Revenge, death, and changes…
The ruling that Port newbies became crew members when they signed contracts had an impact faster than anyone expected. “We’re going to need more hats and capes for Henry’s crews if Doc is right, and I’m pretty sure she is,” Spacer said. “He is not going to be happy about this, but seeing people die from that black stuff is tough.”
As if on cue, Henry’s voice was heard from outside the Bridge. “Spacer, we need to talk.” He sounded different than he had the night before. Spacer walked out and found him being held up by two of his crew. His face was bruised and swollen.
“You and your grand ideas got me beat up last night. Most of my crew have walked off. How am I supposed to harvest the roots that are ripe?”
One of the men holding Henry spoke up. “Spacer, we’ll work if we can wear hats and capes. I think all the crew will if we get treated better. They all want to eat, and we need those roots if we are going to eat.”
“Put Henry here on the porch and somebody go get Doc.” Henry was hurting. The men in his crew had paid him back for the whip he used on them for discipline. No one with compulsion was willing to work for him. One of the side effects of compulsion was sensing what the other person was experiencing—so being cruel was not something most compulsives wanted to do.
Spacer saw an easy way to settle this problem “I don’t see any reason those who work to harvest the roots can’t have a share of what they harvest. Tell the crew they keep one of each ten roots they harvest. Sound about right?”
The men holding Henry grinned. “Good idea! That first swamp is almost past ripe, so we’ll get a crew going. The QM has some hats and capes we can use.” After dumping their former overseer on the porch, the two men began yelling out that whoever wanted to help harvest would get to keep some of the roots. The response was quick, and the men realized they had better get this organized before everybody in the settlement ended up stomping the plants, spoiling more than they harvested. Spacer let them take charge; it was one less mess he had to deal with. Now, what to do with Henry?
The medical officer arrived at a run. Gupta examined the now-unconscious crew chief. “Spacer, there’s not much I can do. Something is bleeding inside. I’ll ask Rita to scan him, but we may be too late. The crew were pretty brutal, but he was pretty brutal with them. It’s a wonder this didn’t happen sooner. I warned him.”
As they were talking, Rita strode into the main plaza and walked quickly to them. Gupta had mentally called her to come. She placed her hands on the chest of the battered man. Moving her hands gently across his body, she shook her head.
“Without a sterile room, there is nothing we can do. His ribs are broken and there are cuts of some blood vessels. If he wakes up, which I doubt he will, we should drug him so he doesn’t suffer.”
Rita sighed. “In Amaurot, we have finally been able to do some surgery like on Terra, but it is difficult. We know what to do, we just don’t have the supplies we need.” Rita had learned so much from the books they had in Refugio, but the technology was beyond what they could do. It was almost better to have not known how many could be saved.
***
Mandy and Sarita spent most of the morning helping with the re-thatching of shelters. Sarita mainly helped to keep the children busy picking us scraps. Thatching wasn’t a skill they taught in Utopia. In the evening, they worked with Rita to help Sarita learn to use and control her newly found psy skills.
“I never realized how tired you get doing this,” Sarita leaned back on the wall as she sat on her bed. “Mandy, does it get easier?”
“Some, but that is why you don’t see many mind users with fat bellies like poor old Henry. He was almost a total quiet mind. He could sense when the taro was grown enough to harvest, but that was about it.”
Rita laughed. “Anyone with an observant eye could do that!”
“Well, yes but he played it up — because being a quiet mind here in Port means you get shorter rations when it really gets bad.”
“You limit food?” Rita was appalled. She thought of the recommendation on losing weight sent out by the healers in Utopia, of the amount of food stored and spoiling because of good harvests. “Trade must begin with Utopia too. This is terrible.”
“Most of the crew are welcoming trade with Refugio but really want trade with ‘Topia because of the food. Some folks really need to move if the other places will take them.”
“There is more room in Refugio and Utopia,” Sarita said softly, remember how hurt Mandy was when she mentioned leaving. “Did you know there is another continent we have not even fully explored?”
“I thought it was just a nighty-nighty story,” Mandy gasped. “There really is more space on the planet?”
