Kiko Shanell stepped out of the United States of Earth Peace Corps ship Shriver and looked around.

"Well, Miss Shanell, what do you think of Brontal?" Captain Steven Zachary asked, gently pushing her to the side to make room for the last half of the crew.

"It’s like Arizona, with medieval villages instead of pueblos," Kiko glanced ahead to the spot where Zenobia Pierce, the communications officer, was greeting the natives. "And those aren’t exactly Indians."

"No, they’re not." The Brontalians had the same number of eyes, ears, arms, and legs as humans, but were much taller -- the shortest in the group by Ms Pierce was well over 2 meters tall. Their skin was a color Kiko had only seen before in cafeteria meat; sort of pinkish-brown. They had no hair, and their noses were very flat, reminiscent of pigs. "Excuse me, I must go speak with them."

Captain Zachary moved up to join Pierce, Second Officer Ursula Smith, and the ship’s two security guards.

"Greetings, Captain," the lead Brontalian said, speaking the squeaky language for which this planet was known. "Welcome to Brontal. We have sent a message to the abbey. A priest will be here soon. He will probably take you to meet the abbot."

"Excellent," the Captain replied in the same tongue. "Tell me, has the technology we brought you many years ago been useful?"

"Technology? We know not this word. The priests have much magic, but God gave it to them. Are you messengers of God? You don’t look like it. The priests say messengers of God have big wings and are always surrounded by light." The native was beginning to look very confused.

"No, we are not messengers of God. We come from another planet, another world. People from our world were here once, about 250 years ago, in our time. We came to help your world, to make your life better."

Just then, a Brontalian in a silver robe came running up. "Bob, why aren’t you working? You were supposed to be at the plant half an hour ago! Get along now, and take all these loiterers with you." When Bob hesitated, the Brontalian raised is voice, "Get along now, before we dock your pay!" Bob and the others ran off toward the cooling towers in the distance.

"Are you sure that was necessary, sir?" Zachary asked. "It seems to me that visitors from another planet make a good excuse for tardiness to work."

"There is no excuse for tardiness. Come along, now. I am Father Nort. I must take you to see Abbot Johera. You five may come. The others must stay on the ship."

"On the ship? Please. We’ve been stuck on there for 6 weeks now."

"Very well, but they must go no further than 20 paces from it, and they may speak to no one."

"Why not? We have come to educate the people of this planet. How can we do that without talking to them?"

"I’m sure your records indicate that the peasants of Brontalia are very superstitious. It would not do to have them decide your people are demons and kill them."

Zachary favored the priest with a long, searching look. "All right, for now. Yul!"

"Yes, sir!" The first officer responded immediately.

"Stay here with the ship. Pierce, Smith, Renton, Hutchins and I are going to meet the abbot. You’re not allowed to go more than twenty paces from the ship or speak to anyone."

"Yes, sir -- but why?"

"I’ll explain later, if an explanation is possible."

Later that day, the officers and crew of the Shriver crowded into the mess hall. They suspected a problem, and the captain’s face did nothing to ease their fears.

"Okay, folks, here’s the rundown. As you know, 400 Brontalian years ago, which is about 500 of our years, the priests of the small kingdom of Aspirtum overthrew their king and set up a theocracy. 200 years ago, a Peace Corps ship came here. They made contact with the priests, and taught them our technology. The priests promised to disseminate this knowledge to all the people on the planet. That’s all in our official records. What happened afterwards, of course, is not. The clergy didn’t keep that promise. Hiding our technology as much as possible, and declaring it a magic gift from God when it had to be revealed, they took over the planet. Their rule is supreme, with a simple, yet long hierarchy. The Supreme Archbishop has complete control, with Archbishops, bishops, abbots, priests, and monks following in order of decreasing power. The peasants have no power. The only hope they have for their children is the slim chance that one of them might be talented enough and liked enough to enter the church. This happens very rarely. The church is coed, and clergy can marry other clergy. That’s how they keep the supply up."

