Robber Baron Read online

  "So you're saying you'd make a new law just to cover my unique situation? Why don't you just adopt me, until I turn eighteen? Can't you do that? Or maybe you don't want to..."

  "No, no, no. That's not what I meant at all, Philipp! I don't want you to think I am trying to run your life. A lot of people on all the planets could learn a lot from your example of independence, character, and hard work, even after the hand that life dealt you. I'm saying that if you don't want to answer to me - besides as governor - that's okay with me, we'll work something out. But if you do want my guardianship, you'll need to sell what you've got here, and come live with me. They're building a governor's 'mansion' right now. It'll be about twice the size of this house - four times the size of the apartment I've been living out of. It's just that as a public official - more public than before, you understand - I won't be able to have you living out here in the boonies while you're legally my son. People would think it was pretty strange, you know."

  "I guess I understand." I paused, looking around the house, trying to remember what it had been like with my parents. The eighteen months had washed my memory of them. I found I could barely remember their faces. "Will I be able to go to the same school?"

  "Sure. I can work that out. You see, the school district laws won't apply to you, since I'm not a permanent resident of the governor's mansion. In fact, I'll probably be able to arrange to have you driven to school every day. You won't have any chores, you'll have a holovision and vidphone of your own. I could probably manage to give you an allowance out of your trust. After your land sale, and eighteen months of accrued interest, you probably already have over 34,000 credits, or more than 45,000 newdollars." He looked thoughtful for a moment. "In fact, your interest alone would probably be more than enough to buy your clothes, or anything else you might want for a while."

  Later I did the calculations on it, and found that the interest alone was about cc85 a month, and growing every month. Four credits would buy a pretty decent shirt, and five credits would buy good pants. I could eat a full meal at a decent restaurant for three credits, or at a really expensive one for ten.

  "Can I get a job?"

  "I knew you'd ask that, boy," He managed to look both frustrated and proud at the same time. "I know you're a hard worker, but why can't you just be a teenager for a while? Do your homework, go to school, and enjoy the rest of your free time... The time will come soon enough when you'll have to work six or more days a week, and... Well, maybe not. You could live off your trust for a while." He rubbed his face. "I'll think about it, son."

  I knew he meant that "son" as a term of age, not of relationship, but that's when it was decided for me. It felt really good to be called "son," for the first time in a long time, kind of like it had felt really good when Destiny had called me "darling" or "baby" or "my man." I guess I needed to be wanted... or wanted to be needed.

  "Okay, Harry, It's a deal. You want me to wait on selling all this until you get that new house finished?"

  "That would be a good idea. I'll get the paperwork started on the adoption."

  *

  We were lucky about a lot of things on Persiphone, but one thing I didn't appreciate until later was the calendar. Persiphone revolved around Hollis in just over 364 Galactic Standard Days, and rotated on her axis in slightly less than twenty-four hours. The entire time I lived on the planet, our seasons fell just right, on the Galactic Calendar, gaining a day each year. I never really paid attention to this until I began to visit other planets, like Turner's Planet, whose year is 380 GS days long, and each day is 43 hours long. People who live forever on planets like that must get confused; one year, new year's day is in the summer, and the next year, new year's day is in autumn. I know that most planets use the Galactic Standard Calendar for dating documents, and running school years, but if you've ever moved from one planet to the next, it can get really confusing. Especially when all the space ships and space cities use only Galactic Standard time.

  It is conceivable that I could get on a ship on Persiphone in the afternoon, and find that it was early in the morning inside the ship. After traveling eight hours to Golian, it would be afternoon in the ship. I could then get out, and find that it was morning again on Golian. It could make for a really long day.

  Anyway, when school let out for winter break - a very mild winter that year - at the end of 2484, I sold all my animals; four cows, six pigs, twenty-two chickens, a rooster, and five turkeys. I sold them cheap, and got just over ccl00. Persiphone still used mostly the Colonial Credits, until the economy began to bring in enough newdollars. Or we could print our own newdollars, like Yurple and other planets had done. But Harry said when you do that, you never know how the money's value will hold. Yurple's dollars are worth slightly more than the standard newdollar, while Saivalaurie's were only worth half.

  I also took Destiny out to dinner in Tarkin - or, rather, she took me. I paid, but she drove, using that old lorry her father had bought. We just ate, and talked about everything that was going on in Tarkin, and around the planet, and in our individual lives.

  She thought it was really neat that I was going to be the Governor's son, and wondered why I wasn't so excited about it. I told her it really didn't matter, since it was only for three and a half years, or less, until I turned eighteen. Besides the fact that Harry had already been taking care of me for some time. Then she looked really worried.

  "Um, Philipp... What are you going to do with all our money?"

