Silence fell after Cesar concluded. After a few moments, Cesar said, "We will leave you to consider our proposal, Raymond. You know where to reach me." He waved to the others and they slipped out of the section past the distracted Raymond Koh.
"What do you think?" Ron asked." Will he do it?"
Cesar shrugged. "I cannot say. Raymond is very intelligent and very methodical. He failed that scholarship by two points, and I still suspect foul play. When he finally decided to go with Rafael, he spent nearly a year studying martial arts and honing his fighting skills first. He could be a great asset to our little community. He will carefully consider every detail."
It was not until after lunch that Raymond Koh came to Cesar Montero's bunk group. He wore a frown.
"Wise one," he began, "You know me too well. You know exactly which buttons to push." Suddenly he smiled. "But you have never meant me harm, even when I was one of Rafael's thugs. I have thought carefully about your proposition."
He turned to Ron. "I do not know how many credits you have left," he said, "But I must know whether you can provide one hundred twenty credits for a stunner and power pack, and still have enough to buy out three more people."
Ron smiled. "One hundred twenty? Our contact in the Undie dorm paid five hundred for a stunner and two power packs."
Raymond Koh smiled and shrugged. "Perhaps the difference between Undies and Drones. Or perhaps your contact was not as good as you thought."
Ron shrugged. "Perhaps. At any rate, we have seven hundred left. Since we boost out tomorrow, I have no reason to try to keep them. But I thought there were only two of Rafael's thugs left."
Raymond nodded. "There are. But Kan Tho has a girlfriend. I'd rather not have him coming back down here to visit her." He turned back to Cesar. "All right, wise one. If you can get the people of the dorm to agree, I will accept your proposition, with a few provisos.
"First," he continued, "I will require a stunner and, if we have enough credits, a blaster, both with spare power packs. If I am to protect the dorm against raiders from other dorms, I must have the means. Second, I reserve the right to modify the salary as the onboard economy develops. Beer may not become the currency of choice. For the present, I will accept twenty-
five
bulbs of beer per week, in addition to my regular allotment, of course.
"Third, I wish to form a militia from volunteers among the people. If we are successful in setting up a peaceful community here, we may be seen as a target by more aggressive dorms."
He turned back to Ron. "Finally, I will want you to find swaps in the Undie dorm for our three exiles. No more women with no skills. I expect you to find us educated, skilled people, preferably with the capability of teaching those skills to others. We are faced with years of enforced idleness. Our people should spend that time learning skills they can use to build a new world."
Cesar levered himself to an upright position, though still drifting in mid-air. He was beaming. "Raymond," he proclaimed, "I
knew
I was right about you. We will put your proposal before the people as soon as possible."
Ron frowned. "I think I can carry out my part, if I hurry. But you're going to have to convince the 'exiles' as you call them to leave." He shrugged and took out all but one hundred of his credits. "And as a sign of my good faith, here are our credits. I'm holding out a hundred for emergencies upstairs, so that leaves you with six hundred."
Raymond nodded and took the bills. "So," he said, "we all have work to do. I will go buy the stunner and reason with our three exiles. Cesar Montero, you and Messer Renko must get this madhouse organized for a mass meeting. And you, Messer Creding…"
"Call me Ron,"
Raymond nodded. "You have work upstairs."
They all shook hands. "If we are lucky," Vlad said, "instead of being the end of the line for us, this will be the beginning." They scattered to complete their tasks.
Ron was a bit nervous as he entered the Undie dorm. Even though he'd left it only hours before, somehow it felt as though he had been gone for a long time.
Almost as soon as he entered, he was approached by a short, wide man with a bandage over one eye and an assortment of cuts, scratches and bruises. It took Ron a few seconds to recognize Tom Abbott. Abbott had been the only other 'straight' in their original bunk group.
The man grabbed Ron's shoulder with a meaty, scarred hand. "Thank God," he said through a battered mouth. "I was afraid you wouldn't be coming back. Please! Get me out of here!"
"What happened?"
