To Wake the Living (The Time Stone Trilogy Book 2)

by Robert F Hays

  “Yep,” another man said. “You should have seen my next door neighbor panic. He was an accountant and they were only taking a small percentage, and only if they had a secondary skill. I have a mental picture of the scene when I left. Dead lawn, dead trees, sweat from the heat and humidity rolling down his face. He was a dead man walking.”

  “I think that the faces I saw are going to haunt me,” another woman said. “Neighbors I knew well stared at me through their windows with a look that was half way between begging and horror. I didn’t say goodbye to my best friend. She was a commercial artist for an advertising agency and thought that things would be just fine.”

  “Hey I loved saying goodbye to some people,” said a short thin man in his early thirties. “I was the gardener for the Mace family. You all have probably heard of Mace California Fashions, the big clothing chain.”

  He looked around at slight smiles and an occasional nod from his fellow colonists. Jim also nodded. He didn’t recognize the name but understood.

  “Well,” the man continued, “those stuck up turds just continued with their lives as though nothing much was happening. The old guy had died. He’s the one that started the company. If he had lived, then he’d probably be here with us and left that useless family behind. But them idiots kept shopping their life away and complaining to me that the roses were dying. The granddaughter used to come out and order me to turn the sprinklers on or I’d be fired. I told her that I would prefer to be fired than arrested by the water police. She threw a fit when they cut off the mains about a year ago.” The man paused and looked around. He was obviously momentarily confused by the concept of time and his relative position.

  “We understand,” a woman said.

  “So do some of us,” Jim added.

  “Well,” the man continued, “I had something they didn’t. I had knowledge of something useful. For years I used to work in their green house. I studied methods of crosspollination and selective plant breeding. Took courses online and got myself a diploma. They used to take all the credit for my prize winning orchids. Three new varieties are registered under their names not mine, but I have the diploma.

  “When I got my call up notice, I thought I’d do the right thing and tell them instead of just disappearing. The granddaughter looked at me strange like and asked me who would take care of the gardens when the rains came again. She then exploded and told me that she’d refuse to write me a reference. I hope no one here minds if don’t have a reference from my last employer.” The others chuckled. “In the week since they woke me up I’ve wondered what happened to them.”

  “Gone with the wind?” Earl said.

  Jim looked around, mildly taken aback by the poetic comment from the former bulldozer operator.

  “I’ll bet you were relieved when that transport showed up,” Carol said.

  “Not really,” another man said. “Between Chicago and the launch site at Hays Kansas we were ambushed twice. Gangs tried to massacre colonists and assume their identity. Even when we got to the launch site, we had to defend a perimeter. We were there three months protecting the launch before ours. Then another group turned up to cover us as we loaded.”

  “I came from Liverpool,” another man added. “We had to just about fight our way to Mildenhall. Then we were delayed four months because a local warlord had captured the shipment of cryo chambers and was holding them for ransom. We had to wait for another shipment. It was a fight to get a slot, it was a fight to get there and even while they were putting us to sleep we didn’t know if we’d ever wake up again.”

  “That’s why them two in there should die,” a woman said. “The people whose places they took worked for their positions. Those shit heads did nothing then got on board at the point of a gun. I studied every night for years to get my secondaries and almost gave up chatting to keep my family to two children.”

  “Chatting?” Chris said making an entry on the pad he had just picked up.

  A general low laughter broke out amongst the colonists and the woman who spoke flushed with embarrassment.

  “It’s a joke,” she explained. “When industry and manufacturing shifted its emphasis to space, many products disappeared. Contraceptives weren’t unavailable and sterilization instantly lowered your status on the list, so the government went on a campaign preaching sexual abstinence to reduce the birth rate. So, whenever a young couple were found alone together the joke was that all they were doing was chatting.”

  A broad grin of recognition crossed Jim’s face. “Was that chatting or yakking.”

  “Chatting, yakking, gabbing, different areas used different terms but they all meant the same thing. Why do you ask?”

  “Yakking is the current slang term for having sex.”

  Chris rapidly made an entry. “Yakking is an extremely old expression. We had no idea of its origin until now.”

  “How come you modern guys ain’t all bloody Arabs?” asked the Australian who had spoken earlier.

  “Arabs?” Chris said.

  “Yeah, them Arab countries were getting the greatest percentage of their population off the planet when we left.”

  “How was that?” Jim said.

  “At first it was money. They didn’t build ‘em, they just bought the ships they wanted. When money became worthless, they used oil. We needed the oil to make plastics and they played that fact for all it was worth. Them buggers just sat back and let us and the Japanese do all the work.”

  “We were discussing that a few months ago,” Chris said, turning to Jim. “There were many Arabic speaking colonies, but few survived more than a decade. You tell them the theory we came up with, Jim.”

  “It was the structure of their society. Colonizing a planet is a totally different situation to the Old Earth frontiers. Advanced technology is the key to success, and the more skilled the population the better. The Arabic society kept females in the home and discouraged their education. When they arrived at a planet they found half their population was useless. The unskilled housewife had a function in the old west, but were a food consuming burden in a planetary colony.”

