Becoming Chosen
Chapter Twenty-Five

Why not take the Captaincy myself? That’s an easy one. I, and several others, have been the driving force of this project for decades. But none of us will be officers. It would be too easy to set a precedent for hereditary leadership. It would instantly split the crew, both Technical and Agricultural into an over-class and under-class. History shows this is an unstable and unsustainable cultural construct. There is no chance it would survive six hundred years of travel, and the resulting upheaval could kill the entire ship. Call me an egalitarian, but I believe leadership can come from anywhere. Leaders rise to meet the challenge of their generation. We do ourselves a grave disservice if we don’t allow for the natural development of leaders.

Foster Delhim, Excerpt from an interview with Outer-System News Service, Sealed Archives

Time had run both too fast and too slow over the past two weeks. There seemed to be a million things to do each day. They were being achieved but, it seemed to Ronan that they all took too long.

The Chosen lived at a different speed than the Tech. Something about the environment, Ronan supposed, gave them a leisurely attitude towards finishing things. Though, to be fair, they always worked very conscientiously at whatever they did.

Part of the problem was the constant need to convince the older Chosen of not only the danger they were in, but the truth of their lives. It was like building a pyramid of blocks, only starting at the top. Convince one person, then they bring two to hear the news, then they bring four and so on. Thank the Builders for Miri, because Ronan knew in his heart he would not have been able to do it.

The change in his friend was startling. She had always been gregarious, with an easy smile that charmed most who met her. But there had been a sense of hesitancy, a certain lack of confidence in her. That was gone now.

Ronan had been shattered by the murder of his Uncle. It had felt like he was wrapped in sound-deadening cloth. The only thing that had motivated him at all was getting Miri back to her home.

Facing the same kind of loss had turned Miri into a persuasion machine. She was focused on a single goal. It seemed she could endure anything, as long as progress was being made. She’d treat objections she had heard a hundred times as if they were brand new. She let those she spoke to have time to come to grips with what they were told without getting frustrated or bored. But always with an implacable insistence.

Some of the adults accepted the Chosen’s place in the ship right away, while others looked for any excuse to deny it. Either way, Miri was there and stuck with them until there were no possible objections or evasions. Slowly, but surely, Miri had built up a growing crowd of people who looked to her for direction.

Those around her never saw the doubt, or the fear Miri kept hidden. That job fell to Ronan. When she faltered, he was the one to tell her how amazing she was. The one to give her an objective view of how much she’d accomplished. It was a job he was willing to do for the rest of his life. When he thought about it, she remined him of Chief Jager or Lt. Husted or Chief Anderson. And all the other officers who seemed born to their job.

Now they had finally reached a critical mass of people in Habmo2. Over the last two days, they had been going to the other habmo’s, bringing word of an important meeting. The invitees were all gathered a Meeting House of blond wood.

Now they were here, the ones Miri and Anna thought were the most influential Chosen. A mostly even mix of men and women. Almost without exception they wore the patch of the Most Righteous somewhere on their clothes.

Looking at them milling around in the multi-colored light of the stained-glass images of the Gods of Earth, Ronan was concerned they had made a mistake. These were the truest of the true believers. Would they accept the knowledge their religion was just a tool to help them found a colony? Or would they just shout Miri down and doom the whole ship to Nesbit’s future?

There had been a few of the Tech who worked in the Town who wanted to desert to the Chosen. The news that Nesbit intended not to build the colony, but rather keep things as they have been for so long had prompted them. Miri had begged them to return to their posts. They were her only source of news from the Tech, and she didn’t want to let Nesbit know they were aware of his plans. At least not yet.

Ronan walked up to Anna, who was manning the door.

“Is everyone here?”

She looked down to the list she had made. “Almost. Let’s give it five more minutes, then we can start. Why don’t you go outside and collect Miri?”

“Will do,” Ronan told her and walked outside. He grinned a lopsided grin. A Tech would have thought she meant going on the surface. Here in the habmo’s outside was more of a relative thing.

He walked along the main street of the village. Since the primary product of the habmo was wood, all the workshops there were dedicated to lumber milling, charcoal and paper making. It was at the field where stacks of wood were turned into charcoal he found Miri.

She was standing close to where a couple of younger Chosen were preparing to light a new cone of raw wood. Miri turned as he walked up and gave him a smile.

“Are they ready for me?”

“In a few minutes,” Ronan told her. The boy of the pair stuck some sparks from his hands onto a pile of sawdust which promptly smoldered then burst into flame. Ronan took an involuntary step back.

“Why are you always so nervous about fire?” Miri asked, with a genuinely perplexed smile.

“You mean the Ship Killer?”

“Ship Killer? Is that like the Breath Sucker?”

“Yes, only worse.” Ronan closed his eyes and recited, “Flickering light, Heat and Smoke, the Ship Killer is woke! Sound the alarm, gather you mates, flee, flee while the Ship faces its fate! In the halls, something may done, in the walls, the Ship Killer has won.”

