“Maybe that’s why we can’t find anyone who says it for themselves, Jo.”
Ravna listened to the back and forth. What can I say to this that I haven’t said before? But she could not keep silent: “When these deniers say ‘we can’t really know,’ that is a lie. I know. I was at Relay, working for Vrinimi Org. The Blight was doing evil almost half a year before Oobii took flight. It spread out from your High Lab, probably within a few hours of your escape. It took over the Top of the Beyond. I could read about it in the news. With Vrinimi’s resources I could follow the destruction in detail, the Blight killing whomever it pleased. The thing took over Straumli Realm. It destroyed Relay. It chased Pham and me and the Skroderiders down here, and the wake of that pursuit killed Sjandra Kei and most of the humans in the Beyond.” These were things she had told them again and again and again. “The defense against the Blight wasn’t undertaken until we arrived here. Yes, what Pham and Countermeasure did was horrendous—more so than we can measure. Countermeasure did strand us. But it stopped the Blight and it left us with a chance. Those are facts that are being denied. They are not something beyond knowing. I was there.”
And all around the table, these Children now grown up were nodding respectfully.
Chapter 06
Ravna had plenty of time to think about that terrible surprise at the Sign of the Mantis. More accurately, she couldn’t think about anything else. Everything she’d ever said or done looked different now that she imagined it through the eyes of the Deniers.
In the beginning, the Children had all lived in the New Castle on Starship Hill, just a hundred meters from the academy. The youngest ones still lived there with older siblings or Best Friend packs. Most of the others—grown and with the beginnings of families—lived on Hidden Island or in the string of houses south of the New Castle.
But Ravna still lived aboard the starship Out of Band II—thirty thousand tonnes of unflyable junk, but with technology from the stars.
She must seem crazed and remote, hunkered down aboard the supreme power in this world.
But I have to be here! For the Oobii had a small library, and Ravna was a librarian. The tiny onboard archive comprised the technological tricks of myriads Slow Zone races. Humankind on Earth had taken four thousand years to go from the smelting of iron to interstellar travel. That had been more or less a random walk. In the wars and catastrophes that followed, humans were like most races. They had blown themselves back to the medieval many times, and sometimes to the Neolithic, and, on a few worlds, even to extinction. But—at least where humankind survived at all—the way back to technology had been no random walk. Once the archeologists dug up the libraries, renaissance was a matter of a few centuries. With Oobii, she could cut that recovery time down to less than a century. To thirty years, if bad luck will just stay out of my way!
That afternoon, at the Sign of the Mantis, bad luck showed it had been around all the time. How could this have blindsided me? Ravna asked herself that question again and again. The Children had always been full of questions. Many times over the years, she and the Tines had told them the story of the Battle on Starship Hill, and the history before. They all had walked around Murder Meadows, seen how the land looked when Lord Steel had killed half the Children. But they had only Ravna’s words about other half of the battle, how Pham had stopped the Blighter fleet and the price that had been paid. The Children had always had lots of questions about that, and about what had happened to their parents at the beginning of the disaster. The Children had gone from a world with families and friends, to waking up surrounded by Tines and a single human adult. All they had was her word about what had made that happen. Foolish Ravna, she had thought that that would be enough.
Now the Children had more than doubts. Now they had something called the Disaster Study Group.
Just hours after the Sign of the Mantis, she and Johanna and Jefri (and Amdi of course) had another chat. These were the first two kids Ravna had met Down Here. Ten years ago, they had shared a terrible few hours. Ever since, Ravna had felt they had a special relationship—even when Jefri hit his teenage years and seemed lost to all reason.
Now Johanna was livid about the Disaster Study Group—but even more angry with Jefri, since he hadn’t told her of the group’s latest lies.
Jefri had flared right back at her. “You want to go on a witch hunt, Jo? You want to flush out everyone who believes some part of the DSG claims? That would be just about everybody, you know.” He paused, his glance flickering doubtfully in Ravna’s direction. “I don’t mean the worst of it, Ravna. We know you and Pham were good guys.”
Ravna had nodded, trying to look calm. “I know. I can see how natural some of the doubting is.” Yeah she could see, with brilliant hindsight. “I just wish I had known before.”
Johanna bowed her head. “I’m sorry I never talked to you about this. The DSG says some despicable things, but both Nevil and I thought it was so nuts it would just die away. Now, the whole thing seems much more organized.” She cast a look at Jefri. They were back on the Oobii’s bridge, a good place for very small, very private meetings. Amdi was out of sight, hiding around under the furniture. “You and Amdi obviously knew that the DSG has turned a whole lot more nasty.”
Jefri started to snap back, then gave a reluctant nod. In fact, Ravna suddenly realized, he looked ashamed. Jefri had the same stubbornness as his sister; he just frittered it away on aimless frustration. Their parents were the closest thing to heroes in the sorry High Lab mess. They had worked miracles to get the kids here. When Jefri finally spoke, his voice was soft. “Yeah. But like Øvin said, the worst of the claims are just third-hand … repeated by foolish people like Gannon Jorkenrud.”
Johanna shook her head. “Why do you still hang out with that loser?”
“Hei! Gannon was my friend at the Lab, okay? I could talk to him about things even the teachers didn’t understand. Maybe now he is a loser, but…”
Johanna’s angry expression shifted to frank worry. “This is too much, Jef. Suddenly DSG seems like a real threat.”
Jefri shrugged. “I don’t know, Jo. The latest stuff just sort of popped up, one or two people on Meri’s expedition, then more when I got back here. And even if there is a conspiracy, putting pressure on the likes of Gannon is only going to make the Executive Council look thuggish—and Gannon might just start accusing people he’s got it in for. He’s got a mean streak.”
Ravna nodded. “How about this, Jefri: Maybe this is complaining based on legitimate issues—issues I do intend to address, by the way. But maybe this is the doing of a clique of older Children planning some kind of mayhem and exaggerating the real issues for their own ends. You are in a position to find out which is which. Everybody knows, um, that you—”
Jefri’s glance flickered at Johanna, and the boy grinned. He’d always had a nice smile. “Don’t be shy,” he said. “Everyone knows I’ve been a bloody asshole. Still am sometimes. Part of my refugee angst, y’know.”
“In any case,” said Ravna, “people seem quite happy to confide in you. If you act sympathetic toward this evil nonsense, and if there really is a Denier conspiracy, I’ll bet they will approach you more directly. Is this a role that, ah, you’d—”
“You mean, will I find out which of my friends might be behind this and rat them out?” There was no venom in his words, but Jefri didn’t look happy. Fortunately, Johanna remained quiet, keeping to herself any sisterly harangues. Finally, he shook his head. “Yeah. I’ll do it. I still don’t think there is any real conspiracy, but if there is, I’ll find it.”