  “Serve them pricks right,” the Australian chuckled. “In Australia, we had vast reserves of aluminum, titanium, iron and other rare metals, but just about gave it away for the common good. The name’s Dan by the way.”

  “Matt here,” said the man from Chicago.

  “Australia was a pretty dry place when I left,” Jim said. “What happened when the Earth warmed even more?”

  “We went the opposite to America. Poured raining day and night. The whole central desert became an inland sea. Can’t farm water. We had to rely on food from Canada and New Zealand. We all had a good cooperative system going. Food from Northern Canada, New Zealand and England, which were almost tropical. Raw materials from Australia, and American industry and technology. The English speaking countries were second only to the Arabs in percentage leaving, but we were fair about things. We gave away anything we could spare to Japan, Europe and China.”

  “But ya took care of yourselves first,” Sam commented. “Ain’t that what them there Arab fellahs was a doin’.”

  “There was more to it than that. We told them they could have what they needed so long as they did some of the work themselves, which they didn’t. Now we’re the ones laughing.”

  Jim thought for a moment. “With everything going on it sounds like those two men have a legitimate plea of temporary insanity. That goes for everyone else too. How many of this colony’s general population do you think did at least something unethical to gain their position? The only difference being that they weren’t found out.”

  “Three of the group just reacted,” Herb said in Jim’s ear. “It’s the general consensus of the psych team to keep their identities anonymous.”

  “Agreed,” Jim mumbled, “and welcome back Herb.”

  “Oh hell,” a woman said while jumping to her feet and throwing the blanket around her shoulders to the ground. “I heard you all tal
king on the radio about what person was telling the truth. Those damn long range lie detectors you have will sooner or later let you know that I...”

  “Hold on there,” Sam interrupted. “Ah don’t wants ta know whats ya did bafore ya comes here. Ah jest wants ta know what y’all are a goin’ ta do here. Seems like everyone was crazy fer a spell. Ah jest wants ta know who is going ta stay crazy.”

  “That’s why you should execute them two,” Matt said. “They got here and continued with their shit.”

  “What would you have done if they had surrendered to you when you arrived,” Jim said.

  “See,” Dan said. “You lot would have shot all of them. They had to continue or they’d be dead.”

  “But what use are they?” Matt countered. “They either have no skills or are not proficient enough to be productive.”

  “We can train them,” Chris said. “The modern methods can make just about anyone useful.”

  “Most of their women are hookers,” Matt said. “What use are they going to be?”

  “I can think of a few things,” Dan said. “But the missus will beat the crap out of me when she wakes up.”

  The man’s comment met with general amusement and Jim was thankful for the humor as it tended to ease the mood.

  “Then that’s ma decision,” Sam announced. “If’n they swear ta become good citizens ah will give them amnesty.”

  “And we’ll know if they’re lying,” Jim added. “I suggest we hear their stories and decide on a case by case basis.”

  “You have a positive reaction from the majority,” Herb said. “Only a couple are still antagonistic. Will warn you if they look like they are about to do something.”

  Sam turned and called back to Mort. “Bring out one of them there fellahs.”

  Minutes later, Mort escorted a tall, thin, blond male in his early twenties toward the group. He nervously glanced from glaring face to face as he bit his lower lip. He was stopped in front of Sam who looked him straight in the eye. “Now young fellah, jest answer a few questions so we can decide on your future. You probably know by now that we can tell if’n y’all are a lyin’.”

  Chris pulled a cube from an attachment on his belt and placed it on a crate. “Everyone will be able to hear the analysis from this.”

  “I have to make one announcement,” said a male voice from the box. “Under the laws you have accepted for your government, truth analysis by voice stress and infra red means has been found to be ninety nine point two percent accurate. As long as that announcement is made, the analysis is admissible as evidence in a court of law.”

  “And this is a court of law,” said Sam who then turned toward the cube. “Ah... is it?”

  “Affirmative. Your country has not as yet rescinded martial law imposed in 1862 AD. This would be better designated as a court martial. You have the powers to preside over such a hearing under your own authority. In a civilian court, it would also require the defendant’s permission for a public disclosure, but not at a court martial.”

  “So, young fellah, what is your name and what work did ya do?”

  “Michael Cox and I was studying to be a stock market analyst.”

  Sam frowned. “Ah... If’n y’all were experienced at sellin’ beef cattle couldn’t...”

  Jim tried to conceal a smile as he tapped Sam on the shoulder. “Different type of stock and different type of market Sam. It’s a profession that had little application to a colony.”

  “Oh.. Ah.. Well then, why didn’t ya larn somethin’ useful and get on one of these here ships the right way.”

  “It was my father. I was fifteen when the Exodus was announced and he kept telling me to trust in God and nothing bad would happen. He wanted me to get into a profession that when the stupidity was over there would be a shortage. Everyone was getting out of that profession and going technical.”

  “So, what y’all do when ya found out you was wrong?”

  “Dad told me it was God’s will and that we were all going to die for our sins. He was a very religious man. I guess I made the mistake of believing him.”