“Yes, there is another land mass almost directly opposite Utopia, but it has a lot more volcanoes, or it did when the planet was surveyed.” Rita said. “The leaders in Utopia keep quiet about it because they want it for expansion. I am not sure if Refugio knows about it.”
“I wonder if Spacer and the others know about it?” Mandy sighed. “Well, that nighty-nighty story is off to bed for me. More thatching in the morning, unfortunately.”
***
Mandy hesitated to tell Spacer about the empty land. She decided to wait. Spacer had a lot to do with the trade treaty and the changes Portia’s announcement had made.
They held a burial for Henry in the early morning. Not many people showed up for the ceremony. His wife had thrown him out years ago but came with her adult children. They had little to say about him and declined to ride the boat out to the deep where his body would be dumped. There was not enough land to dirt bury him, or wood for burning a body. The sea was the only resting place for the residents of Port.
Following the burial, Spacer asked if Mandy and Sarita would help Boats set up for the meeting that evening. The fact that he asked rather than ordered was not lost on the women. The fresh taro roots had helped the food supply, so refreshments were possible, but Spacer made it clear, no alcohol. He was worried about some of the ship’s captains would object to the trade agreement and most of them were back.
People began to gather as the sun set. The lights in the meeting shed flickered and went out, then flashed back on.
“We had some damage on the battery and may have to go easy on the lights until we get it fixed. The water plant is working right now, and we’ll have drinking water soon, but we are short on filters.” Boats announced to the anxious crowd. Sarita knew water was rationed but did not realize the electricity was, too. She had seen the solar panels that covered the roof of the main house and was told the docking building had some also. What they didn’t use had to be stored and the battery was old.
Spacer called Elder Garza to the platform to give the results of the vote. There had been contacts with the two most distant islands and counts of the numbers made it clear, their participation might not make a difference.
“We had 295 people vote. We counted 254 votes for the trade agreement and 41 votes against. We counted that there are 54 adults either on the boats or didn’t come to the meeting. That is not enough votes to make a difference. The trade agreement is accepted.” A cheer went up from the group. Spacer stepped to the front of the stage. “Our counters finished last night, and unless someone objects, we really don’t need to add any more votes. Almost all of the votes were for negotiating the trade agreement with Refugio.”
“Just a blasted minute, Spacer, I was blown dang near to ‘Topia by this storm and I want to know what in the heck is going on.” Beth Ann Gomez was captain of one of the main fishing vessels. “I need to get my folks back to processing this load, so I hope this is a short meeting. What in the heck are you doing now?”
“Settle down, Beth Ann. Blackie got a trade agreement offer with Refugio and we needed to vote on whether or not we’d accept it. Looks like the majority say yes. Now we need to decide who is going to argue with them.” Spacer had expected this, since Beth Ann’s ship was one of the larger ones with the largest crew. “We’ll need to decide what we have that we can trade, too.” He motioned to Blackie to come up to the stage and explain what he and Tony had worked out.
“For those of you who just blew in, when we tried to get a buyback for my latest, well, pickups — ah heck, captives, the authorities in Refugio offered a trade agreement,” Blackie decided it was time to admit that abductions were not honest contracts. “They offered us trading rights at all ports and what we have to do is stop raiding or stopping ships.”
“You consider how we going to get deck hands and workers?” Beth Ann bellowed. “Sorry, ears still not working due to the wind, didn’t mean to holler so loud.”
“Understood, Beth Ann,” Spacer commented. “We found out yesterday that if we give folks protection from the sun, locals will do the work here and if we get things going with this trade, we may be able to recruit some folks from Refugio. Any more comments before Blackie gives us what he and Tony worked out?” No one rose to say anything, so Spacer motioned Blackie and Tony to come to the stage.
Blackie and Tony ran down a list of things they thought could be traded for some of the supplies needed in Port. It was not a very long list, but most of the things would take time. Some were food stocks like dried fish and tree nuts, but most were the handmade items like woven baskets and hampers.
