Where We Were When The Lights Went Out

Sometimes I forget we are on a planet in the middle of nowhere. 

Last night, long after the dark drew in, the bulbs blinked off. We only had three customers in, but a loud groan did the rounds. These punters were mining types, not afraid of the gloom. But they still needed to see what they were drinking.  

This is not the fiirst time we have encouraged a lack of light. Candles and lanterns will only get you so far when you are trying to serve beverages and keep a business running. 

Which is why I have the caterpillars.

They hide in a box in the cellar, covered by an old blanket. Five in total, each one  constructed of rubbery layers of ridges, forming a maggot like sausage. There may be some technical name for them, but I have always referred to them as the caterpillars.

I bought them off a pilot about a decade ago, and at the time I wondered if they were worth the twelve litres of homebrew cider. I have used them less than every two years. But when the lights go out, and anything might be out there in the dark, those caterpillars are my best friends. 

The stairs creaked on the way down to the cellar, and I kept one hand out. Off went the blanket with a cloud of dust. After a few shakes to get them warmed up, with the protest of stretching plastic they were off. 

It is clever enough that they crawl up the walls. Genius that they find a place to hang, and transform into pleasing orange orbs. But what is most fascinating is that they work in tandem. Several head to the corners. A few more space themselves across the ceiling, often picking a spot near the broken ceiling lights. Whatever the size and layout of your room, these nifty devices work together to optimise brightness. 

After fifteen minutes the light of tiny fireplaces hung above our heads. It was closer to camping than floodlights, but enough to get us through the evening.

I will share a story one of the miners told me next week. At some point I will put up what might have caused the powercut. The generator is a good half mile from the building, one of the few structures surrounded by fencing. It would take a good deal of effort to get inside. 

 I will let you know what I discover. 

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