Parable of the Talents

good daddy. I have a teaching job for him in Seattle. I believe he'll thrive in it if he can let him­self.

Jorge Cho and his family are coming. I've found work for Jorge and Di in Portland.

Now I have to look around for places for the Figueroas.

************************************

I believe that I've finally done it. I believe that my life has finally educated me enough to enable me to make a real start at planting Earthseed. It may be too soon to say this, but it feels true. I believe it is true.

I've allowed the Elfords to make The First Book of the Living available free on the nets. I never expected to make money from the book. My only fear has been that someone would take it and change it, make it an instrument of some other theology or use it for some new brand of demagoguery. Joel Elford says the best way to avoid that is to make it available on every possible net and with my name on it. And, of course, the copyright is my legal fallback if someone does begin to misuse it seriously.

'I don't think you realize what you have,' Joel told me.

I looked at him in surprise and realized that he believed what he was saying.

'And you don't realize how many other people will want it,' he continued. 'I've aimed the book particularly at the nets that are intended to interest American universities and the smaller free cities where so many of those universities are lo­cated. It will go out worldwide, but it will draw more attention to itself in those places.'

He was smiling, so I asked, 'What are you expecting to happen?'

'You're going to start hearing from people,' he said. 'You'll soon have more attention than you'll know what to do with.' He sobered. 'And what you actually do with it is important. Be careful.' Irma trusted me more than Joel did. Joel was still watching me—watching with a great deal of interest. He says it's like watching a birth.

 

sunday, december 30, 2035

I've been traveling.

That's nothing new for me, but this is different. This time, thanks to the book, I've been invited by university groups and others, and paid to travel, paid to speak—which is a Little Like paying ice to be cold.

And I've been flying. Flying! I've walked over most of the West Coast, and now I've flown over the interior of the country and over much of the East Coast. I've flown to Newark, Delaware; Clarion, Pennsylvania; and up to Syra­cuse, New York. Next, I go to Toledo, Ohio; Ann Arbor, Michigan; Madison, Wisconsin; and Iowa City, Iowa.

'Not a bad first tour,' Joel told me before I left. 'I thought you'd arouse interest. People are ready for something new and hopeful.'

I was scared to death, worried about flying and worried about speaking to so many strangers. What if I attracted the wrong kind of attention? How would Len handle the experi­ence? And I worried about Len, who seemed to be even more afraid than I was, especially about flying. I had spent more money than I should have, buying us both decent clothing.

Then Joel and Irma were taking us to the airport in their huge car. One way in which they do indulge themselves is to keep a late-model armed and armored car—a civilian mag­got, really. The thing cost as much as a nice house in a good neighborhood, and it's scary-looking enough to intimidate anyone stupid enough to spend their time hijacking vehicles.

'We've never had to use the guns,' Irma told me when she showed them to me. 'I don't like them. They frighten me. But being without them would frighten me more.'

So now Len and I are lecturing and conducting Earthseed Workshops. We're being paid in hard currency, fed well, and allowed to live in good, safe hotels. And we're being wel­comed, listened to, even taken seriously by people who are hungry for something to believe in, some difficult but worthwhile goal to involve themselves in and work toward.