Child of Earth

by David Gerrold

  “No. I’m going to the showers!” Tildie said.

  “You walk out of here before your work is done and you’ll forfeit your points, Tildie. And you can’t afford to lose any more.”

  “I don’t care,” Tildie said. And walked out. Jaxin shrugged and pulled his phone from his pocket.

  About fifteen minutes later, two of Tildie’s moms came screaming out to the stables. They were so angry, they were talking in their native French—which Jaxin pretended he didn’t understand. I knew he did, but there was a rule: if you didn’t talk in Linnean, nobody had to listen or reply. But that didn’t stop them from talking. The only word I understood was merde.

  Jaxin was still up on the ladder, brushing Thunder’s mane. Great-horses tend to be shaggy anyway, but during winter months, their coats get thick and matted and they need to be brushed almost every day. It wasn’t until one of Tildie’s moms began shaking his ladder that he looked down and said, “Speak in Linnean or I’ll put you on report!”

  “To hell with Linnean! And to hell with you!” she said in perfect English. Apparently, she believed English was only good for swearing. Or maybe she thought Jaxin didn’t speak French. “You’re fired!” she said. “Do you hear me? You go pack your things! You’re out of a job, you cretinous little weasel!”

  She and the other one flapped off, like a couple of goblin-birds, shrieking all the way. They headed off in the general direction of the Administration offices. Jaxin just shook his head. “All right, everyone. Back to work. Thunder stamps her feet because she wants us to finish today.”

  Neither Tildie nor anybody from his family was at dinner that night. There were empty places all over the room. Gamma said that some of the families were having a meeting. The way she said it, it sounded very important. After dinner, mosty the kids went off to the theater to look at the latest news from Linnea, but tonight the regular evening Meeting promised to be more interesting, so I went there instead.

  Tildie’s moms were all there, looking like a row of gargoyles. They had their arms folded and their jaws stuck out and their eyes were blazing. Rinky whispered to me, “Medusa and her sisters are here,” and we both giggled, which got us a dirty look from Mom-Lu.

  Chief Administor Moffin came in to lead the Meeting. He didn’t always do that, only when the subject was important. It was pretty obvious that whatever else had been planned, tonight’s Meeting was going to be about horse manure.

  Administor Moffin spoke in fluent Linnean, and several times he had to be reminded to speak slower so the rest of us could understand him. He said, “Some of you may have heard about the disobedience at the stables today. The Cretonne family has registered a protest with my office and I’ve asked the Scout Training Board to review the circumstances.” I glanced over at Tildie’s moms. They looked smug, as if they were about to be awarded some kind of a prize.

  “The Board has reviewed the video and found that Scout Cadet Jaxin’s actions were ... entirely appropriate for the circumstance.” This provoked yelps of surprise and outrage all over the room. Moffin rang his bell for silence. He had to ring it several times before the room quieted down. It was a big heavy thing and it had a very sharp clang.

  He glanced around sternly. “First, let me remind you that we will speak only in Linnean here. Second, we will follow the customs of your intended Linnean subculture. Acting as a Linnean horse trainer, Cadet Jaxin responded entirely in character to the insubordination and defiance of trainee Tilden Cretonne. The Scout Board has put a commendation into his record.”

  “A commendation?” Marie Cretonne came shrieking to her feet. “For abusing my child?!”

  “He did what any Linnean horse trainer would have done. He had not only the right, but the responsibility as well to punish the child according to Linnean law.”

  “But this isn’t Linnea!” She spoke in English. “This is Earth, and Earth laws apply, and I demand an Earth court.”

  “Speak in Linnean,” he reminded her.

  She looked flustered, then rephrased her comments. “We have not yet crossed over to Linnea. We still live on Earth. Therefore Earth laws apply.”

  Administor Moffin shook his head. “No. Please reread your contract. Perhaps you’ve forgotten that you agreed to abide by Linnean standards when you moved into this dome. Regardless of any other consideration, Linnean custom, law and tradition reign as the sole authority in here. Legally, you are already on Linnean soil. Now, sit down.” Something about the way he said it—they sat.

