The GATE opening was disconcerting because it was a near duplicate of the GATE they’d just stepped through, but on close inspection he could make out small differences in construction.
A few simple tables were waiting across the floor of the barnlike structure. Small computer consoles rested on the tables, and connecting cables were strewn haphazardly around wooden legs and metal power outlets. The figures seated at the tables were dressed simply. Not primitive, but hardly fashionable.
The nearest removed his feet from the monitor they’d been resting on and stood to greet them. He was quite tall and lanky, a good deal taller than Eric. His expression was good-natured, if momentarily confused.
“Hi. I’m Jeeter.” He jerked a thumb toward the colonists milling around the tables at the far end of the barn. Some of them might wonder what had happened to the rest of their group, but they were too involved in processing to inquire. They were, of course, completely ignorant of the events that had transpired at GATE Station subsequent to their own transportations, divorced from the news of the moment by time and many trillions of kilometers.
“I was beginning to think we were through for the day,” the tall man explained. He looked past them. “Are you two the last? Some of the newcomers said we should expect more.”
“There was a cutoff imposed,” Eric said thoughtfully. “We’re it for a while, I think.”
“Strange. Wonder why?”
“There’s been a little trouble, I think. I don’t know who or what is going to come through the GATE after us, but they might bring a pack of lies along with them. If you can take us to your local government representative or whoever’s in a position of authority, I’d like to explain.”
“Don’t worry yourselves. You just got here. Actually, nothing that comes through the GATE could surprise me. One week we receive new colonists, the next week it’s unexpected supplies we can’t use. Have to constantly realign the GATE, you know. What sort of trouble were they having?”
Eric glanced down at Lisa, chewed at his lower lip as he tried to formulate a good reply. “Actually, we’re the trouble.”
“I thought it might be something like that. Easy to see you’re not wearing the usual green, and no duffles, either. As for explaining to someone in authority, you might as well talk to me. One of the first things you’ll notice here on Eden is that we’re a lot less formal about rankings and so forth than they are back on good ol’ Earth.
“I’m Assistant GATE Supervisor. Stupidvisor I call it, some times. Anything you want to tell the Council you might as well tell me.”
Eric was beginning to feel a lot better.
“Do you mind if we sit down?” Lisa asked him. “We’ve had a hectic few days.”
“Inconsiderate me. Come over to my station. I’m still on duty and I have to keep an eye out in case they do send anyone else through. Sometimes kids can emerge in pretty rough emotional shape.”
They followed him down a wide wooden ramp. Near the base, several men in coveralls were using electric lifts to shuffle and stack crates.
“That’s the last of last week’s supply shipment they’re rearranging," Jeeter informed them. “We don’t rush things on Eden. That’s something all newcomers have to adjust to.”
As they walked further into the building Eric had come to think of as the “barn,” he was startled by his first glimpse of the landscape. Long picture windows provided a spacious view of the terrain immediately outside. Tall evergreens dominated. They were thicker and bushier than their distant relatives on Earth. Barely visible in the distance were high, rugged mountains. Above the trees, several extremely rotund flying creatures were battling a strong headwind.
Covering everything—ground, trees, mountain peaks and bird-things—was a familiar but utterly unexpected mantle of snow.
“Something of a shock, isn’t it?” Jeeter was amused by their expressions, though his expression soured quickly. “There aren’t supposed to be blizzards in paradise. New arrivals are quick to remark on the discrepancy. It’s the first of many, I assure you. Eden’s habitable, but paradise it ain’t, and it’s a few millennia from getting there.” His reassuring smile returned.
“I’m always interested in the reactions of new colonists. You see, I was born here. I’m third-generation Edenite, and I never expected anything better. I wasn’t lied to, and I feel sympathy for everyone else who was. Some Earthies can’t handle it. They arrive expecting perfect weather, food dangling from the trees waiting to be picked, gentle streams that never flood.
“There actually are one or two places like that here on Eden, down on the equator. We’ve only just located them. Planetary exploration is dependent on local means of transportation, not to mention limited available manpower. Meanwhile we’re stuck here in the so-called temperate zone, tied to the GATE because moving it might break the link with Earth. Chances are good that it wouldn’t, but we’re not secure enough yet to take the risk, though some of us don’t care if we ever hear from Earth again, supplies or no supplies.
“Right now we’re working on a repulsion rail system that will take us to the Auraxis coast. But it’s far from perfect there, just better weather on balance.”
“What’s wrong with it?” Lisa asked.
“Seasonal hurricanes, occurring with a greater frequency than they do on the Gulf Coast of North America.”
“We’re from North America.”
“Good. Depending on what part, you’ll handle the transposition better than some. Every so often we get colonists from Imperial Russia, Scandinavia, and Canada. They don’t mind the climate here.”
Eric found a vacant chair, sat down. He was starting to relax a little. “So it’s all a lie, then, to induce valuable people to emigrate, to participate in the ‘lotteries’.?”
“Oh, we have our libraries and our little symphony and our discussion groups, but there isn’t much time to spare. Keeping warm and fed occupies everyone’s time. Psychological testing of colonists before they’re sent through pretty well eliminates the potential snobs. We do get a few once in a while, though, who claim they’re above physical labor.”
“What do you with them?”
“Not a damn thing. No work, no food. We’re very democratic here. No one’s starved yet, to my knowledge, but some people die before they should. There’s a lot of bitterness here. It festers, and eventually it kills." He shook his head. “This is not paradise. Not according to the descriptions I’ve read."
“I wonder if Garden is as bad?” Lisa murmured.
“We’ve no way of knowing, of course, since there’s no communication between the colonies any more than there is back to Earth. There’s not much we can do about it. We can’t build a plasma drive, and even if we could, the protesters would be dead before it reached Earth, let alone returned with a reply. It took the drone probe which discovered Eden a hundred and thirty years to make the round trip.” He shrugged.
“Like I said, I’m third generation. It doesn’t bother me as much as it does the newcomers.”
“But it still rankles?” Eric said.
“Sure. Nobody likes to be lied to, even before they’re born.” He shifted his position on the edge of the table. “Now what about you two? You said something about possible trouble?”
Eric took Lisa’s hand in his. Having arrived on a world founded and maintained by lies, it seemed only fair to tell the truth.
“We’re not your ordinary new colonists. We’re artisons. At least, Lisa is. I’m something else. Call me an artison-plus.”
“Oh, artificial persons.” Eric expected anything except Jeeter’s casual nonchalance. “We have a number of them here.”
Lisa gaped at him. “But I thought the colony worlds were only for specially picked humans.”
