Page 85 of The Outsider
We followed the road for what felt like a long time, then took a turn at an intersection marked by three oak trees.
“Where are we going first?”
“To the Taylors’,” John answered. “The ones working on building our own PNCs. The elder Taylors—Rebecca and Scott—are a married couple who were a scientist and an engineer in the Old World. Their three kids help them now, and one of them—Jackson—is the resident machinist. We need parts to repair the truck and the water system.”
I nodded. “How do they feel about me and Asha?”
“They voted for you to stay. You’ll get along fine.”
Cheered by that news, I leaned back into him, and he kissed the top of my head. I glanced back at Kimmy and Asha, who were riding behind us in silence. Kimmy looked a little upset, while Asha avoided eye contact. I sighed. I wanted to give Asha the benefit of the doubt, but it wasn’t hard to figure out that she wasn’t enjoying the ride and didn’t want to be there. The longer she kicked and screamed about her circumstances, the harder it would be for her to adjust, and the more she’d suffer as a result.
After all, I’d learned the hard way that refusing to accept my lot hadn’t changed it. Instead, I had to make the best of what I’d been given, and that path had led me to the man I loved and the beautiful, shining possibility of our life together in this place he clearly adored.
Maybe that was why since arriving in the Valley two days before, I’d felt little else besides excitement. I didn’t expect instant acceptance from anyone, but I had hope. The weight of the ring on my left hand reminded me that John needed me to be strong.
We rode until a fork appeared in the road, and we took a right. Eventually, we came upon another large, cleared stretch of land, surrounded by a wooden fence. Unlike at Summerhurst, the house was close enough to be visible from the dirt road. It was tall and white, with blue shutters and a matching door. However, as we drew closer, I noticed that there had clearly been several additions to the house since it was built: a sprawling west wing with blue siding; an east wing that was several storeys high and dwarfed the rest of the house; and a south wing that was mostly windows, probably functioning as a greenhouse. Like all the buildings at Summerhurst, every square inch of roof was covered with solar panels.
It was the strangest house I’d ever seen.
“The additions house different equipment,” Kimmy said, seeing my puzzled expression. “Because they handle most of the technical operations in the Valley, they don’t do much farming themselves. They’re busy keeping everything running. They have other manufacturing buildings elsewhere on the property.”
We tied the horses to a nearby hitching post before John knocked on the front door. An older man of perhaps sixty answered. He was tall and thin, balding, with thick-rimmed glasses that rested precariouslyon the bridge of his nose. He wore a simple black shirt and pants, with a calculator tucked into his breast pocket.
“Wondered when you’d all be dropping by,” he said with a kind smile, then turned to me and Asha. “Scott Taylor. Good to meet you.”
“Thank you for allowing us to stay,” I said earnestly. “We appreciate your faith in us.”
He waved it away. “When you’ve lived as long as I have, you learn that those who want to keep us in the past inevitably get left behind. We’ve needed new blood for ages. You’re welcome here.” He looked back to John. “I’m itching to get my hands on some more PNCs, and I’d bet that there’s no shortage of things you need to get Summerhurst up and running again. Come inside.”
We followed him into the strange house, down a long hallway that led to an office. To my surprise, the room was full of computers. I hadn’t seen a computer outside the Cave. They were old and had clearly been refurbished many times, but they were functional. Asha’s eyes widened at the sight of them, and she took a few steps between the desks.
“Never seen Wastelanders who had anything like this before,” she said.
“Glad you like it,” Scott said, seeming pleased. “Our technology is old, but we do our best to keep everything running as well as it can.”
He sat at a computer and typed up a list as John and Kimmy rattled off the various technical supplies we needed: parts for the truck, for the water system, and for the distillery. Scott had the parts for the water system on hand, but everything else would need to be specially made. He promised to deliver the rest when they were ready. John handed over a large number of PNCs in exchange, and Scott’s eyes lit up at the sight of them.
“Rebecca will be elated,” he said. “This should be enough to finish our research. Thank you.”
“There’s one other thing,” John said, nodding at me.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out the drive.
“I found this back at the compound—where we got the PNCs,” I said hesitantly, holding it out to him. “I wanted to know if you could open it.”
“Certainly,” Scott replied brightly, taking the drive from me. “I’ll have to scan it first to ensure there’s no malware, but after that, it should be no problem.”
He fiddled with his computer for a few minutes, then eventually plugged in the drive. I held my breath. I’d tried many times to imagine what Neil could’ve left for me without success. The mystery had nagged at the back of my mind for months.
“It’s encrypted,” Scott said, and I exhaled slowly. “And the encryption is fairly sophisticated—certainly beyond anything I could create here with my existing tech.”
“So, you can’t open it?” I asked anxiously. I wasn’t sure how I’d live with never knowing, but that’d always been a possibility.
“I may be able to decrypt it,” he answered, looking at me over his spectacles. “But I can’t say how long it’ll take. If you’d be willing to leave the drive here with me, I can give it my best shot.”
There was hope. “Of course. Thank you.”
He gave me a warm smile. “I’m happy to do it for the people who helped save our little community here.”
