Exiled to the Stars (52 page)

Chapter 21

Eighthmonth 14, Year 25 A.L.

There was satisfaction, though, in the sudden surge of growth and development after years of stagnation. The new supply of metals, for instance, had finally let them move from a currency based on ship scrip and beer to one based on metals.

The conversion had been swift and smooth, since the colony Administration had control of both the metal supply and the fiat 'money' of the ship. Once the currency had been designed and minted, the Council had established an official exchange rate, and begun issuing the new money in place of the old. Within a few weeks, nearly all the ship scrip had been exchanged for the new 'credits', and beer was once again simply a commodity, and not the basis for a currency.

A stable currency had been the basis for Ken's drive to convert the colony from a ship-style socialism to a form he considered more suitable for a growing colony. It was his most ambitious goal yet. He called it the "revolution," and that turned out to be an apt description.

With its increasing development, the colony now faced a chronic shortage of labor, despite the fact that in the 25 years since the landing, the population had grown to over 7,000.

Ken was convinced that at least part of the problem was the "communistic" organization required by shipboard life, which had simply continued unchanged in the colony. The Captain's "Residents's Council" had simply changed to the "Colony Council," and its Chairman had become the Colony Administrator.

Every colonist got the same allocation of food and other products, whether they were productive or not, whether doctor or farm worker. There was a permanent underclass always to be seen congregating in the colony's streets, unemployed and unemployable, unwilling to work because it wasn't necessary in order to live. Ken considered these highly visible loiterers a threat to the development of the colony.

Of course, EarthGov hadn't expected the ship's perfect example of authoritarian communism to survive the voyage; it was considered counterproductive in the labor-intensive environment of a colony. An important part of a Colony Program Captain's training had been in colonial governmental organization and managing the transition. But of course, Captain Angelo had not survived the crash, and his training had died with him.

Raised in the NorAm political traditions, Ken was certain that a version of a capitalist system should have been adopted in the colony, and coupled with the Council's concern with the never-ending labor shortages, the currency changeover gave him a chance to implement the change, though it was a difficult fight.

After a long battle, Ken convinced the Council to decree that while the colony's communal dining hall would continue to operate, it would begin
selling
its food. A graduated pay scale was established for each job in the colony, and people began earning wages. This led to a flurry of other regulations relating to such things as overtime and disability. The wage schedule, Ken explained, was intended to be a temporary thing; once the new currency became firmly established, he expected wages to find their own levels. But the fiat wage scale would, he said, establish a 'minimum wage', to make certain even the most unskilled worker would earn a 'living wage'.

It also led to a predictable amount of confusion and opposition. There were demonstrations, and hundreds of complaints, but eventually, most were settled more or less amicably. For those that could not be settled so easily, a Council court had been established.

The colony's Head Med Tech, Doctor Bono, was authorized to certify individual colonists as disabled, after which they would receive a basic allowance for living expenses. The same allowance was paid to those over 100 years old. On Earth, retirement age was 50; but this was Crashlanding, and Earth people had no symbiont extending their lives. Those not certified as disabled, and below 100 years of age would receive only wages they earned. If they were unwilling to work, Ken had wanted the colony to afford them the "freedom to starve", but he was forced to compromise and accept the existence of a "minimum subsistence allowance" payable even to those who refused to work.

With a stable, reliable currency had come the concept of 'private property'. The fact that the colony had kept careful comp records simplified the task of issuing land titles. Residents were issued titles to the domes and fields they occupied. Unoccupied domes, of course, remained colony property. Combined with the new currency, the titles were quickly recognized as having value, and soon a tentative trade in properties began and quickly developed into a brisk one.

The currency also led to a surge in entrepreneurship. Those with imagination and drive began finding and creating new products and services that would let them escape the standard wages imposed by the Council.

Kerry had started the trend, with her 'subscription' newsie. Lars and Jana were now 'consultants', and sold their services to the colony for negotiated fees, instead of a standard wage.

