“I understand the concept of digital currencies, but I’m a bit concerned about privacy issues,” one of our men spoke up, his thick, ginger eyebrows drawing together. It was Ulrik, Ryland’s father, who was probably the most widely read among us when it came to olden day technology. “Do the rings track us?”
Anna threw back her head and gave a hearty laugh. “Of course not! We are Fairwellian, not Orwellian!”
I frowned, not catching the latter reference, and glancing around me, it seemed like most others didn’t either. I returned my focus to the large woman as she continued.
“No, no. We have no interest in spying on you with these. Though, you do use the rings to check in after you cross the bridges and enter the barriers on the mainland, but that’s just so we have record of your approximate location, for security purposes.”
“And what about this ‘security’—what is your legal system here?” Jessie’s father spoke up.
“I’ll be handing out sheets later on with a list of rules for you to study,” she replied.
I suddenly remembered how we’d ended our conversation in the cockpit, during the journey to Fairwell.
“Ms. Springs.” I raised a hand. “You mentioned to me that most of the rules are common sense things that any decent human being would follow, but that there are also some things you do here a little differently. Can you highlight the main onesfor us now?”
“Ah, yes, of course. Thanks for reminding me, Ms. Lockwood.” She flashed me a grateful smile. “I would say the main one is that a minimum income level is required per family in order to maintain subordinates.”
A silence descended on the platform. It seemed it took several moments for us all to process her words.
“What do you mean bysubordinates?” Jessie’s mother asked. Several other mothers in the crowd simultaneously asked variations of the same question.
“Specifically, I mean members of your community between the ages of three and fifteen, who are of schooling age, and cannot legally work in Fairwell,” Anna replied matter-of-factly.
“What’s the minimum income level?”
“Why?”
More variations of the same questions shot out from the crowd.
“The minimum income level is 100,000 coins. If a family’s total wealth hits this, then they are deemed capable of maintaining their child to our required standard.”
My breath hitched, as the rest of my people echoed my alarm. 100,000 coins sounded like a lot. That was silver status.
“100,000 coins!”
“Per child?!”
“100,000 coins for a family’s first child, and there is a subsidy of 50,000 per child thereafter. I am afraid that is non-negotiable. Maintaining a child on Fairwell is expensive, you see, because our nurturing and education standards are very high. Children are the most valuable commodity our society can have, for they are the leaders of our future, and they must be invested in. So, if you wish to stay, your children will be taken in for temporary adoption by loving families with disposable income on the mainland, of gold or platinum status, until you can meet the costs yourselves.”
“But what if we cannot reach that income level?”
“How long would it take us?”
“What if our children disagree?”
Anna brought a hand up, rubbing the side of her temple. “One question at a time, please,” she said, a little tiredly. “For those of you who worry about meeting the cost—don’t underestimate yourselves! As I said, Fairwell is a land of equal opportunity. It may take some time, but if you deserve it, you will get there. I wasn’t kidding when I said we encouraged growth,” she added with a small wink, which made my throat tighten.
“The amount of time will depend on your smarts, dedication and ability,” she went on. “And, honestly, you people are talking like you’ll never see your kids again. They’ll be well looked after and you can visit them every Sunday to verify that for yourselves.
“Just think of it as sending your kids to an elite boarding school. They will be fed the best foods, dressed in the nicest clothes, and given an unrivaled education. They will have attentive, experienced guardians, and forge friendships with others their age. There will be an adjustment period, of course, but they will start enjoying themselves soon enough. This has been the system for many settlers before you, and it always works out for the best.”
There was an even longer pause than before, as everyone exchanged glances.
The idea of aboarding schoolwasn’t so bad, I supposed, if we could still see them, but once a week was hardly anything. And, thinking of Bea, my heart constricted with worry. She was so young, and however caring the host family was, they weren’therfamily. Plus, there were still so many unknowns. Anna had said they would be well cared for, but these were complete strangers. We had no idea who they were, what they were like,or what ideas they would want to instill in Bea. And what if she couldn’t adjust?
“Why can’t they attend school during the day and return home to sleep at night?” I asked.
Anna sighed, turning to look at me with a trace of disappointment in her eyes. “That would be not only impractical, but unfair to the families stepping forward to support your children on their own dime. Part of the reason these wealthy couples offer to take children in is the personal joy they receive from being able to have a hand in nurturing the children after hours, too. You would be depriving them of that, and it wouldn’t be a fair deal.”
