Confused murmuring swept through the gathering, as it became clear many had not yet heard the history of the islands’ appearance.
That smug smile I had seen on Anna’s face in the cockpit returned, while she filled everyone in on what she had told me during the journey here. And as I watched her, I once again became aware of that dull poke in my stomach.
But I pushed it aside, needing to focus on her words as she came to an end of the information that I already knew and began to broach new topics.
“Now,” she went on, after she had fielded several questions—similar to the ones I’d had—regarding the island’s history. “Obviously, Fairwell is several hundred years old, so it would take a long time to tell you the full history. If you stay, then I’m sure you’ll pick up on the details with time. But, for now, I would like to move on to more immediate matters. I understand you’re eager to find your feet again, somewhere more comfortable and permanent than this building.”
Murmurs of agreement filled the platform.
“Good.” Anna nodded. “Then, the question that must be going through your minds is: what does becoming a Fairlander involve? What will be your day-to-day activities? How will you live and maintain yourselves? What will your future look like? Am I right?”
She paused, waiting for everyone to nod, before continuing. “The process is as follows: After we’ve run through some housekeeping details in this presentation tonight, assuming you’re all in agreement, each of you will be asked to sign a form, wherein you will formally declare that you are taking upresidency of our nation and agree to follow its rules and regulations.”
“What are your rules and regulations?” a man from the back interrupted tensely—one of our colony’s hunters, Peter.
“We will get to that,” Anna replied patiently. “Please allow me to finish before asking further questions, or I will lose my train of thought.”
She cleared her throat and clicked the black box, causing a different image to flash up on the screen. It was a view of one of the artificial islands, whose square uniform bungalows and two-story buildings looked brand new, the streets empty and devoid of signs of life.
“Once you’ve signed the agreement,” she went on, “you’ll be transported to one of our newest islands, just recently completed, and currently completely empty. You’ll have the privilege of being the first ever residents there!”
She gave us a beaming smile, as if hoping to infect us with her enthusiasm. Some faces in the crowd brightened a little, but most still looked more nervous than anything else.
“Each family will be given their own house, and if you are single, you will also have the option of receiving your very own appropriately sized home—or, if you prefer, you may share with other singles. You will be provided with immediate accommodation and basic amenities while you find your feet. A team of employment officers will visit each home over the coming days to discuss your skills and preferences and how you might fit in best with our society. We want everyone to feel they have a purpose here, that they are an important contribution to our nation, and it is the officers’ job to make your transfer into your various new roles as seamless as possible.”
She clicked her device again, bringing up a new image depicting a pile of rings, gunmetal gray in color. They had that same flat edge as Anna’s, though not the foreignlettering.
“Fairwell is a land of sharing and equal opportunity,” she announced. “We open our doors to outsiders and agree to share our prosperity with them, in exchange for whatever value they can offer us. And while all settlers must start from the bottom, you each have the potential to work your way up to the very highest rungs of this society—even to the post of a governor. Any one of you could find yourselves living it up in Founders’ Fortress, in a number of years. Founders’ Isle is typically reserved for founders, but there are certainly exceptions to that rule, if you prove your worth to our nation.” She caught my eye and winked. “Or, you may be content with living peacefully on our manmade islands. Either way, whatever your ambitions, there is a place for everyone here, with infinite scope for growth—and I must emphasize that we do strongly encourage growth. Which brings me to the topic of wealth, and these nifty little rings you see behind me.”
She pointed to the screen, drawing everyone’s eyes to the photograph.
“While it would be hideously narrow-minded to restrict the definition of wealth to monetary value—after all, there are so many intangible things that make our lives rich—we must find a practical way to determine the potential of a person, and reward and incentivize them as they grow within our society. And do remember: the more we grow and develop as a people, the more we can reach out to others—it’s truly a virtuous cycle.
“Thus, Fairwell runs on an electronic coin currency known as Fairtrade, and these rings are your personal devices for keeping track of your wealth and receiving payments from your employers. They also do convenient little things like tell the time,” she added with a wan smile.
She clicked the black box again and an image appeared showing a line of rings in shades of gunmetal gray, bronze,silver, gold, and… some other kind of pale grayish-white color. I noted only the latter three had the letter etchings.
“Gray rings are distributed to settlers like you who begin with zero coins in their accounts. Bronze rings will be awarded once an individual reaches 10,000 coins. Silver, 100,000. Gold, 1,000,000. Platinum, 10,000,000. Silver status is the minimum required to inhabit Founders’ Isle.”
“Whoa. That’s a big jump,” Robert muttered.
I nodded, my eyes moving to Anna’s golden ring. She was already a “millionaire”, apparently. And yet, she was still doing work like this?
Maybe I ought to think it comforting that even the wealthier of this nation didn’t just sit up in their almost-literal ivory tower but were actively on the ground getting their hands dirty, even putting their lives in danger.
“Fairtrade will also be your means of procuring food and other amenities. Anything you require can be purchased with coins. And, unlike the societies of old, there are no taxes here. Every single coin you earn builds on your personal wealth and progresses your life to higher levels of comfort and achievement.
“And now, any questions on anything I have said so far?” she asked. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but you’ll find everything is fairly straightforward once you get rolling.”
“What exactly are these coins?” my uncle spoke up.
“A digital currency,” she replied.
“But what does thatmean, exactly? It’s just like… numbers on a screen? What does it represent?”
She laughed. “The backend of Fairtrade is rather complex—certainly too complex to cover in one evening. If you’re curious, I can point you to some literature on the subject. But for now, suffice it to say that, yes, the coins are intangible, but we all trust in them so the system works, similar to olden daycurrencies. We have been using it ever since Fairwell’s founding. Fairtrade’s backbone is a chamber of buzzing computers located within Founders’ Fortress, and, as you check out of work each day, your personal account will be credited, the total on your e-ring automatically updated.”
E-rings. So that’s what they called them.