  I was silent for a moment. I hadn't even really thought about our hoard for several months. It had even been two months since the last time Destiny had come over to get some of hers. And I hadn't ever used any of mine.

  "You mean where will I hide it when I move to the Governor's Mansion? I'm sure I can find a place. It's not like we're going to have maids and butlers digging through everything. It's just a big house, with the governor's office in it, and a room where he can hold press conferences. I'll be doing my own cleaning."

  "But surely someone will see it. That's over two million credits! You can't just stuff it in your underwear drawer."

  I looked around to make sure no one else had heard her. Then I kept my voice low. "Maybe you could keep it somewhere, until we can get it exchanged for real money."

  She looked depressed, and very thoughtful. Finally, she turned those beautiful green eyes back to me. "Philipp. You know I'm in college now, and I'm working, and you're only fourteen.

  "Almost fifteen. What are you trying to say?" I started getting a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Then she said it.

  "I'm dating someone from school. Please don't get mad; I just didn't know how to tell you! Look, we have this big secret between us, and no one can take that away. And you're the only guy I've ever been with, and no one can take that away either, Philipp. It's just that, well... we never had any 'commitment' between us, did we?"

  I got the point. "You mean it would be embarrassing for a big college girl like yourself to be dating a 10th-grader, right?" I let the comers of my lips turn up, in what may have been my first sardonic smile. Outwardly, it looked like I had seen it coming, and I didn't seem too torn up by the whole thing. Inside, I was crumbling into tiny bits. I felt my stomach drop out from under me, and I wanted to throw up. I swallowed a few times, and held myself together. I don't know how, or why - at the time, I felt like there wasn't really a reason to go on living.

  She opened her mouth several times, then looked away, allowing a couple of tears to trickle out of her eyes. "Philipp," she said softly, "I'm sorry. It all happened so suddenly; I hadn't seen you for a couple of months, and I see this guy every day in class, and at parties on the weekends. He's nice, and has a car of his own, and he works at the airport..." She let her sentence trail off into silence.

  I laid a wad of cash on the table. "That should cover the meal. I'll find my own way home, and when you want your share of the 'stuff,' just come and get it." Then I lowered my voice into a deathly whisper, leaning over her,<
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  "And the next time you want to rob a bank, get your new boyfriend to help you."

  Destiny tried to stop me from leaving the restaurant, but I wouldn't stop. I walked right out, and headed down the street. She followed me on foot for a block or so - I was walking quickly, but I could hear her footsteps behind me. Then she got in her jalopy, and followed me almost all the way home. Finally, she realized I wasn't going to get in, or talk to her.

  My feelings were a storm of confusion. Obviously, I was hurt that Destiny had taken it upon herself to date someone besides me. But that wasn't the worst of it. I berated myself for not seeing it coming. I felt ashamed that I had been so naïve as to think she would always remain with me. I felt like an idiot for reacting the way I had, back at the restaurant. I cursed myself for thinking that Destiny was the one for me. I was mad that she hadn't told me sooner.

  I was also a little scared. I had heard that lovers share all their secrets - I knew that my parents had kept nothing from each other - and I wondered how long it would be before Destiny told her new boyfriend what we had done.

  *

  A week later, when I began moving my things into the new governor's mansion, I was still depressed. In my entire life, I had never written a poem, except when required to, in school, but in that one week, I had written four. One, I called "Languish", and it goes like this:

  Languish

  Straining, sweating,

  squinting, betting

  Shouldering the heavy

  load that is my

  conscience

  A prophet once said,

  "to whom much has been

  given, much will be

  required"

  And I languish under the

  import of those words

  Aching, crying,

  hurting, dying

  Wondering about the trash

  that is my life

  A prophet once said,

  "O my God, I cry out

  by day, but you do

  not answer"

  And I know what he was

  talking about"

  Slipping, sinking,

  failing, thinking

  Considering the frustration

  that is my fate

  A prophet once said,

  "everything is

  meaningless, a chasing

  after the wind; nothing...

  gained under the sun

  And I have found it to be true

  Spitting, lying,

  choking, dying

  Imploding from pressures

  that are imaginary

  A prophet once said,

  "It is appointed unto

  man once to die, and

  after that, the judgment"

  And I am waiting

  It is slightly humorous as I look back on those words, now, because I was only fourteen. Yet, I felt like there would never be another woman for me. I felt lost, as if I had no reason to live. As I packed my things to put into the moving truck, I did so in great melancholy.

  Harry had hired a truck to come out to my house, and the driver helped me carry the furniture into the back. I took dad's favorite chair, my parents' bed, two dressers, all my clothes, all my books, and the money.

  I left my bed, the kitchen furniture, the sofa, and all the rest, for whatever family would buy the house. I packed the money with my clothes, making those boxes a lot heavier, and a lot more numerous.

