The Fleet Returns with Thirteen Thousand Refugees
The fleet that had set out with five ships returned with eight.
In a matter of moments, three enemy vessels had been captured.
But that was not the important part.
They had returned with a merchant fleet six months after the departure date.
“On the way out, many mercenaries were aboard, so there was no need to worry about pirates. On the way back, however, we had to leave the mercenaries behind on Atron, and the decision was made to travel with a large-scale moving convoy. That is why the return journey took longer than the outbound trip. We had to follow the merchant routes.”
Gurnyar, the fleet commander, spoke.
“We made use of the automatic navigation systems on the captured pirate ships. This allowed us to move the fleet with minimal manpower.”
In truth, this was not an important story. Technical details were of little interest, and I was not entirely sure what he was saying anyway.
“We filled every available space on the ships. We even emptied the cargo holds and distributed blankets to make room for people. You might call it inhumane, but in my view, giving them uncomfortable quarters aboard the ship was a small sin compared to abandoning them on Atron. That planet is far worse than you imagine, Chief.”
It seemed they had packed people into the passenger seats as tightly as possible and, lacking space even there, had filled the cargo holds as well. The number of people they had brought back was…
“Thirteen thousand in total.”
Seven times more than when we had left.
---
The Zakum tribe’s population, which had been thirty thousand in an instant, had swelled to forty-one thousand.
The population of an advanced planet was incomparable to that of a primitive world like ours. It was only natural. They had spent a long time building civilization, far longer than we had, and had squeezed every last bit of their planet’s capacity to support a larger population. It was a situation far removed from our own, where we farmed generously and ate generously.
Our planet, the primitive world of BK-201, had a population estimated between fifty million and one hundred million. Of that, our tribe numbered forty-one thousand. On Atron, the population was estimated at fifty billion at the lowest. The planet’s size was similar, but the populations were entirely different.
Why? Because until recently, we had been hunter-gatherers (and even now we still mix in some of that), while the agricultural history of Atron stretched back more than a thousand years. Over countless generations of farming, they had squeezed the planet’s soil to its limit, raising the population to the maximum the world could support.
In that context, ten to twenty thousand refugees was not even a significant number. It barely reached half a percent of the total refugee population.
Yet to us, it was an enormous number.
---
Thirteen thousand refugees arrived suddenly.
In most advanced nations, the arrival of refugees would first bring concern: Would they strain the social infrastructure? Would communication barriers create problems?
But we had no such worries.
After all, our tribe was originally a collection of many small tribes.
In the first place, among the tribespeople, there were fewer people who were not refugees than those who were.
As a result, the refugees blended in easily.
“So… if we just promise to farm, you’ll give us land?”
“In that situation, if we clear land, will you give us more land for what we clear?”
“Is this heaven?”
There was one drawback: the taxes were steep. But there were enough merits to free land to make up for it.
The merits were enough to justify half the taxes.
At first, the refugees did not know what to do with the land they received.
Not all refugees were farmers. Atron was a mining planet, and the number of people who had ever farmed was small.
For those people, the schools that had been built but never used were “activated.”
We recruited agricultural experts from our tribe who were known for their farming skills and began teaching the refugees.
But there was one problem.
It was language.
On our planet, there were roughly three major languages.
The first was the native tongue.
The natives generally understood each other. Of course, those who lived far apart sometimes used different dialects, but because the roots were the same, with a little effort they could understand. It was like a Seoulite hearing a Busan accent.
So what was the second language?
As you would expect, it was the interstellar standard, the Imperial language.
The language spoken by the most people in the universe right now was Galactic Imperial, or Arcadia.
Next came the common language of the Human Union.
And many people on our planet could speak the Imperial language as well.
Among the refugees from Atron, those who were proficient in a second language—those who had “studied a bit” in school—used the Imperial language.
Experts from Brontes also used Arcadia.
The Imperial language could be called “the language of those who had studied a little.”
And the third.
This was the problem.
The native language of Atron. Atron was a planet with a population of over fifty billion, and it had many native languages.
It was different from our own native tongues. Atron truly had many countries, each with its own language.
For example, a Seoulite and a Busan person could understand each other (though it might be difficult). If they spoke slowly, they could understand. In the modern age with developed internet and broadcasting, it was even more so.
But even so, a Seoulite and a Cape Town resident of South Africa could not understand each other. Even though they were both Earth people, different nationalities and different places of residence—how could they understand each other?
The same problem arose among the refugees from Atron. Even though they were all from Atron, each had their own country, so the languages they used differed and translation was difficult.
As a result, even though we taught them farming, and even though we translated the farming methods into Imperial, people who could not understand the language could not learn to farm.
But here, a savior appeared.
“Chief, hello.”
“Philia.”
I had once called her simply “doll,” but now I knew her name.
Philia Joanne. A language major.
“I heard there was a problem because people couldn’t talk to each other.”
“That’s right. It was causing me a headache… wait?”
Now that I thought about it, this woman had said she was a language major, hadn’t she?
“If you’re a language major, can you speak the language of Atron as well?”
“What do you think language studies are? Language studies is not the study of language itself, but the study of the universal structures and principles of various languages, and even further, the philosophical and social phenomena that can be expressed through language.”
“So you can’t?”
It was a pure question, but she gave me a face that looked deeply offended. Perhaps she had taken my words as a challenge from a proud middle-schooler.
In other words, if I were to put it in my previous life, I had basically asked her “scared?”
And she had not been scared.
“I can speak a few of Atron’s native languages. Lios, Papados, Malu, Ailo, Aran. And I can manage Gor as well.”
“…?”
Hadn’t I just said that language studies was not the study of language?
When I looked at her with that expression, she began to make excuses.
“Language studies is not the study of language! But… I’ve been interested in languages since I was little… and these days, Berata teaches languages too!”
Berata was the watch I had given her. I had learned Arcadia with that as well.
“It’s called language content-ization? There are so many easy devices for teaching languages that I’ve been learning them as a hobby since I was little.”
At those words, my expression grew even more bewildered.
So.
You learn languages just as a hobby?
It’s not to make a living, nor to build up your resume?
And on top of that, you majored in linguistics?
This woman…
“Could it be that she’s crazy?”
She might have a very different sensibility from others.
She sensed the bewilderment in my expression and blushed, lowering her head.
Even though she had done nothing wrong.
But what was certain was this:
What we needed right now was someone like her.
A person with a different sensibility from others.
And a person with abilities different from others.
I ordered her to help with simultaneous interpretation during the farming lessons for the people of Atron.
She translated so well that the expressions on the faces of the Atron people brightened in an instant.
The Atron people who learned farming methods through her were able to farm.
After all, rice farming was relatively easy compared to other crops.
And as the Atron people who had learned to farm taught their own countrymen, the farming methods spread rapidly among the refugees.
The refugees had become workers.
---
A month passed.
Philia Joanne, or simply Philia, could not hold back and learned two more languages.
Of course, not to native-speaker level.
After all, it was not particularly difficult to reach a level where one could communicate roughly.
There was no need to speak at a native-speaker level anywhere.
If my pronunciation was bad and the other person laughed, that was not my problem but the other person’s manners and conscience.
It was evidence that the person mocking the awkward pronunciation of a foreigner who was earnestly studying their own country’s language without knowing even one foreign language was a pitiful fool.
But the people of Atron were not like that.
A young, pretty Philia earnestly learning their language, albeit poorly, and her skill rapidly improving in such a short time made the people adore her.
Philia had become something of an idol among the people of Atron.
It was truly a demonic talent.
By this time, I had decided I should give her a title.
---
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