Hidden Empire - Kevin J. Anderson [66]
"Yes, and he wants you to go to bed as much as I do. Now don't make this as difficult as you did yesterday." Grudgingly, the little girl complied.
At night, still tethered to its stand, the condorfly would crawl through the window and fly as far as the leash would allow it. In the morning, Celli would reel it in. Luckily, condorflies had relatively short life spans, so her sister's dependence upon this mindless pet would last no more than a month or two.
All day long, the little girl was a bundle of energy, running and leaping, chattering with friends, playing various games. She had more foolish courage than common sense. By the age of ten, Celli had had her share of broken bones from various falls and scrapes. Her tomboy body was an ever-changing pattern of scabs and skinned knees, scratches, bruises, and scrapes.
Sarein often grew impatient with her, but then told herself that Celli would grow up. Eventually. Estarra, two years older, seemed well on her way to making proper decisions. Sarein's greatest hope was that she and her siblings, in one generation, could change Theroc and bring these backwater people out of their prehistoric naïveté and into the thriving community of the Spiral Arm.
Finally, after a perfunctory hug and kiss, Sarein closed the door and walked through glow-lit corridors. Reynald was due to return soon from his peregrination, and Sarein hoped he had made inroads with powerful figures. She couldn't wait to hear her brother's description of the Ildiran court and wondered what he might have accomplished on Earth by meeting with Basil.
Mother Alexa and Father Idriss had gone to the higher levels of the city, where they would watch a festive performance of talented gymnastic treedancers. Sarein had been invited to see the skilled leaping and tumbling among the springy interlocked fronds, but she had no interest. Estarra had been forced to go to the festival, but she would probably slip off by herself to climb the rugged layers of the fungus reef. Sarein sighed at her family's aloofness. They had so many resources and opportunities—yet they seemed not to care. They simply lived from day to day, oblivious to the rest of human civilization, satisfied with what they had.
She entered her quarters, increased the illumination, and sat at her polymer-fabricated desk imported from Earth. She had many official records and contracts to study. It discouraged her that Idriss and Alexa insisted on ignoring the Hansa's greater commercial possibilities. Perhaps she could find loopholes in old agreements, as Basil had taught her to do.
She ran a hand over her short dark hair, combed and cut in a popular Earth style. In her wardrobe, she kept many traditional Theron gowns and scarves, adorned with broken bits of condorfly wings and polished insect shells, but Sarein preferred the comfortable clothing she had brought from her year of study on Earth. Theron trappings were too provincial for her tastes.
The first documents before her were Rlinda Kett's revised proposal for trading Theron products. Sarein scowled, reminded again of her parents' stubborn refusal to grasp an obvious opportunity. The merchant had made excellent arguments, and Sarein had continued to press Idriss and Alexa in their private chambers. But she could not convince the two that Theroc should join the Hansa, regardless of how many doors it would open for them.
Bearded Idriss had looked at his daughter as if she were a child. "Giving up independence is not a thing one should do lightly. What have we to gain compared with all that we can lose?"
Sarein felt as if she were speaking to an incomprehensible alien. No, she thought, even Ildirans would be more sensible in this matter.
She tapped her stylus on the electronic document, pondering the future of her world and dismayed at how difficult this supposedly simple task was going to be. She might need help.
Sarein thought wistfully of dashing Basil Wenceslas and all she had learned under the suave Chairman's gentle guidance. Basil was much older than she, but