Scarey Rose in Deep History

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“History should not be ancestor worship,” Sarey Rose told them as she brought in the last of the time-viewer components and began to calculate how to form the microgates big enough for past light. Her hair was bound up for work. Whether or not she approved of the target, she was working.

“We need to see our ancestors as people,” Peter said. Wearing his family reunion T-shirt, he sat down in one of the reproduction chairs in the plantation house. Mulatto wasn’t a word that was used much these days, but Peter was significantly mulatto. His great-grandfather had owned his great-grandmother. The modern day family reunions included both sets of kin. So liberal, Sarey Rose thought, and such a neat way to avoid poor white trash. Now, he and his white half-kin had finagled use of the time-viewer to get back to the primal event. “After all, we’re all from here. And we’re pretty typical.”

“Who is this us?” Sarey Rose said. “I’m one of those people whose promised land was always the future. When the old regime fell, we rose like rockets. Typical wasn’t planters and their children.”

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