Outside, the sky was overcast, threatening rain. Kailee looked up at it nervously, then tugged at her hood, making sure that it was there. The people on the streets glanced at them, their eyes following the Earth-born as they walked down towards the centre of town. After Barry had proved himself so careless, Kailee realised, the townsfolk simply didn't trust the others not to be equally careless. And yet, they didn't seem inclined to punish the entire group, no matter how wary they were. Kailee didn't really understand what she was seeing.
A small crowd was gathering in front of a wooden stage, all sheltered under a large overhang. Some of them looked younger than Kailee herself, others looked older; she felt a flicker of disgust before remembering just what material kids on Earth learned to access before they even reached their first decade. She'd actually downloaded flicks herself that had consisted of someone pretending to be beaten to death. It had all been pretence and yet it had been staggeringly real. But the flicks could do astonishing things with special effects, she knew; she’d read all about them. It was easy to create an illusion of almost anything, with a little effort.
She found herself shivering as a cold gust of wind blew in from the ocean, bringing with it the scent of salt water and fish. Their first trip on a boat had been hair-raising, even though their escort had sworn blind that they were perfectly safe. Kailee had panicked and hidden in the bottom of the boat, utterly convinced that they were going to flip over and drown at any second. There might have been locals swimming in the sea, but Kailee couldn't swim. It hadn't been one of the skills she’d been taught in school. And even if it had been, she’d heard enough about the public baths not to dare go to the swimming pools.
A man wearing dark clothes stepped up onto the stage and glared at the crowd until it fell silent. When he spoke, his voice echoed naturally across the square; it took Kailee a moment to realise that he was speaking normally, not using any form of amplifier like the teachers at school. And the crowd was letting him speak!
“There are two young miscreants to be punished,” he said, shortly. “One has been sentenced to ten lashes for vandalism and acts likely to put lives at risk. The other has been sentenced to five lashes for carelessness and failing to stop the first from acting. Once the punishment has been completed, the incident will not be discussed again.”
It had the air, Kailee realised, of something being stated for the record. What did he mean when he said that the incident would not be discussed again? It was hard to get anything noted down in one’s permanent record on Earth – but once it was noted down, it was ... well, permanent. Barry and Darrin wouldn't be able to get away from being whipped in front of a gawking crowd, would they? Would they even be able to face their fellows afterwards?
She watched, feeling an odd mixture of emotions, as Barry and Darrin were brought out, wearing nothing above the waist and with their hands cuffed in front of them. Their faces were very pale; Barry seemed to be trying to glare at the crowd, while Darrin looked lost in his own thoughts. The men escorting them ordered them to kneel, then stepped backwards. A moment later, one of them produced the whip.
Kailee felt sick the moment she saw it. It wasn't quite what she’d been expecting; instead, it was a long thin stick that swished unpleasantly as the man spun it through the air. She found herself wondering just how much harm it would do if it struck her bare skin, then pushed the thought aside. This was wrong ...
And yet, what else did they deserve?
***
Darrin didn't dare look up as he heard something swishing through the air. It had been an uncomfortable night in the jail cell, followed by a small breakfast and a brief explanation of what they had to do. They could make as much noise as they liked, the sheriff had explained, but once they were ordered to kneel they were to remain as still as possible. If they had a problem with that, he’d added, their hands would be cuffed to the ground and there would be extra lashes.
He tried to ignore the crowd – they'd been told that their fellows would be witnessing – as he braced himself. Pain he could handle, he told himself. But as the whipping man stepped up to stand beside him, he felt his resolve leaking away. Yates had been right; he was a coward, endlessly making excuses for himself.
“You can wallow in your own filth, if you like,” the man whispered, too quietly for anyone apart from Darrin to hear. “Or you can learn from the experience and make something of yourself.”
Darrin sensed, somehow, the whip rising, then it cracked down over his exposed back. For a long moment, he felt nothing ... and then he screamed as a line of fire seemed to burn into his skin. The pain was excruciating, worse than anything he’d endured from Fitz; he started to move, to leap to his feet, before realising that it would only bring more pain. Four more strokes followed in quick succession, leaving him lying on the stage with his back on fire. He no longer cared about the watching crowd; all he cared about was enduring the pain. And then, moments later, he heard Barry howling in agony.
Had Barry ever been hurt? Darrin honestly couldn't say he knew the bigger boy all that well, not when they hadn't had much to do with one another before leaving Earth. Had he been beaten by his father or stepfather ... did he even have a father? But in the end, it didn't really matter. All that mattered was that Darrin had made a mistake when he’d effectively befriended Barry, whatever his motivations. And that he would have as little to do with Barry as possible from then onwards.
Strong hands gripped him and helped him to his feet. Darrin looked around to see the crowd slipping out of the square, now the show was over. His back still hurt, a throbbing that felt worse than anything Fitz had ever doled out, but he allowed himself a moment of relief as the cuffs were removed. He turned and caught sight of Gary, standing at the edge of the square to get one last look at the whipped boys. Gary looked ... pleased. And how could Darrin blame him?
