Emissary Stevens sighed and looked up from the handwritten letters stacked upon his desk. The last two weeks following the parade had kept the postal staff of his municipal office very busy. Those who followed Zeb refused to employ the computer network to deliver missives to his office. Those who called Zeb their teacher too greatly distrusted any computer for official business. Instead, the settlers of Zeb mailed handwritten letters to the United Systems' offices located in Sutherland's largest spaceport, and they forced the United Systems to employ a team of postal workers to sift through the mail before piling bags of letters onto Emissary Stevens' desk.
"Dump it there in the corner with the rest of it, Mr. Allen. I'll get to all of it as soon as I can. Never know what unanswered letter might set off another Zeb revolution."
The contents of those missives mailed to his office presented no mystery to Emissary Stevens. The United Systems had tightened the reigns on the water harvested by those aliens baskets, and each settler of Sutherland found the weight of water allocated to their homesteads a little lighter in the weeks following the parade celebrating the completion of Sutherland's construction contract. A glance at the piles of missives stacked in the corner of Emissary Stevens' office hinted that there were few settlers who had not taken the time to write to voice their disgust with the water rationing.
Emissary Stevens snatched an envelope from the top of the pile currently perching on his desk and grimaced as he began reading its contents. It took several minutes before the emissary's eye recognized language in the sloppy penmanship. A kind editorial eye would judge the letter's grammar to be atrocious. The mind behind such writing recognized no system of spelling familiar to Emissary Stevens. But the missive's letter remained as clear as any of the others delivered to the office - screaming that the United Systems had no jurisdiction to dare limit how much water one who followed Zeb might use in the cultivation of his or her homestead, that the United Systems held no authority to pass any ordinance upon those who followed Zeb after those settlers completed the colony's construction, that any law the United Systems dared attempt to enforce upon Sutherland broke terms of the contract held between the United Systems and those of Zeb who toiled to colonize the stars. Every letter screamed that whatever water was found upon Sutherland was a resource that belonged to the settlers of Zeb, a resource that could not be denied to any settler who brought a bucket to the water baskets to claim it.
Emissary Stevens believed each of those letters to have been written by fools.
The emissary feared that the water baskets would have emptied many weeks before the completion of the construction contract had the United Systems not instituted some form of water rationing. The Zeb settlers would've squandered all of it in a wink. Emissary Stevens imagined those settlers floating in leaking, private pools. He imagined them irrigating their rock yards while thinking it would only take another day of soaking the barren ground before green grasses miraculously sprouted, thinking that water alone grew plants of any kind. Like their dead mentor Zeb, those settlers refused to believe that any person or government had the authority to deny them a single desire or whim, no matter what would be wasted, no matter what would be lost.
"Are the settlers getting thirsty?"
Emissary Stevens flinched at Operative Sheridan's voice. How long had the operative been standing inside his office door?
"The settlers are furious that the water rationing tightens," Emissary Stevens answered. "I think the Zeb children thought the rationing would disappear entirely once they completed their construction contracts. Answering each of these letters with repeated assurances that the rationing is for the best is draining my staff's time."
Operative Sheridan scoffed. "Why even bother replying to such mail? There's nothing you, or anyone else, can write that will help those settlers understand the logic and good sense of the water rationing."
"I don't hope to enlighten them. I only hope to stave off revolution." The emissary sighed. "Like you said. Those water baskets make Sutherland a very strategic rock out here among the colonies. I don't want to watch the settlers of Zeb ruin such value just as they ruin themselves."
Operative Sheridan shrugged. "Gather those piles of letters and burn them. They'll be no revolution. No harm will come to any of the baskets. They'll not be another drop of water stolen from those basins."
"What do you know that I don't? Is the Systems planning to station police officers on Sutherland to protect those fields? The Systems better also bring an army. The settlers will not accept armed security of any kind, especially if that security wears any kind of Systems insignia."
Operative Sheridan grinned. "I would never advise the Systems to employ such blunt tools. The Systems will not bring a single police officer soldier to Sutherland. The Systems will not send one operative more."
"Then what magic do you hope to wield to protect those water baskets? Surely, you don't expect the settlers of Zeb to voluntarily follow the rationing laws for very long."
"I plan to let the settlers of Zeb police the water baskets themselves."
Emissary Stevens nearly fell out of his chair.
The operative frowned at the emissary's surprise. "I don't understand why you doubt me. How many orders for enhancement lenses have been received by your office?"
Emissary Stevens' fingers danced upon his desk's keyboard. "The numbers suggest we're hardly keeping pace with the demand. Settlers are ordering third and fourth pairs of the lenses. Must be stocking up in case something happens to their primary pair."
"You'll not run out," Operative Sheridan's smile stretched wider. "I've got an entire starliner orbiting the planet with its holds filled with enhancement lenses. Would you agree that it would be safe for me to say that every settler owns a pair of the enhancement lenses?"
Emissary Stevens nodded.
"And then there is this." Operative Sheridan tossed another envelope upon Emissary Stevens' desk. "Rip it open and get a peek at what that letter requests. It's one of a large sample the settlers are starting to mail to your offices."
Emissary Stevens ignored the indignation he felt upon suspecting that Operative Sheridan was intercepting his mail and unfolded the letter. It was written in the same scribbled penmanship as all the other missives sent by the settlers of Zeb, flawed once more by terrible spelling. Yet the letter's poor mechanics could not dull the implication Emissary Stevens recognized in the missive's opening lines. The letter requested help. Emissary Stevens could count on one hand the times he had heard any of the Zeb settlers seek assistance from even another settler. He had never heard of an occasion when a settler of Zeb had petitioned the United Systems for help.
"I don't believe it." Emissary Stevens reread the letter a second and third time.
Operative Sheridan nodded. "Do you understand now?"
Emissary Stevens was surprised when the epiphany arrived after a short moment. "You've introduced a threat to those settlers. A threat they despise even more than the United Systems. You're responsible for all the stories spreading around Sutherland concerning the harpie seen lurking about the rocks, seen creeping about the homesteads. The monster is your invention. And you introduce that monster through the enhancement lenses, just like you did the fireworks on the day of the parade."
Operative Sheridan's grin stretched from ear to ear. "You start to think like and operative."
"I never thought I would underestimate a United Systems operative," Emissary Stevens chuckled, "but I've done just that. You used the parade to lower the settlers' suspicions towards those lenses. The settlers couldn't resist peeking at fireworks thrown in their honor, no matter if they had to accept those lenses. Gaining control of what the settlers saw was only the first step. You created the harpie. You created the fear. You knew fear would be the best control mechanism. You'll control the harpie, and by doing so, you'll control the settlers through their fear."
/> Operative Sheridan nodded and strode to a pile of envelopes in the office corner, lifting from the stack one of the many missives assailing the water rationing in effect on Sutherland. The operative's hand produced a lighter, and a second later, the letter burned in Emissary Stevens' wastebasket.
"Now, I'll convince the settlers that they need to protect those water baskets. I'll convince them that the water is a treasure that needs their defense. You'll see, Emissary Stevens, that the settlers of Zeb will soon be protecting those water baskets better than a United Systems battalion might."
Operative Sheridan made no noise as he vanished out the emissary's door and down the hall. Emissary Stevens leaned back in his chair and propped his feet upon his desk before punching a button to his office intercom.
"Mr. Allen? I need to return to my office. Bring whatever help you can find. I want all these mailbags out of my office before I return from lunch. I want to see the smoke from their burn piles before the end of the day."