Chapter 7
Kirk spent the next day and a half in that box. First did not again talk to him. He spent much of the time sleeping, the rest of it praying and doing isometric exercises. Suddenly he found himself in an outdoor cage. Within moments, he was joined by the other six. With seven of them, it was standing room only. But Kirk managed to get to each of them, look into their eyes, and assure himself they were all doing okay.
McCoy made the rounds also, getting to Kirk last. He took a long look at Kirk's chest with its makeshift bandage. Rewrapping the wound with the rest of Kirk's shirt, he muttered, "Not a bad job, considering. If it doesn't get infected, it'll probably heal, provided you live that long."
"Such encouraging words, Bones. How is everybody?"
"Mild dehydration. Nothing serious, yet."
"Everybody escaped unscathed from all that wild stuff?"
"Not counting cuts, scrapes, and bruises, yes."
Spock interrupted their conversation. "Captain, I must apologize."
"For what, Spock?"
"The thing which I forgot to consider was predictable."
"And that is?"
"Our host cannot resist playing with the subjects."
Kirk laughed. "I thought it was great! Not boring."
McCoy snorted. "You would think that!"
They spent hours in that cage. It was elevated from its surroundings, so they could see for some distance. They could also be seen. They saw slaves of all seven races, some in groups, others mingling freely. Many stopped to stare at them, but only for a minute or two. Then they would hurry on, furtively looking over their shoulder at some unseen watcher. Nowhere did they see any of First's people. From the location of various buildings, and the flow of people, Kirk deduced the cage was located in a central plaza.
As the hours wore on, daylight dwindled. People seemed to be gathering in the plaza, and the focus of their attention was clearly the cage. Suddenly they were blinded by floodlights shining in their faces. Kirk forced himself not to cover his eyes, or even squint. Though he could no longer see the crowd, he could hear their heightened interest. Something was about to happen.
But it didn't. For an hour, they stared at the blinding lights. Finally someone in the crowd yelled, "Who are you?"
"My name is Jim."
This caused a stir, Kirk guessed, because the universal translator rendered his response in the language of the question.
"What are you?" This question from a different source.
"We are humans." Silent apology to Spock.
This caused an even greater stir, because question and answer had been in a different language than the first.
"Where are you from?" This in a third language.
"Another planet far away."
A subdued uproar ensued. The first questioner called for silence, then directed others to ask a question. Four more questions and answers followed, each in a different language. The questions were duplicates of those already asked.
An uneasy silence came over the crowd, followed by quiet muttering. Definite fear overtones, not anger. Suddenly, one of them stepped in front of the floodlights and faced Kirk. All Kirk could see however, was his silhouette. It was one of the race Sulu would be sent to.
"They will kill me for this, but you must not let them know you have all languages."
"Let who know?" Kirk responded.
"The Watchers. They see everything."
"Then they already know, don't they?"
"You are marked for death, I am sure. But the others-" He shrugged a question.
"Aren't we all going to die?"
"They will work you as long as you are useful. But you - you are too dangerous. If they do not kill you, you could help us."
"Help you do what?"
"I cannot say. And it's no use; they will kill you. They will kill me too."
"If your life is forfeit anyway, then tell me something useful."
Before there could be any response, the figure disappeared. The crowd gasped, and backed away in fear. Kirk turned to Spock.
"What are the odds this cage is not wired for sound?"
"Virtually nonexistent, Captain."
xxxx
The night hours wore on. The crowds dispersed, but the floodlights stayed on. Kirk ordered a two-hour rest shift for each in turn. McCoy first, then Uhura, Scotty, and Chekov. Arranging their feet to allow for Scotty's bulk to lie on the floor was a bit of a challenge, but they managed it, with Kirk and Spock each standing on one foot. Those standing leaned against one another, and the night passed slowly.
Shortly after dawn, the floodlights were turned off. Within an hour, a contingent of slaves approached the cage. There were six of them. They stopped about twenty feet from the cage and formed a circle facing inward. As Kirk watched, Uhura appeared within the circle. Glancing around, he saw that she was not in the cage anymore. She looked up at them, but was quickly herded away.
