, and it binds with the dirt to form a smooth, impervious dark brown floor.

  The floor could be painted later if we wanted, or carpeted with those tacky-back carpet tiles. I kinda like it the way it is, at least in my head, the traditional flooring of the hobbit-holes of Estoper. It'll look cozy with a few rugs thrown in.

  Anyway, we'll put the floor in after I remove the frame and cover for reuse as needed. After that, about a week of curing, and we'll have a ready-to-furnish little dome-and-crate house. The finished floor will bond with the walls enough to seal out the grass and insect-type things and should, by the weight of it, help it all stay in place even in winds. The grass growing up over the dome will help anchor it too. In windy climates, the frames would stay in and long stakes would be driven deep into the dirt to anchor it even in very high wind. The meteorologic equipment Edgerift's left here attached to the town's beacon (no sma
ll help for us finding the site) hasn't picked up any worrisome winds, though. Heavier rains in the winter, colder air but not freezing, but no great storms. Estoper is as mild mannered as a vicar.

  Before they can lay the floors, they run wires back and forth that they connect to the power generator on the crate, those will heat the poured floor on cold days and nights. I've already opened the solar canopy as far as it goes to supply the power we'll need. I've got our moisture collector up and ready as well. Huw Gethin rolled my water tank on over after he assembled it at the supply crates, and once the floor is dry, we'll have heat, energy, and water to supply us. I still have to do the interior wiring and get our kitchen set up properly, but there's time for that after the rest of the homes are up.

  After it's all built and the town is a town, I want to go see if I can't get some good flat rock for paving a path and our little patio overlooking the sea. Heck, if there's enough rock, we can see about a stacked stone wall instead of the repulsion fence. Depending on how often we have trouble with the lizard or with garden-munchers or other wild-things, we may not need the repulsion fence much at all.

  I know where we can put our garden, too. Behind the house, where the crate door opens – once the “front door”, and now the back door of our dwelling. Right next to the door, sheltered from the ocean winds, if needed, where there's still plenty of sun (such as we get). I've brought your heirloom seeds, and we'll see what grows, though I suspect nothing will grow properly until you're here to lend your garden-goddess spirit to the works.

  We got the Gethin's frame up and most of the cover on it; Huw, Alis, Elyan and Briallen have been assembling the little triangles in the evenings as the twins played and then went off to bed to sleep and dream of pointy-head faeries. The rest of us just had to fasten triangles together to form the domes. I'm still excited to be building a town, but I can say that there will come a day when I'll be glad to never, ever see a thin rod of white metal with fastening holes on each end. Just to celebrate our progress, I did some storytelling this evening. This time just funny stories because I wasn't in the mood for the blood and strife of some of the tales I know. I had a crowd of runty monsters all arrayed like a crescent moon before me, the cup toward me. Even the older kids came and listened in.