Yesterday's Tomorrow by Nathan Wolf, Wolf (adult books to read .TXT) 📕

"We produce far more electricity than we need. The excess capacity doesn't go to waste. We use it to crack water into hydrogen. Our location is so remote that it's impractical to import gasoline. That's why we've converted most of our vehicles to run on hydrogen fuel cells. The cabin is steam heated. We keep the fireplaces going for their psychological benefits rather than for heating value. Our relationship with fire is both a primal and tribal thing. There's something about fire and an open hearth that makes a house a home," Sheila said, as she tapped the ash off her cigarette into an empty water glass which now doubled as an ashtray.

"Let's take a walk. I've got a few things to show you two," Sheila motioned for us to follow as she exited the control room.

I couldn't help grinning. Sheila was beginning to sound like one of those infomercials on late night television. Just as she gilds the lily with more features than you could possibly imagine, she opens the next chapter with the words, "Wait! There's more..." or in this case, "I've got a few things to show you."

We followed the trail down to a winding passageway leading to another cavern deep within the mountain. After several hundred feet, the corridor emptied into an illuminated grotto. The air in the open space was thick with humidity and the rich scent of growing things. Before us was an expansive underground hydroponic garden, roughly the size of a football field.

The garden's computerized hydroponic system automatically operated with a minimum of human intervention. Row upon row of tomatoes, cucumbers, green peppers, and other vegetables thrived under a full spectrum array of an artificial lighting system.

There was a patch reserved for cannabis production. Forty or fifty dark green marijuana plants added a pungent and musky blend of sweet earthy fragrances to the air. Cannabis is packed with a bewildering variety of the same compounds and chemicals found in other plants. Kinda like a pleasant skunk flavored mint tea with a hint of mushrooms and lemon. Weird in a wonderful way.

"Our colony is nearly one hundred percent self-sufficient in the production of food. We hunt deer and elk and take one or two a week. We also have a herd of thirty-five or forty free-range cattle and two dozen swine, to say nothing of our flocks of free-range chickens. The only foods that we still import are wheat for flour, coffee, and sugar. We could grow winter wheat in the valley, but the fields would stand out like a neon sign on satellite imagery. Speaking of food, it's time for lunch," Sheila said.

The leader led us to an elevator shaft dug out of one side of the hydroponics room instead of following the route we had taken to the cavern. We emerged in the grand kitchen of the main cabin a few minutes later.

Our journey from cabin to cavern and back to the kitchen had left me in a daze. I felt like I had just witnessed an impossible magic trick performed with flawless precision. I blinked in the bright lights of the sisterhood's cookhouse and shook my head. How many more rabbits were hiding in the bottom of her hat?

Several sisters, a few dressed in aprons and nothing else, were busy fixing the colony's midday meal. Lunch consisted of the remainder of last night's venison stew, freshly baked bread, and a garden salad. The food looked and smelled as delicious as the naked backsides of the kitchen crew.

I didn't realize how hungry I was until I took a bite of the warm bread. The next several minutes passed without conversation as we consumed lunch in blissful silence. I tried to process what I had seen on Sheila's tour of the colony. What she and her family of sisters had constructed defied description, and was goddamned close to defying imagination. I wouldn't have believed such a thing was possible if I wasn't a witness.

"How did you find this place, and how did this community come to be?" I asked Sheila as I spread a pat of freshly churned butter on a new slice of warm bread.

"My father and I found this place by accident about thirty-five years ago. We were hunting on horseback and came up over a ridge, and we saw this spectacular valley below. The cabin was in ruins, but it was still beautiful. My dad knew these mountains like the back of his hand, but he had no idea this valley existed until the day we stumbled upon it." Sheila's eyes were closed as she shared her memories.

Several of the sisters took seats near us and listened intently to the conversation while the colony leader retold the story of the valley's discovery. Most of the lunchtime crowd was dressed in work clothes, although a couple of the women were nude. The mixture of dressed and undressed females was oddly erotic and distracting, and I had to force myself to listen and not to stare.

"We explored the cabin's wreckage. I was the one who found the old safe filled with stock certificates for the Liberty Mountain Mining Company, three hundred and forty-five thousand shares total. The original owners bailed when the gold ran out, and the mine went bust."