There is always someone stronger, he thought, remembering how easily Yates had picked him up, despite his size. No wonder Gary had been so pleased to see them hurt. If he couldn't fight himself, he could at least enjoy their suffering.
“I should warn you of something,” the sheriff said. Darrin noted, through the pain, that Yates was standing behind the man, his face unreadable. “This is your one chance to redeem yourself. Act badly again and you’ll be sent to the chain gang. And few people ever return from the chains.”
Somehow, Darrin found himself believing each and every word.
Chapter Twenty-Two
This seems particularly absurd when one realises that, as long as a teacher kept his or her head down, they were guaranteed life-time employment. Trying to be a good teacher, by pushing kids forward, could result in losing their jobs; doing nothing, or even actively harming students, went unpunished.
- Professor Leo Caesius. Education and the Decline and Fall of the Galactic Empire.
Austin had been told, more than once, that quitting in midstream was the worst possible thing a person could do to himself. It would make him a quitter, his father had said, someone who could never embark on a project for fear of being unable to complete it. And his father had more than lived up to his own words. He’d pushed Austin hard, but he'd pushed himself harder. Austin still remembered the old man’s single-minded determination to make the farm succeed, even if he worked himself into an early grave. Even a minor illness had not been allowed to stand in his way.
And yet Austin had seriously considered abandoning the Earth-born and going back to the farm. He had never considered, not really, that someone his age would be so careless with a weapon. Such carelessness was often rapidly cured at school, with liberal applications of corporal punishment if necessary. Going to the shooting range was a common activity among people his age; hell, kids of nine or ten were allowed to go without their parents, as long as they had their shooting badge from school. He’d honestly never realised just how stupid – or ignorant – Earth-born people could be.
They’re children, Uncle Ramos had said, as he'd undid his belt
. Children. You have to treat them as kids.
The thought had stung almost as badly as the belt. Austin was sixteen, but he’d been responsible and mature for years. He'd learned how to work on the farm, how to take care of the animals and how to cope with problems; after all, help was hours away at best. He was no child! Children were fools who couldn't be trusted outside without a leash, who didn't know the difference between safe and dangerous – and who didn’t know who to ask, if they needed to learn. Austin hadn't been a child since he’d turned ten years old and, by then, he'd been helping on the farm for years.
But the Earth-born were still children.
He'd known a couple of boys who had had a kind of learning disability, one that had made them oversized children and kept them permanently immature. They hadn't been bad, they’d just never really understood anything. But the visitors – the children – from Earth had no such problems. They were just ignorant. But the universe didn't really care about the difference between ignorance and stupidity, not when the crunch came. They’d be killed either way.
They didn't know how to cook. They had to be forced to clean. Chances were, they hadn't even realised that their bedding needed to be changed every so often. They didn't know how to drive a truck or fly a light aircraft. They didn't know what was edible and what wasn't, no matter what they’d been taught. Austin had learned the hard way that some seemingly safe plants were actually quite dangerous, if one didn't cook them properly. The Earth-born wouldn't even know where to begin.
He looked up as he heard someone at the door, expecting Gary. But it was Darrin, standing there as if he expected to be told to get lost. Austin was tempted to do just that, particularly after the thrashing he’d received from his uncle. Basic politeness, on the other hand, told against it. He could at least wait to see what the young man – the child – from Earth had to say.
“I wanted to say sorry,” Darrin said. He didn't come any further into the kitchen. “I didn't mean to get you in trouble.”
“I’m sure you didn’t,” Austin said. He had dealt with the situation as his father had taught, quickly and efficiently, but afterwards he'd started to shake badly. Barry could easily have shot someone, merely for laughs. But he wouldn't have found the aftermath very funny at all. If someone blamed Austin for it and managed to make the charge stick, he might well have been indentured until the debt was paid. “You’re just a child, aren't you?”
Darrin didn't look as if he intended to dispute it. “I don't know what to do,” he confessed, slowly. There was a frustrated hopelessness in his voice that sounded more than a little irritating. “Going back to Earth seems pointless, but what can I do here?”
“Learn basic firearms safety, for one thing,” Austin snapped, feeling his temper flare. Darrin seemed to have recovered quickly from the neural whip, although he was probably still aching. Austin hoped the immature idiot was still aching. The marks his uncle had left on his buttocks would take days to fade completely. “Do you realise just how close you came to getting shot?”
“Yes, I know,” Darrin said. He looked as though he meant it. “What can I do on this planet?”
Austin considered it for a long moment. Most settlers came to farm, although a handful found themselves working other trades. The craftsmen in the city were always looking for apprentices and quite a few of the newcomers preferred the chance of becoming a craftsman rather than working on a farm. But someone completely on his own?
“You could hire onto a fishing crew,” he said, after a moment. The normal crews were composed of families, keeping the boat safely in their hands, but there would probably be openings for someone who was willing to learn. “Can you swim?”
Darrin shook his head, wordlessly.
“I learned to swim when I was four,” Austin told him, remembering Silver Lake. It had been a great place for young boys and girls. “You really do need to learn, particularly here.”