Roberto Gomez and his fishermen established what he called a 'co-op', wherein the fishermen combined their catches into a single fish market, at which both river and lake-caught fish were available. A similar 'co-op' was being established by a number of farmers dissatisfied with the 'official' Council price for their produce.

Vlad had pressed Ken until the colony established a 'patent office', at first just a file on the comp, that gave individuals the exclusive right to new and innovative products. The only requirement being that a product was actually new, and not something found on the comp. Susan immediately applied for over a dozen, and received them.

Yes, things were definitely changing, much to the dismay of the now-elderly Earthborns who had retarded progress for so long. They had forced an election to be conducted, confident that the colonists would reject Ken's 'imperial' proposals. The published ballots listed only the incumbents, though the colonists were free to vote for any adult colonist. Blogs, though, promoted and advocated the election of various other candidates for weeks ahead of the election.

The conservatives had been surprised and dismayed when the overwhelmingly Planetborn population affirmed Ken's program, and many of the loudest, most reactionary voices on the Council found themselves replaced by upstart Planetborns they hadn't even realized were running. Among other proposals on the ballot: That the Colony Administrator be elected by popular vote, instead of by Council election. Since he had been easily reelected to the Council, this would not yet affect Ken.
His
place on the ballot would come in four years, when the term approved by the election expired.

Ken was reviewing the latest reports of the Council court with Lee Jenson when he was surprised to see Susan Renko enter his office, accompanied by the ever-present Michiko Montoya. Ken welcomed them and ushered them to seats.

Susan took a deep breath and began, "Ken, I think I need to talk to you,
in private
." She glanced significantly at Lee.

Lee started to rise, only to be waved back to his seat by Ken. "It's all right, Susan. Please go on. What is it?"

Susan looked doubtful for a moment, and then shrugged. "I think we're facing the most serious threat since the plague. In fact, you could almost call it 'The Plague, Chapter Two'." Ken's eyebrows rose, and his surprise was complete when Susan continued, "Michiko, you tell him. You spotted it."

Since the mineral scouting expedition, Susan had taken Michiko as an apprentice, much to Frank Wong's dismay. Even in the short time since the expedition, it had become obvious that the two were kindred spirits, and by now they were practically inseparable. Vlad joked that Susan was the only colonist whose shadow had a name: Michiko. Ken enthusiastically approved of Susan's 'adoption' of Michiko, and hoped other Earthborns would take the hint and find Planetborn apprentices; the more the two groups mixed, the better it would be for the colony.

But since Michiko's arrival it was becoming more and more difficult to drag Susan away from her lab in the crèche. Vlad had taken to nagging her about becoming a 'lab hermit,' and Michiko was coming to represent Susan any time physical presence was required. Whatever it was they had to report, it must be important.

Michiko nodded. "Yes, Susan." But there was a flush of pride in her face as she continued, "Well, sire, I was checking traffic patterns at the med clinic when I noticed something. Over the last year, we've seen a marked upsurge in the number of Earthborns coming to the clinic for what turns out to be food poisoning.

"I've tracked it back almost a year, but the increase has been pretty gradual. It's only in the last few months that it has really become noticeable. Last month we had over twenty cases."

Ken was puzzled. "Food poisoning? How can that be? We grow and process our own food, and no colonist is crazy enough to try to eat the native stuff."

Susan nodded, and picked up the narrative. "We've spent the last two days comparing samples from our latest crops to my records from past years. Ken, the crop plants are mutating. They are changing to more and more resemble Crashlanding vegetation."

Ken was stunned. "But that means…"

Susan nodded. "It means that our crops are becoming poisonous to the Earthborns.

"And it's not just the plants," she continued. "The animals and even we humans are mutating too. Apparently it's an effect of the symbiont. It's changing us to live on Crashlanding."

"Are you sure?" Ken asked worriedly. "About the colonists, I mean?"

