Charlene “Charlie” Wallace drew up her shoulders so she could slip the broad band of her thermo regulation suit up around her mouth, seeking its warmth against her cold face. The chill brought to mind her childhood in Minnesota, where the winter air had been so cold that she would burrow into her scarf in the hopes that her breath in the fabric would warm her face.
Of course, the lower colonist levels of the ship wouldn’t warrant much heating, in the minds of the representatives of Darvel Exploratory. Everyone was provided bare necessities for survival, which meant that if anyone wanted to be warm, one always had a small portable heating unit in their quarters. That was considered adequate for the lower levels.
It didn’t surprise Charlie. Darvel Exploratory was known for cutting corners. Though it would never have been permitted among the decks provided for the citizens, or even the tightly rationed military class, they skimped on the lower decks as long as it was “humane.” Funny how the definition seemed to be flexible, depending on which people were being discussed.
She had no doubt that the upper deck people wouldn’t find it humane if they were forced to suffer from the cold, day in and out, in their regular tasks. But it was fine for the grunts, the common workers who would be doing much of the labor for scouting the planet and breaking ground for establishing colonies. No one gave a fuck about them as long as no one keeled over from bad conditions.
No surprise there. As “enlightened” as human civilization had become—cleaning up the environment, restoring the wilderness, and joining into one united federated government body that eliminated all necessity for war—there was one problem that could not be escaped. One problem that soiled the perfect view of paradise. Equality did not exist, and could not exist with such a massive population, or so Earth’s united government had deemed.
There simply weren’t enough resources for the population booms that had followed the global plagues that ultimately united their world. The Global Federation dealt with it by creating the citizenship program, which offered benefits and provided reasonable comforts to anyone who had been able to buy or “earn” their way in, whether through prestige or service, or being chosen by the lottery. A citizen had social mobility and could reach for the stars.
To not have it… Well, that spoke for itself.
In Charlie’s opinion, the program was a fucking joke—and not the laugh out loud kind, but the kind that made her want to curl up and cry some days because of how unfair it was.
Not that any of Earth’s allies ever saw it. The program made Earth look like a paradise of equals to the other races who shared the galaxy, and the nearest neighboring ones where species had established contact. No one but humanity knew the truth, and the human isolation laws on human colonies and on Earth reinforced this perception.
The one-time lottery had been considered a “fair and impartial” way to determine who, among the masses in every region, would be allowed into the citizenry. Charlie doubted that her great-grandparents saw it that way. Citizenship provided comforts and allowed potential mobility through the higher social tiers. Those who didn’t make it were slapped with the label “non-gratas” and separated socially and economically from the citizens.
Anyone who didn’t win citizenship in the lottery and who was born non-gratas in the generations following the event were told to take a number and hope for a chance at recruitment into the military. The slots were limited, and entrance was difficult to obtain unless there was a new colony being established with the intent of colonization and harvesting of resources from planets capable of sustaining human life.
Many non-gratas, including Charlie, considered recruitment buy-ins a slap in the face. It was bad enough that the non-gratas lived their lives under constant restriction, their possessions provided by a government assembly who decided what was a necessity. That the only way to earn any sort of freedom enjoyed by the others was to put their lives on the line for a five-year term, after which they would be rewarded with full benefits of citizenship, was bullshit. There were those so against recruitment that they considered the acceptance of such an offer to be a sellout.
Charlie didn’t blame those who accepted the few recruitment offers doled out. Everyone wanted a better life in the end. The idea of it still left a bitter taste in her