He wondered what else Darrin could do. “There are apprenticeships for vehicle mechanics,” he added, after a moment. “It’s dirty work, but I’m told it is very rewarding. Or you could try to sign up with a butcher or baker. They’d certainly give you a chance.”
“But ... what if I failed?” Darrin asked. “I don’t know what I can do.”
“There's always grunt labour,” Austin said, tiredly. He was here because he wanted to improve his chances of becoming a Bush Ranger. There was no point in whining just because he had to pay his dues before earning the reward. “It pays well, really.”
He turned to look at the Earth-born boy. “I don’t know how things work on Earth,” he said, “but you were really quite lucky. Here, you would count as an adult. You were lucky not to be punished as one.”
***
Gary watched Darrin and Barry with quiet amusement, keeping his face carefully blank. Neither of them looked comfortable, despite the lack of marks on their skin. Gary had risked a glance at their backs after they’d returned to the lodge and discovered that they were almost completely unmarked. It made no sense to him until he’d looked up the information in the briefing notes and discovered that a neural whip left almost no marks on the bare skin. But they were still definitely aching and that was enough for Gary.
“We will be leaving from the landing strip after breakfast,” Yates reminded them. He’d told them to pack last night, leaving half of their clothes and supplies in the lodge. “There will be a four-hour flight to the farm, where we will be spending the next week. It will also give people time to forget us.”
He cast a look at Darrin and Barry that would have made Gary cringe, if it had been directed at him. Darrin looked subdued – he’d sat well away from Barry – but Barry looked mutinous, as if he was on the verge of doing something else stupid. Gary silently prayed that he would do something that could get him thrown back into jail – or worse. He had no doubt that Yates could handle anything Barry might throw at him, then hammer him into the ground.
Breakfast passed quickly, allowing Gary to get a quick wash and check his bag before leaving the bedroom. He didn't trust Barry not to try to take out his clothes and leave them behind. Once he'd checked the bag, he added his reader to the top. There was enough material loaded onto the device to keep him happy for years, if necessary. And besides, it included a full copy of the briefing notes. He didn't want to be caught by surprise again.
“Check everything,” Yates reminded them, as he walked back outside to the door. “And then check again.”
Gary nodded, then followed Yates and the others back onto the streets. This time, the sky was a perfect blue; high overhead, he could see birds wheeling in the morning air. It wasn't quite hot yet, but he knew that the temperature was going to rise rapidly as the morning turned into afternoon. He lifted an eyebrow when he saw Darrin walking next to Austin, chatting to the colonial boy in hushed whispers, then grinned as he realised that Kailee was walking right next to him. It wasn’t much, compared to what the other boys boasted of – normally before mocking Gary for being a virgin – but it was something. Kailee gave him a sharp glance, then looked away. Clearly, she wasn't so impressed by walking beside him.
They reached the outskirts of the city and turned into a large grassy field. The aircraft at one end of the field looked tiny, smaller than the shuttle that had carried them down to the surface of the planet. Gary sucked in a breath as he saw it clearly; it looked surprisingly old and fragile, as if it needed more than just a coat of paint. The briefing notes had warned that colonial technology was deliberately kept as simple as possible – it would be impossible to repair one of the heavy-lift shuttles on Meridian – but there had to be limits, surely?
The colonials minimise risk as much as possible, he thought, remembering something that Yates had said. But that doesn't mean they try to render it completely non-existent. They know that is that is an impossible dream.
“Captain Flint,” Yates called, as a burly man emerged from the aircraft. “These are my charges.”
Flint ga
ve them all a long look. “Welcome to Old Lace, as I call her,” he said, nodding towards the aircraft. “She may be old, but she’ll get you wherever you want to go.”
“Good luck,” Janet said. She waved and turned to walk away. “See you when you get back.”
Gary blinked in surprise – she wasn't coming with them?
“No,” Janet said, when Kailee asked. “I have to go smooth some ruffled feathers at the spaceport.”
Inside the plane, the cabin was surprisingly cramped and the seats were small, too small for someone like Barry to sit comfortably. Flint buzzed around them, issuing seat assignments; Gary grinned to himself as he got both a window seat and Kailee sitting next to him. Barry and Darrin were carefully separated; Barry at the front, Darrin at the back of the aircraft.
“Listen up,” Flint barked, once they were all sitting down. “Stay in your seats unless you absolutely have to go take a piss.” He pointed towards a small door at the rear of the plane. “If you have to take a piss, go quickly then come back and put your seatbelt back on. If I tell you to stay in your seats, do as I say even if you have to wet yourself. And if I tell you to brace, sit like this” – he demonstrated – “and pray. Any questions?”
Gary wanted to ask if he could get off, but he didn't quite dare. Flying in the aircar had been bad enough, yet Old Lace made the aircar look completely safe. Flint walked to the front of the aircraft and took the controls. A dull roar echoed through Old Lace as she came to life, Flint calling out strange words as he ran down a long checklist. Gary found himself wondering just how many of them were really necessary.
The Empire's Corps: Book 07 - Reality Check Page 20