Susan nodded. "We compared tissue samples from every Planetborn, from the oldest to the newest infants. The changes are subtle, but when traced through the samples, they are detectable. In each generation, from Earthborn down, the mutation is stable. Once it is established, the process stops
for that individual
. But each new birth contributes to the ongoing changes.

"Plant generations, and even livestock generations, are much shorter than human ones, especially since the symbiont seems to be extending our life spans. So, the plants and animals are mutating much faster than we are. That means that unless we do something, the Earthborns will soon be unable to eat our crops or livestock.

Ken's frown was deep. "All right, Susan. You've had time to think about this. What can we do? Can we stop it?"

Susan shook her head. "No. I've studied that damned symbiont for 25 years now, and I still haven't found any way to control the thing. It's almost as if it were designed in a lab to be immutable."

There was sudden movement in the corner of Ken's eye as Michiko jerked upright with a surprised expression that turned suddenly thoughtful.

"All I've been able to come up with," Susan continued, not noticing Michiko's reaction, "is to go back to the original seed banks on the ship, and follow the same procedures we did twenty-five years ago. Expose the seedlings to Crashlanding atmosphere and plant
them
in place of our current seeds. If we're lucky, it should be like setting back the clock."

Ken shook his head. "Assuming we have enough of the original seed left. Okay," he continued, "Let's make sure I understand this. Before long, the Earthborns won't be able to eat our crop plants, and eventually, not even our livestock. So we have a deadline for finding a solution. It appears, though, that the Planetborns are unaffected, and will be able to continue to consume our present food sources. Now, there are about a thousand of us Earthborns left, so, cold-blooded as it sounds, eventually it will be a self-solving problem. As one of the thousand, though, I find myself unable to be that detached."

Michiko shook her head. "Not really. Before long, I suspect us older Planetborn will begin having the same problem. We can get
some
of our nutrition from the sun, and we can eat
some
of the native stuff, though most of it tastes terrible, but it could take several generations for us to be able to eat everything. We need a long-term solution."

Susan frowned. "I'm not so sure. With every birth, the conversion is more and more complete. The youngest ones seem to be able to get nearly a fourth of their energy from the sun, and with the native stuff you can already eat, the problem will at least diminish."

Ken waved a hand in dismissal. "That's for the future to worry about. Right now, we have to save the Earthborns." He straightened. "Our first job is to find out how serious the problem is. I'll have Lee or Vlad check with the computer, and find out how much original seed we have left. For most of our time here, we've been using seed grown with our crops, because they've already been infected with the symbiont. So, if we're lucky, we may have enough to re-seed at least a portion of our fields."

Susan looked distressed. "I would be concerned about cross-contamination if we tried to grow both varieties at once. I think we're going to have to burn off and plow under
all
our crops and start over anew. We know the Planetborns can eat the Earth-descended varieties."

"At least for now," Michiko put in. Suddenly, she brightened. "Hey! What about hydroponics? Maybe we can reactivate the ship's hydroponic systems, and raise old-breed crops and seeds that way."

Ken nodded. "That might be a possibility. I want both of you to drop anything else you're doing and jump on this. On second thought, you two have enough to do. I'll ask Tara Creding to take charge. I'll also find out if there's anyone that knows anything about hydroponics, and have the computer run an inventory of the remaining stocks of ship's food. If we
do
have to destroy our own crops, we may be able to survive on those for a while, until we can get a new crop in."

"You know," Susan said in a thoughtful tone. "We may have to destroy all the livestock, too. It could be like stepping back almost 25 years in time."

Ken shook his head. "Don't get too pessimistic too soon. Let's take this one step at a time, and the first step is to verify your observations, and try to develop ideas for dealing with the problem." He straightened. "Oh, and of course, I'd rather not see this in the newsie, so please treat it as confidential, for the moment. When we brief the Council and the Colonists, I'd like to be able to outline a plan of action at the same time. Panic won't help anything."