  Moffin looked back to his notes. “Additionally, the Scout Board recommends a loss of fifty work points for Tilden Cretonne as penalty for his refusal to accept the authority of Cadet Jaxin.” More outraged yelps from the gargoyles, quickly stifled. “—And the loss of another hundred work points levied against Janine and Marie Cretonne for refusing to speak Linnean when ordered to by Cadet Jaxin.” He peered over his glasses at the Cretonnes. “For the moment, I have ignored the outbursts of English in this room. I do not have to. If I hear any more English or French words, I will levy additional penalties.” Marie Cretonne opened her mouth, thought better, and sat down again.

  Administor Moffin saw that and nodded, then he glared around the room at everybody else. “Understand this,” he said. “No matter what happens in this dome, no matter who does what to whom, you will respond as Linneans! You will think and act like Linneans at all times. Your lives depend on it. The lives of the people around you depend on it. The lives of countless people you have never met will depend on your ability to represent yourselves as native Linneans. If you cannot make and keep this commitment, my office will be open all night tonight and all day tomorrow for the acceptance of resignations. Any family choosing to resign may do so. We will levy appropriate financial penalties, of course. I will now adjourn this meeting.” He rang his bell one more time and walked out of the room.

  Tildie’s parents were the first ones out the door after him. And several other families followed without saying a word. I looked over at our moms and they were shaking their heads sadly. Some of the other parents whispered together. Some just sat sternly by themselves.

  The next day, Tildie’s family was gone, and so were two other families, including Jik and Jin and their parents.

  We talked about it at home for a long time too. The fact that we understood all the whats and the whys didn’t reassure us. While it sort of meant that we were finally learning to think like Linneans a little bit, it also meant that we were leaving behind our Earth feelings too. And Big Jes, who usually made all of us laugh, was the saddest of all because up until now, he hadn’t given much thought to how much we were leaving behind. So things were plenty grim for the next week or two while folks sorted out how they felt about that.

  And meanwhile, three more families bailed out. They said, “They have too much money invested in us. They can’t afford to have too many families quit. They need us. They’ll call us back.” That’s what they believed anyway. We knew we wouldn’t be seeing them again. Not here, and certainly not on Linnea. You either agreed to the agreements or you didn’t.

  A CHOICE

  I DIDN’T MISS TILDIE ALL THAT MUCH, but Jik and Jin were fun, and I was sorry to see them go. I asked Mom-Woo if we were going to quit too. She said no. Morra and Irm and Bhetto wouldn’t let us. And that made Mom-Lu and Mom-Trey laugh.

  Mom-Woo explained, “When we move over to Linnea, they get all the money and property we leave behind. They can hardly wait to see us go. But they have to go through the training with us; that’s part of the contract.”

  “In case they change their minds and decide to come with?”

  “That’s not likely, but yes, in case they change their minds.”

  “I’m still going to miss Jik and Jin.”

  “I’ll miss them too, sweetheart. But they might not be out of the program yet. They might transfer to another dome and start training for one of the barren worlds. Or they might come back here. They have a threemonth cooling off period to recomm
it to their agreements. The Authority doesn’t lock people out; they either choose to be here or not.”

  “Does that mean Tildie and the gargoyles might come back too?”

  “I don’t think so. They were having a lot of other problems fitting in. Tildie’s little adventure was a convenient excuse for them to quit and be righteous about it. But it wasn’t any secret among the parents that the Administration was thinking of dropping them from the program. That’s why they accused Jaxin of hurting Tildie. So they could quit and not be penalized. They forgot that the Administration has cameras everywhere. That’s why we don’t speak English even here in our private quarters. We have to think like Linneans, just like Administor Moffin said. And that means we have to live like Linneans everywhere.” Mom-Woo pulled the covers up to my chin. “Now get some sleep and tomorrow we’ll talk about sewing you a new kilt.”

