Buck Rogers and Elias reached the settlement shortly before the noon meal.

Before either man climbed down from the wagon, Buck called toward the kitchen.

"Rebecca!"

She stepped out onto the porch, wiped her hands on her apron, and smiled.

"You boys found something."

Buck grinned.

"We found more than something."

Samuel, Galileo, Jacob Yoder, Frank Cooper, John Miller, and several others gathered beneath the shade of the large oak tree.

Buck laid his clipboard across the table.

"The Kentucky Glass Container Factory is still standing."

A murmur spread through the group.

"And?"

Samuel asked.

"It isn't empty."

Buck looked toward Elias.

"I'll let him tell the rest."

Elias smiled.

"There are thousands of glass jars stacked on pallets inside the warehouses."

Rebecca clasped both hands together.

"I knew there had to be jars somewhere."

Elias continued.

"That's only the beginning."

Everyone looked at him.

"The warehouses are also filled with pallet after pallet of sheet glass. Enough window glass for hundreds of homes, barns, workshops, and public buildings."

Frank Cooper leaned forward.

"Hundreds?"

Jake, who had traveled back with Buck and Elias, nodded.

"If it's handled carefully, probably more."

Frank looked toward Samuel.

"I've been covering window openings with shutters."

Jake smiled.

"You won't have to."

Galileo looked thoughtfully across the gathering.

"A house changes the day it receives its windows."

Jake nodded.

"The wind stays outside."

Rebecca added quietly,

"And the light comes inside."

For a moment no one spoke.

Each person imagined the settlement with light filtering through clear glass instead of open shutters.

Buck turned another page on his clipboard.

"That's not all."

He looked toward Jake.

"Tell them."

Jake rested both hands on the table.

"The furnaces are there."

"The forming machines."

"The molds."

"The annealing ovens."

"The conveyors."

"The maintenance shop."

"The warehouse."

He paused.

"It's an entire glass factory waiting for someone to wake it up."

Samuel studied him.

"Would it run again?"

Jake answered without hesitation.

"Yes."

"How long?"

Jake thought carefully before speaking.

"If we tried to restore it where it stands..."

He looked back toward the road.

"...months."

Buck nodded.

"That's what I figured."

He pointed to another page.

"So I have another idea."

Everyone smiled.

Buck's ideas usually involved a great deal of work.

"We don't restore the factory."

He looked around the circle.

"We move it."

Jacob Yoder removed his pipe.

"The whole thing?"

Buck nodded.

"Every useful machine."

"Every tool."

"Every mold."

"Every furnace brick that can be salvaged."

Frank Cooper scratched his beard.

"We'd have to build another factory."

Jake smiled.

"I'd rather build a new one than spend months repairing an old one."

John Miller finally spoke.

"My loggers can supply every timber you'll need."

Jacob nodded.

"My masons will lay the foundations."

Frank smiled.

"My carpenters will frame it."

Galileo looked toward Jake.

"And you'll teach the people."

Jake looked around the table.

For the first time since the old world had changed, he saw not strangers, but fellow craftsmen.

"I've waited years for someone to ask."

Samuel rose from his chair.

"Then we begin tomorrow."

Buck opened his clipboard one last time.

"I've already started the list."

"Wagons."

"Teams."

"Rope."

"Blocking."

"Crates."

"Numbering every machine."

"Sketching every assembly before it's removed."

"Packing every bolt, gear, shaft, and bearing."

Elias smiled.

"I'll make sure every part finds its way home."

Rebecca stood.

"Before any of that..."

Everyone looked toward her.

"...every wagon that leaves this settlement will carry a good lunch."

Laughter spread around the gathering.

Samuel smiled.

"I believe that's settled."

As the meeting broke apart, Jake remained seated beneath the oak.

He watched children playing near the new houses.

Some of those homes already had empty window openings waiting to be filled.

He imagined filtered light pouring through clear glass, mothers setting jars of peaches upon pantry shelves, and apprentices learning a trade that had nearly vanished.

"This factory isn't coming back."

He smiled.

"It's going home."