Miles, Mutants and Microbes - Lois McMaster Bujold [35]
"I mean Brucie-baby. You can't tell me you've been around the man for what, eleven months, and not figured that out."
"I thought it was me—something wrong with me . . ." Silver's voice was still small and teary, but her eyes began to brighten with a sort of pre-dawn light. She overcame her inner miseries enough to regard Leo with increased attention. ". . . Brucie-baby?"
"Huh." The memory of one of Dr. Yei's lectures about maintaining unified and consistent authority gave Leo pause. It had seemed to make great sense at the time. . . . "Never mind. But there's nothing wrong with you, Silver."
Her regard was sharpening to something almost scientific. "You're not afraid of him." Her tone of wonder suggested she found this an unexpected and remarkable discovery.
"Me? Afraid? Of Bruce Van Atta?" Leo snorted. "Not likely."
"When he first came, and took over Dr. Cay's position, I thought—thought he would be like Dr. Cay."
"Look, ah . . . there is a very ancient rule of thumb that states, people tend to get promoted to the level of their incompetence. So far I think I've managed to avoid that unenviable plateau. So, I gather, did your Dr. Cay." Screw Yei's scruples, Leo thought, and added bluntly, "Van Atta hasn't."
"Tony and Claire would never have tried to run away if Dr. Cay were still here." A straggling species of hope began in her eyes. "Are you saying you think this mess could be Mr. Van Atta's fault?"
Leo stirred uneasily, pronged by secret convictions he had not yet voiced even to himself. "Your s—, s—," slavery "situation seems intrinsically, intrinsically," wrong his mind supplied, while his mouth fishtailed, "susceptible to abuse, mishandling of all sorts. Because Dr. Cay was so passionately dedicated to your welfare—"
"Like a father to us," Silver confirmed sadly.
"—this, er, susceptibility remained latent. But sooner or later it's inevitable that someone begin to exploit it, and you. If not Van Atta, someone else down the line. Someone . . ." worse? Leo had read enough history. Yes. "Much worse."
Silver looked as if she was struggling to imagine something worse than Van Atta, and failing. She shook her head dolefully. She raised her face to Leo; eyes like morning glories, targeting the sun. The target, struck, jerked out an involuntary smile.
"What's going to happen now, to Tony and Claire? I tried not to give them away, but that stuff made me so woozy—it was dangerous for them before, and now it's worse. . . ."
Leo attempted a tone of bluff and hearty reassurance. "Nothing's going to happen to them, Silver. Don't let Bruce's snit spook you. There's not really much he can do to them. They're much too valuable to GalacTech. He'll yell at them, no doubt, and you can't blame him for that; I'm ready to yell at them myself. Security will pick them up downside—they can't have gone far—they'll get the lecture of their young lives, and in a few weeks it'll all blow over. Lessons learned," Leo faltered. Just what lessons would they learn from this fiasco? "—all around."
"You act like—like getting yelled at—was nothing."
"It comes with age," he offered. "Someday you'll feel that way too." Or was it power that this particular immunity came with? Leo was suddenly unsure. But he had no power to speak of, except the ability to build things. Knowledge as power. Yet who had power over him? The line of logic trailed off in confusion; he turned his thoughts impatiently from it. Mental wheel-spinning, as unproductive as philosophy class in college.
"I don't feel that way now," said Silver practically.
"Look, uh . . . tell you what. If it'll make you feel better, I'll go along downside when they locate those kids. Maybe I can kind of keep things under control."
"Oh, would you? Could you?" Silver asked with relief. "Like you were trying to help me?"
Leo felt like biting off his tongue. "Uh, yeah. Something like that."
"You're not afraid of Mr. Van Atta. You can stand up to him." Her eyebrows quirked self-deprecatingly, and she waved her lower arms. "As you can see, I'm not