  But just because we said it, that didn’t mean we could do it as easily. After Tildie’s family and the others left, things felt different—like maybe the Gate Authority wasn’t as much on our side as we’d thought. And I got the feeling that some of the parents resented the scouts now. Nobody said anything, but I saw people exchanging looks or lowering their eyes or just not raising their hands in Meeting anymore.

  It bothered me, because Tildie’s family had made its own choice. In fact, Administor Moffin made a big speech, saying the same things Mom-Woo had said, about how all of us would select ourselves in or out by our commitment. Nobody did it to us, we did it ourselves, so we had no one to blame for our mistakes. We had all agreed to the Covenant with the Mother Linnea when we entered the dome, so we had no right to complain when they asked us to keep our agreement. It made sense when Administor Moffin explained it that way, but it still annoyed a lot of folks, because so many of the agreements seemed so silly. But they only seemed silly if you looked at them with an Earth-mind. If you looked at them with a Linnean-mind, they didn’t seem silly at all.

  And Jaxin told us kids the same thing. We’d see the importance of our lessons once we got over to the other side—if we got over at all. The incident with Tildie’s family had caused the Training Board to reevaluate large parts of the program. Originally the idea was to train us as rigorously as the scouts, but if families couldn’t handle the training, then perhaps it was a mistake to send families over. But they didn’t dare reduce the level of the training either.

  Finally, about two weeks later, the Training Board held a special meeting about it. Administor Moffin presided. He didn’t look any friendlier than before. I’d heard he had a lot on his mind. Some kind of incident had occurred on the other side, but nobody would tell us what had happened. Anyway, he rang his bell and started talking almost immediately.

  “We cannot reduce the level of your training. We cannot. We will not risk your lives, nor will we risk the lives of any of our scouts. The Gate Authority has a contingency plan and they’ve authorized me to present it to you. You have a choice. Any family here can abandon participation in this program, without penalty, and we will transfer you to a different program, a different gate going to one of the uninhabited worlds—or you can recommit to a higher standard.”

  “What do you mean by a higher standard?” That was Da-Lorrin.

  “For one thing, we may have to lengthen your time in training. For another, we may not let as many of you pass through Callo City on Linnea as we had planned. Some of you will have to head directly west instead. We intend to reevaluate everything for its appropriateness to the long-range plan. And no—” he added, “this has nothing to do with the Cretonne family. Some of you may have heard that they’ve filed a lawsuit. We expect the court will dismiss the suit, as it has done with similar suits in the past. In the meantime, we have to protect all of our people on Linnea, and all of you who want to cross over. So spend some time among yourselves, talking it over. Talk to our scouts, ask them what they think. We’ll talk again next week.”

  Walking up the slope back to our cabins, Gampa said, “A cold splash of water really wakes you up, doesn’t it?” Rinky and I started a fire and Gamma put up water for tea. The family settled around the big table and Mom-Lu started slicing bread and put out a plate of fresh-churned boffili butter. We hadn’t earned enough points for jelly yet.

  Morra and Bhetto and Irm sat quietly at their end of the table, not speaking, but looking very grim. So finally, Mom-Lu said, “For God’s sake, Irm, spit it out before it poisons you.”

  “We can’t quit,” said Irm.

  “Of course not,” said Parra. “You’ve already made plans for our money.”

  “No. Uh—no—” said Irm, struggling hard to find the right words in Linnean. “We can’t quit because...because—oh, shit.” Irm couldn’t find the right words and shifted to English. It sounded strange to hear English words again. “We can’t quit because this is the best thing this family has ever done. Look at the children, they’re happier than I’ve ever seen them. For God’s sake, they have roses in their cheeks like real kids should! And look at yourselves, you all smile and laugh and joke like you’re having the time of your lives! Yes, it’s hard work—but so what? It’s the kind of work that makes us happy to get up in the morning and get started. I don’t want to quit because I’m having too much fun—a lot more fun than I ever had on Earth. And so are the rest of you!”

  For a moment, everybody just stared at Irm. Even Morra and Bhetto looked shocked. And then Mom-Lu wiped her eyes with her hankie and Mom-Woo started laughing quietly. And Da-Lorrin walked over to Irm and offered his hand. And then everybody was hugging and crying all at the same time.

