Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [82]
“Or maybe they just want us to build their colony for them.” Clarin shook his head as he looked at the colony operations: the construction, the water-pumping stations, the solar-powered generators. “We keep arguing with the EDF civil engineers. They want to do things by the book, and therefore inefficiently. We’ve got better ideas, but they won’t let us use them.”
Tasia thought about the uninspired technology the military continued to use, when Roamers had improved on those designs and methods generations ago. “They have their own set ways.”
“Ah, what do I care?” Clarin continued. “I choose to believe we won’t be here long. The Big Goose can set up its own damn colony. Then when it all falls apart, they’ll still find a way to blame it on Roamer sabotage.”
Tasia bit her lower lip, relieved to be talking to someone with a similar background. “But the clans will need to find new places to live, too. Why not settle here, claim Llaro for yourselves, if you’ve earned it?”
Clarin scowled. “This place? As soon as we make it into a desirable world, the Big Goose will take over. Roamers are best at scraping out a living in miserable places. Ha! Do they think this planet is a challenge for us?”
They continued to pace the perimeter under a darkening sky. She finally got up the nerve to ask him what he’d heard of Jess, or her uncles, or any of her friends. Clarin didn’t have much information to share, but he did talk about Speaker Peroni’s brief betrothal to Reynald of Theroc, who had been killed in a recent hydrogue attack. Tasia knew that Jess had strong feelings for Cesca—or at least he had, many years ago. If her uncles were now running the Plumas water mines, that meant Jess must be gone. Somewhere.
As they reached the far edge of the temporary encampment, Tasia, EA, and Clarin came upon a confrontation between the Eddy guards and a group of Roamer children. A Governess compy had interposed herself between the soldiers and her wards. “You may not address my children in such a manner.” Tasia recognized the dedicated compy UR, who had been one of her own teachers at Rendezvous when she was a little girl.
“Those kids are unruly and dangerous,” one of the soldiers said. “We have to keep them away from the construction activities for their own safety.”
“I will guarantee their own safety,” UR said. “It is not your task.”
“Listen, compy, our task is whatever we decide it to be.”
“These children are my responsibility. You may not go near them. You may not command them. You may not even address them.”
Tasia bit back a laugh as she hurried forward. She outranked these Eddy babysitters anyway. She remembered her days of instruction with UR, and the Governess compy was still as stern and no-nonsense as always. “What’s going on here, Sergeant?”
The EDF guards looked up. Seeing Tasia’s rank insignia, they responded with satisfaction. Just glancing at her in the evening light, they couldn’t guess her Roamer heritage. She repressed the brief urge to punch them.
“This little compy is too big for her metal britches, Commander.”
“This little compy understands her place better than you do, Sergeant. By order of General Lanyan, the Roamer detainees are to be interfered with as little as possible. Minimal harassment. Let them do as they please.”
“But Commander, it’s dark outside. Shouldn’t those children be in bed? The Roamers can’t just—”
“The Governess compy can take care of these children. She teaches them and assures their welfare. Their parents trusted her with their sons and daughters when Rendezvous was destroyed. She’s fully capable of determining appropriate responses to various situations. On the other hand, if you and your men have nothing worthwhile to do, I’m sure I can find some ditches that need to be dug by hand. Or manual inspection of cesspits, perhaps?”
Once dismissed, the surprised soldiers hurried off, keeping their muttered comments just short of insubordination.
Roberto Clarin