Okay. So Peter Bell not here. Elsewhere. Gone. Now what?
Prime objective obviously unaffected; unchanged from very first day we stuck nose outside shelter following expiration of predicted maximum contagion factor after World Ended: Find somebody else.
Somebody smarter, bigger, stronger; with broad shoulders, laughing eyes, windblown blond hair; font of wisdom concerning all aspects of establishing bright new civilizations for fun and profit. (Be nice, too, if knows location of Yellow Brick Road.)
But Teacher’s statistics project only 150,000 hominems on North American continent. (Entire continent-8,795,052 square miles [National Geographic World Atlas figures].) Another perspective, same problem: 58.63 square miles per person.
One solution: Rule off continent graph-paper style, in squares 7.6575 miles per side; pick square at random; stand at center; yell through bullhorn. Then repeat — 150,000 times.
However viewed, awful lot of elbow room. Population spread terribly thin. Accidental meeting probability effectively zilch — which fact may, upon reflection, be disguised blessing…
Don’t really want to meet ABs; not until securely ensconced within bosom of AA community. Hate to sound prejudiced, but am; can’t forget Teacher’s opinion that majority laboring under some form of emotional problem, high percentage downright pathological. Not unreasonable, then, to assume every contact but AAs, absent convincing evidence to contrary, possibly hauling unsecured payload — potentially dangerous.
Which revives burning issue: Peter Bell not here; no hint of how long gone, where to. May even be dead — from available data; likely as not. Speculation pointless.
But I’m alive. Very much so. Firmly resolved to maintain trend. Ergo, logical next step: Pick another AA from File. Doesn’t matter which; only Peter Bell personally recommended, described. Others only represented by impersonal File entries. Okay, but faceless.
However, close to 100 AAs recorded, scattered all over U.S. No assurance any address still valid and random visits could take forever, or longer. Only reasonable procedure: Plot locations on map; lay out most efficient meander touching all bases, shortest time, distance — reserving, of course, right to fly off on wild tangent should events offer even most tenuous clue.
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.