He beamed his widest smile at them. “My friends, right now you’re the most important people on this planet.” Their faces lit up. “You’re all that stands between order and chaos. Today will be the first day you will serve humanity, but not the last. In a few hours, all of our people will gather here. Although you are too young to remember this, brave warriors like you always protected Earth. You’re here to ensure that peace prevails. Watch for my signal and remember! At the first sign of trouble, I expect you to restore order. Use any means necessary. Is that clear?”
“But, sir, there’s never been any trouble,” someone said.
His eyebrows met as he stared down the short, squinting teenager that had dared interrupt him. The boy cringed behind his smirking classmates. Croix made a mental note to teach the teen a proper lesson afterwards, then wore his sad face. He touched the boy’s shoulder and squeezed, hard, ignoring his painful grimace.
“Sadly, son, that doesn’t mean a lot. We’re now a proud people of thousands. Everyone’ll be here today. Do you know what happens when a crowd that large wants to cause trouble? Do you want to risk it?”
“No, sir,” the boy mumbled, lowering his eyes to the ground. The others snickered at his discomfort.
He let go of his shoulder and rubbed his hands together. “Good. Now, here’s your instructions one last time: surround the square, but don’t move until I give you the signal. Are we clear?”
“Yes, sir!” they shouted together.
“What?” he grimaced, pointing an ear in their direction.
“YES, SIR!” they shouted loudly enough to be heard over the entire village.
He threw them a satisfied grin before climbing the stairs up to the platform, where he would meet the others in a couple of hours. He whistled a sprightly melody, remembering an old saying. People are hard to govern when they are clever, they say. Luckily, I don’t need to worry with this lot. If only the rest of them were as accommodating…
Lucas
Lucas steepled his fingers, pressing his index fingers against his smiling lips. He had dedicated his life on Pearseus to helping the survivors and today they rewarded him with his own statue. Although not a day went by when he did not wish that more engineers had survived the inexplicable accident, the plethora of artists among the survivors meant that beautiful artefacts could be seen everywhere. A large statue of Captain Kibwe, lovingly carved in dark, polished wood loomed over the spacious timber building that served as city hall, assembly and courthouse, celebrating their late captain. Kibwe had been mourned by everyone, and they had embraced the idea of a statue in his honour. A second, smaller statue was now about to be unveiled by Croix, the new captain.
Still, Lucas could also sense the tension in the crowd. Since Kibwe’s death, the political situation had deteriorated rapidly. The community had fractured, perhaps irrevocably. He had accepted the statue in hope that the ceremony would help relieve the strain in their society.
At first, Kibwe had made all decisions – in effect, playing the role of a benevolent dictator. Crude as it was, it had been a successful model for the first year, with Kibwe proving a capable leader. Despite his success, in the second year he had insisted they follow the common three-fold distinction of power. Kibwe was voted to head the executive branch; former High Court Justice Jennifer Barrett the judicial; and Richard Walker led the city council. The latter body’s responsibilities included law-making, and everyone in their small community had the right to participate, although people often found it hard to do so while also hunting, working the fields and growing their food.
They had followed this model until Kibwe’s death. Croix had assumed leadership of the executive branch, based on seniority. Many had demanded elections; Croix’s continued refusal to do so created bitter resentment among many survivors. The city council’s monthly requests for a vote had so far been ignored by Croix and friction between his supporters and Richard’s grew day by day. Lucas tried to see both sides of the arguments, as did Barrett, but it was getting increasingly hard to do so.
He leaned forward to look on at the gathering crowd with soft eyes. In a sense, they were all his children, just as much as the twins. He had taken apart pod after pod in order to ensure their survival and had taught people how to build houses and power them with wind generators and solar panels. They had been able to salvage much from the Pearseus’ debris littering the planet. Even more would surely be found in the next years, as humanity expanded. Unlike meteors that consist of mud and ice and tend to dissolve during their descent through atmosphere, most debris had arrived in pretty good condition. Container crates were designed to withstand space and time. Their most precious find had been a crate filled with e-libs, the descendent of twenty-first century electronic books. Deceptively fragile-looking but in reality almost indestructible, they were ubiquitous back on Earth, capable of storing vast amounts of data, including books, videos and music. Even pried away from the network, their combined memory included almost all knowledge of the human race, fitted within the thin glass frames of these popular and precious items.
The man next to him rose to his feet, interrupting Lucas’ reverie. Farmer Joe, as everyone knew him, had been a simple farmer back in India, before growing his farm into a multi-billion empire. People often murmured that the empty space next to Lucas’ statue would be soon filled with one of Joe. He raised his hands to quiet down the expectant crowd.
“The man standing next to me needs no introduction,” he started, as the last of the voices died away. “Our friend, Lucas. When we first arrived, this man helped me select seeds and grow them. We were lucky enough to land in the fertile valley we now call the Capital. Many of you will remember the herds that roamed here, and how Lucas and I selected those animals that could be domesticated. You already know how we’ve produced drinkable milk. Today, I have a surprise for you: we’ve also managed to create yoghurt, cheese and cream, and Lucas here feels confident that we’ll soon produce enough of them for all of us. And it’s all thanks to this man.”