Sheila paused and chuckled before she continued. "They even left a note which described the gold mining venture as a fool's dream. Anyone stupid enough to try to make a go of it was welcome to the company and all its worthless holdings. We researched the business when we returned to Denver. Apparently, no one had filed to dissolve the corporation. Although dormant, it was still a legally valid entity.

"It took a bundle to clear hundred and sixty years worth of back taxes, fines, and fees Almost two hundred and forty thousand dollars to get on the right side of the law. It was worth every cent," Sheila said with a grin that would put the Cheshire cat to shame.

"Dad and I fixed the cabin up enough to be useful as a family hunting lodge. We came up to the mountains every year before he died. When he died, I became the sole owner of the Liberty Mountain Mining Company."

Her words ended in a sigh as she stared out the window at the cavern beyond. A single tear trickled down her face.

"God, how I miss that man," Sheila said softly in a barely audible whisper of remembered sorrow before she resumed her story.

"I continued to visit the cabin with friends and lovers after my dad passed. We fancied ourselves a ‘society of sisters' and often daydreamed of starting an all-women commune. Every week, we pooled our money and purchased lottery tickets. We planned to split any winnings among the players. We used to daydream about winning and held many discussions on what to do with our good fortune if we were so lucky. Then it happened. We hit the jackpot for seventy-five million."

The word about Sheila's history lesson spread and a dozen or more sisters joined the others at the table.

"Each sister could have cashed out with one point five million before taxes if we had split the money evenly, but the windfall would have been the end of our group. We decided, after much discussion, to pool our money and build a state of the art survival colony instead. The vote was unanimous," she said.

"I remember the vote well. I wasn't ready to live away from civilization, and turning my back on that kind of cash in my pocket was a tough choice. I considered the money as an alternative retirement account," Darlene said.

The attention to detail and planning which went into the colony's creation was impressive. Sheila and her group spent a year creating a shell company to redeem the seventy-five-million-dollar winning ticket. To avoid the public attention associated with winning a large jackpot, the Society created an LLC to redeem the prize. They drafted a charter and a set of bylaws governing the community's operation.

Everything was open and democratic according to Darlene's remarks and the comments from several sisters, at least as open as a secret society could be. Free and open elections for colony leadership resulted in Sheila's selection as leader, a post she had held without visible opposition since their inception.

Members of the family of sisters were fiercely loyal to each other and to their leader. The fact that I was accepted, or at least tolerated, by Sheila did much to improve my standing as a guest.

"I love what you've done to the place."

"The only thing missing is children," one of the women said to Sheila.

The comment about children hung like a pregnant pause in the air. Looking around, I was startled to see all eyes were on me as the phrase "founding father" took on a potentially new meaning.

"Children might be a nice addition," Sheila sighed.

The tour of the Liberty Mountain camp consumed most of the day, and I welcomed the chance to sit down and collect my thoughts. We were back in the cabin with about twenty minutes to spare before dinner. I wanted to use the time to clean up before supper.

Darlene had left to rekindle a long lost friendship or love affair. I had the evening to myself. Her parting words were, "Don't get into too many beds and if you do, save a spot for me." I had a real affection for Darlene. She was unusual in that she was emotionally loyal while also a free spirit when it came to sex.

We were as much fellow travelers as we were lovers. Ever try to force a cat to sit on your lap against their will? It never ends well for either the cat or the lap. The night belonged to me. I frankly welcomed a few solitary moments.

I went to our room, changed out of my clothes, grabbed a towel, a bar of soap, and visited one of the four community showers. Any hope of sneaking in for a quick scrub down without company ended when I entered the room.

The hour before the evening meal apparently was rush hour. I spotted the naked bodies of several females of various ages amid billowing clouds of steam. The way the light glistened off the women's skin sent a jolt of lust through me. The “slippery when wet” sensuality of water on bare flesh is a major turn-on.

I waited my turn by the sinks lining one wall. Out of instinct, I glanced around for a urinal to use. The designers of the women's restroom neglected to install plumbing for men, of course. Until I learned the practices and customs of my new home, situational awareness demanded that I be more mindful of my surroundings. Looking for urinals in a women's bathroom equaled a major brain fart.

My voyeuristic presence in the shower room remained unnoticed by the ladies, so I took the opportunity to watch and relax as the sisters frolicked under clouds of steaming water. Each of the sisters shared a common physical trait with the others. In fantastic shape, the naked bodies displayed the lean and well-toned appearance of women who worked and played hard. The clothing optional dress code produced