Exiled to the Stars (13 page)

The Captain shrugged. "All the threats of violence I've seen involve your 'Guardians' threatening the residents of other dorms. The people of Dorm 22 deserve to live in peace, without threat from Marxist barbarians. Now, sit down!"

The tone of command caused her to thump back into her seat, but now she was looking worried.

"Now," the Captain continued, "Are there any other dorms that consider themselves threatened by their neighbors?"

Three hands shot up, and one rose slowly, timidly. The Captain nodded. "I notice that three of the threatened dorms are on deck 5, and are so-called 'Undie' dorms. That is not unexpected, given the higher proportion of violent criminals in that population."

He frowned. "I'm afraid that militias are not a realistic option in those dorms. All I can promise is intensified surveillance and swift punishment for violent behavior.

Cesar spoke up. "Perhaps there is another option available, Captain. I've mentioned the positive effect Ron Creding and his friends have had on our dorms.

"Now, all the dorms were full when we lifted off, which was why Ron and Vlad had to bribe people to swap bunks. Unfortunately, I understand there have been a number of deaths, leaving open bunks. I would not be surprised if some of the 'Drone' dorms were willing to accept educated refugees who could serve as teachers, much as Ron and his friends serve ours."

An oriental man from, Ron thought, Dorm 11 shook his head. "We do not need Undie castoffs." He glared at Cesar. "Or Filipino ones, either. Keep your fanatics and criminals!"

The Captain nodded. "Thank you, Messer Lu. But perhaps Messer Montero has a point." He seemed lost in thought for a moment. "How about this? Suppose I begin broadcasting a daily list of available bunks that everyone's tablet can receive? If the Council Representative, like Messer Lu, here, does not wish to accept immigrants from other dorms, they can inform me, and I will show their dorm with no vacancies. If you wish to limit immigration to, say, Koreans," he said with a nod toward Messer Lu, "or Muslims," nodding toward a dark man with an eagle-beak nose, "we can show that on the listing. If you have specific requests, say for English-speakers, we can also list that. We have had over one hundred twenty deaths to date. Sadly, many of those were murders or suicides. The point is, though, that there are that many empty bunks aboard, and many people, particularly in the Undie dorms, who would like to relocate.

"In case you missed it, I would like to emphasize something Messer Montero said earlier. In Dorms 7 and 8, only English is being spoken, and nearly everyone is taking English classes.

"Since everyone aboard has a universal translator in their ears, it really doesn't matter what language a person speaks. We've all gotten used to someone's mouth moving in a different language, while we hear our own.

"But all machines wear out eventually, even those with no moving parts. The only spare translators aboard are those taken from the dead.

"My point is that it is
essential
that we all learn to speak a common language. The obvious choice is English, since most of us have had at least
some
exposure to it."

"Hmph!" Messer Lu grunted. "Perhaps the Filipinos are willing to sacrifice their heritage and assume the customs of the conquerors, but we will not!

"What heritage?" replied Cesar. "We will never see the Philippines again, as you will never again see Korea. Should we preserve the customs of a land that will be only a legend to our grandchildren? Shall we make certain that those grandchildren cannot communicate with others in the same colony or learn from the computers because we refused to teach them English?

"Perhaps you are correct," he continued. "Perhaps we
are
sacrificing our old heritage. Have you not realized that this is the end of our
old
heritage, and the beginning of a
new
heritage that we must create? Face it, old man. Korean language and culture
will
die in our colony. Filipino language and culture as well, along with German, French and a dozen other 'conqueror' languages and customs. In a century, few in our colony will even understand the difference between a Filipino and a Korean. In two, there will be few blue-eyed blondes, and I suspect that nearly all the people of our colony will be short, dark-haired, and brown." As Messer Lu looked stubborn, Cesar shrugged. "Go ahead," he went on. "Waste what remains of your life trying to preserve a language and culture that is doomed to disappear. But do not doom your young to a life as peasants because they cannot communicate with the other members of the colony."

