Contributions: Mail between Botany Bay and Earth/Luna takes four to eight months, round-tripÄnot bad for a hundred and forty light-years. (I once heard a tourist lady ask why didn’t we use radio mail?) Gloria paid my contribution to the colony with all possible speed and was lavish in setting me up with capitalÄBoss’s will gave her leeway. She didn’t send gold here; these were bookkeeping entries in the colony’s account in Luna City, under which farm implements or anything can be shipped to Botany Bay.
But Pete had little on Earth to draw on and Tilly, a quasi-slave, had nothing. I still had a piece left of that lottery windfall and all of my final paycheck and even a few shares of stock. This got my fellow jumpers out of hockÄour colony never turns back a jumper but it may take him years to pay his share in the colony.
They both fussed. I fussed right back and worse. Not only is it all in the family but without the help of both Percival and Matilda I almost certainly would have been caught, then wound up on The RealmÄdead. But they still insisted on paying me.
We compromised. Their payments and some from the rest of us started the Asa Hunter Bread-Upon-the-Waters Revolving Fund, used to help jumpers or any new chum.
I no longer think about my odd and sometime shameful origin. “It takes a human mother to bear a human baby.” Georges told me that long ago. It’s true and I have Wendy to prove it. I’m human and I belong!
I think that’s all anybody wants. To belong. To be “people.”
My word, do I belong! Last week I was trying to figure out why I was so short on time. I’m secretary of the Town Council. I’m program chairman of the Parents-Teacher Association. I’m troop mistress of the New Toowoomba Girl Scouts. I’m a past president of the Garden Club, and I’m on the planning committee of the community college we’re starting. Yes, I belong.
It’s a warm and happy feeling.