  “So what changed your mind?”

  “I went to his house one day and found him packing. I don’t know how he did it, but he got himself a slot on a ship. By then I was too old to be classified as a dependant. I couldn’t go with him.”

  “Then why did ya fall in with them there Stutchmans?”

  “I was so pissed at the hypocrisy of my father and chances I’d missed I had to do something. I felt like I had to get out any way I could and Stutchman offered me the chance.”

  “Statements sincere,” the voice said.

  “This is ridiculous,” Matt said. “You screwed up, so why didn’t you just stay there and die? The fault was yours, not the person’s whose slot you took.”

  “Just a minute,” Jim interjected. “If you were in the same position would you have just stayed there and died? Think for a moment before you answer that question.”

  Matt looked Jim straight in the face. “Yes I would have,” he said slowly.

  “Statement insincere,” the voice said.

  “Fuck you!” Matt said in the direction of the box.

  “Now that statement was definitely sincere,” the voice said.

  Everyone in the cave started laughing. As the laughing continued Matt hung his head. “Ok, ok. So? I’d have done the same.”

  “Statement sincere,” the voice said.

  Sam placed his hands on his hips and bowed his head for a moment. “In sixty six after the war ah did thaings ah am ashamed of. Ah stole food ‘cause ah was hungry. Ah cheated and lied. Ah didn’t care who went without, all ah knowed was that ah had ta live. This here fellah did the same thaing.”

  “Now I wish I had stayed there and died with the rest,” the young man said, looking down. “I’m perfectly willing to do my share of the work, but having to support those Stutchmans makes me sick. They don’t want to do their part.”

  “Statement sincere,” the voice said.

  “Well,” Sam said, looking around in confusion, “ah never been in no court. Ah has seen a court martial, and ah didn’t like that, so ah am jest makin’ thaings up as ah goes along. Ah will ask y’all. Should ah gives this here fellah amnesty?”

  Jim watched as one by one hands rose until all but three were held high.

  Finally Matt lifted his and shook his head. “Are you going to give the Stutchmans amnesty too?”

  “If’n they want ta work like the rest of the people.”

  “Fat chance.”

  “That there man Ben is mighty fat but...”

  “An expression Sam,” Jim said. “It means that there’s no possibility for that to happen.”

  “Well, we still gotta give them a chance.”

  “What the hell can this guy do?” demanded one woman who didn’t raise her hand. “In a working colony, he’d be useless.”

  Jim slapped his side and shook his head. “Quite the opposite is true. Remember the situation has changed. A stock market analyst is quite useful as the rest of the galaxy has quite an active stock market. If this colony is to economically compete, you now need men like him.”

  “Oh yeah,” the woman said after a moments thought. “I didn’t think of that.”

  Jim turned to signal Mort. “After you have dealt with the second guard I’ll give Charles a call and see what he has to say.”

  “Yep,” Sam agreed, “you can give them ma government’s proposal.”

  Matt stood to stretch and dust himself off. “What’s Jim’s position in the government, President Sam?”

  “He’s the minister fer talkin’ ta people.”

  “He’s not a citizen?”

  “Jim can be classified as a foreign intermediary,” the voice said.

  “Yep, that’s it. He’s the secretary fer foreign intermenuary.”

  “What happens to me now?” the former guard asked.

  “Y’all want ta join us?”

  “Sure do.”
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  “Then take a seat with the rest so we can git on with the court.”

  The second man Jim knew as Rosco, was brought forward. After the standard statement from the cube, his questioning began.

  “What was your work before ya left Earth?”

  “I drove a fork lift,” Rosco answered.

  “Statement sincere with reservations. Subject appears to be concealing something.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Rosco shouted.

  “It means there is something you’re not telling us,” Jim said.

  “All right, all right. I used to drive a forklift until this Exodus thing came up. Then I did a little buying and selling.”

  “Again reservations.”

  “What?”

  “Reservations Rosco? You’re not telling us everything,” Jim explained.

  “I bought and sold things people needed. The rationing system didn’t give people enough, so I provided a service.”

  “Black marketer,” Matt explained, “also known as a leach. I once had to pay one two hundred bucks for five gallons of uncontaminated water.”

  “And where did ya git this hear stuff ya sold ta people.”

  “I bought it, what else?”

  “Direct lie,” the voice said.

  “I ain’t answering any more of your fucking questions if that thing’s going to be talking. Does this government’s constitution give fifth amendment rights?”

  “Ah...” Sam said, looking to Jim for an explanation.

  “You cannot be made to say anything that would incriminate you.”

  “Incrim... ah...”

  “You cannot be forced to admit to a crime. Does he have the right not to speak?”

  “Under your constitution he does,” the voice said.

  “Well, that don’t stop me from askin’ does it?”

  “No, it’s just that he does not have to answer,” the voice replied.

  Sam turned back to Rosco. “If’n we forgive ya fer everything that ya done back on Earth, would ya become a good person here. Do your fair share of the work.”

  “I would.”

  “Direct lie.”