Dawn on Jefferson: Chapter Two, Where I Live

just a reminder. This was a story written for my then 11 year old daughter. My ex and I were going through a divorce and my daughter loves to read. So I wrote her a science fiction story along the lines of her Percy Jackson stories. I am posting an edited version here. Please enjoy.

sorry for the cheesy picture, but I thought it might help. My gimp skills are not great. ;)

Chapter One: Getting up
Chapter Two: Where I Live

I should have explained what's going on and where I was, but I didn’t want to bore you. Boredom is the complete and utter enemy. It can run up, grab you and chew on your brain. Not fun. I’ll explain what's going on now.

I realized as I was telling you this your readers may have no idea of what Jefferson is. After all, we are one of nine colony worlds the United States has and kids are often bored out of their skulls with learning these things. Even with the Immersive Education Standards.

The walk from our farm, Dad's farm, took two hours. It was about twelve kilometers (seven and half miles if any of your readers were still on Earth and read this) from town. The first bit over one and half km (one mile, you Earthers!) was through Dad’s farm: land was very cheap if you wanted to go out to colonies! That part of the walk was through the green houses and domes of the farm to the forest. Then it was a nine kilometer (a little over five and half miles, Earther). walk through the forest to the one and a half km wide (still one mile, Earther Americans, oy, not going to translate the units much longer!) Blasted Lands back in those days.

Well, The Blasted Lands were not really blasted and they were certainly not on anywhere magic exists. They certainly didn’t have a high tower, orcs and a volcano to recycle magic rings in. When the colonists landed, they burned a circle six kilometers (four miles wide, last time, Earther!) across. They followed that up with dumping all sorts of chemical nastiness into the soil in that area. The chemicals were friendly to earth life, but not to Jeff Life. There was a reason for that.

Jefflife - we call Jefferson, our world, Jeff, and almost no one named their boys Jeffrey anymore at least not on Jeff! Jefflife and Earth life can eat each other. Not well. Sometimes there is a bad reaction to chewing on each other. Some times that reaction was sooo bad, it killed. So, for the protection of the first colonists, they blasted, sprayed and then walled - double walled! - the first town, Monticello. The outer wall was at the edge of the cleared lands. Tall and watched. The inner wall was at the edge of town. Bots built them both.

Yes, silly kids made the joke and call the capital Mound of Jello. Even at 12, I was so over that.

They repeated for the towns they built after. Our town, Shadwell, had the same thing done.

Kids with foul mouths made fun of OUR town. They thought they were funny. They're not. We try extra hard in the territorial championships to make sure they know Shadwell crush them. Ha! Right! We’re too small.

Dad, my brother and I called the cleared area the Blasted Lands. It’s a reference, look it up. At Monticello and other towns, the Blasted Lands were used for farming or even to expand the town if they have to. They destroy more around then to make sure things are safe still. Boo for that! I thought it would make towns and cities look like they are growing like trees from the air when we fly.

In Shadwell, we didn't use the Blasted Lands for farms. We used it for gardens, mostly decorative, but some were kitchen gardens. We also used it as a safe place for kids to play and athletics and all sorts of things. Food grew out on the farms though. The ones like Dad had.

Dad's farm was a section in size. It sounds small, but it’s a lot bigger than you would think. He calls it Bard-dur. He took the references too far. Dork. There were no walls in the farms except around the house. The food was not grown in the open air. It was grown in greenhouses. Animals were raised in domes. It’s not that we didn't want the animals to live inside, just too many died getting nipped by a buzzing taxito or would nibble witch wort or swallow a slimy.

That meant there were very few cows. Even very little goats. Goats would eat anything. That's the problem. There were diaries, but not Dad's place. He had two cows, but always sent the calves off to the diaries unless he's going to replace a Bessy. That's what we called a milk cow. We were on Bessy IV now.

A ten-acre dome was a big place for just two cows. They're expensive and not all farms can afford the space and cost.

Mostly people in Shadwell ate chicken, pork, trout, other fish and lots of vegetables and fruit. When Dad retired a Bessy, really we kill it, we get beef. Dad freezed a lot and we get beef once per week. Dad also had 60 pigs. They live in their own dome. They had problems with eating things they shouldn't, too, but while goat barbecues are not common. Pork BBQ was definitely quite common. We had lots of people from the Terran American South. That made the stupid pig problems worth it. Market driven you might have said. However, the market didn’t drive to us! Silly!

Mmm. BBQ.

Dad's set up was cool! It started in a giant pool! We couldn't swim there though. One filled with fish. The fish pooped in the water and it ran through to the plants in the greenhouses. This fertilized the plants and it cleaned the water. This looped back. The same loop takes place out to the domes with the animals. It fertilized the grass and hay and even a few oak trees!

Most farms were the same way, Dad said. I still think his farm was awesome. It’s one of my homes. He let me fish with friends. It’s a lot of fun. Dad said fishing in the pool was cheating and too easy. I was more than fine with that. Trout was a favorite of mine.

Future spouse of mine, whomever you are, bring me smoked trout instead of a ring, ok? Ha! Kidding! I was not planning on getting married any time soon. I didn’t even like anyone yet!

Some people might have had an idea Dad was out in the fields working away like something in the Immies. It’s not. He's not. He worked something like a normal day. The bots mostly take care of things. His job was mostly managing the bots to make sure something didn’t get confused from his instructions and fixed the bots. Back on Earth, the bots mostly fixed themselves, but out here, where bringing a single kilo (kilogram! More than two pounds, Earther! sheesh!) cost more than someone got paid each year, people save on what they can.

Dad's house was bigger than he needed. It has more bedrooms than what we need. There's him, me and my younger brother, but there are four more bedrooms. The house was bot built, but he designed it. He designed and had a house built for Mom, too, in town as a parting gift when they divorced, but I don't want to talk about that.

I had a big room with big windows. I could open the windows, with their smart screens, but I mostly don't. The funny part about Jeff is the plants. They smelled funny, even when you were used to it. They smelled too SWEET. Everything smelled like a doughnut shop, except the flowers. They smelled AWFUL. Spring on Jeff made me want to gag. Flower the super cute skunk was named perfectly on Jeff.

Terran Americans loved the smell of Jeff. When it was not spring. We rolled our eyes. They changed their minds over time but especially when the smells of other cooking mixed with the doughnut shop. Let's take something else that smells good: bacon. When someone cooked bacon, it smelled awesome. Then if someone constantly smelled it, a person would eventually start to gag and get sick. Doughnuts. Bacon. Get the idea? Fortunately, over time, the doughnut smells went away though. Or the brain just gave up. I think the nose gave up and the doughnut smellers just died.

Terran Americans find it funny we didn't make cake for birthdays. Could you?

Pastries were the past. ha!

They called us unAmerican, in a joking sort of way. Earthers.

Oh, wait, we were walking. I should have been talking about that! Not birthday parties!