Once a core colony was set up, the Church began to openly offer a chance for people to immigrate to New Jerusalem. The Church offered anyone a slot on a colony ship to New Jerusalem at no upfront cost, even if they were not members of the faith. Upon arrival, however, the new colonists would be under a work contract with the Church. Experienced people or specially trained individuals were offered slots in their fields of expertise, while unskilled individuals were given the choice to become either farmers or laborers for the Church. If they chose to become a farmer, they would spend 2 years on a farm learning the fundamentals and, once they had proven their knowledge and skills, be given a plot of land with a farmstead. For the next 10 years most of their harvest would go directly to the Church. The Church would provide maintenance and support of equipment including outright replacements as well as supply of food for the farmer and their family as well as access to medical care, all again at no cost. If they opted to become laborer the terms of the contract were nearly identical, except instead of a farmstead the worker was paid a stipend and the term was only 5 years. During this time they lived in a communal housing facility with their own small apartment, food services, medical care, and other necessities. The terms for laborers allowed the laborer to annually renew the contract at will once the mandatory term was up, which most did. Most of the initial waves chose to become farmers, which caused a short-term labor shortage at the onset of colonization. To alleviate this, subsequent waves were still allowed to choose, but only a finite number of each slot was available. The colonists made their selections in an order determined by lottery.
“All personnel prepare for entry procedure” came a loud, metallic voice over the shipboard intercom. Ariz moved to his designated seat and doublechecked that his duffel bag was stowed correctly. He didn’t want the bag containing his few worldly possessions to come loose and spill into the ship’s zero-g environment. His heart was racing as he craned his neck to get a glimpse out of a nearby window. Disappointingly, the shutters had been closed for the shuttle’s entry into the atmosphere. Just before he began to buckle the restraints, he remembered something. Floating past his nearby seatmate, Ariz dug into his bag and took a small, gold colored ancient mechanical pocket watch. He glanced at the old device, musing that he would have to figure out how to change it to his new home’s clock. His contemplation was cut short as an attendant forcibly told him to take his seat, and the pilot’s voice came back on telling the passengers that entry was about to begin.
Ariz apologized and floated back to his seat. Pocketing the watch, he clicked the restraint buckles in place and waited. He felt a slight motion as the shuttle began to shift into its final flight path, and he quickly pulled the watch back out. He flicked his fingers against the lid, opening and closing it. This kind of fidgeting was normal for him. The watch had been given to him by his mother, and supposedly it had been in his family for…actually, he wasn’t sure how long. He had always held onto it no matter what. After the floods that had left his family dead and him homeless at 15, it was really all he had left of them. Drifting between homeless camps and shelters, he had always barely scraped by. Throughout all the hardship, substance abuse, and even stints in the prison system, the watch had always been with him.
When the Jerusalemite Church announced free passage to anyone willing to work on their new world, he had been hesitant at first. Over time though, he had come to realize that he had nothing to lose. After all, a new world was a place to start fresh. They didn’t even seem to care he wasn’t a member of their faith. He had been presented the choice of a contract as a laborer or farmer, and he had chosen to be a farmer. While he couldn’t consciously decide why he had chosen farmer, deep down his subconscious was drawn to the food security if offered. 2 years of training and 10 years of the Church taking a portion of his harvest in exchange for land, food, medical care, and all the essentials of life sounded like a pretty sweet deal. Ariz continued to flick the watch’s lid. The journey had taken months and he was sick of food paste, cold sleep, and the feeling of zero-g.
He closed the watch lid and brought it close to his chest as a massive rumble shook the shuttle. The pilot’s voice came back over the intercom. “Don’t worry about that noise folks, it’s just the atmosphere.” For the first time in months he thought he felt gravity. As the minutes continued, he felt more certain, he could finally feel his own weight again. The shuttle began to shake more violently, and he went back to fidgeting with his watch. After a few long minutes the shaking stopped and the flight smoothed out. The pilot’s voice came back on the intercom one last time as the window shudders retracted, revealing the bright blue sky over a new world.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to New Jerusalem.”