“Gods of Earth! They teach that to little kids?” Miri asked, horrified.

Ronan nodded and opened his eyes. “Yes. It’s one of the earliest rhymes we learn. I know it is not a big deal, here in the habmo’s. But you have the space for it. Where the Tech live, there is no space that can survive an uncontrolled fire. Did you think the Tech didn’t come here just because you have ridiculously tall ceilings?”

“I guess I never thought of it. When you put it that way, it is probably a good thing to teach kids. But do they have to make it so, so nasty?”

“Yes. It scared the pants off me as a child, but now I see why we do it that way. We’re taught that even before the ship left Earth, the biggest fear of those who lived in space was fire. It eats oxygen, it produces smoke you can’t breath and it burns or melts materials. So, it’s worth a few nightmares among the little ones, if it prevents a disaster for everyone.”

“You mean a disaster like what might happen at this meetin’?” Miri asked, suddenly serious.

“You worry too much. Has anyone you’ve talked to failed to accept what you tell them?”

“No, but there is always a first time.”

“Say true, Miri, what worries you?” Ronan asked.

“These are the Most Righteous. They are the most respected and at the same time least flexible of the Chosen. If they act like the Elders, this is all over.” She paused. “Say true? We’re turning you into a fair Chosen, aren’t we?”

“Aye, you most certainly are,” Ronan agreed with a smile. “And if you can turn one ‘o the heathen Town folk, why girl you can do anythin’.” He dropped his attempt at an accent. “Even convince a bunch of oldsters that they need to get off their asses for the good of the ship.”

Miri took a deep breath, let it out and put on what Ronan was coming to think of as her “convincing” face.

“Then let’s go and do exactly that.”

Miri stood before the assembly. She could feel their eyes on her. She could almost imagine what they were thinking. Who is this girl that called for a secret meeting? She could feel her knees weakening. Gran, Captain Collings, Elder Haussmann, Elder Costello, they can’t be here, but I am. I have to be strong for them. Have to act in their name.

She had stumbled upon this ritual when she started her quest. Every time she thought she couldn’t do it, she would remind herself of them. It was like dunking her head in a barrel of cold water. It brought everything in focus. It made her go on.

“My name is Miri Blaylock, and I am from Habmo3. I thank you for comin’ today. Chosen, there are things happenin’ which endanger our job from the Gods of Earth.”

That had their attention. She could even see Uncle Fergus, near the back looking at her. “It’s somethin’ I found when I was among the Town people. They call themselves the Tech. It is somethin’ they don’t want us to know. But I have faith in my people.”

“Why should we care about trouble from the Town?” grumbled a fat older man in the middle of the crowd.

“Because it was the Town folk, at least some of them, that killed the Elders.”

It was as if they had all been struck dumb. Miri and Anna had argued often about keeping the fate of the Elders as quite as possible. Anna wanted to have the Chosen rise up right away, but Miri had convinced her to wait so she could have this very moment.

“Yes, you heard me. The Elders are dead, all of them. Includin’ my grandmother. But this is not the biggest problem.”

“And what problem is that?” asked a woman in the front wearing clothes that marked her out as a Niner.

“I will tell you. But first there is somethin’ you all need to hear.” Miri held up the Book of Elders. “This was my Grans. She left it with me before she went to the Town for the last time. This will only take a moment, so, if you please, no questions until it’s done.”

Miri pushed the button to start the first entry. The voice from the past spoke “Hello, my name is Foster Delhim. Like you I am one of the Chosen, and an Elder. You have been given this book because you are the oldest person in your Habitat Module. I am making the first entry because as the leader of the project that became our little world, it is my job to explain a few things you have not been told.”

Miri hadn’t known what to expect when she played this. She remembered how it had affected her, but she was far younger than anyone in the room. Silence blanketed the room, until the message ended.

Then there was pandemonium.

It seemed like everyone was on their feet and talking at the top of their lungs all at once. There were cries of disbelief, shouts of joy and everything in-between. It got louder and louder, until Anna cut through it all with one of those shockingly loud whistles.

“Quiet! Quiet Most Righteous! Are we children who shout to be heard, or are we an example to the Chosen?” she shouted in to the shocked silence. It worked. There were many red faces as each of them realized how poorly they were acting. Though truth to be told, Miri could hardly blame them. “Now, if you would all sit, Miri will answer your questions, and tell you the rest. But one at a time, like we were all taught as children.”

Everyone sat, except for one man. Miri nodded to him.

“It’s a trick, say true! That tablet is a device from the Town. It could have anythin’ on it.”

Miri slowly shook her head. It was a trick Gran had used. It even worked for Miri. “No trick, Most Righteous?” she asked.

“Perdue,” the man supplied.

“No trick Most Righteous Perdue, and I can prove it.” Miri scrolled down to the last entry in the Book. “Of course, I give my consent. I give it for my son Fergus, my poor lost daughter Dorthey, and her lovin’ husband Otto, also lost. But mostly I give my consent for my granddaughter Miri. She has longed for a different life, and I pray to the Gods of Earth that she find it in her lifetime. Elder Anita Blaylock.”