Lu's expression was thunderous. "Korean culture will
not
disappear. We will not permit it! To do so would be to dishonor our ancestors! Sacrifice
your
heritage if you will; Filipinos have been western lapdogs for centuries anyway!"

Cesar laughed aloud. "You really think to anger me by insulting a culture of which I am no longer a part?" He turned to address the others. "This fossil thinks to ensure that his people will forever be drones, never a full partner in the colony.
My
people will be full partners, educated and able to understand more than 'Go here', and 'Dig here', and 'Carry this'. I encourage all of you, eastern and western alike, to follow our lead. There is no doubt that English will be the dominant language of our colony. If you are wise, you will not only accept, but will seek out those who can teach your children, to help make them the future leaders of a thriving colony.

"This colony will need people with all the education and skills they can gain. I have many disagreements with EarthGov. But they have given us the greatest tool possible for building a colony: education and wisdom. The Captain said that many dorms have people simply sitting and complaining. I find this hard to believe. Sitting and complaining? How
dare
they?

"Think about how many different skills will be required to successfully create a colony! We will need people who know how to raise crops and livestock, to farm and to build. One of the immigrants I most value is a young woman who was a prostitute in Nawlins. But she was raised on a farm! She
knows
how to butcher a hog, to skin a deer, plow a field, clean a fish, and hunt with a rifle. Who do you think will be more valuable to our new colony? The ex- prostitute who
knows
, or Ms. Welsey, here, with her Masters degree in Political Science?"

"We're going to need people to butcher those hogs, but we're also going to need people to cut down trees, to run heavy equipment, repair that equipment, cook, build strong, weatherproof houses, and do thousands of other tasks we don't even know about, yet. No one has the
right
to simply sit and complain! They are cheating us! They are robbing our colony of the skills they could be learning, that could end up saving our lives!"

Cesar was red-faced. He stopped took a deep breath, and gathered his temper. He turned a rueful grin on the Captain. "I'm sorry, Captain. I had no right to become angry. But I find incredible the idea that someone wants to carve Buddhas and speak obsolete languages, or sit on their bottoms and demand that others provide for them."

The Captain waved a dismissing hand. "No apology necessary, sir. And may I say that though Filipino culture and language may die out, apparently Filipino wisdom is in full flower. I can only add that though many manual skills will be in demand, we will also be in dire need of teachers, and architects, and engineers, many engineers, both civil and mechanical, and perhaps later even aeronautical. There are few of these professions represented among the colonists, of course. They are the skills EarthGov is trying desperately to retain for itself.

"The ship's computer is capable of taking an intelligent but illiterate person, and turning them into any of those things. Messer Montero is correct. If the people of your dorms are sitting around complaining, they are cheating the rest of us. It will be the job of the Council to motivate them, to make them understand their importance to the colony. Some will never understand the necessity, and some will simply be too lazy." He shrugged. "We can only hope that once we reach a planet, they die without taking too many good people with them.

"In the meantime, I consider each of you the temporary Council delegates of your dorms. You have a week to hold elections for permanent delegates. Any dorm that does not hold an election within the required time will be considered to be unrepresented, and its temporary delegate refused entry into future meetings. Our next meeting will be one week from today. I hope to see many of you then. This meeting is adjourned. Messer Montero, Messer Creding, Messer Adams, please wait."

The representatives began to file out, Messer Lu obviously furious, Ms. Welsey looking haunted, perhaps even frightened.

Cesar and Ron approached the Captain, who smiled a welcome. "Excellent show, Messer Montero. I couldn't have scripted it any better."

Cesar looked hurt. "I'm sorry, sir, but it wasn't scripted. I apologize for losing my temper."

Captain Angelo nodded. "I know. What I meant was that had I scripted a speech, it could not have been as effective as your simple sincerity. But the reason I asked you to stay is to ask if I may feel free to refer other dorm delegates to you. I'm sure your wisdom can benefit other dorms as much as your own."

Cesar nodded. "Of course, Captain. But I fear I have little wisdom to impart. We have mostly proceeded using a modicum of common sense.

The Captain smiled. "Ah! But there is nothing more
un
common than common sense. That will pass as wisdom for me. Oh, and tell your Messer Koh that I applaud his efforts, and look forward to meeting him."

