17: Building the foundation

I was stung to see that many supported Hyde during his outburst, though I shouldn’t have been. Still, I believed my decision was right and focused on producing tangible results that would make the rest of the Cha side with me. With food (mostly fish, ugh) and security taken care of, I split my time between establishing our industrial district and a school.

Setting up the school turned out to be not as straightforward as I’d imagined. We didn’t just lack the teachers and infrastructure, but students’ time as well. The older children were performing crucial tasks they couldn't be spared from, from foraging to carrying construction material, which limited the time they could spend in school. Two hours a day would have to do.

Before classes could begin, I sent the older boys on an expedition along with the Hunters to get slates, which doubled as an early talent-scouting program for them. The younger ones made some wax tablets, but our supply of wax was limited, so they were reserved for administrators.

Once we had enough slates and chalk, we began teaching them numbers and the written language under the open sky. Five hundred children made a lot of noise, but luckily we had a large valley with plenty of open space for them to spread out.

Aprilia knew her numbers and letters, so I made her a teacher along with four elderly men who could no longer handle physical work, but could read and count.

Some older boys tried to be cheeky with her, which I was glad about, as it gave me an excuse to punish them with an hour of work on my special project. One boy, however, volunteered for it.

More than a little confused, I asked the gangly boy, “You want to do punishment work?”

He nodded emphatically, his unruly black hair shaking around.

“Why?” I couldn’t hide the incredulity in my voice.

“You're not just digging a random ditch, are you, my lord?” he asked confidently.

“No, but who told you that?” I narrowed my eyes.

The boy didn’t so much as flinch at the exaggerated suspicion on my face. Impressive.

“You told the boys you sent earlier that it was special. I want to know what it does.”

I looked at the curious boy, fourteen or fifteen years old.

“They say you've been making new things near Powerfall. I went to see what was happening there, but the guards shooed me away,” he added.

“What is your name, young man?”

“Aldren, my lord.”

Hmm. Proper “my lord,” not milord or m’lord.

“Well Aldren, that ditch is indeed special. It’s going to be a biogas plant, that will produce a flammable gas.”

“Flam…mable?” he cocked an eyebrow.

“It burns,” I explained. “Like wood. Only better.”

“How?”

I couldn’t help but smile at his inquisitiveness. If I was ever going to introduce vaccines and antibiotics to this world, I would need an army of smart and inquisitive people like him.

“Go dig that ditch, Aldren, and I will explain it all to you in detail later.” A healthy mind resided in a healthy body — and he could use some muscle on his thin frame. Looking over his body, I noticed him clenching his fists with a pained expression.

“What are you hiding?” I asked him.

“My lord?”

“Show me your hands.”

He hesitated, but seeing my unflinching gaze, relented. He opened them to reveal fresh welts, clearly from a recent caning. Hailing from a developing country, I had received a few ruler smacks myself, but even as a child I could see the futility of this approach to discipline. Still, we never got hit bad enough to leave marks behind.

“Who did this?”

“It’s nothing, I was just being a nuisa-”

“Who did this?” I repeated with a clear tone of authority.

“Master Daub.” He replied with resignation.

“Come,” I turned around and walked toward the clearing that was a classroom.

“I’ve already been punished!” he whined as he followed me.

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion.” I said angrily, then softened my tone, “I’m not going to beat you more.”

The air was full of bird song, but I was deaf to the world as I tried to master my anger. The old man, in his sixties, was taking a nap under a tree.

“Master Daub, a word please.” I called out to him.

He woke up with a start and seeing me, got up with some effort. “My lord,” he bowed slightly as he hobbled toward me.

“Would you please explain this,” I pointed to the welts on Aldren’s hands. He tried to hide them and I had to forcibly open his hand.

“The boy needed correction. A rod teaches quicker than words.”

“Correction for what? I just met him and he seems quite bright.”

“He is. He also disrupts the class by constantly asking questions.”

“And you think beating him until it leaves marks is the right solution?” I said, barely controlling my temper.

“He has to learn to respect his elders.”

“Beating makes them cower and hate you secretly, not respect. Not to mention it kills curiosity, the very opposite of what I want.”

“That’s how it’s always been done.”

“And that makes it right?” I fixed him with a stare. “The Cha were persecuted in Nanon, and they were persecuted before settling there. Should that keep happening as well?”

“That’s not the same thing!” he howled in indignation.

“It is in principle; just because something has been done for generations, doesn’t make it right by default.”

“So what’d you have me do? Let him keep disturbing the teaching of other children? I have a hundred students to teach, and he’s not the only troublemaker I have to deal with.”

His troubles were like a cold bucket on my anger. I controlled my breathing and spent some time considering his dilemma. “Your concerns are valid, Master, but I don’t agree with the solution. How good is he?” I pointed at the boy.

“He has the correct answer to almost every question.” He replied through clenched teeth.