Miri looked up from the book, into the eyes of Perdue. “These were the words of my Gran, Anita Blaylock.” Miri held out the book to him. “If you think I speak false, then see for yourself.”

There were a torrent of words Miri wanted to pour on the man, but she had learned that saying less gave less opportunity for mistakes. It was still a hard lesson to practice.

Something in her voice or her face must have convinced the man, because he shook his head and sat. Not convinced, not yet, but not denying either.

“I know this is hard to accept. It was hard for me, when I first learned it among the Tech. But it changes nothin’. Call them the Gods of Earth, call them the Builders, like the Tech do. It’s all the same. We were tasked with preservin’ the knowledge so it could be used on a new world. And you here have been the most resolute of us all.”

A little flattery never went down poorly.

“What you don’t know, is that we are very nearly at the end of our journey. In twenty cycles, we will be at our new home, and we will be ready to use that knowledge, on a new world. One bigger than we can possibly imagine. One where the sky is not the ground for someone else.”

There were thoughtful looks on about a third of the faces. Still there were those with crossed arms and stony expression. Too many.

“When I went to the Town, I met the leader of the Tech. Captain Collins, he was called. He told me the next part of the Gods plan. That the Town people, and the Chosen would no longer be separate, but would join together so we could colonize this new world. He asked me to be a bridge between peoples.”

A woman who looked old enough to be an Elder herself stood. “And where is this man, this Collins? Shouldn’t he be tellin’ us this?” She sat, to many murmurs of agreement.

“Sadly, he was killed by the man who took his place. Damon Nesbit is now the Captain. And this is the problem the Chosen face. Nesbit does not want to settle on the new world. He wants things to go on as they have.”

“And what’s wrong with that? Why change now?” a voice called out. There was more agreement. It made Miri’s blood boil.

“Oh, aye, what’s wrong with havin’ things as they are? Well, I’ll tell you Most Righteous, it’s wrong because it’s not what the Gods of Earth wanted. Are you ready to disobey their command?”

Now the man rose, and Miri was appalled to see that it was Uncle Fergus. How could he?

“Who are you, child, to talk about the command of the Gods? You, who never loved our way? You who ran away to the Town rather than live as one o’ the Chosen?”

Miri could feel tears starting to well in her eyes. They could all lose everything because of Fergus’s stupidity. Gran, Captain Collins, Elder Haussmann, Elder Costello. As she thought it she could almost feel them standing behind her. It gave her strength.

“Who am I? I am Miri Blaylock, daughter of Dorthey and Otto, and I am Chosen! Yes, I ran away. I went to live with people who didn’t follow the Gods of Earth. I saw many strange and new things. But what I learned most was this; I believe in the mission the Gods have set us!”

The fire in her voice, the absolute commitment of it washed over the crowd. It was even strong enough to bring a frown of doubt from Uncle Fergus. But Miri was not done, not by a far throw!

“Say true, Most Righteous Blaylock. Do you have the courage to follow the Gods will, even when it means change? Because if you don’t, or can’t, then you should tear that patch off your arm now!”

Miri heard a few gasps. Good, she was done being easy on them.

“All my life I have been told that bein’ Chosen is hard. That it is hard on purpose. And that the Gods of Earth chose us because they knew we could stand up to it. Now those same Gods will us to finish what they started six hundred cycles ago.” Miri took a breath, she couldn’t shout the rest at them.

“This new time will be hard. It will be strange. It will mean addin’ things to what we do, but never forgettin’ to preserve the knowledge we’ve been entrusted with. I did run away. Yes, but in doin’ so I learned somethin’. I learned I am truly Chosen. Always have been. And if my Gods ask me to do new and strange things as part of their plan, then I will, gladly. Will you?” She speared Uncle Fergus with her eyes, and for a miracle he dropped his gaze!

Miri swept the crowd with her gaze. “Will you? Will you stand by your convictions and your Gods, as the Chosen have always done?” She paused, and in a near whisper said, “As my Gran did?”

There was silence. Miri thought she had lost, then a tiny old man stood in the front. She held her breath.

“I’m Olsen Delhim, Chosen and Most Righteous in Habmo7. Many a time I have said how lax our youth are, how careless they are with the Path of the Gods. Today I look on this young woman and know I have been wrong. I name you Most Righteous. I will stand with you Miri Blaylock, and obey the commands of the Gods of Earth. No matter where they lead.” The old man nodded, and sat.

Miri couldn’t believe her ears. She was about to thank him when another person stood up. “I will stand with Miri and the Gods!” he cried. Then the whole hall was raising to their feet and calling out their support.

Now the tears fell, but Miri felt no need to stop or hide them. She stood there, smiling and crying. Oh Gran, they believe me! They won’t be crushed. For the first time in her life, Miri sent a sincere prayer of thanks to the Gods. That she knew they had only been people like her didn’t make a bit of difference.

Sᴇarch the FindNovel.net website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.