Weavers of the Crystal Domes: Book One of Kudzu Worlds

Copyright © 2011 by Suzanne Strange.

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4620-1450-7 (pbk)

ISBN: 978-1-4620-1452-1 (clth)

ISBN: 978-1-4620-1451-4 (ebk)

Printed in the United States of America

iUniverse rev. date: 07/25/2011

Contents

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

PART ONE

HOW KUDZU SAVED OUR WORLD

CHAPTER ONE: LUNA

CHAPTER TWO: KUDZU

CHAPTER THREE: MICHAEL

CHAPTER FOUR: THE DOME-WEAVERS

PART TWO

LIFE IN THE CRYSTAL DOMES

CHAPTER FIVE: FAMILY MATTERS

CHAPTER SIX: LUNA IN LOVE

CHAPTER SEVEN: UNCLE PHIL

CHAPTER EIGHT: BIRTHDAYS

CHAPTER NINE: LUNA’S QUEST

CHAPTER TEN: MEGAN

CHAPTER ELEVEN: DYLAN

CHAPTER TWELVE: UNCLE RICHARD

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: WINTER HOLIDAYS

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE DOCUMENTARY

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: VISIONS

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: TRADER BILL

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: AT THE END OF THE RAINBOW

DEDICATED TO TRADER BILL

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I wish to thank friends and family members who dared me to write the story I had been talking about for twenty years, and graciously helped me to do so with their encouragement, suggestions, and frank criticism. Without their help, this book would never have been written.

Google and Wikipedia, the modern writer’s friends, were invaluable research aids, and even more so were two fascinating books by Southern authors: Despicable Species by Janet Lembke and Kudzu in America by Juanitta Baldwin.

PART ONE

HOW KUDZU SAVED OUR WORLD

CHAPTER ONE: LUNA

"As if she had found wings, light as the wind" from The Wakers by John Freeman

Beneath a sparkling crystal dome sprawled Queen City Middle School, a roofless brick building three stories high, where Ruth Weller had spent thirty years teaching English to restless seventh and eighth graders. On the first day of the 2115-2116 school year, she stood beside her pod and greeted students as they filed into her classroom and found their seats. The teardrop-shaped pod, with built-in seat, desk, computer, and storage compartments, was parked near the classroom’s left front corner, allowing students a clear view of the multi-screen monitor that filled the front wall.

On stackable plastic chairs, students sat in groups of four at long narrow tables embedded with touch-screen keyboards. In the Wi-Fied classroom, a student’s keyboard was used to download information from the monitor, process it with eyeware, ¹ and store it in a hidden data chip.²

On that day, Ms. Weller presented a writing assignment to all her eighth grade classes. At the beginning of every period she explained the assignment carefully:

During the next four weeks each of you will write an essay in the form of an autobiography at least five hundred words long. This will be done in addition to your other assignments. During that time we shall be reviewing grammar, sentence structure, and punctuation. We shall also read and analyze excerpts from biographies and autobiographies of famous people.

In every class, someone asked, Ms. Weller, what’s an autobiography?

It’s the story of your life, was her inevitable response. Look it up. On the board behind me you’ll see AUTOBIOGRAPHY neatly printed so you can find it in your dictionaries. I want each of you to write about important events in your life, what you did, what you learned, and how you feel. Tell what you plan to be doing twenty years from now. Think about what you want to say. Writing an autobiography will help you understand yourself and clarify your goals in life.

In every class, the question was asked, Is it okay if I write about somebody else instead?

Her response was always, No, it is not ‘okay.’ All of you have dictionaries in your data chips. Please look up the definition of ‘autobiography.’ No more questions. Anyone who has written at least two hundred words may bring the unfinished work to me for comment. I’ll be glad to look it over and make suggestions if you need help.

After the last student in the last class had left, Ruth Weller settled into her pod. She opened a small drawer, took out a bag of candy, and poured several Hershey’s Kisses onto her desk. Hello there, she whispered to the chocolates. I’ve been thinking about you all day.

