Perhaps it was time to begin my own.
Luther and I sat across from each other at the table. Kirdre sat beside me. Ruby sat beside him. I had a plan. He was skeptical.
“Luther, you’ve got to bring more people in. With as few people as you have now, you’ll never manage much more than a subsistence economy. You, yourself told me that you need better schooling for your children, a hospital—”
“But what will we do when so many of them die?” he demanded. “We can’t just go killing off ninety-nine out of a hundred immigrants. That’s bound to become unpopular, fast.”
“Let’s say that enough people came in to make up a decent-sized town. A lot of the suicides are due to the monotony, the boredom. If they had enough people to associate with, then they would feel less isolated. As for the tree killing them, surely someone can identify the trait that they would need to have in order to survive. If you filter out the ones who are at risk, then you’re not killing them off, right? Hell, with a little genetic work, they can probably fix the problem.”
“Still…” he grumbled.
“There’s no reason Messagie should not become more self-sufficient. You’re importing all your tools. That’s expensive. Find some ore. Start an iron mine. Make steel from the iron. Make saw blades from the steel. Cut adaman with the saw blades and make furniture from the adaman. Which reminds me… you’ve got to start sending out finished goods in addition to the raw lumber. You’re throwing away profit. Hell, that would provide employment for some of the immigrants right there.”
Luther’s eyes were narrowed, his mouth drawn. “And just how do you expect to get all this started?”
“I know the shed burned, but is there any cured wood left?”
“Some. ’Bout enough to build a house, I reckon. We tried something a few years back. Someone, Norm, in fact, wanted to try curing wood inside the tree. He had some damn fool idea that the color would be better if it cured out inside the tree. Last time I looked, it was about like all the rest, so I don’t think his idea was worth diddly. Also, we tried kiln drying the wood once upon a time. Now that definitely is not as good as air drying, but it’s a hell of a lot faster. Anyway, there’s some wood, and I can get you more.”
I nodded. “Good. Start with coffee tables and end tables, built so they’ll nest inside one another in order not to take up any more room than necessary. Then fill in any remaining spaces with candlestick holders, coasters, jewelry boxes, anything that will fit. That stuff brings a king’s ransom on Earth. If we can structure things such that any significant portion of the profit comes here, then you’ll be living a hell of a lot better than you are now.”
Ruby nodded. “Get in some concrete and build houses that won’t burn.”
“If someone would go out and look, I’ll bet we could find some limestone and make our own mortar. It’s not that hard to make. All you need is heat. Surely, we can do it here and save that money for something else.”
Luther wasn’t convinced yet, but Ruby was nodding. “I think he’s got something.”
“Hmmmph!” Luther grunted at her. “Lotsa fancy talk, but I’m not sure I want somebody from Earth telling me how to do things. Where the hell is he going to be when it’s time to get our hands dirty?”
“Right here,” I told him, tapping the tabletop with my fingertip.
And I meant it.
So what did Stephanie think of my decision?
I went back to Earth temporarily to set up a business to receive the adaman lumber and finished goods. That cut out nearly all of the middlemen Luther had been complaining about, so a great deal more money came in afterwards.
The finished goods were an instant hit. I placed an ad where it would do the most good—in Traveler of Worlds. Perfect targeting of our prospective customer base. We charged about ten percent less than the old distributors and made a killing since we had much, much less overhead.
Randall Barker had a decidedly strange look on his face when I handed in the story, my resignation, and the ad copy, all at the same time.
Stephanie, I swear, was hurt by my abrupt declaration that our relationship was over. Not that she would miss me. As I had suspected, she and Randall had started a mutual self-destruct society before I was past Lunar orbit. Her despair, I think, was due to the fact that I took the initiative, depriving her of the opportunity to jerk the rug out from under me. I think it was a first for her to have a man leave her. She was accustomed to leaving them instead.
I suppose it goes without saying that Kirdre and I set up housekeeping. What the odds were, I couldn’t say, but we had a bright-eyed baby boy who lived. Normal nine months pregnancy. I guess the placenta filters out whatever comes from the tree so as not to slow down the fetus’s growth. We plan to keep him away from daily contact with the tree until he’s in his teens, at least—God knows we don’t want the terrible twos to last for ten years. After that, he’s free to make up his own mind about when to start slowing down his aging process.
All in all, I think coming to Messagie was a good thing. It hasn’t been without its trials, but my life is so much better than it was on Earth. I have peace and quiet. I can build things; I’m in charge of the woodworking shop. And, of course, I’ve got my family.
You know, I’ve gotten so that I don’t even mind the cold. Not with Kirdre to keep me warm.