Every hour or two, Kirk lost another of his crew. Each was taken the same way, and by the slave group they had agreed upon. By mid-afternoon, Kirk was alone in the cage. There had been no goodbyes; it would not do to give away the fact that they knew who was about to disappear.
Three hours went by and nothing happened. Kirk began to wonder if they were in fact just going to kill him. First would try to prevent it if he knew, but Kirk had no idea if First would find out about it in time to do him any good. But there was absolutely nothing he could do, so he determined not to worry about it. He lay down and slept.
He woke when the floodlights came on. He sat up and looked around, but again he could see nothing, and no one approached him. He could hear that there were people watching him, but the crowd seemed smaller than the night before. He stood up and stretched his muscles. He sensed that he was on display, but could not fathom the reason. He just quietly waited. An hour or two went by.
Suddenly he found himself elsewhere. No flicker of surprise showed on his face. That quiet pose of waiting remained undisturbed. Though he could as yet see nothing, he sensed that he was in an enclosed room, and that there were bodies close by. One of them spoke.
"Do you understand my language?"
"Yes."
"Do not move, or we will kill you."
Someone came up behind him and dropped a chain over his head. He expected them to cinch it tight, but they didn't. This necklace could be removed at will.
"That is your ID disk. Wear it at all times. If you don't, you die. I don't know who you were before, and I don't care. From now on, you are #46529. Memorize it now. You will be required to say it hundreds of times a day. If you don't, you die. Say it now."
"46529."
"Say, 'I am number 46529.'"
"I am number 46529."
"Remember it. If you don't, you die."
It was beginning to sound monotonous. There followed half a dozen instructions he was expected to remember and obey. If not... Nothing was said, however, about the means of death. Finally, he was admonished that his every word and action would be watched.
He was assigned the job of janitor, garbage collector, and sewage disposer. He was to keep his assigned communal facility spotless 24 hours a day. The facility was used by three different shifts of ten men each. He could eat during each of the one-hour periods the facility was in use. Any rest he got would be after he had finished cleaning. It took him four hours the first time, three hours the second, and two and a half the third. His supervisor noticed immediately, and assigned him two bathroom facilities the second day. By the end of the second day, he had his time down to one and a half hours each. They gave him four bathrooms the third day, which he did in one hour each.
The fourth day he got six bathrooms. But one look at them told Kirk it was going to be a long day. They had ganged up on him and trashed all six bathrooms. With filth everywhere, it was going to be a real challenge to get them presentable before shift change. Working feverishly and cutting corners he thought might not be noticed, he finished just minutes before inspection. The supervisor found him resting on the floor in the corridor.
"Number 46529!"
Kirk scrambled to his feet and came to attention.
"Yes, sir! I am number 46529, sir!"
"Your work is sloppy today! What is the meaning of this?!"
"No excuse, sir!" To tell of the mess was not the way this game was played. At least, Kirk assumed the rules were the same in this culture.
"You're on report, and see that it doesn't happen again!"
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."
"What are you thanking me for?"
"Nothing, sir."
"That's not true. Answer the question."
"I was thanking you for the correction, sir. I wish to know when my work is not satisfactory, so that I may avoid repeating errors."
The supervisor looked startled, then left without another word, as the corridor filled with those arriving to use the facilities. Kirk lay down to rest, deciding food was lesser in importance at the moment. The second shift made an even worse mess than the first, but Kirk had thought of one or two ways to make the work go faster. So again, he finished just before inspection, and this time without cutting any corners on the quality of his work.
By the end of third shift, he had had nothing to eat and virtually no rest, but the facilities were once again clean. After inspection, the supervisor again approached him. They exchanged the ritual recitation of his numbered identity.
"So, I see you've corrected the problem. Tell me, do you work better when you do not eat?"
"No, sir."
Kirk sensed this man was genuinely puzzled, and not nearly as hostile as he tried to appear. But he asked no more questions, and Kirk did not feel free to volunteer information. So he prayed for him.
"Today you are assigned all ten facilities."
He looked for a reaction in Kirk's face: anger, dismay, or anything. Not a flicker.
"See that you do a good job."
"Yes, sir."
