The first thing to indicate the new Siege had started was a change in the attitude of Earth-gov and many Earther journaloggers. Titan was no longer portrayed as purely glamorous and heroic, but as glamorous in a gangsterish sort of way. A prominent Canadian Earth Firster, B. Lindsay Ingreta, known to her detractors as the Big Lean Idiot, called this change “exposing the real Titan Colony”. After a year of that attitude adjustment, the Earth Parliament set up an Ad-Hoc Committee to Investigate Corruption in the Titan Colony Support Infrastructure.
The net result was a raising of prices and slowing down of shipment on everything headed from Earth to Titan. That hurt Titan, and the Titan Colony Board of Directors called the process “sanctions” in its next Annual Report. The “S-word” is considered ugly throughout the Solar System, and so using it got a lot of coverage that didn’t make many new friends on Earth, but the people of Titan were pretty hot under the collar about the slowdown and price-gouging. It was an in-your-face reminder that Titan Colony, even with all its development since the First Siege, was not entirely self-sufficient. Not that any other colony, or even Earth, was self-sufficient, either. There was, after all, a whole lot of Solar System trading going on, and tens of millions of jobs all over the system depended on it.
CEO Hountondji’s letter in the front of the report declared that while as a protest jumbo vole would be off the Executive Dining Room menu, Titan Colony’s hydroponics could be quickly ramped up so that “the caloric content of Titan residents’ diet will remain adequate”. This meant that no one was going to starve but affordable variety and taste appeal were going to be drastically reduced.
I got all this from checking the newsfeeds between classes at Hubble. But the significance of the side-effects hit home when Sherry sat down beside me for lunch one day about the middle of the season and said, “Did you hear that Myfanwy, Dong-Mei, and Tonoose are all leaving school the end of this term?”
“Given the news I’m not surprised about Myfanwy and Dong-Mei. I’ve heard them complaining about the cost all year. But why Tonoose? His folks are well off,” I said.
“The Sawayas are very well off. But all three of them are pissed about how Titaners are being treated here. Dong-Mei says she’s tired of Earth Firsters trying to make them feel like second class citizens. Myfanwy says she’s not learning anything all that relevant here, anyway, though I think she’s rationalizing. And Tonoose just growls, deeper than usual.”
“It’s a shame,” I said. “As an Earthman, and Dad’s son, I’m kind of embarrassed, actually. Dad might think like that, but he’d never be rude. And there are a lot of other Earthers besides me who don’t agree with Earth First at all.”
“There may be a lot, but not enough to keep the Earth Firsters from getting a lot of things their way on Earth, and stirring things up here. Yanci and I have been talking about leaving, too.”
“Really?” I said. In my heart I wanted to say a lot more, something like, “Don’t even think of leaving! We have such a good thing going here and I so love you!” But everything I could think of sounded terribly theatrical, like pre-space Italian opera. And besides, Sherry, Yanci, and I were already tight, and they knew what I thought and felt.
“Don’t worry,” she said, patting my arm. “Yet. But if things continue to get worse. … We should come up with some alternate plans.”
That night I did some research, and delivered it the next day when the Gang of Three met over lunch.
“Have either of you looked at what we should do if the sanctions get worse?” I asked.
“I spent all last evening drawing NJ interference diagrams,” Yanci replied. “You saw me, roomie!”
“I explicated the Northie/Southie rivalry-cum-partnership from a neo-feminist perspective,” Sherry declared, grinning.
“Well, I looked at the political and commercial impacts on Mars of Earth’s semi-embargo of Titan Colony trade, with the employment implications for two typical Titaners and a Terran sympathizer attending a Martian institute of higher learning,” I said, grinning back. “Or, translating from the dissertation title: Here’s what I’ve come up with on the current situation.
“The Mars government is trying to stay neutral on this issue for now. But their strategic planners are hoping that Mars can replace Earth as the conduit between Earther HX technophiles and the Outer Colonies.”
“Which means … what?” asked Yanci.
“It means that a lot of transshipping businesses are moving from Earth to Mars. It will be a boom industry on Mars for the next few years, at least. And when it’s finished Mars may become the biggest transshipper in the Solar System.”
“Really?” said Sherry.
“It’s possible. Earth would stay ‘the mother planet of humanity’, but it would no longer be the ‘queen planet of the Solar System’.” I winced as I found myself using air-quotes. “So I say we don’t need an alternate plan. We get our degrees and watch what develops while staying here on Mars. Hiring in every field, including our fields, should be very good here while the crisis unfolds.”
* * *
That first season at Hubble, Sherry, Yanci, and I watched the university divide over Titan’s HX starship, named the HX Chaser, and Earth’s “trade velocity adjustment”, as the Minister of Off-Planet Relations diplomatically phrased it. It was not pretty.
Over beers in the Barsoom Rathskeller, Yanci announced, “I’ve been thinking hard about this. I’ve decided: I’m going on the starship.”
“You’re what?” said Sherry and I. But in reality, it was a small surprise. Yanci loved being on the edge.
“I’m applying. My major in applied HX technology is a beautiful fit. They should be finished with the Chaser just about the time I get my degree.”
He was right, but that would split us. I was in history with a concentration on technological impacts, and Sherry was majoring in colonial sociology. Up until that announcement, the Stay on Mars plan had seemed solid.
“They’ll be lucky to have you, big brother,” said Sherry. I nodded and punched his arm.
“You two should come too, of course,” Yanci declared.
“Why should we do that?” Sherry asked.
“For the adventure, for the riches, for advancing humanity, of course!” Yanci smiled a big smile, but he meant every word. It was Sherry’s turn to nod her head.
“Yanci, you know what Dad would think of that for me,” I said.
He frowned a bit. “Yeah, the kicker is my father agrees with your father on this one.”
“Your Pop doesn’t want you to go?” I half fell out of my chair.
“He doesn’t. I was surprised too, Joe. But when I told him what I was thinking, he gave me a heart-to-heart about continuing the family line. When I talked about Sherry coming along, Pop got kinda red. ‘Both of you, on the same ship? Have you lost your mind?’ he said.”
“‘So? It’s family tradition,’ I said. ‘Look at Grandpop and Tia Luiza mining on Oberon!’ But it was clear he’d stopped listening.”
“Wow,” I said, and emptied my beer. “And you’re going to do this, anyway?”
Yanci looked at me. “Yeah. As much as I respect Pop, this is my choice. And … it’s really what I’ve lived for all my life. I can’t turn this down.”
“It’s what we’ve both lived for,” said Sherry. “We’re Titaners. We live to advance humanity.”
“And what, Earthers don’t?” I retorted.
Sherry looked at me. “Not in the same way, I guess.”
“Hey! That’s not fair! There are plenty of Earthers who want more for humanity. Are you thinking I don’t want to go with you? Don’t be crazy, darling. Yanci, spritz me a copy of the application!”
The Be Part of the Mars Boom plan ended just like that, with my judgment mildly impaired by three beers and grossly impaired by my feelings for Yanci and especially Sherry.
I think even at the time I knew we were being a bit imprudent giving that plan up. I sure know it now. We were abandoning Mars’ Third Golden Age! And with 20-20 hindsight, I think the three of us had a 50-50 chance of ending up billionaires. But that’s what being young is all about: Going where the older and wiser fear to tread. Which in those days was the Chaser.