He waited for the enthusiastic crowd to pipe down before heading back to his seat. Lucas closed his eyes, his mouth watering at the image of a half-melted fudge sundae.
Another man now jumped to the podium, a tall, lean blond with ice blue eyes. Richard Walker had made his vast fortune in California, through renewable energy projects. When it came to energy, he proved to be almost as good an engineer as Lucas himself.
“Hello all,” he started. The crowd cheered. “It’s with this man’s help” – Lucas looked down, embarrassed, as Richard pointed at him – “that we’ve managed to produce the wind turbines that give us the power we need.”
These could be seen on a small number of buildings around the Capital – as the survivors had started half-jokingly calling their village – and covered most of the survivors’ energy needs. They also carried water into the houses, a much-needed amenity and the first to be added to the city.
“I am now happy to announce my next project: a facility to convert waste to energy. This will cover our energy needs for years.” Richard leaned forward. “It’s not been an easy journey, but it’s sure been fulfilling. And we’ve done it without help from anyone. You, and you alone, have been responsible for all this, and for this I applaud you.”
He clapped his hands and everyone mimicked him. Lucas’ mind wandered to the natives. Where have they all gone? The survivors caught occasional glimpses of them, but few natives ever ventured close to the village and none of them spoke their language. Perhaps he had misheard that night, after all. Anyway, hastily abandoned settlements indicated that they had all left. Richard was right: the survivors had made it on their own.
“But we might not have made it,” Richard continued, “were it not for this man. So, I’m pleased to give you the man of the hour, my good friend, Lucas Rivera!”
Lucas looked up in surprise. In a world where everybody was somebody, the survivors had taken to referring to each another using a single name. First or l
ast made little difference, but most considered it pretentious to use both, so everyone knew him as Lucas. He grinned an uncomfortable smile at the formality and took the few steps to the podium, examining the faces around him. Despite their political differences, most seemed jubilant. That had not always been the case. Many had perished in the first year in fatal or near fatal accidents, as people who had never lived in the wild had to re-learn basic survival skills. The second year saw a spate of suicides, as people realised they were never going home. Since then, however, their numbers had been growing fast, and they had managed to rebuild their lives on Pearseus. He had great faith in children, too; children who had known no other home than the planet and were eager to explore it. This faith extended even to the Armbands, or Croix’s scouts, as the rest called them, much as some sniggered at their training’s focus on uniformity and obedience.
His heart raced as he stepped up to the podium. He hated speaking in public, and had to fight a wave of nausea. “When we first came here,” he rasped, then cleared his throat. “When we first came here, I thought of you all as my charges. I was responsible for you. Had to look after you. As time passed, you became more than that. We became partners. You helped me and we looked after each other. Today’s honour is more than I deserve. In truth, every single one of you has earned it just as much.”
The crowd looked at him with sparkling eyes, yet Lucas knew his next words would remind them of the tension boiling just under the surface. He fidgeted with the e-lib in his hands.
“We’ve come a long way together. While Joe and Richard took care of food and power, we arranged a successful administration.”
People tensed and a dark mood descended onto the crowd. He hastened to continue.
“Naturally, we have our differences. But we can rise above them, like we did in the past. If we can overcome our religious problems, we can overcome anything!”
He raised one finger, realised this made him look like a teacher and placed his hand back on the podium. “We’re all equal before God and for the first time in human history, we acted like it. You have no idea how much it means to me to see people of all colours, religions and races working together to ensure everyone’s survival. And it gives me great pleasure to announce that the Asian Temple will soon be finished.”
A warm applause greeted his words. Feeding the survivors had proven as simple as a nun’s prayer, compared to accommodating everyone’s faiths. Pearseus’ passengers had consisted of men and women from all around the world: Christians, Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, Taoists, Confucians, Hindus… Hardship rekindled buried religious feeling, and less than a month after landing they had converted one of the pods to a place of worship. When they had to take apart the pods for much needed metals and equipment, everyone agreed to leave that particular pod intact. Nowadays, it stood in the middle of a beautiful, serene garden atop the small hill overlooking the plaza, serving as a fragrant, flower-covered place of worship for everyone.
“You may remember how we first came to build our joined temples. Our limited resources brought our religions closer. Religions that had been fighting for centuries back on Earth. Heck, I’m sure even our temples would’ve sparked a minor holy war or two back in the day.”
People laughed and his shoulders relaxed a bit. Try as he might, the engineer in him could not resist some technical specifications.
“Our temples have three rooms. One with an altar and a Crucifix, another with a bimah and an arc, and a third with a qiblah wall and a Quran. Our ancestors fought amongst themselves, but our temples have a musallah in the middle and an ablution fountain outside, with shelves where shoes can be stored on the walls.”
Richard’s discreet cough behind him stopped him from going into further details and he looked at the beaming faces around him. He waved a hand in the direction of the hill.
“And what about our Asian friends? Remember how they constantly built small shrines around the Capital – significantly adding to the city’s charm, if I may say so.” Some jeered, others laughed. “And now, our Hindu, Taoist and Buddhist friends have built the Asian Temple.”