Abbott cocked an arm toward the bunk group. "Those gang creeps came back. This time they had two others with them. They talked this time, but not much. Two of them grabbed me while the other two beat on me until I gave them my key, and they stripped my locker. I've got nothing left!"
Ron frowned. So it was starting already. The gang punks were showing off for each other. None of them had any need or use for Tom's things. They were beginning the "dominance dance." He'd hoped to avoid those problems. He would have to hurry.
He turned to Tom, "All right, Tom. I'll get you out. But we'll be moving to a dorm full of illiterate Asian proles. Will you be able to handle that?"
The burly man nodded enthusiastically before stopping with a groan. "You're damned right I can handle it. I should have gone with you and the whore."
Ron stiffened. "You mean 'Tara'."
Tom's head sagged. "You're right. I'm sorry. I
do
know better; I'm just upset."
Ron relaxed and nodded. "Okay. Now, I need to find two other 'straights' who'd like to swap. But they need to be educated and skilled, and willing to teach others what they know."
Tom frowned in thought. "Well, there was this guy I met at lunch. Older guy. Sure
looks
like a teacher. Name of Robert Franks. He had somethin' to do with computers. Didn't talk much."
As he and Tom drifted down the central corridor, Ron could feel the eyes upon him. He could only hope that the story of his fight would deter the toughs and show-offs long enough for him to get out of here. If he managed to get clear without trouble, he swore he would never return.
They found Robert Franks huddled between the top bunk and what would become the ceiling in the corner of the dorm. It took gentle coaxing by Tom to bring him out.
Framks was a man in late middle age, thin, pale, and bookish. He cringed at any quick movement, and his terrified eyes were constantly swiveling. "Please! Help me! They're savages!"
Ron spent a few minutes calming the older man. Finally, he was able to get coherent speech from the man, but it took several minutes to learn that Robert Franks had a Master's Degree in computer science, and was skilled with both hardware and software. Asked if he'd be willing to live among illiterate Asians gathered from a ghetto, he begged for the chance.
They needed one more, but Ron's search plans were interrupted when they encountered the teenage gang thugs that had beaten and robbed Tom.
They were merely drifting down the central corridor, with both Tom and Robert huddling against him, when the four of them swung out of a bunk group to surround them.
The teens were laughing at Tom's wounds and Robert's cringing subservience when one of the thugs recognized Ron. He nudged the one beside him. "Hey, I know him! He's the one busted up Jack Tundell."
The leader turned to Ron. "Is that right? You the guy busted Tundell's face?"
Ron straightened. "Yeah. I could demonstrate if you kids keep this crap up." He desperately hoped his bluff worked. If not, he was in for a massive beating, and maybe even death. But his eyes never wavered as they met and held the leader's.
He suppressed a sigh of relief as the leader's head dropped. "Ah, we din't mean nothin'."
Seeing an opportunity, Ron asked if they still had Tom's meager supplies. When the leader replied that they did, Ron offered to buy the stuff from them for EarthGov credits. He started at four, and let them talk him up to eight, or two each. Tom hugged the box to his chest as they moved along to cheery goodbyes from the gang. Ron breathed the huge sigh of relief he'd been suppressing.
They were nearing the dorm hatch when Ron heard a woman's scream. Whirling in mid-air, he was just in time to be struck by a body and sent spinning down the corridor. Instinct made him grab onto what he realized was soft, yielding flesh.
He grabbed a passing bunk mount and pulled them to a halt.
The woman was tall, blond and rather thin and small-breasted. That last was easy to tell, because her shipsuit had a huge rip down the front, exposing the body beneath. A pair of glasses were askew on what a quick glance told him seemed to be a rather attractive face.
A gravelly roar came down the corridor. "Come back here, you skinny bitch!"
Ron looked up and saw a man swarming clumsily down the aisle in pursuit of the woman. He wasn't particularly large, but was well-muscled. He was also drunk and stark naked.
When the man saw the woman in Ron's arms, he roared. "Bastard! Tryna steal my woman, huh?" He kicked off from a pipe stanchion, and came sailing at Ron like a missile.
Ron had little time to react. He dodged the man's charge, and grabbed his arm as he flew past, pulling to add momentum and alter the man's course to steer him head-on into the wall.