The supervisor turned away, and Kirk grinned in amusement at his retreating back. So, they were trying to break him. If even half of them were trashed, there would not be sufficient time to finish the job. His mind automatically began trying to think of ways to conquer the increased workload.
But the bathrooms were not trashed. He finished all ten in just over five hours. With three hours of rest, and a meal, Kirk was feeling good. Shortly after second shift began, the supervisor walked in on his work. After the ritual greeting, the supervisor told him to continue his work. The man watched him for over an hour. Two hours later, he was back, and another man was with him. Again he was told to continue working. This time they only stayed about twenty minutes.
Having finished his work, he was sound asleep when the supervisor returned. But being accustomed to being wakened suddenly without notice, he showed no distress at the disturbance of his sleep. After the ritual greeting, the supervisor asked an odd question.
"Can you teach what I saw you do today?"
"You mean, how to clean a bathroom in thirty minutes? I can certainly explain it. Whether others can learn it depends on several factors. Who do you want me to teach, and how much time do I get?"
"Very little time. Unless I am mistaken, you are going to get promoted beyond my reach tomorrow. But since you have proved that it can be done, I will now be expected to do with one man what ten could not effectively do before. Today is all the time there is, so can you teach me?"
"Techniques are one thing; motivation is quite another. I can teach you the techniques, and if you're willing to get your hands dirty, you can probably learn them in a few hours. But you will not get long-term excellence in the quality of work performed as long as your people are operating out of a fear-based motivation."
"I don't understand."
"The threat of 'do it or die' only works in the crisis of immediate consequences."
"But- you did it."
Kirk laughed. "You think I worked my tail off yesterday because I was afraid you would kill me if I didn't?"
"Aren't you?"
"I'm not afraid of you, or the Watchers."
"You haven't seen them, or what they do."
"Have you?"
"I've seen what they do to the Speaker."
"Who's the Speaker?"
"You'll find out tomorrow."
Kirk spent the rest of his rest break explaining and illustrating his cleaning techniques. Much of it was simply economy of motion principles. He never allowed himself a wasted motion. The biggest time-saver was running the sewage pumper at the same time as he did the rest of the cleaning. The funniest was using the shower head to hose down the walls. He himself got soaking wet in the process, but it was fun.
At Kirk's suggestion, the supervisor called in four people for Kirk to train during third shift. The supervisor would watch and listen.
"Give me three hours with them. If necessary, I can redo everything afterwards. Pay particular attention to their level of motivation, and how and why it changes."
The four men arrived and the ritual ID greeting took only moments. The supervisor gave Kirk authority.
"For the next three hours, you will do exactly as #46529 tells you. If you don't-" He stopped, flustered.
Kirk chuckled. "-I will not kill you. But you will miss out on what promises to be an interesting evening. Because if you do not obey me, I will summarily dismiss you from the remainder of this training session. Is that clear?"
He fixed each of them with a steely glare, and got wary nods in response.
He grinned. "All right then. Who wants to volunteer to be first?"
No response. They weren't that stupid. He picked one at random.
"You. Come with me. The rest of you stay out here and listen carefully. Your turn will come."
Taking his chosen victim into the bathroom, he explained.
"This is what I want you to do. Watch very carefully everything I do. Second, laugh loudly and continually, so that no one in the corridor can hear what I am doing."
For the next half hour, Kirk cleaned and his trainee laughed. He did the same with each trainee in turn. Then he put two of them together, one to clean and one to laugh, telling the one laughing to make note of anything the cleaner did differently from what he had done. Then he switched teams so that each of them had a turn at being cleaner. With thirty minutes left, he sat them down in the corridor and asked them what they had learned.
Each was eager to tell of the mistakes they had seen. Kirk let them argue with each other on several points as to which was right. He settled the disputes by telling what he had done, but pointing out that alternative methods were acceptable, as long as the result passed inspection.
"Anything else? Any questions?"
"I've never had such a good time. I didn't know cleaning bathrooms could be fun!"
Others expressed similar sentiment.
"What made it fun?" Kirk asked.
"You did! At first I thought it was ridiculous to be told to laugh. But the more I watched you, the easier it got. You were so funny: making all those faces, carrying on, and playing with the shower hose."