After the captain finished, the other crew members sat in silence, digesting his words. Eventually, Technician Colin West asked the question that was on everyone’s mind.

"So, what do we do, sir?"

"I don’t know. The priests want us to teach them more technology, and look at what they’ve developed over the years. Problem is, they’re probably not going to share that information. Peace Corps directive number four states that we have to ensure there’s a means of disseminating knowledge across all social and economic strata, and that isn’t it. Yes, Miss Apfel?"

"Can’t we teach the peasants to use the technology?"

"The abbot has told me that any attempts along those lines will result in our removal from the planet."

"You mean they’re going to kick us off?"

"That, and I wouldn’t put it past him to have us killed, as well as anyone we taught." Although no one had been speaking but Zachary, the room suddenly became deathly silent. Zachary looked around. "I know that’s not the kind of thing you all signed up for, so we’re going to lie low for know. I’m going to contact Earth and ask for advice. Yes, Todd?"

"Could we stage a coup?"

"Always spoiling for a fight, aren’t you Todd," the copilot/weapons manager shrugged. "A planet-wide coup with 27 people?"

"We’d have to get help from the peasants, obviously."

"Interesting idea, but remember, the priests have weaponry equivalent to late 20th-century Earth. Nukes, biologicals, chemical weapons -- they could blow this ship up right now if they wanted."

"Oh. Still, there has got to be something we can do." Everyone nodded in agreement.

"I’m sure there is. Brainstorm a little. See what sort of plans you can come up with. Zenobia, come help me set up the transmission to Earth."

The operator who answered Zachary’s call to headquarters looked sleepy and annoyed. "Well, what do you want?"

"Excuse me for interrupting your mid-shift snooze, young man, but I need to speak to Admiral Pakin immediately."

"The Admiral is a very busy man. What makes you think I can disturb him?"

"This is Captain Steven Zachary of the Shriver. I’m calling from Brontal. I have a situation that requires the Admiral’s attention, and no measly operator is going to stop me from speaking with him." The operator looked angry and fearful at the same time. Zachary had a legend in the Corps for reacting very badly to disrespectful and undisciplined behavior.

"I can’t put you through to the Admiral, Captain, sir, but I can get you his secretary, sir."

"That will be fine." The kid’s face disappeared, to be replaced a moment later by a pretty blond in her mid-thirties.

"Steven! What brings you to my screen?"

"I need to talk to the Admiral, Alyssa. It’s important." Something about his tone convinced Alyssa that it was, indeed, very important, and she put him through right away.

Zachary explained the situation much as he had to his crew. When he had finished, the Admiral was silent for a long moment.

"Steve, do you think you can stay on their planet and liaise without teaching them anything?"

"Doubtful, sir. The Abbot seemed pretty gung-ho for new stuff."

"Okay, here’s what I want you to do. Teach them what you were going to teach them, only start with the cantrips, draw it out as long as possible. Work your way to more important things slowly. Avoid teaching them about weapons or actually helping with theirs. If you can get a look at them, and report that, it would be good, though."

"Are we going to be fighting them, sir?

"You and your crew? Hopefully not. You’re not fighters. You should probably run before you fight."

"What about the fleet?"

"I’m getting there. I want your crew to find out as much as they can about the attitudes of everyone on planet. See if the peasants want a new government. See if any of the priests would be amenable to democracy. Send me frequent reports on this. I’ll have to go to the legislature and the fleet before I can decide any more, but don’t rule out a coup."

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent. Keep me posted. Pakin out."

Several weeks later, Bob the Brontalian and Kiko Shanell walked along a creek. Kiko was thinking about some ways to revamp the water discharge system from the nuclear power plant. The captain discouraged crew wandering about along, and Kiko had wanted to talk to Bob about something, anyway.

"Bob, may I ask you a question?"

"Of course, Kiko."

"Why is Father Nort so mean to you?"

