NPR 3 Minute Story: Homesteader

Homesteader 2 She closed the book, placed it on the table and finally decided to walk through the door. Or in the door. She was not sure which. She knew what to expect. The three "Advisers', "Advisers of The Human Experiment" they called themselves in unison--they always spoke in unison, had given her explicit description of the process, reiterated in the book in a surprisingly cartoonish way. The door would be heavy, on opening it there would be a red glow, when she stepped through she would experience that upsetting nausea of the downside of a roller coaster. Then she would be there. Apparently the River of Time and such figures of speech had a certain accuracy. Time seemed to have a kind of force or structure and intervention was like fitting a foot into a shoe too small; it required effort and caused a reaction, force for force. When she asked if it was history that had the force or rather time itself--like gravity--the three Advisers laughed uproariously and together cried "Good, Good" in either congratulations or simple approval, as with a favorite pet. The Advisers tried to explain further but usually got sidetracked, bemoaning the difficulties created by the modern world; too much was known about people now. And the social networks! The Advisers needed low profile people of quality who could be inserted into history without suspicion; they could not be missed from their time and their entrance into history should create only a ripple. On the other hand, the anomie of the modern world led to surprisingly ready defection. Unfulfilled in the present, anxious about the future, many capable people were willing to go back in time. With growing governments and corporations and shrinking individuals the past was being seen as a "time of opportunity." One could live a life. According to the Advisers, there was a long queue developing. They began to refer to them as "immigrants." Nostalgia could be proactive. Some saw a future in the past. She felt this way; she and most of her friends were loathe to bring a child in to such a confined and dangerous world and longed for a time and place where childbirth could be optimistic, regardless of how primitive. And she loved the idea of the adventure, of participating in slight improvements that might make the discouraging present more appealing. The Advisers spoke glowingly, and synchronously, about small changes in early agriculture and smelting that had worked their way to the present. A young geographer had become a minor help to Philip the Navigator. "Nothing dramatic. Just a nudge," the Advisers would say, synchronously, and smile, synchronously. Apparently that wasn't always the case--Tiberius' goldsmith who developed aluminum had not gone well--but generally people sent back adapted and, if anything, the goldsmith's lesson was, indeed, "nothing dramatic, just a nudge". Once comfortable with the inconveniences and with care of disease and awareness of war, most "immigrants" settled in well. This was good because there was no rescue, no recall. Those few entrepreneurs who hid artifacts in prearranged places for their families to retrieve and profit from in the present were tolerated. "I hope my being French isn't bad luck,' she had said, thinking of Joan. The Advisers had collectively shaken their heads and tittered. They had denied Joan of Arc was an immigrant--or Shakespeare--but always enjoyed the joke. She looked back at the book one last time and took a deep breath. She adjusted her clothes then pulled on the heavy door. There was a rose mist visible through the crack as it opened.