Four weeks later, Ms. Weller stood before the first period class, most of her students watching her attentively through the lenses of their school-issued eyeware, hoping to not be asked to read, recite, or venture an opinion on anything. One girl was the exception, her eyeware resting on the table before her as she gazed absently at something—most likely nothing—beyond the teacher’s left shoulder.

Before we download your autobiographies, said Ms. Weller, I’d like one of you to read yours to the class. Do I have a volunteer?

No hands were raised. Fine, she thought. We’ll start with the Moon child. She looked directly at the daydreamer, and in a firm clear voice announced, Miss Reyes, let’s hear what you have to say.

It never fails, thought Luna. Whenever she doesn’t know who else to call on, my name pops right out of her mouth. Luna stood up, put on her eyeware, and walked to the front of the classroom. The microcomputer’s right temple pressed against her skin over an implanted data chip, the right lens was a monitor, transparent when not in use, and the left temple held a small earbud. Luna touched the right temple to activate the monitor, and read aloud as her essay scrolled before her eye:

"My name is Luna Reyes. I was born September 11, 2101 in a town called Mega City, on the far side of the Moon, and lived there until I was five years old. Everybody worked for Mega Mining, and they had come from nearly every country on Earth. They all wanted to celebrate the same holidays they had back home, so there seemed to be a parade somewhere in Mega City nearly every week. Santa Claus paid us a visit every Christmas Eve before making his rounds on Earth.

"I spent most of my time playing with friends in the Children’s Center. The Center had a big room with lots of toys and a playground with swings, slides, and plenty of space to play games. We learned to sing, count to ten, and speak a few phrases in several languages. I can still remember most of the things they taught us.

"On weekends, I went exploring with my parents, holding their hands as I walked between them. They used to lift me off the ground and swing me back and forth while they were walking. I loved for them to do that. We visited the greenhouses every week. Mama taught me the names of all the plants and insects we saw there. ‘Greenhouses are the Moon’s Garden of Eden. A greenhouse is a holy place,’ my mother used to say. I was always on my best behavior there. Sometimes my parents took me outside the complex, away from habitat gravity, so I could bounce around in my spacesuit. That was my very favorite thing to do.

"When I moved to North Carolina and saw kudzu for the first time, I didn’t know what to think. The only outside world I had ever seen before was the surface of the Moon, and nothing grows there.

I had never seen anything growing outside a greenhouse before. I thought the kudzu was creepy-looking, as if it wanted to reach out and grab me.

"Now I am used to the kudzu and the rain and I like living here. I have learned about music from my grandfather and weaving from my grandmother. My parents and grandparents even taught me to use an agbelt ³ when I was only five years old. I outgrew the belt several years ago, but didn’t get another because I am busy now with other activities. When I need a belt for a school project my teacher gets me one from the supply room.

"I like to do things with my friends. We take dancing and karate lessons together. Last year, my friend Ellie and I made up a funny dance routine that combined ballet and karate moves. Susie and Abby performed with us and we won third place in the seventh grade talent contest.

I’m not sure what I want to do when I grow up, probably something to do with science or health. Maybe I’ll be a safety inspector for Mega Corporation and live on the Moon like my parents did.

Very nice, Miss Reyes, said her teacher.

Thank you, Ms. Weller, Luna replied. She turned off her eyeware and returned to her seat.

Charles Reyes and Jenna Becker worked for the Moon Exploration Division of Mega Mining Corporation. Charles, a young structural engineer with a sturdy build and a serious demeanor, was a building inspector. One afternoon in 2099, he walked unannounced into the greenhouse where Jenna was working, showed her his company ID, and told her he was there for a safety inspection.

I’m an inspector too, said Jenna. "I worked a couple of years in a testing lab for the FDA,⁴ then took this job because I like to travel. What about you?"

I started with Mega right out of college, replied Charles. I wanted to see the world, and this seemed like a good way to do it. Or maybe not. So far I haven’t seen much except the Moon.

Their conversation continued through that night’s dinner and many