He turned to Ron. "And you, sir. The idea man. The imagination that powers the wisdom."

Ron reddened and shook his head. "Not at all, sir. Nearly all of the ideas have been Cesar's or Raymond Koh's. My last good idea was to escape Dorm 17."

The Captain chuckled. "That was a good one, all right. But I don't forget your plans for the schematic. Please keep thinking. Imagination is nearly as priceless as wisdom."

The Captain turned to Adams. "Messer Adams, Messer Montero and Messer Creding." The three shook hands as the Captain continued, "Messer Creding is the man who came up with the idea of using the weapons I will be providing you."

Adams smiled. "Then I'm sure they'll be effective. What are they?"

Ron explained, while cursing the fact that he hadn't brought a sample with him.

Captain Angelo waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. Messer Adams, I will be activating a series of VR lessons in your dorm's computer terminal that will teach you and your people how to use the batons. However, I am concerned that Ms. Welsey and her thugs not have access to those lessons. The batons are remarkably versatile weapons. I suspect it will prove difficult or impossible to prevent the Dorm 21 thugs from obtaining a sample; but without the training, the batons are simply rather cumbersome billy clubs."

"Perhaps you can classify them somehow," Ron suggested.

The Captain nodded. "To a certain extent, I can, and will. I can, for instance, require that Messer Adams or an instructor that he designates be present, and use a codeword to activate the lessons. Obviously, though, that is not a foolproof precaution."

Adams shrugged. "It should be sufficient. I'm too fat and old to be swinging a club, but I have someone in mind. Add a code word, and he'll die before he tells it."

Captain Angelo nodded. "Good. All right, check with him and then send me his name. It will be necessary for you to be present to introduce him to the computer as your surrogate. After that, the lessons will
only
be available when he is present and uses the code word.

******

Cesar was elected Council Delegate in a landslide. In fact, no one willing to run against him could be found.

Much to the chagrin of Reynaldo Pereira, Vladimir Renko was elected to represent Dorm 8. He and Raymond Koh were seen deep in conversation just before Vlad was called to the Council meeting.

There were a number of new faces at the meeting, and several notable absences, including those of Dorms 11 and 21. The Captain explained that no election had been held in Dorm 11, and that Dorm 21's election had been clearly fraudulent, with obviously coerced voters.

The Dorm 17 delegate looked nervous, but the Captain had assured him that with Reilly and Paco dead, and four others arrested by redsuits, no other thugs seemed willing to try to step into Reilly's shoes. The new delegate was almost pathetically grateful to the Captain, who dismissed his effusive thanks with a wave.

The main topic of conversation at this meeting was currency and trade. Well-primed by Raymond Koh, Vlad proposed that they institute a temporary currency, based on the beer ration. Vlad proposed that the ship issue paper scrip in values of 1/10, 1/5, 1/2, 1, 5, and 10 bulb values. Vlad explained that these would permit trade involving fractional values.

Each colonist was issued six bulbs of beer per week, which he could withdraw at any time. Thus, colonists could draw them one at a time or all at once. He could keep or drink the six bulbs, of course, but Vlad proposed that they also be able to exchange them for scrip. The scrip could be redeemed by the mess room dispenser or by anyone having enough beer.

Vlad explained how Raymond Koh's Bingo games worked, and explained how Raymond had been using EarthGov credits as 1/10-bulb bills. A number of the delegates seemed as interested in the Bingo games as the currency idea. But Raymond was not the only entrepreneur aboard.

The Dorm 4 delegate related how his resident farmer was growing luxury foodstuffs and trading with several other dorms, including Raymond's, but that he was becoming discouraged by his own success. He was having trouble storing all his beer, and there simply was not enough trade to use it all up. The delegate was excited about Vlad's idea, and his enthusiasm was infectious. Add in the delegates suddenly interested in Bingo, and the proposal passed easily. The Captain also agreed, though he cautioned the delegates not to allow gambling games to get out of hand, and only reluctantly agreed to the printing of playing cards.