The Circadia Chronicles: Omnibus: The Complete Colonization Sci-Fi Series by Heather Heckadon (books to read to get smarter .txt) 📗

"I...I hate to bring up tender subjects, especially right now, but how can these crops possibly be safe for consumption?"

The man chuckled. "What d’ya mean?"

"I mean, D.C. was nuked. Kansas is far enough away not to get hit with the blast, but it’s close enough to be worried about soil contamination from the radioactive isotopes dropping from the sky. Do you guys glow in the dark later?"

The lead farmer let out a guttural laugh and opened the fridge to retrieve a bundle of corn cobs. "Sunflowers, girl!"

Jane stood there and looked dumbfounded. "What?"

"Sunflowers!" he repeated.

My brain tried to backtrack to school to remember what sunflowers had to do with nuclear situations. I remembered something vaguely but not enough. "Do they protect the soil or restore it?"

"They restore it, as long as it's not too much. You plant a whole field of sunflowers and wait until they get good and stocky. The plants normally pull potassium and calcium from the soil for nutrients, but the radioactive isotopes mimic them, so they pull those too. Neat, huh?"

"Wouldn't you have to worry about local wildlife being radioactive then? Surely the birds and mice eat the sunflower seeds," I said.

"That's the thing. The plants store the contamination in the stalks and leaves. We always cut them before they flowered out anyway, just to be safe, but it cleared out our issues pretty quickly. That first dinner from these fields was scary, but they tested safe, and what other choice do we have? The way I understand it from you all is that we're lucky even to see food, let alone regularly."

"That's pretty innovative," Chris chimed in from the back.

"Yeah, it honestly worked pretty well and was cost-effective. Worked great," the lead farmer said proudly.

"How did you dispose of the waste though? The sunflowers don't neutralize or decay the radioactivity, right?" Jane asked.

"That's correct," I said. "That would be a lot of sunflowers."

"After the nuclear war, several cities opened big holes in the ground and poured a concrete hull, kind of like a basement deep in the ground. Once they were full, they poured more concrete over the top to cap them. It allows the radioactive isotopes to decay eventually. So we found a disposal center and filled it."

"Handy," Jane commented.

The room went quiet, and I decided now was the time to ask them. "We need to ask you gentlemen something. "

THE WEATHER TURNED for the worse as we walked back to the plane, so we hurried. We waved goodbye to the farmers as we waited for takeoff. The rain streamed past the windows as we rushed down the gravel road that served as our runway, then lifted off.

"Where to now?" I asked.

Chris suggested, "Let's go over to D.C. We're already in the States, and it's the only wreckage site that's open to the public now."

"Open?" I asked. He made it sound like a tourist destination. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"Not at all. It’s the only city that's been decontaminated and deemed safe. The whole city is basically a memorial."

I'd been to Washington, D.C. before the war and reveled in the enormous historical monuments. My time there had been short, but I had thoroughly enjoyed it. The thought of seeing those same monuments that had brought me so much pride now standing in ruins as burnt relics of the past was an off-putting idea. I caught myself getting emotional about it. Not only was it my nation's Capitol, but it was also my mom’s last known location.

"For what purpose?" I asked.

Chris scratched his scruffy face. "Shock factor."

"I don't like that. I'm not trying to shock people. I'm trying to educate them."

"You have to be listening to learn. We need to make them listen. It's your call though."

He was right. Most people on Earth, myself included, hadn't seen the wreckage. The media tried to stay away from the subject and were too busy shipping the new government as a positive movement. History had a funny way of being easily erased if it wasn't particularly enjoyable or progressive. It also had a way of bringing back painful memories. The world was trying to move on from the war, but it was still happening. The Capitol was something that brought me pain. Although I’d instantly resisted the idea, I had to see it. I knew that. I needed closure on what I remembered, and so did everyone else. We all needed to see something that was once great, to know that our current situation wasn't great at all.

I stood and walked to the front of the plane to visit with Jones, the pilot. When I returned to my seat, Chris gave me a crooked smile. "Glad to see you're not gonna shy away from the hard issues."

"I'm scared." The hushed undertone of my voice caused him to lean in.

"That's okay. Everyone is." He leaned back in his chair and looked out the window. The plane sailed above the clouds in a twilight sky. "I'm scared, too."

I DRIFTED INTO SLEEP during the plane ride and dreamt of terrible things—bombs disintegrated my mom, the Capitol building evaporated, and vehicles melted in the streets. When I woke, sweat covered my entire body. My breathing was heavy, and I felt exhausted. Of course, no one knew what it looked like when the bombs went off, but my imagination easily filled in the blanks. I told myself that as I tried to gather my thoughts, but the dreams haunted the periphery of my mind.

The pilot came over the intercom. "We're approaching D.C. Please buckle up while I try to find a safe landing area."

Jones located a place after an hour or so, and we dipped below the clouds for our descent. Once we were under the cloud barrier, we were able to see ground zero from above. I had no words or emotions other than shock. It was all black and charred with ash everywhere. The massive crater in the