People had started referring to the hill as the Asian Temple; a strangely popular name, despite the fact that it annoyed or offended almost everyone involved. It consisted of several new temples built in the garden surrounding the original pod. Towards the hill’s foot, the Eternal Flame Falls, as they called them, offered a spectacular sight. It consisted of a beautiful waterfall sitting on a pocket of natural methane gas, which seeped out through a fracture in the rocks behind it. The gas fed an unending fire, and the vision of the bright flame shining through the falling water was as haunting and beautiful today as it had been when the first survivor happened across this enchanted place.
When the enthusiastic applause abated, Lucas continued. “Like I said, we have our differences. What family doesn’t? But I know we can make it work out in the end, if we build on this great tradition we’ve started together.” He waved towards the cloth-covered statue. “Thank you all for this honour. I promise to spend whatever time I have left serving you as best as I can.”
He took a small bow and headed back to his chair as Croix stepped up. His speech had mended fences. Now, if Croix followed his lead and did the same, things might get back to normal at last.
Croix
Croix stepped in front of the podium. He pressed his lips together to grin at the crowd. His head hurt again, but he had spent many hours discussing the matter with his advisor and knew what needed to be done. He had grown to love public speeches, and by now considered himself pretty good at them. He drank with eagerness the cool, fresh air blowing from the mountains, hoping it would clear his head, and waved his hands upwards, waiting for the crowd to stop its excited murmur.
“My friends,” he started, “we ended up in this harsh world under the most terrible of circumstances. The accident that led us here, though, proved to be the beginning of something great: the first human colony.”
Jubilant shouts were heard from the crowd, along with some whistles. He waited for them to die out.
“Our brave Captain Kibwe – rest his soul – did everything in his power to keep us safe and sound. He was so successful that our small group is getting stronger every day!”
More applause. How I love their applause!
“In this, he was not alone. We were all there for each other, helped each other out, saved each other’s lives more than once. And much as I would’ve liked to build a statue to each and every one of you…” – he waited for the laughter to subside – “…we’ve come here today to honour the work of one man. My good buddy Lucas. Thank you, my friend.”
An involuntary twitch cracked the edges of his mouth as the crowd cheered much louder for Lucas than they had for him. I have gone too far to share power with a nerdy engineer. He beamed his wide smile.
“Concluding our little ceremony, I want to take the opportunity to announce a few small changes to the way we run things…”
From the corner of his eye he noticed with amusement Richard and Barrett raise their heads as if stung. He made a discreet signal with his hand and his Armbands took their places around the plaza, unnoticed by the crowd. An expectant hush fell.
He steepled his hands and leaned forward, placing his head on his fingers. “The first item in the agenda concerns our e-libs.” He thought it strange that his advisor had insisted so much on this. He seemed to hate those things with a passion that surprised Croix.
“We had a precious few when we arrived, and we need every last one of them. I know they’re almost indestructible, but Mr. Stinson's grandson managed last week to break one.” At the mention of his name, an old man in the crowd lowered his eyes to the ground and shifted his weight uncomfortably. His two-year-old grandson had pounded mercilessly on the glass with a rock until it had shattered into countless sparkling fragments. In a small community like theirs, it had not taken long for the news to reach everyone.
“Therefore, all of you will need t
o give us your e-libs for safe keeping.”
A murmur of disapproval met his words, as he had expected. He made a reassuring motion with his hand.
“We’ll set up a public library so that everyone can read all they want. Don’t worry, they’ll be in safe hands. Using the new presses we’re building, we’ll publish their contents so that everyone has safe access to our heritage.” He was lying, of course – his advisor had been adamant that no-one should have access to knowledge – but he could see no reason for them to know that.
“Also, everyone can see that the citizens’ council has proven a poor way of dealing with everyday affairs. People need to be in their fields working and in the forests hunting, not in the city hall squabbling. It was one thing when there were just a few of us, but each year it becomes harder to pass laws. How many of you have complained about having to vote for every small ordinance?” He looked at them; some nodded in agreement. He cleared his throat, tapping his fingers on his e-lib.
“Therefore, I propose a new way of doing things. A way that’ll speed things up. For convenience. I suggest we return to the old way of doing things, like back on Pearseus, when the captain and crew made sure you could enjoy the journey without worrying about anything. Wasn’t it better when you simply had a good time and let us take care of things? Won’t that be more efficient, instead of repeating the housing fiasco?”
The houses that the survivors had built at first were nothing but wooden huts with furs inside, to keep the cold out. In their tenth year they had been confident enough to hear Lucas’ proposal for a major redesign. He had suggested they build hives, with hexagonal cells serving as individual housing units. In a fractal-like design, the hives themselves formed larger units, called pods because each would have a square with parts of the original escape pods at its centre. Each pod would include the infrastructure needed to cover the survivors’ food, medicinal, religious and educational needs, with their fields located on the outside. To travel from one unit to the next, one might need a horse or carriage, especially when the weather was poor, but otherwise everything could be found within walking distance.
Pearseus Bundle: The Complete Pearseus Sci-fi/Fantasy Series Page 112
