Chapter 22 - the Real Work

   Joe found the extremes quite ironic. First, he found what he took to be an idyllic advanced civilization. Paradise found. Then, he found the harsh skeletons in the closet. Their skeletons in their closet were no better but certainly no worse than his own race's. Paradise lost. But, the more he thought about it? It gave him hope. Paradise found again? No. But, paradise was possible at least. It was something.

   Because if they had come from as humble of beginnings as his own. If they had the same human nature inside of them. The best and the worst both. And they still found a way to rise from their ashes and become what they finally had? Well, there was hope there.

   Joe spent naturally a great deal of time learning about the equations he had discovered back home. Getting this now, was akin to the industrial revolution starting thousands of years before it had. Why start at the bottom, he had been invited to start at the top. Brack and his entourage liked his enthusiasm and his work ethic. His nervous, restless energy he half loved and half loathed depending upon how it got expressed. It was here a blessing. It always was, when he was hot on the trail of something.

   Brack took him aside one day, and confided in him. The hospital, the medical study of them. The genetic engineering they had.

   "Joe. I have bad news."

   "Yes?"

   "Your friend. Your pilot. Ben."

   "What about him."

   "He's very sick."

   Joe sighed.

   "I know."

   He explained how Ben wasn't suicidal, but. How going into the anomaly everyone thought was certain death. And why he did it. He had a while back learned that Brack didn't understand the concept of money. None of them did. There was no cashless chips implanted in their skin, they had no idea. Brack admitted it was one of the things they didn't understand when studying communications for as long as they had.

   Apparently, as hunter gatherers? Money had no value. Food, possessions. These things? Held value. Barter and trade, like any primitive society. Barter and trade carried over as their civilization and technology level rose. They didn't understand the concept of being "rich" and "winning" that way.

   What did they value. Capital in their society? Was ability. If you were good at what you did, that was your prestige level. It didn't matter what you dedicated your life to. Most people had careers handed down in their family line. If you wanted to, if you had a burning desire to suddenly switch? You could. But you were starting over.

   Joe understood this only from having read about the Japanese before they had been westernized. The master sword maker? Came from a long line of them. Generation after generation handed down everything they knew, father to son, then you were expected to at the bare minimum maintain that level of competency. But really, you added at least one or two small details onto it. Then? Passed the slightly bigger package on to your son.

   Ability mattered more than money to them, and these people had similar ideals. Joe and Ben at first got a kick out of raiding their last load they had gone through the anomaly with. The dry cleaned elite resort tenant's clothes. They thought it was funny, that they were walking around in thousand dollar suits. It only meant anything to them. In this culture? It was just strange clothes.

   When they asked if they could have clothes like their hosts wore, they said surely. They went to a place to get clothes like they wore. The people that made cloth? Got the raw materials from people that did that. They furnished the bolts of cloth to people that made clothes. People that made clothes? Had what Joe took for "stores". But, you just went in and got some. It made his head spin. Everyone did everything? Just to do it. It was what they did.

   Success was measured in this arena? By people desiring the clothes you made, more than clothes another manufacturer made. Whatever "restaurant" everyone enjoyed the most? That was the most successful one. If people clamored for another place to eat? Someone would open one up. It was prestige.

   This, was capital to them. If, for instance? They didn't have enough... anything. Any career. People clamored for more of them. People were attracted to this, and flocked to it. Different people, enjoyed different things. Joe didn't understand this working? But it did. This, would never work in his world. First gold and silver and other precious commodities... then paper money. No, he couldn't see his own race ever getting past that.

   Then Brack surprised him. Brack claimed? But, you and your people. You still had some of this, and not so long ago. Joe didn't believe him. Brack had lots of information, and showed him an old picture. Then men of an old European village were all standing around, posing very proudly. They had all gotten together, and pitched in and built a giant optical telescope. Back then? It was all the rage to have a big one.

   Planets were still being discovered. It was a mark of distinction, for your area to have the biggest telescope it could. It put you on the map. People would come from all over, to visit your village now. There, Brack said. You had it, its still in you. That? Was not so long ago.

   There was that hope again. Joe felt if him and his own had nothing, at least there was that shred of hope. Brack hit him again. The great depression. The men? Just wanted to work. They basically fed the men, and the men all were excited to have something important to do again. They all filed down, and built bridges. They quarried local stone, they had equipment and fuel donated by the works progress administration.

   There they were. The same type of men. Standing proudly, puffing their chests out. At the great overbuilt bridge the men of the town had built. If you fed them, and gave them food to take home every day? They were happy to have a big project to be on, and you could see the pride they took in what they had accomplished.

   Joe had to admit, he was right. The old phrase, you only get what you pay for? It was a false equation. You find one case where the law breaks down? Its simply wrong. How ironic that Brack had to show him. That when you even for a limited time managed to get money out of the equation? Human nature took over. The men would gather, work, and make something big. You just had to bring what they needed. Workers worked. Leaders, led. Organizers, organized. And when they were successful? That puffed out chest, that stern level gaze, that distant smile. It was too obvious.

   Ben was no gift to the mathematical work they were performing. Ben, was a pilot. He ended up being taken to play with tiny crafts to get to learn how they operated. He would come home at night, face beaming like a little kid, explaining what he had gotten to pilot that day.

   Ben got a great present, too. Genetic engineering. They were able to fix his cursed body. How ironic that was. Now that he had given everything up? He would live.

   Late in the game of finishing up the mathematical work, Joe looked at an image of Einstein. He realized that Brack was right. This man, had been a giant. How much money did he make a year? No one ever really recorded that. His work, what he did, what he accomplished. That's what was important about him. How much gold did Michaelangelo or DaVinci hoard up? Same thing. Look at these things they did.

   Tesla, another personal hero. He was in some kind of "war" with Edison. Edison had the PR spin, the money. The supposed "success" of his day. But Tesla had won. His AC? Beat Edison's DC. Any serious scientist knew, that Edison never really invented anything. All his patents? Were small improvements on existing inventions. Little children were taught Edison invented the light bulb? He didn't. He just found that carbon made a better filament. And that was quickly replaced soon after with tungsten alloy. Tesla? Actually invented. He all but created the modern age.

   Tesla. Cared little for money. As long as someone invested so he could further his work? All he cared about. In his old age, he was penniless. Even after all he had given the modern world. He was given a nice apartment to live in until he died. No one would measure Tesla by how much money he made or lost. They would measure him by his all encompassing genius.

   Einstein. Tesla. The real heroes. They changed the modern world. Hell, they all but invented it. And Joe decided, then and there.

   That was what he wanted for himself.