"Because he is my brother." That response made so little sense to Kiko that she had to stop walking in an attempt to sort it out. Seeing her puzzlement, Bob elaborated. "Nort was chosen to become a priest when we were both adolescents. They took him away for many years. When he came back, he had changed to the way he is now. Before he was smart, and nice."

"How do you stand having your own brother treat you like that?"
"Well, God says to forgive. Besides, sometimes I think he is mean because of the conflict inside him. He sees how poorly the peasants are treated, and feels guilty for causing our pain instead of sharing it. Then he feels guilty about betraying the church with such thoughts, and takes it out on me."

"The priests cause you pain?"

"Not physical pain, not often anyway. You see, peasants are peasants because we are wicked; our parents were wicked, and so on back and back and back. Our wickedness deserves punishment. The priests ensure that simply living the life of a peasant is punishment enough. Every so often, they find a child who is smart, and they say, ‘Look, God has gifted this family with a child who will be a priest. They must not be so wicked as the others,’ and for a while, punishment on that family relents."

"Do you believe that? Do you believe because your life is miserable because you are wicked?"

"I wouldn’t say miserable. I am happy with my wife. I would like children, but the really wicked are infertile."

"How do you know you are really wicked?"

"I work here, don’t I?"

"Do you think you are wicked?"

"The priests say I am. I stole food from the abbey once for my little sister. Others believe I am."

"But do you believe it?"

"I don’t feel wicked."

"Bob, I’m going to ask you something. You must be very careful, because if the priests find out I asked it, my shipmates and I will be in lots of trouble. I promise I will only share your answer with my captain, and he will tell no one."

"This sounds bad. I don’t know if we should be talking."

"Just one question, Bob. Would you like to see the priests lose their power?"

"Yes -- well, maybe. What if it goes to someone worse?"

"I see your point. That would be bad, wouldn’t it."

"Of course, I can’t imagine anything worse than the priests, can you, Kiko?"

Kiko laughed. "Not really, no. Come on, let’s take a look at that outlet pipe."

A few days after that, the Shriver left suddenly. Bob was sad that his friend had left without saying goodbye. Nort and the other priests were very angry because they suspected they hadn’t learned everything the crew could have taught them.

The night after the Shriver left, many bright lights appeared in the sky, bigger and brighter than stars. They were the ships of Earth’s space going navy. They offloaded troops who soon ensured that the priests were prisoners in their own abbeys. Not long after that, every Peace Corps ship in the galaxy came to Brontal. Bob was overjoyed to see his friends return. There was much to be said.

As soon as they set down, Captain Zachary called a meeting of all of the villagers in Bob’s village. They came, very confused as to why there were no priests all of a sudden.

"Greetings, my friends," Zachary said when everyone has settled. "Your planet has just undergone a great change. You are now free."

"Free from what?" an old Brontalian asked.

"You are free from the oppression of the priests. All over the planet, crews are coming in to help your villages develop democratic governments. Democratic means rule by the people. You now rule, instead of the priests. In time, the villages will join together to make states, and the states will join together to make a planetary government."

"But that means no more punishment. If we are not punished for our wickedness, we will not go to heaven."

"No, you’re wrong." Everyone gasped as Bob stood. "I have thought much since I talked with Kiko last week. Wickedness comes from actions, not from birth. Why do we believe the priests. We know they lied about their magic from God. We know it came from these people, who are not from God. Why should we trust them about anything else?" Many of the villagers nodded agreement. A few, disgruntled, left, cursing the gathering.

"That’s very wise, Bob. Perhaps you will become a leader in this new world," Zachary congratulated.

"How will we know who our leaders are?" Several villagers asked in chorus.

"You elect them. You must come to a consensus as to how many leaders you need. Then, you nominate people to be leaders. Nomination means that one person says, ‘I think this man would be a good leader,’ and another person agrees. When nominations are done, you vote. Everyone gets to say who they think is the best choice, and the person the most people support wins."

"Will you help us?"

"Certainly. That’s why we’re here." Kiko watched from the back as Captain Zachary helped conduct the first free elections in the history of Brontal.