Expendable - James Alan Gardner [59]
Oar didn’t answer immediately; she stayed motionless in the fountain’s mist, water beading on her skin. It made her easier to see—like the glass of a bathroom mirror, fogged after a long hot shower. Finally, she turned and sat on the edge of the fountain. Her movement shook loose the larger droplets, sending them trickling down her body.
“I clear fields, Festina. That is what I do.”
“Clear fields? Why? Do you grow crops?”
“I just clear fields,” she answered. “Jelca said it should be done. He said that civilized races always cleared fields on their worlds. When I asked why, he refused to tell me. He said he should not have mentioned it in the first place—that Explorers were not supposed to influence the people they met. He told me to forget it. But I did not forget. And if he ever comes back, he will see that I am a civilized person, not stupid at all.”
“So you…clear fields.”
“Yes.” Her voice was proud. “In addition to the machine that makes food, this city has machines for making many other things…if you know how to ask. I asked a toolmaking machine for such a blade as could cut down trees. The machine gave me a good blade indeed. So now I cut down trees every night, when no one is watching. I cut the wood into pieces that I can carry away, then I cover the stumps with grass and leaves.”
“You’ve been doing that ever since Jelca left?”
“Yes. It is hard work, but when he comes back, he will be sorry he did not understand how civilized I am.”
“I’m sure he will.”
Our probes had reported this area was too clear of trees. All the work of one woman? Could one person cut enough forest that it was noticeable from space? Amazing. And all on the strength of a slip of Jelca’s tongue.
Oar sat on the edge of the fountain, dribbles of water pouring down her arms, her shoulders, her face.
“My sister has never cut a tree in her life,” she said.
“Which proves she isn’t civilized?”
“That is correct.” Oar smiled. “Come, Festina. I will show you Jelca’s house.”
Prototypes
“This is where Laminir Jelca chose to live,” Oar said. But she didn’t have to tell me that.
While touring the village, I had peeked into several glass buildings, all bare of any adornment except dust. The blockhouse we had just entered was different: strewn with discarded circuit boards, coils of wire, and stripped insulation. A small fraction of the material must have come from the Technocracy—I recognized a familiar D-thread chip, straight out of a tightsuit pressure monitor—but most of it was native to Melaquin.
It was easy to tell the difference: all the Melaquin components were clear and transparent. Nudging a see-through cable with my toe, I wanted to growl, “Haven’t you people heard of copper?”
Jelca probably felt the same way—after all, he had to work with the stuff. Many of the glasslike parts were labeled in thick black letters from the marker pen all Explorers carry: RESISTOR, 10 OHMS…FUSE, AT LEAST 15 AMPS…BAD TUNNEL-TUBE, DO NOT USE! How he had identified these things, I couldn’t imagine; but as I said before, Jelca came from a line of dabblers in electronics. With the aid of his Bumbler, he could analyze almost anything, given enough patience…and enough duplicate parts for the times he guessed wrong.
“Did he explain what he was making?” I asked Oar.
“Foolish things,” she answered. “He claimed he could make a machine to talk to people far away…and a version of our food maker machine, only small enough to carry.”
Practical thinking on Jelca’s part: a radio and a nutrient synthesizer. That gave him a way to contact other marooned Explorers, and the means to feed himself while he traveled to wherever the others were. After a moment, I corrected myself—the means to feed himself and Ullis, plus Oar’s sister if she was traveling with them. It would take a big synthesizer to produce enough food for three people…but if Oar’s sister was as strong as Oar, she might have no trouble carrying heavy equipment for hours on end.
Carefully I prowled the room, examining everything Jelca had made