considered, I’m simply the scribe for this gathering of sages. He picked up his pencil, and kept his mouth shut.
His father, having anticipated that the group would be eager to assess the area’s resources, was prepared to address Hertzler’s challenge. With Nordstrom’s consent, he had asked two of the native South African engineers to make themselves available. They were Pieter Kemm of the Richards Bay Minerals Company and Kelvin Marshall of Sasol Limited. These men had originally been invited to join the seminar not only because of their personal talents, but also because of the unique technologies in which their respective companies were engaged. The Council would learn more about those technologies presently, but for now Hardy called upon the men to provide a general overview of the survivors’ new surroundings.
Both Kemm and Marshall had been traveling with their wives and children, and so, like most of the passenger group, were spared the ultimate calamity of losing those dearest to them. Still, they found it difficult to look out at their devastated homeland at the same time that they were trying to describe it. They carried on, however, and their spirits seemed to lift as the session progressed.
“Look at this nation of ours,” Kemm said, pointing to a map that hung from a makeshift easel of tree branches lashed together with nautical ropes. He was a slim, youngish-looking man of average height with red hair, and he paced back and forth as he spoke. “Let me tell you about it. We cover the bottom of the African continent, reaching from our westernmost point—where the Orange River flows into the Atlantic Ocean forming our border with Namibia—to where we are now, almost fifteen hundred kilometers—more than nine hundred miles—directly to the east, on the shore of the Indian Ocean. It’s about the same distance from the Cape on the south to the farthest point in the north, where we abut Botswana, Zimbabwe, and Mozambique.
“You may have heard that this land is blessed with natural resources, and it is. But believe me, these resources are not uniformly distributed. Far from it. Two thirds of the country, running from the Atlantic coast inland, is either desert or semidesert. This bleak landscape is largely caused by the cold Benguela Current that runs north along the Atlantic shore. Near Cape Town, where the Atlantic meets the Indian Ocean, there is a narrow coastal area that has what we call a Mediterranean climate, with hot and dry summers and cool and wet winters. But the truly fertile part of the country, fa vored by ample rain—thanks to the warm, south-flowing Agulhas Current of the Indian Ocean—is along the east coast, and that is exactly where we find ourselves today. This coastal strip, which is fairly narrow, and runs inland only twenty to fifty kilometers before the land begins to rise, has a humid, subtropical climate. The soil will support many types of vegetation, and much of the area was committed to growing citrus produce, bananas and various tropical fruits, eucalyptus, and most of all, sugar cane, of which more than two million tons per year were produced, half of it for export. We sure as hell won’t have use for all that cane; but it’s good to know that we can cultivate many different crops in these conditions.
“When I was a boy, living in Durban, just down the coast from where we are now, we would raise avocados, mangos, guavas, pineapples, whatever, merely by scraping the ground and then putting the seed or pineapple cutting in the hole. In no time we would have a plant. In other words, we can grow food here without fancy irrigation systems, or fertilizers, or sophisticated agricultural techniques. You have to admit that’s an advantage. All great civilizations are born where crops can be grown readily. I don’t say that this coastal strip is paradise. During much of the year, it is hot and uncomfortably muggy. Farther north along the coast—closer to the equator—malaria can be a problem. Although maybe the recent events have disconcerted the mosquitoes. That would be nice. Taking it all together, however, it’s my opinion that if one is going to be shipwrecked, this is a pretty good shore on which to set up housekeeping.”
“It sounds almost too good to be true,” John Hertzler said.
“And the best is yet to come,” Pieter replied. He faced the assembly, standing still for a moment as the sun set in front of him, illuminating his face and bright hair. “As we move inland, the topography rises into fertile hills through which run numerous rivers. About one hundred kilometers from the coast the elevation varies from about five hundred to one thousand meters, and the climate becomes what is called temperate, subtropical—the summers are hot, but the winters are cool and clear. The natural vegetation is grassland and thicket, wooded valleys, grassy hillsides and evergreen forests. We overcut our trees through the years, just like people in other parts of the world; but then we came to our senses and started to cultivate lots of pine, bluegum and other varieties—the largest man-planted forests in the world—some of them not far from here. We’ve had enough trees to support substantial manufacturing of paper and other timber products, so there should be more than enough wood to provide for our needs.
