Page 27 of Pocket Wife

The cooperative hall above us has finally emptied. Families went home in pairs, carrying copies instead of originals and instructions not to answer doors alone. The neighboring settlers have taken floor space in barns and spare rooms. Even the most stubborn voices have faded into exhaustion.

Below, only Lucy and I remain.

I ease the old cabinet open. Cold vapor curls over the table, revealing thin archive wafers wrapped in waxed cloth and a printed catalog with half its spine gone. The preservation quality is poor by Authority standards. By frontier standards, it’s a miracle.

Lucy doesn’t touch anything. For once, she waits.

I appreciate that more than expected.

“These predate the cooperative charter,” I say.

“Before the farms became official?”

“Before regional offices recognized them as permanent.”

“So, the years Helix keeps treating like empty wilderness.”

“Yes.”

I load the first wafer through a portable reader. The image flickers, stabilizes, then fills the projection field with handwritten meeting notes, water assignments, burial markers, and settlement rolls. Early names appear in uneven columns. Some human. Some not. A Solaris community from the beginning, not the simplified agricultural outpost Helix’s filings describe.

I begin indexing.

Lucy reads faster than I expect.

“There,” she says after several minutes. “First Hall Gathering.”

I enlarge the passage.

First Hall Gathering. Land-use vows. Water oath. Shared soil provision. No sale of common ground without full valley assent.

I go very still.

Lucy notices. “What?”

“Common ground restrictions.”

“Is that useful?”

“It predates the mineral reservation.”

“By how much?”

“Forty-three standard years.”

She straightens, fatigue vanishing from her face. “Then Helix’s claim sits on top of something older.”

“Potentially.”

“Rethan.”

My eyes move to her.

She points at the projection. “Do not potentially me. What does it mean?”

“It means the founders may have created a binding land covenant before any external claim could attach.”

Lucy’s hand lowers slowly. “A covenant.”