  The truck driver said, "Kid, you sure got a lot of stuff for a full time farmer. Where'd you get all these clothes and stuff?"

  "They pay you to ask a lot of questions, or to drive a truck?" I retorted in a surly voice.

  He shut up.

  *

  I was showing my house to a newly arrived family, a week or two later, when the reporter showed up. "Philipp Kaplan? Hold on there! Let me ask a few questions!"

  The man and woman on the front porch with me looked at the news van, then at me with raised eyebrows. "What's all this about?" the man asked. Surely, he had just wanted to look at the house, and perhaps make an offer. He hadn't wanted any distractions.

  "Don't know. But we'll find out." I stepped off the porch, and met the two reporters in the front yard. "What's this all about?" I quoted.

  The man holding the video camera kept quiet while the other man - the reporter - spoke up, too loudly and too clearly. "You've been living here by yourself since last spring?"

  "That's right. Is there a problem?"

  "Oh no! Mr. Kaplan, my name is Donny Miles, with PPNS? I think the people of our great planet would like to know how you've managed to get along here, by yourself."

  "What?"

  He lowered his voice a little, but it was still louder than normal. "You're a hero, Phil. As far as we know, you're the first colonist under the legal age to hold down land on your own. If this story does well, I'm going to be sending it to other planets as well. Now, when exactly did your parents die?"

  The woman behind me on the porch gasped. I hadn't told them how young I was or anything else about me. I just wanted to show them the house, and get it sold.

  I answered, my voice clear. "Look it up. The bus crashed into the meat market in Tarkin. I'm sure the police can answer that question."

  "Okay..." Miles looked down at his notepad. "And you've kept house here since then, without help? Cooking, cleaning, feeding the animals... Hey, where are the animals?"

  "I sold them last week. Like I'm trying to sell the house right now. If you don't mind."

  "Not at all! Do you mind if we come inside and take some holo-shots?"

  I looked up at the porch. The woman looked at her husband, and he shrugged at me.

  "Okay. Just don't get in our way."

  *

  The story was on the front page of the paper the next day, and on the evening holo-news. "Philipp Kaplan, a young boy struggling to survive by himself on a lonely colonist world, after his parents were savagely taken from him in a gory..."

  They made Harry out to be a hero too, since he had "extended his hand of mercy" to me, and taken me in. I guess I didn't mind so much, since that couple paid more than expected for the house. They got pretty excited about the story too, from hearing Donny Miles talk to the camera, with them in the background. I guess most people have never been on the news or on camera for any reason, for that matter. When a holovision camera points in their direction, they're not sure what to do.

  They paid in newdollars! For two acres of prime land, a house and a barn, I got 25,000nd. That went in my trust, making a total of 70,000nd. Harry said the bank had already converted the credits to newdollars in my account, so when I turned 18, I wouldn't have to worry about it. That meant I'd be getting 175nd in interest next month and a little more each month after that. More than I'd need for a long time.

  *

  When I finally had my stuff set up in my new bedroom in the mansion, Harry gave me my own phone! Not just my own extension in my bedroom, but my own portable phone. It would hold a full charge for a week, and completely recharge in about 4 hours, and from it, I could call any phone on the planet.

  That made me feel a little better, but I was still hurting. A few times, at the dinner table, Harry noticed that I was moping. Finally he asked me about it.

  "It's nothing," I replied, mechanically putting food into my mouth. Truthfully, I was wondering inside what was the point of eating, if there was no reason to live.

  "Don't give me that," Harry pushed. "I know a depressed face when I see one. Why can't you tell me? You think I wouldn't understand?"

  I was about to give him another automatic reply when I remembered something. Hadn't he told me that he'd been divorced twice? At a young age? Maybe he would understand after all.

  "Well, Harry, I guess you could say I've got 'girl trouble.' And it's taken the life out of me."

  "Ah." He took another bite with a thoughtful look on his face. After he swallowed, he said, "In my opinion, they're all trouble, but then I'm biased. What seems t
o be the problem?"

  I told him most of it - not about the money, of course! It started to sound pretty silly when I heard it come from my own mouth, and I said as much.

  "It can't be too silly," he said, "if it's been bothering you so much."

  I was waiting for him to feed me the normal platitudes that are supposed to make you feel better when you've been dumped, but then I remembered that he had a degree in psychodynamics. Harry was too smart to feed me a line of crap.

  He went on, "It sounds like you had some pretty strong feelings for this girl, and she didn't take that into account when she dumped you. It sounds like she was being selfish. On the other hand, though, you were being selfish too. You forgot that she has her own life and her own dreams. You just wanted her for yourself. I have found that most - if not all - relationships between the sexes end due to some kind of selfishness."