delegationto Jarth Rolan.
"We got some complaint to make. These food servings pretty smalllately. We work hard, we have to eat more."
Jarth Rolan's facial skin had developed wrinkles, though thegalactics' life span was comparable to a human's and he was only aboutforty. He fidgeted.
"I am sorry--oh, yes. Sorry. There have been delays in foodshipments--the same trouble all over. Too many excused from the workforce, you know. Most of the women are pregnant or have children, andteachers and special assignments--but things will improve, believe me.Yes. You will soon find an improvement. Yes--very soon."
The delegation talked it over outside Jarth Rolan's house.
"He's been letting himself go," said a woman. "Did you notice how thinhe's become? And the same with his family."
Laurent reflected. "To raise a lot of kids is hard. My father, he worklike hell all the time. Raise his own food, don't depend on nobody. Ithink that land back of the center, we should plough it up and put insome potatoes."
"On our own time?" Sam exclaimed.
Laurent chuckled. "Well, Sam, you got no kids--you just a young boyeighteen years old. By gar, I think you have gray hair when youtwenty-one."
The others joined the laughter. Sam's lie about his age hadboomeranged--he had been kept in school and denied permission to marryuntil he was officially eighteen, a few months ago.
Laurent fingered his chin thoughtfully. "I think we look over thatland. Maybe we get some time out from our regular work, we do somefarming."
Before the blowup on Earth, the galactics had made occasional landingsto gather animals and seeds of food plants. Certain centers were putunder government control to grow food for the slaves. The people atJarth Rolan's center saw that this arrangement was breaking downbecause of the increasing slave population and the diversion of laborto child raising. They looked over the piece of land and Laurentokayed it. They went back to Jarth Rolan. He approved at once.
"Oh, indeed. I can obtain all the equipment you'll need. Get startedright away. We can grow a good part of our own food. Yes. I am sure itwill work out."
"We goin' need some time for work the farm," Laurent pointed out.
"Oh? I thought maybe in your spare time--"
"You want to kill us?" Sam demanded. "Put us on an extra job afterworking us hard twelve hours a day?"
"But--there's so little coming in. Still, maybe you're right. Worththe extra trouble and expense now. Building for the future--that's theidea."
* * * * *
Jarth Rolan notified his group leader of the arrangement and itpercolated swiftly up through the hierarchy to the council of thehighest group heads, who directed policy for the entire Galaxy. Therewere nine of them and they talked over this development.
"I approve. We should have done it this way from the beginning."
"Of course. But certain advocates of government control insisted onpublic ownership of the food farms--"
"What do you mean, certain advocates? If you mean me, be galacticenough to say so."
"I intend no personal offense to anybody. But there is bound to beinefficiency in any government project--"
The chairman pounded the table. "Stay with the subject. It has beensuggested that each center grow part of its food. I am in favor."
"But it cuts down the available labor force. We're having complaintsnow about the shortage of slaves--"
"Think of the future. I admit the present situation is difficult. It'slike raising a herd of prize cattle--all expense and no profit atfirst. Then the herd is built up and suddenly you're rich."
"But we're putting so much into it--"
"The more we put in, the more we take out. And they're multiplyingrapidly. Remember our new goal of two slaves for each galactic--onefor the day shift and one for the night. It's the only way our peoplecan live a decent life, freed from routine labor, devoting themselvesto art and science."
"That's right. We work so our children can lead the better life. It'sworth some sacrifice."
The chairman stood up. "Most of us seem willing to endure a littlehardship now for the benefit of our children. I suggest we endorsethis new procedure."
* * * * *
Laurent, Jr., married the girl next door. Laurent celebrated thewedding with a barrel of beer he had brewed on the farm. Sam becameglassy-eyed and lectured the young couple.
"Just wait for the right time. Rise up and capture their spaceships.That's what we'll do. We'll go back to Earth and then let them try toget us off it again."
"But Earth is dead," Laurent, Jr., objected. "We can't live there.Poisonous radiation."
"By gar!" Laurent drained another brew. "You believe everything theytell you, hah? We goin' show them sometime. Like Sam says, not now,but sometime. Maybe me and Sam don't do it, but don't you kidsforget--you not goin' be slaves always. You watch for the right time,like Sam says."
His son looked dubious. "But what you told me about Earth doesn'tsound so good. Like the way you were so cold and hungry in that shackin Canada. And Mama walking up five flights in New York after workingall day in the garment factory. And all those wars! Why did youpeople spend half your time shooting each other, Dad?"
Laurent belched indignantly. "By gar, boy! We was free! We don't haveno galactic stand over us, do this, do that. We was free!"
"We don't work so hard," said his son. "And look at old Jarth Rolanand the others out there--they've given us the day off, but thegalactics are all busy in the fields. Everybody has to work, Dad."
Laurent looked through a slight haze at the masters laboring in thepotato fields. Farm work and teaching and other special assignmentshad created a shortage of personal slaves. Jarth Rolan gave preferencein leasing slaves to those who came and helped him at the center.
Since having a personal slave was a mark of prestige among thegalactics, many of those laboring on the farm were from the highestlevels of society.
"They don't know nothing about raise potatoes," Laurent grumbled. "Weput in complaint, by damn. We want each one have his own land. I worklike jackass, I want to get paid for it."
* * * * *
The highest group council was in session. One member was explaining:"It's the custom of tipping slaves. At first, those who could get aslave were so happy that they often gave him a few coins. Now thecustom is firmly established--anybody who doesn't tip a slave isconsidered cheap. I do it and so do you."
"Of course. What's wrong with giving them a few _polins_ now and then?Or a _dopolin_ or two when they have a baby or a wedding?"
"Nothing wrong with it, in itself. But they don't spend anything. Wesupply their food and clothing; nothing else we have seems to appealto them. The money goes out of circulation. It's estimated that halfthe money in the Galaxy is being hoarded by slaves."
"What? That's impossible. Just from those small tips?"
"Small tips, but day after day; year after year. Add up some time whatyou've given and multiply by the number who've been doing it."
"Then that's behind our economic troubles. A currency shortage. Can wetake it away from them?"
"Of course not. Besides being unethical, it would turn them againstus. They wouldn't understand."
"Then we'll abolish tipping."
"Too late. What we need is an ethical way of getting back thatcurrency."
A new member spoke: "I understand that on Earth these slaves wereoften addicted to alcohol, gambling and various alkaloids. Perhaps wecould introduce these items, under government control, of course--"
He stopped. Eight pair of eyes were blazing at him.
"You're new here," the chairman said. "If you ever make anothersuggestion like that--"
They pondered. The chairman fingered some papers.
"Here's a suggestion. The slaves have been petitioning for the rightto own land. It seems to be the only thing they'll spend their moneyfor."
"Impossible!"
"But maybe--"
"And have the land subject to condemnation by the government at a fairprice."
The chairman called for order. "Let's argue this out. Remember theslaves will need time to work their land. Since their work day is downto nine hours, we'll have to arrange something."
* * * * *
Jean had been complaining about the lumps in the mattress. WhenLaurent took them out, there was enough in galactic currency to buy apiece of
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