He grabbed the woman's arm, and shouting, "Let's get out of here!" to the others, he propelled himself toward the dorm hatch. Whether from surprise or respect, no one interfered as the four made their way out.
Ron didn't stop until they had passed several other dorms, and had reached the hatch to the next deck down. Now, of course the hatch was vertical and the lower deck actually alongside their current one. Ron guided the others through the hatch before pausing. They were all gasping.
Ron took the opportunity to examine his latest "catch." He was afraid Raymond and Cesar would be disappointed, but he really didn't see where he'd had a choice – or even a chance to choose.
The woman was, as he'd first thought, a tall, thin blonde. Now that they had stopped, she was busy trying to straighten her glasses. Before being nearly torn from her body, her shipsuit had been zipped primly to her neck. Now, she was squeezing her upper arms to her sides, trying to cover as much of her body as possible while her hands were busy with her glasses.
After a moment, she finished bending the frames into shape, and clutched the torn shipsuit closed as she examined her new companions. She didn't seem especially impressed.
"Hello," Ron said as the silence began to drag. "My name is Ron Creding. This is Tom Abbott, and this is Robert Franks. And you are…?"
"Susan James," she said. She hesitated, and tears began streaming from her eyes. "
Doctor
Susan James – or I
was
!" She broke down completely, and the men stood helpless, exchanging uncomfortable looks.
"So, what happened?" Ron asked finally.
"I don't
know
!" she wailed. "I was having a drink with a colleague in the University Club, and then suddenly I woke up in a
Classification Center
! And nobody would
listen
to me!"
Ron was beginning to understand. "Tell me, Doctor James, has there been a recent scandal of any kind at the university?"
The tears stopped as she answered, "Why, yes, as a matter of fact. I had to report my Department Head for putting his name on some of my research. How did you know?"
Ron shook his head. "Universities are vital to the future of the EarthGov. I'm sure EarthGov would be happy to rid a Department Head of a troublesome faculty member."
The tears were gone now, replaced by an incredulous stare. "Y…You mean that
Doctor Stevens
did this to me?" She was obviously shocked.
Ron shrugged. "I'd almost bet on it."
The shock began to fade, to be replaced by fear and desperation. "But…but what do I do
now
?" The enormity of her plight was beginning to dawn on her. This
wasn't
all some horrible mistake. It had been planned and implemented with the purpose of removing her from Earth – from her entire life!
The tears were threatening to return, so Ron hurriedly replied, "There's nothing you can do." He hardened his voice. "Your old life is gone, Dr. James. Gone forever. Your apartment, your office, your cat, all gone. And they will never return. You should have faced this weeks ago, in the Classification Center. But you didn't understand, and thought you'd be rescued." He shook his head. "I'm sorry."
"But…but surely the Captain…" her voice trailed off as she saw Ron shake his head.
"I'm sorry, Dr. James. The Captain has no authority here. He's a colonist, just like you are. After we boost out tomorrow, his authority will be absolute. But that will be too late."
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I don't believe you. There must be
someone
…" Her voice trailed off again as she saw all three of the men's heads shake.
For a moment, it seemed she would break down again, but she suddenly straightened and gained control of herself. "All right," she said in a normal tone. "The actions of that man back there certainly bear out your statements. So, what do I do now?"
Ron nodded approval. The woman had had a nasty shock. After weeks of denial, of certainty that it was all a mistake, that she would be rescued, she had been forced to face the loss of the only life she'd ever known. A life of privilege. And now…
Ron shrugged. "Your choices are very limited, Dr. James. You can return to your assigned bunk in the dorm we just left…" He almost smiled at her shudder of horror.
"Your
only
other option is to find someone in another dorm that will trade bunks with you. Now, it happens I was in that dorm looking for people to swap bunks, and you are the type of educated, intelligent person I was seeking. But our dorm is a Drone dorm. Nearly all the residents are poor, illiterate Asians from the ghettos of the Philippines. You are welcome to join us, to spend the next years trying to create a community that can survive on a new planet."