  After a bit, Irm said, “When we got here, during those first few weeks at the beginning, I saw what you were all going through, the way you looked at Morra and Bhetto and me. How you all kept grimly pushing on, just so you wouldn’t have to listen to us say, ‘I told you so.’ I’ll tell you, that hurt. We felt like outsiders. We felt like ... like you didn’t believe our commitment to the success of this family. So we pushed ourselves harder than any of you. I don’t think you noticed, but we didn’t want you going over with any thoughts that Morra and Bhetto and I didn’t fully support you, because we do. We’ve talked about this a lot, looking for ways to make up for our bad beginning. But I guess that was just something we had to do so we could get here.” Auncle Irm said, “I know I won’t fit in over there. Just look at me. That’s why I was afraid of this. I didn’t want to be abandoned. I didn’t want to lose you. Because I love you all. I guess I need to say that more. But in the last two weeks, well ... it feels like all the joy around here has died. And we’ve all had our noses rubbed in it, what it looks like when a dream is abandoned. And I don’t like it any more than any of you do. I don’t like seeing my family this way. I love you too much. We’re not quitters. We’re not failures. No thanks. As far as we’re concerned—Morra and Bhetto and I—tomorrow, we all go back down the hill and sign this family up for whatever training it takes. This family doesn’t quit.”

  And then there was a whole bunch more hugging and laughing. Gampa clapped Irm on the back and Rinky ran over to smother all of them with kisses, and Cindy and Parra apologized for everything they had thought. And for a while, it felt like the old times again. We knew it wouldn’t last—the job had suddenly gotten a lot harder—but somehow in that moment, we all knew that we would handle whatever came our way.

  MOUNTAIN

  AFTER ADMINISTOR MOFFIN had made his speech, almost all the families came back and renewed their commitment, signing new contracts to continue the program, no matter how hard it got. A little while after that, Moffin transferred out and they promoted Jaxin’s ma to take his place. Administor Rance seemed a lot quieter and a lot more thoughtful than Moffin, but nobody doubted her commitment. She had lived on Linnea almost since the day the gate first opened. She knew almost everything about Linnea. Shortly after she took over, Jaxin and several of the other scouts went back to Linnea, and some new scouts came in to replace them.

  And after th
at, things got a lot stricter. But also a lot more fun. Both at the same time.

  We took our language tests, which were both written and spoken and lasted two days. And even though some of the family stumbled over a lot of unfamiliar words, we still did well enough as a group to graduate to second grade. We were all pretty happy about that. And besides, it qualified us to start building our own house, just like we would do someday on Linnea.

  But first we had to build a great-wagon, which was kind of like a covered wagon, only built to the same scale as a great-horse, so it was more like building a two-story house on wheels—big wheels, almost as high as the horse’s rump. You could walk underneath the bottom of it without having to stoop down.

  The wagon had ladders and stairs and compartments all over it. It was a lot more complicated than it looked. And inside, it was like a bus or a truck, both upstairs and downstairs. But it had to be big enough and sturdy enough to carry the belongings of a large family. And it also had to be strong enough to serve as a traveling fortress too. Most families our size built two or even three great-wagons for their cross-country trek, but for the purposes of the dome, we only needed to build the one. Just to show we could do it. On Linnea, though, we knew we’d have to build three.

  When we were done, Aunt Morra had all the kids paint pink Linnean daisies on the sides of the wagon, and after that we all called it the daisy-wagon. Later, we found out that we’d actually reinvented a common Linnean tradition, so we all felt pretty good about that. We got twenty-five bonus points for that too.

  Finally the day came that we loaded the wagon with all the supplies we’d earned, and we drove it out to our “farm”—the ten acres of prairie assigned to us. That was one of the best days of all. We didn’t have a horse of our own—no one in the dome really did; all the horses had to be shared—but when we moved we were given a horse to use for the day, and we had to take care of it as if it were our own.