Humans live in a somewhat rustic colony, though they have contact with their Alliance friends and live happy lives. Some Havenworlders come down to study what life is like on worlds that have decided to eschew most technology, save for the very large, highly advanced, hospital kept well out of sight thanks to the treeline, though easy to access if needed.
Today, several individuals are making homemade soap and decided to show their Havenworlder tourists how such a thing was made in the historical past, from making the lye, to adding the fats and scents. -- Anon Guest
Everybody knows, on an intellectual level, that Humans are weird. Now and again, people need an empirical reminder of this fact. Such as: There are entire colonies dedicated to doing things "the old-fashioned way." This flies in the face of the concept of civilisation, where the primary goal was to get as far away as possible from the old-fashioned ways.
Many go there for holidays. A rare few -call them 'enthusiasts'- live there full time. They're happier earning their daily bread via the sweat of their brow. Though they do accept some modern conveniences. Such as a state-of-the-art medical facility with fast-flight ambulances and rapid comms devices to call them.
Rodd had come to visit a retired Human on his holidays. Done with exploring the universe, Human Gaz had commissioned a little cottage to get away from it all, and then they did. It was quite a thing to take a shuttle down to the planetary spaceport, and then a horse and buggy to Gaz's village. Gaz had advised him against the goat carts. In their words, "Those vicious little buggers'll have your hand off."
Deathworlders. They had a way of expressing themselves.
Slowing down to the pace of a draught animal made Rodd feel like he had gone back in time. So too did the abundance of hand-made everything in the surrounding areas. Of course, time travel was possible, but not useful[1]. Everything here was as concurrent to the era as he was, just... traditional.
Gaz was making bread when Rodd arrived. Sliding loaves into an oven that would also serve to keep the cottage warm in winter. The space was simple, efficient, and not nearly as dark and smoky as Rodd had believed from entertainments placed in similar settings.
It was even colourful.
After whitewash had gone over the walls, Gaz had evidently attempted to create murals of their adventures across any blank space. The use of charcoal, red ochre, and yellow ochre was abundant. The art... was mediocre.
Rodd was amazed. "From your tellings, I thought this would be a crude one-room space with no light and a lot of fat lamps."
Gaz laughed. "They make you think that in the dramas and stuff... people of the era liked having light, too. Even when they didn't have glass for the windows." They set up a meal and a chair for Rodd. "How's life in the fast lane?"
Something in the house... smelled. It smelled of a heat not borne of the oven. It smelled of chemicals and potential danger. "Are you running experiments here?"
"No, I have some soap brewing. Careful of that pot," Gaz pointed out a vessel that was steaming. "It's exothermic."
Rodd scooted his chair a little further away from the hazardous earthenware. "Will it explode?"
"I haven't made any exploding soap for months, I've got the trick of it now." This was not as reassuring as it should have been. "And don't worry, I haven't been doing this indoors the whole time. I learned after the first mistake."
There was a patch of flooring that was shinier than the rest and, Rodd had to note, a little on the singed side. "And you are happy living this way?"
"Yup," chirped Gaz. "It's more relaxing."
[1] Deep-time colonies, for instance, travel vast distances to arrive in the relative-past. They cannot come back owing to paradox crashes that eliminate anyone attempting it. All other time travel is forward at the rate of one day per day.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / Subbotina]
If you like my stories, please Check out my blog and Follow me. Or share them with your friends!
Send me a prompt [65 remaining prompts!]