“Anyone else in your class as bright as him?”

“No.”

“Master, extra-bright children have special needs, just like the unfortunately dim ones. I understand you don’t have enough time to devote some just for them, so I will take the boy off your hands, but the beatings have to stop.”

“How will I control the children, then?” he fixed me with a stare.

You have a mean glare, that should suffice. I didn’t say that out loud.

“Keep a list of the troublemakers. If they don’t respond to stern words, kick them out of the class for an hour. I’ll talk to them at the end of the week. But no beatings, especially not on those who just ask questions or get answers wrong. I want the children to be inquisitive, not deathly afraid of failure.”

“Why?” he asked, almost laughing.

“Because I want men who can think when arrows are falling on them, not freeze while waiting for orders. Cowed children turn into adults who can’t adapt to changes, and there are going to be a lot of changes here. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.” I said, pointing a finger up, alluding to my blessing. I was abusing the people’s trust in me, but if it got the children a better education, I would do it gladly.

His eyes widened in response. “Fine, but many of the troublemakers would gladly leave the class if I gave them the chance.”

I shrugged my shoulders in response. “Not everyone is meant to be a craftsman, administrator or military officer. If they don’t change their ways, I suppose they will end up being farmers and fishermen like most, except they will get swindled by the literate ones. Tell them that.”

Next, I went through the exercise in frustration that was convincing the other four teachers, including Aprilia, to not beat the children. Being cordial while they scowled at me was like pulling teeth, but I endured.

“You want us to raise unruly fools?” one of the older men with a bushy mustache thundered. “Why would they obey us if they knew no cane will answer their insolence?”

“They will obey because you will show them the benefits of listening and learning.” I said, clenching my hands. I understood the pull of tyranny in that moment, and the irony as well.

He huffed in response. Before he could respond, I put a hand out, “I know that only works on the well-behaved children. Throw the rest out of the class if they are unbearable and I will talk to them later.”

He still wasn’t convinced and left the meeting, grumbling how I was ruining the children. Another recruit for Hyde’s camp, I suppose. The rest grudgingly agreed to throw out those not interested in gaining an education. It wasn’t the best solution, but we had limited time and manpower.

I spent the next few days observing and talking with the older children to gauge their aptitude, and took the brightest children from each class under my wing. The two boys, Fennar and Tobin and two girls, Runa and Frida, were clearly bored with the pace of learning, just like Aldren.

Another teacher almost laughed when I chose them. “You want to spend your time teaching girls? What’s the point?”

“I need the smartest minds the Cha have to offer. I cannot afford to lose them just because they happen to be girls.”

“But they will be busy having children and taking care of them in a few years. All your effort will be wasted.”

“They will also be successful. Enough that they can hire others to take care of mundane parts of keeping a house. Truly sharp minds are irreplaceable, Master. I will not rob Chadom of what they can produce.”

He looked at me skeptically but let it slide.

Next came the troublemakers. Most of them were cowed by my presence alone and agreed to behave, but I could see in the eyes of some of the older boys they didn’t really mean it. They probably thought any form of negotiation was weakness, and needed a different approach.

I took a thick wooden cane lying nearby and snapped it with effortless ease, as if it were a twig. The sharp crack focused their attention on me like cats to a laser pointer.

“I am the strongest man in this valley, yet a horse could kill me with a kick as easily as it would any other man. If horses are so much stronger than us humans, why don’t they rule us?”

Their panicked faces remained mute.

“It’s because they are dumb. They can’t think beyond their immediate needs; food, water, sleep, mating.” I counted on my fingers. “Nor can a five year old child, for that matter. That’s why he has to be taught. Strength doesn’t lie just in your muscles, but here as well.” I pointed to my head. “If you want to get truly strong, you must strengthen your mind as well as your body. Not everyone of you will succeed, but you won’t know whether you can if you don’t try. Are you willing?”

I got some nervous nods in exchange. If this didn’t work, I would pawn the task to the Hunters.

I was glad to see at least some of the children show some aptitude for craftsmanship. Their education would be focused on numbers, arithmetic and trigonometry, followed by apprenticeship. Most, however, were going to be fishermen and farmers and would graduate once they could read, count, add and subtract a bit.

As much as I wanted to let each and everyone of them explore their potential to the fullest, we just didn’t have the luxury of surplus food and other essentials to spend time that way.

The grim reality of our situation brought my mood down, so I turned my focus on what always lifted it up, planning the city that Cradle would one day become. My five new pupils followed me everywhere like ducklings. I felt like an ancient philosopher, asking them questions to get them to figure out answers to their own questions. And there were a lot of questions. So many that they managed to irk even me. I had them work on the very first foundation to shut them up for a while.

And so we built our foundation, not just with stone and timber, but with minds that might one day understand what we were truly doing.

When I saw Aldren’s hands grip the spade, blistered but unflinching, I knew we were building more than walls and roads.

We were building the future.