“My personal favorite are the obsidian blades,” Tony said while stroking his newly shaved face. “We have been working for years to develop metal fine enough for shaving. My sister told me the obsidian can be also be used for surgery.”
“I was thinking that dried fish may be one of the main things we can trade,” Blackie said. “Fishing and drying the meat gives lots of us work. I saw the haul that Beth Ann and her crew just brought in, and it is more than we would need for the hot season.”
“We do preserve fish we catch,” Tony said, “but we have to use smoke. Smoking it gives it a different flavor than your dried fish, and the smoked doesn’t keep as well. Those hampers you store it in will make it more valuable.”
“Now, we’ll have Blackie doing some of the talking for us,” Spacer said, “but we need someone who has not been collecting. We need someone to keep our interests protected.” He already had an idea of who he wanted to send besides Blackie but waited for suggestions.
“There is one person who knows more about our folks here than anyone,” said Garza. “Mandy Doe scans each of us and keeps records with Boats. She has made friends with the women who want to go home, so I think we should let her be the spokesperson.”
“But can we afford to have her gone?” a voice from the crowd called out.
“Well, since we aren’t going to be stopping ships for a while, we won’t need to scan people and I think the mothers over in the nursery are getting good at recognizing new powers, we won’t need Mandy as much,” Spacer said.
“Wait a minute,” one of the recently docked ship captains called out. “You’re taking about raiding Refugio, not Utopia. We need food from ‘Topia right now. Where in the heck is Mack? He missed our meet-up to off load.”
“We got run off in Southmost, Paul,” the second in command from Gunson’s ship said. “Mack and Jack Aspin didn’t make it. They got new shooters.”
“Damn, one storm and the whole blasted planet gets crazy!” the second captain joined his crew at the side of the group.
“You late comers — you got any objections to a trade agreement with Refugio?” Spacer wanted to be fair about this decision, and the second ship had only arrived back that morning.
“Honest, I rather would trade than raid. Hah, that rhymes!” the second ship captain laughed at his own words. “Always afraid we’d get hit like Mack did. Rather not take the risk, but we do need stuff from ‘Topia.”
“Just heard about that far shooter from one of Mack’s crew,” Beth Ann said with much less volume. “I agree, especially about the food stuff. Utopia is who we really need to talk with.”
“We may be able to work something out,” Tony said. “I was assigned to Utopia from Refugio but one agreement at a time, please.” He bowed to the ship captains.
“Okay, anyone object to sending Mandy to Refugio as our representative, along with Blackie? Wait, do we need a vote, Boats?” Spacer wanted this over, but he wanted it fair in case the company ever showed up and wanted answers. It had been a while, but they might have missed the ship and its crew. Having a consensus for making decisions was basic company policy.
“I think a voice vote will work,” Boats said. “Again, anyone object?” There was laughter rather than objections. “Guess not. You willing, Mandy?”
“Always dreamed of seeing the rest of our planet, so I’ll go.”
***
“That reminds me, Spacer, will the ship we traveled on be available to Blackie for our trip back?” Tony was anxious to get back. He knew Leah and Traban would be worried he had not let them know he was safe.
“It should be back today. George Batchelder and his crew took it out to check the outer islands for damage. He has wanted to claim the ship to live on, but I don’t think his wife’s interested.” As if on cue, Boats stepped into the Bridge.
“George is back, Spacer and he is not happy about the vote.”
“About what I expected,” Spacer shook his head. Another loud-mouthed, swaggering idiot, he thought sourly as if he didn’t have enough problems.
George had docked the boat at the main dock and Spacer met him at the land end. His crew was gathered on the deck as if they knew a confrontation was coming.
“You can’t do this Spacer. I get a vote just like every GC employee and full contract. I get to make my say. Jose sent a flash that the vote went for the contract. I don’t like it.” Word had gotten around that George was back and looking for a fight with Spacer. Most of the settlement knew he wanted Spacer’s position but couldn’t get the votes. He was too well known.
“You choose to take the ship out to check on the islands even though you knew we were discussing the vote. Blackie told you that most folks were already here.” Spacer suspected George had some contraband stashed on an atoll that he wanted to check more than he was worried about his family. “Even if you got to vote, the difference in yes and noes is so big you and your crew would not change it.”