“I guess you could say that corn is our basic crop, our staff of life. It is grown in abundance, both for cattle and as a staple for the human population. We don’t harvest as much per acre as the Americans do; but we still get plenty, believe me. We also grow wheat, beans, potatoes, just about anything you could want, both on large commercial farms and in small privately cultivated gardens. Fruit like peaches and pears, which tends to be infested with worms when cultivated along the coast, does just fine in the hills where the cool winter nights make short shrift of the insect pests. And let’s not forget the grain sorghum, which is good for a lot of things, not the least of which is making beer.”
“Beer is nice, but I’d rather have livestock.” This came from Harry Wills, one of the outspoken Texans whom Hardy had included on the Council.
“Ah, someone is curious about livestock,” Pieter said. “Well, there are—or at least were—more than twelve million cattle in South Africa, both beef cattle and dairy. As you probably know, among the Zulus and other indigenous tribes, cattle are well cared for and seen as a symbol of wealth and prestige. And on the large commercial ranches, cattle-tending has been raised to a fine art. Our animal husbandry has been admired throughout the world. We have managed to avoid the deadly tsetse fly, partly through dili gence, but mainly through a fortuitous combination of landscape and climate. As for sheep, we have more than you can count, so you needn’t worry for woolen garments, or hides, or for the occasional lamb chop. There are also lots of chickens and eggs. And pigs—many thousands of pigs. And let’s not forget about the wild game. Native animals were hunted to near extinction in the past; but there are now numerous game farms in KwaZulu Natal. Many species have been protected with tourism in mind, also to stock zoos in other lands, and for purposes of ecological preservation. And, let me add, for food. I’m fond of antelope myself.
“Finally, about three hundred kilometers inland lie the Drakensberg Mountains, rising to thirty-five hundred meters, part of the Great Escarpment, which runs in a north-south direction, separating the eastern coastal area from the great inland plateau. If you ever get to the point where you can rest from your work and take in some sights, this is among the most glorious scenery in the world.”
At this point, Robert Barkin of Lucent Technologies raised a question that, judging from the approving nods and comments, had been on many minds: “Aren’t you forgetting about the natural disaster we’ve just experienced? What’s left of this paradise after the ravages of fire and flood?”
“Maybe I can make us all feel a little better,” said Harold Carson, the director of FEMA. “First of all, we will learn more from the expeditionary group very soon. But let me assure you that the earth has wonderfully vigorous recuperative powers. You remember when Mount St. Helens erupted—back in 1980, I think it was—burying the countryside inches deep in ash? Well, within a few months there were ferns and trees sprouting on the slopes, and nearby farmers replanted their fields the very next growing season. An even better example is the eruption of the Indonesian volcano, Krakatoa—that was in 1883, a famous date in the history of natural disasters. That big bang propagated tsunami waves that swept nearby shores to a height of more than forty meters, leaving them bare and covered with a gray, muddy deposit. Within four weeks, with the coming of rain, fresh grass appeared, and splintered coconut and banana trees sprouted new shoots. Also, as you well know, most forest fires don’t do lasting damage. In fact, periodic burning is in many ways beneficial to the soil. Unless nature has some more nasty tricks up her sleeve, the earth should convalesce, and much more quickly than you’d think.”
Pieter Kemm took a deep breath and came to his conclusion: “It is good to hear what Mr. Carson has to say, and that bears out my own optimism. I feel in my heart that this bounteous land will recover from the onslaught of flame and salt water, and will provide for us. I apologize if I sound like a real estate promoter, but I have given you the facts as I know them.”
“Terrific,” John Hertzler interjected, “and as I said, almost too good to be true. I’m looking forward to seeing those nice crops being harvested—assuming we live to see that happy day. But when I ask about resources, I’m not just thinking about filling my stomach.” He patted his paunch for emphasis. “What about metals and chemicals and energy and all those things we will need to climb out of the Stone Age back into the modern world?”
“Kelvin Marshall has a lot of that information,” said Wilson Hardy, “and he assures me that we’ll be