Someone else interrupted. "At one point, I thought he was going to squirt me. But he didn't; he squirted himself and just laughed."
Kirk grinned. "I was tempted, but I didn't know if you would think it was funny."
"When it was my turn to clean, I decided to see if I could copy your attitude, not just your actions. I was surprised how easy it was." This from a third trainee.
"Our time is up. Thank you, gentlemen, for participating in our little experiment tonight. I have nothing further, so with the permission of #40712, you're free to go."
After they left, Kirk answered 40712's questions for another half hour. In spite of repeated explanations, he could not understand how Kirk had made it fun. Finally, Kirk volunteered to show him. He watched while Kirk cleaned one of the remaining bathrooms. Kirk didn't tell him to laugh, but he did.
"But you didn't do all this carrying on yesterday, did you?"
"Of course not. I wasn't trying to motivate anybody yesterday."
"But you were motivated."
"I don't need external motivation. I'm internally motivated."
"Another thing: why did you tell them to laugh?"
"I wanted to build curiosity in those who were listening. I wanted them to think their fellow trainee was having a great time cleaning the bathroom. At the same time, everybody likes a secret. I wanted the one laughing to think that I didn't want anyone to know what I was doing. Especially they would not tell that I was doing all the work. But also, when they were back in the corridor, they would listen carefully to see if they could tell what I was doing by sound. In that way, they would review in their minds every step of the job, without realizing they were doing it."
"You are sneaky." The supervisor chuckled.
"It worked, didn't it?" Kirk grinned.
"Yes, I guess it did. So now I've got four guys who know how. Mind if I watch you again? You've got one more to do."
"You need to ask? Feel free. With or without shenanigans?"
"Without."
Kirk dispatched the last bathroom with ease. 40712 did the inspections, and Kirk cleaned up the few things the others had not done to his satisfaction.
"You know, a week ago, I would have passed this work. You've raised my expectations. Everybody else I've had in this job has done his best to do as little work as possible. I understand that. It's you I don't understand."
"I like to work, and I like a job to be well done. I don't want my stamp of ownership on sloppy work."
"That reminds me, I didn't know about yesterday. The only reason I found out is they couldn't believe you had cleaned it up so well that I couldn't tell."
"Don't they do that to everybody?"
"No, they don't. Occasionally somebody uses it to get revenge, but it almost always backfires. The culprit gets the ax."
"You kill for a prank like that?!"
"We can't tolerate disrespect for authority. Anyway, they probably decided they could get away with this, because they're too many to kill."
"Why would they risk it? I haven't been here long enough to acquire enemies."
"You're an alien. They don't like you; they don't trust you."
"And you do?"
"I've liked you since yesterday. Two reasons: I seldom see maximum effort, but I appreciate it for what it is. It took everything you had to get those bathrooms clean in time. Secondly, you refused to tell me what was going on, even after they did it three times in a row."
"It's true that I assumed you knew. But it wouldn't have mattered anyway. Where I come from, the new guy is expected to take whatever's dished out without complaining, and the more unfair the better."
"Well, you better go get something to eat. Tomorrow's rest day."
"Rest day?"
"Didn't they tell you? Every seventh day there's no work. You won't be cleaning bathrooms tomorrow. Kitchen's closed all day. First eight hours is mandatory rest - that's lying down on your bunk. You haven't got one, so you rest here in the corridor.
"After that is the big meeting - also mandatory. Usually lasts quite a few hours. The rest of the day is free time - you can go anywhere, do anything, just as long as you're at your post first thing the next day. But if I were you, I'd lay low. There's no telling what they might do to you."
"Thanks for the advice. Can I ask you a question?"
"Yes."
"Does the whole planet have rest day on the same day?"
"Yes, but why- Oh, you're hoping to see your people? I wouldn't count on it. I got the impression they wanted you separated, for good."
"It seemed to me that they let the different peoples mingle freely."
"They do, at least for those who've earned a lot more free time than you have. But we can't talk to them; we don't understand each other. The Watchers want it that way. They've made that very clear."
"Divide and conquer. It's a very old principle, and it works."
