Page 62 - Tales Apocalyptic and Dystopian
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High Tex and the Orbies
hundred or even a thousand. They brought along all their
psychological baggage, if nothing else. So there are factions, social
climbing, all the politics and jockeying for power that they treated as
sport down here. It slowly developed that one group, mainly from
the Southern states, did not like the mixture of gases constituting the
artificial atmosphere. They were opposed by ex-Northerners, who
used the issue as a rallying point. No real conflict can be permitted up
there, so this controversy simmered along at a low level for quite a
while. I saw where it could lead, and started preparing for it.”
“How?”
High Tex was rummaging through his desk, placing a few small
objects in an old canvas bag. “Process of elimination. I knew they
could not land anywhere near the only place the air might be close to
its original condition, the Rockies. And obviously they had no
objective technological solution—no computer simulation, no
scientific records, no bottled samples—or it would have been
resolved quickly. A third party was required, to eliminate bias. I saw
that they would need to bring someone up. But they couldn’t,
because they had no room to spare, and the attitude toward us on the
ground is very hostile. All I could do was wait for their death rate to
outpace their birthrate. That was inevitable: they are not really a very
fertile bunch of people. My patience was rewarded. The order came
down, and I was able to fill it.”
Ottley shook his head.
“High Tex, you are the greatest trader the world has ever known.
Too bad your deeds will not be recognized. I would not have begun
to imagine that a child in that condition, from that location, even
existed—much less that you could find him on short notice.”
The Provisioner finished packing and motioned toward the door.
“Let’s get started. At the risk of tarnishing my legend, I will tell
you, my good friend and partner, that I did not have to find the boy.
I had been grooming him almost from birth, keeping him in the
basement of this building, schooling him in the technical knowledge
and social graces he would need to pass their tests and fit in with the
Orbie way of life.”
Ottley blinked.
“Yes,” said High Tex, as he walked through the door with a firm
but heavy step, “Daniel is my son.”
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