Chapter 39: Watering the Soil

That Monday, the ruling coalition of political parties held their first-ever press conference to announce that along with the first post-Battle general election, there would be a plebiscite calling for a change to the official dress of the colony of Arcturus. If the majority approved the plebiscite, Arcturus would become a naturist planet, like Spica. Wearing clothing outside the home would, as on Spica, be a civil offence calling for a fine. The only exceptions would be those situations where specific attire would be required for purposes of personal safety.

Across Arcturus that momentous day discussions similar to that of Mandy and her friends at the coffee house were being made at workplaces, markets, dining establishments and wherever else people gathered.

The plebiscite and General Colony Election were to be held on the Friday of the week following the coalition's announcement. If the Plebiscite was approved, then the planet would be nude by sun-up on the Monday following, giving everyone a weekend to prepare themselves. The Monday of the week before the plebiscite, Mandy and Bob took the tram across Arcturus City to their respective schools. Mandy was in Grade 11 at the Arcturus City Girls' Academy, whereas Bob was in the same grade at the Arcturus City Boys' Academy. Both had been shut down when the Battle happened, and both would re-open on the Monday following the Planetary Election – possibly with quite a change to the school uniform.

The school system in Arcturus consisted of local schools in the shires up to Grade 6. with smaller neighbourhood kindergartens feeding into the elementary schools. The Academies included an elementary school for those kids who either lived in Arcturus City or showed promise, and a colony-wide middle school for grades 7 through 9 and a high school for grades 10 through 12. Those whose families lived in Arcturus City were allowed to stay with them, but children from the shires were forced to live in dormitories.

College education was available to First Family sons, but not to Outsider sons and definitely not to any women. Under the First Families' religious outlook, girls were to marry right out of school and stay housewives for the rest of their lives. Any Outsider family who wanted their son or daughter to obtain a college education had to send them off-planet. Unfortunately, all college instructors had all been drawn from the First Families, and Arcturus College had been located in the destroyed section of the city centre. The college was out of business until it could be rebuilt from scratch.

As far as university went, even First Family sons had to go off-planet, as the size of the population was still not large enough to support such an institution of higher learning. That was why Ambassador Charles Whitman had gone to Earth for his law degree.

The newly-appointed Principal saw her star student immediately. The paint on the name on the Principal's office door, 'Mary Wilkinson', was still fresh. Prior to The Battle, Mary had been the head of the Mathematics and Sciences Department, a difficult position when you answered to religious fundamentalists of the type the First Families represented. Her predecessor in this office, along with almost half the Academy staff, had been First Family, and as a result Mary found that she had quite a few spots to fill. Mandy had connections thanks to her mother; if Mary could exploit those to fill the slots quickly, she would.

"And what can I do for you?" Mary enquired as they settled on plush reproduction bergère chairs over elegant cups of steaming hot tea and Scottish shortbread biscuits. The china tea set, based on a Victorian English design, was a favourite of Mary's deceased predecessor, who felt it set a useful sense of elegance for informal business meetings like this. Mary agreed with the sentiment, and had retained the tea set – she was unaware as to whether it was her predecessor's personal property or not, but it didn't matter much any more. None of her predecessor's family had survived to inherit anything.

"I'd like to address the girls who are still in dorm here about the plebiscite. I won't talk political parties, just the plebiscite. The electoral age of majority is fourteen, and we want to encourage them to vote."

"I can do that, I suppose. After all, you ARE acting President of the Senior High School Student Council."

Previous to The Battle, Mandy had been Vice-President; the girl who had been President was a daughter of a First Family. Like her parents, the Senior High School Student Council President hadn't survived the carnage. Mary's remark reminded Mandy that she now knew people who had died, and even though she hadn't gotten on with her predecessor due to the girl's arrogant witlessness, she was still shaken. Teens believe in their own immortality until confronted by the death of someone their own age.

Mandy took a breath to compose herself, nodded and continued, "Plus, I'd like to call the three Student Councils, the faculty leads and support staff representatives for a planning session on Wednesday, assuming we still have faculty leads."

Mary winced. Not only was the school still shy a principal for the middle school, but for all grade levels the senior teachers weren't terribly senior.

"Plus, I have a solution to your problem of finding replacement staff. Our Ambassador has advised the Government that he can get temporary replacement teachers, but warns they'll all be Spican so they'll be nude regardless of the plebiscite results. I don't know how you feel about nude instructors if the rest of us are wearing clothing."

"If we have to live with it, we will," Mary vowed. "After all, our medical services are all naturist, so patients have to learn to deal with being treated by nude doctors and nurses."

Mandy took the interruption with equanimity. "Just tell him what positions you need to fill, and they'll arrange for qualified teachers. There's a ship heading for here at Spica that can be here this weekend, if they know by Wednesday."

At the Arcturus City Academy for Boys, a similar conversation was being held between Bob Crittendon and the acting chancellor of his Academy, George Searles. Like Mary Wilkinson, George ordered his secretary to prepare a list of unfilled positions for immediate submission to Arcturus' ambassador to Spica, Charles Whitman.

As even more of the instructors of the Boys' Academy had been drawn from the First Families, his shortfall of teaching staff was even greater than that facing the Girls' Academy. His elementary school still boasted half its teachers, but only about three or four of the educators were left in each of the older schools.

The meeting room was located in the top floor of the four-storey building that housed the High School Division of the Girls' Academy. Three long tables sat in a U shape, with five armless tulip chairs a side. On the fourth side, a smaller table was set up with two tulip chairs with arms for the Academy's Chancellor and the President of the Senior High School's Student Council President. For this particular meeting, Mary had had a side table strategically relocated to the centre of the square.

Normally, the full Joint School Council consisted of one teacher representative, two student representatives (the president and vice-president of the Student Council), the principal and vice-principal of each division of the Academy, plus two support staff representatives. Empty chairs represented those who had been killed in The Battle and not yet replaced: three Student Council members, the Elementary School Division Principal, and two Vice-Principals. Still, there were three Student Council members, one for the Middle School and another for the Elementary School, plus Mandy, as well as one Vice-Principal and two Principals, Mary being both Principal of the High School and acting Chancellor of the entire three-school complex. Mandy looked at the empty chair she was about to set herself upon and briefly mourned. The granddaughter of the former Planetary Council Chairman had been an insufferable ass, but that didn't give the girl's mother the right to plant a bullet in her fluffy little brain.