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"For years! They only announced it ten days ago!"
"By learning how to do for ourselves. We use bicycles instead of a car;
we raise most of our own food here on the farm; we burn wood
instead of using oil heat; and we have a solar water heater. I'm going
to put up a windmill when I can scrounge the materials; then we'll be
almost entirely free of commercial power."
"All those things are to save money," Scot objected. "Lots of people do
them."
"True but they'll work just as well on a wilderness world. Probably
better. We plan to emigrate ourselves, as soon as we can wrap up our
affairs here. Maybe next year."
Scot stared at Tully's neck. "You really mean it? I thought you were
the down-to-Earth one in the family."
"Why not? Think we want to raise our children on super-refined
foods, in a polluted environment?"
There was the health fanaticism again. Scot turned that subject aside.
"But their schooling "
Tully laughed shortly. "Fifty kids in a classroom built for thirty? You
call that education? Even their up-to-date texts are way outdated in
attitude. Do you know they still distribute General Mills propaganda
directly through the classrooms?" His voice went into a high mimicry:
"Sugar-cereal is good for children, and especially for their dentists!"
He hawked and spat, literally. "Better to get 'em out in the wide open
wilderness, learn about nature. Better for all of us."
"Except for General Mills and the dentists."20
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This time Tully's laugh was wholehearted. "Let 'em eat sugar! No,
we're going!"
Scot could have asked for no better recommendation yet now he
hung back. "How do you know it's legitimate? That there really are
good planets out there? That volunteers aren't just being duped,
maybe dumped in radioactive mines or sold into slavery?"
"We don't. The first parties will have to go on trust. But they'll win the
best territory on the best worlds, if they win their gamble. They'll send
messages back; that won't cost much, comparatively. In fact, I'll bet
the government provides free postage, as a publicity mechanism.
Nothing like a satisfied customer."
"What's to stop the government from faking the messages? Making
Hellhole IV sound like Paradise III?"
Tully sobered. "There is that. We both know our government is
corrupt enough to do that. Any government is." He pondered a
moment. "Tell you what: if you're uncertain and I don't blame you
one bit I'll send you word. Some key only you and I know. Maybe a
nonsense word from our childhood code: FREB if it's good, DOLP if
it's bad, no matter what the rest of the message says. The message
may be censored on the way but if it doesn't contain one of those
words, you'll know it's fake. How's that?"
"That's great!" Scot agreed. His older brother had always had a ready
way with problems.
They were cruising through a factory area. The smog was worse here,
and unkempt men loitered. Three young punks moved out across the
road in front of the bike as though to cut it off. Scot quailed but he
saw Tully's shoulders hunch, the muscle bunching, and knew his
brother was staring the pedestrians down.
And the three gave way. Scot could never have bluffed them down
like that but Tully was no bluffer. His fists, on the few occasions he
used them, were like sledgehammers.
Suppose I had been alone? Scot thought. And dared not answer
himself.
The trip only took an hour, thanks to Tully's indefatigable pedaling.
Maybe there was something to be said for the healthy life; if anybody
was ready for the wilderness, it was Tully!
"You go on in; Jan's expecting you," Tully said. "I've got to go fetch the
mail."21
Not even tired! Scot got off, and watched his brother pedal on down to
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his bike shed. Yet now Tully looked nervous. Why? Scot turned and
approached the house.
Janice met him at the door, her seven-year-old son Tyler peeking
from behind her skirt. "Come in, Scot; I know you're tired."
She was not even aware of her condescension. This was part of the
problem about being a freeloader. Scot changed the subject as he
entered: "I hear you're going to emigrate."
She made a noncommittal sound as she closed the door. The house
was unheated; they were economizing on their fuel, of course, even
though it was only free wood.22 Tully was right: they were already
halfway into the pioneer mode, right here on Earth.
"Let me heat some soup for you," Janice said.
"Don't waste power for that," Scot said, half-facetiously.
She brushed back her dark hair with a callused hand. Scot was
momentarily repelled: muscle and callus on a woman?23 And then he
thought: Is this what Fanny would look like, as a pioneer? "No
waste," she said. "We make bouillon with our hot water."
And the hot water was free, from their solar system. They really had it
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