“Crew? You letting non-contracted vote? That ain’t right, Spacer!”
“Is now, George,” Elder Garza had joined the crowd. “School teacher read our contract close and once you do your intern time, you get to choose what you’re going to do and you’re full time. Everybody has to work but no more forced labor. Should have been that way all along.”
“You mean I don’t have to work for George if I don’t want to?” one of the ship crew called out.
“I own your contract. You work for me until I say you are done.” George yelled back at the man.
“He has it right, George. You better be careful too. We buried Henry yesterday because he tried to keep his crew. They got rough with him. Sorry you had to learn it this way, but you sailed before we got the word about the contracts.” Boots broke the news.
“My brother’s dead?”
“Yeh, the men worked him over pretty badly and he died from it.”
“Nobody stepped up to help him? Where the heck is Joe? He let this happen?”
“You better be careful about calling Joe Marine, George Batchelder,” Betty Batchelder called out from the crowd as she pushed her way forward.
“What are you doing here? Who is watching the place? Woman, I didn’t’ tell you, you could leave.”
“Beth Ann picked us up because it was a bad blow. We brought the warehouse stuff and Jill was happy to get it. They needed that food here in main Port. The littles and I have used it too while you were gone. You never told us there was more food in the big shelter.” A gasp echoed from the group and some of his ship crew backed away from the front of the group. To take food from his children put George in a bad position with the community.
“Warned you the last time you came back to the shelter, George, you and I are bust. I have had enough of your lies and broken promises.” Betty had been a member of George’s crew until their first child came and he moved her to the atoll where he had grown up. “You hiding food was the final thing, that and taking some of the family ration on the ship. That was for the littles and me, not for your crew.”
“Woman, that stored food was our bargaining tool for scarce times. These fools don’t understand. I told you there is enough food to be had in ‘topia and along the coast. All we have to do is sail in and take it. They’re cowards with addled brains. They won’t stop us. Scared to death of us.”
“Got news for you, George,” Beth Ann Gomez spoke up. “Mack got shot dead with a new weapon and they got Aspin too. ‘Topians are not such push overs as you think. We need this trade agreement, and we need to stop this collection and call it what it is, stealing. Because it not getting what’s owed us, it’s pure piracy.”
“Mack was too easy on those people. You start a few fires and they all run around like those sea birds when we rob the nests. Joe, you know the drill. That ship is mine to claim and this trade deal is stupid. Nothing wrong with raiding.” The head of security had entered with two of his men.
“Not going there, George. You got a claim against you by Betty and the Quartermaster. Betty says you took part of the family food ration for the ship instead of giving it to your wife and littles. Jill was pretty mad when Beth Ann brought those jars of cured meat.” Joe Marine looked grimly at the sea captain. “Besides, I want to see this agreement happen. I am as tired as the rest of you with how hungry we all get before the roots are processed or we get some food from the raids. You shorting your own children puts you in the swamp duty for at least a season.”
“My crew needed to keep their strength up. They work hard!” George objected. “Jill didn’t give me enough.”
“You had more to eat that we did, George! You said we were low and made us eat short.” The security detail stepped between the angry crewmen and George.
“You don’t look as if you been missing too many meals, George,” Betty called out. “Not like the littles and me.” Joe Marine nodded to his detail and they grabbed George’s arms to lead him off.
“Wait, the ship is mine!” He broke free of the security men and advanced towards Spacer. “Blackie owed me, and I get it. I claim it.”
“Nice try, George, but everything here belongs to GC. Been that way from the beginning. You get capture rights on some stuff but not this time.” Spacer stood his ground. He realized he had to because a crowd was gathering. George turned towards the gathering group.
“Time that was dropped, I say. Blackie owes me for the info to grab that ship from the ‘topians and I say it is mine.
“Things are changing, George,” Elder Garza said. “Get used to it.” Security grabbed George again and pulled him towards the brig in the swamp.
Leave a Reply