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The atmospheric black hole definitely could have happened at a worse time.
The busy season is now over, and many of the crops aren’t growing anyway.
The eyren are a year-round event, however. The uquira and uquirapods adapt
well to the changing climate, and in fact, as it cools down, there are more
chances to plant eyren. The trick is being able to find the clumps amidst
the fallen leaves, and later, the precipitation. That takes manpower, or
technology, which sort of goes against the community’s practices.
Everyone is struggling. Jande’s story is not unique as many farms suffer
attrition. There are tens of billions of organic people in this galaxy, so
it’s not hard to find someone willing to take a century out of their lives
to farm on Bida, but it’s hard to keep them. Quiratan has shrunk in recent
years because of it, mostly with smaller farms being absorbed by neighbors,
but a few have shut down entirely. The AKBH, along with the ongoing threat
of future singularities, has only expedited the downfall.
Jande has to recruit more people if he wants to keep his culture alive, and
not only by finding partners for himself, but also for others. This is the
best time to do it. Last season’s dead crops have been tilled back into the
land to replenish the nitrogen content, which is best done early so the
microbes have time to complete the process before next planting season. It
was hard work, but he’s all caught up now, so he can sit down and find more
people. But first, his parents want to talk with him.
He’s sitting in front of them now, bouncing his knee impatiently while they
half-smile and sip their tea. They have always been like this. Even when
there’s a ton of work to do, they drag out the conversation, especially the
beginning of it. They come from an era where a legal lifetime was literally
about the maximum amount of time a human would live, yet they’re always
wasting the minutes on...dramatic effect. “Could we be quite quick?” Jande
asks. “I need to get back to the boards.”
“Your father is retired,” his mother begins. “It was unexpected, but it
can’t be undone. His body is younger than yours now. How do you feel about
that?”
“This is how things are done,” Jande replies. “I knew this was gonna happen
one day, I just didn’t know it would be now. He’s been taking it in stride.
I mean it, Father, you have accepted your new life admirably. I hope to
mimic you when it is my time.”
Mother nods as she’s listening to Jande. “When the shed came down, you were
trapped under the entrance. Your body could not move, so you transferred to
a bot.”
“You don’t have to recap, we all know what happened,” Jande contends.
“What you don’t know,” Father goes on, “is that we had a forensics expert
survey the scene and confirm which of us died first. As I was under a heavy
beam in the barn, my body expired instantly. Your body survived long
enough for you to induce suicide. For a few seconds, you had inherited the
role of Head of Household.”
Jande narrows his eyes, at the both of them, but particularly at his father.
“What are you saying, that because of a technicality, I retired immediately
after you, and I have no right to continue farming the land? This body is
weak. It is not an upgrade. It is not a retirement model, and I have been
toiling for the last couple of weeks.”
“Have you noticed the outsider who patrols our perimeter?” Mother asks him.
“You mean the one from the giant metal shuttle, which can be seen even from
here?” Jande asks rhetorically. “Yes, I think I did notice him. Why?”
“He’s here to protect us from the Eyrenlanders,” Mother continues. “They
want to come in and farm these lands themselves. Meanwhile, you are perusing
the network, looking for a spouse or two at a time to fill only a few slots
to reach the bare minimum.”
“This is our way,” Jande reminds her. “Quiratan is not an interstellar
business. We are family farmers. To work, you must be part of a family.
Scale is not the goal.”
“That’s true,” Father agrees. “If the Eyrenlanders were allowed in
unconditionally, they would likely expand within the next decade until they
reached the same size that Eyrenland was before the black hole showed up and
destroyed it.”
Mother places a hand upon her husband’s knee to take the floor. “Perhaps,
son, it is time for that. The Eyrenlanders left us alone when they had
everything they needed. They were able to provide the eggs for the galaxy’s
demand. Now things are different. Now Quiratan has become the single source
of authentic eyren. I mentioned the forensics report to give you an easy way
out. You retain the honor of not retiring intentionally, but benefit from
the accident by accepting it as retirement. No one would blame you for it.
We’ll tell them it was your father’s insistence. In his last act as Head of
Household, he declared the end of the bloodline, and the end of the farm.”
Jande balls both of his hands into fists and trembles in seething anger,
holding himself back from exploding. “You want me to quit, and you have
found a bad loophole that, if our ways had been codified into law, would
never hold up in court. And you think, after years of raising me to
take over your legacy, that I would take this offer?” He stands abruptly.
“You do not know me at all, Mother. This farm is mine now. I was
going to farm it with you next season, but it is clear that you are planning
to retire soon too. So why don’t you just do it and leave? Follow Suki to
Castlebourne, or Evers to Varkas Reflex. I will take five, six,
seven husbands and wives if that’s what it takes! I’ll not abandon my
birthright, and I cannot believe that you of all people would suggest
I do!”
His parents stay calm. His father clears his throat. “We were not suggesting
that you retire offworld. There is a way for you to gain control over, not
only the farm, but all of Quiratan. There is an ancient rank known as the
Superintendent. If you reinstitute this role, it would be you who decides
who works what farms. Eminent domain, easements, and the like; you would
have power over all of it. You would be able to transition Eyrenlanders into
more traditional Quiratan obsolescent practices. And once the positions are
filled to your satisfaction, you could turn away the excess.”
Jande sits back down. He has spent his whole life learning about this world.
He has mostly focused on agriculture, but he studied history as well, and he
has never heard of a superintendent. If it’s true, that would be an
interesting development. “How would I go about this? Would I walk down main
street with the biggest gun, and announce that I’m in charge now, or is
there some kind of ceremony or election, or what?” This doesn’t mean he’s
gonna do it; he’s just asking questions. There is no harm in asking
questions.
Mother smiles, pleased with herself and Father for managing to get through
to him. “Superintendents are in charge of elections, placing them
above the bureaucracy. There are no guns, and no election. But there
is a series of tribulations. It would not be easy, and we would need
to find someone to moderate and judge.”
“But, son,” Father begins. “Once you open the floodgates, you will not be
able to control what else flows through. Others will surely challenge you
for the job.”
Jande nods and relaxes a little in his chair. “Tell me more.”
