Many members of the audience turned toward Iswander, and he forced himself to remain calm, turning his annoyance back on the gruff clan leader.
Olaf ignored him. “Lee Iswander is only a symptom, not the cause. It isn’t just his industries—it’s all of you. My clan cannot tolerate the direction the Roamers are going. You’ve sold yourselves out to the Big Goose.”
“It’s the Confederation, Mr. Reeves,” Iswander said. “The Hansa is long gone.”
“Different name, but no different in the ways that matter. You’ve all lost what you really are. Everything handed to you, nothing earned. Easy lives, full bank accounts, peaceful settlements, pampered homes.” He jabbed his finger in the air as he made a pronouncement. “A knife loses its edge unless it is sharpened. And you have all become very dull indeed.” He shook his shaggy head.
“My clan found a place outside the Confederation and away from the Ildiran Empire. We are going to pack up and leave the Rendezvous site, make our own lives far away.” He gestured insultingly toward Iswander. “It’s your problem now.” With exaggerated bustle and disruption, Olaf Reeves and his family members worked their way out of the seats and left the chamber.
Isha Seward made light of the incident. “That was an unusual introduction to our official proceedings. Now it’s time to elect my successor.”
She called upon Sam Ricks to cast the first vote, for himself, of course. Next, she turned to Iswander, who cast his vote, and the chamber was filled with an immensity of silence.
Iswander listened to one member after another say the name of Sam Ricks, most of them with little enthusiasm. He just endured. In his chest, this heavy disgrace felt as spectacular as the disaster on Sheol.
After Speaker Seward called upon every clan head, Iswander had received only a single vote, the one he had cast for himself.
TWENTY-NINE
JESS TAMBLYN
Parked in orbit next to Newstation, the hollow comet of Academ was a sheltered school complex for Roamer children, but its exotic internal waterfalls made it seem more like a playground—at least that was how Jess and Cesca tried to portray it for the kids.
Roamers needed to solve problems on the fly more than they needed the drudgery of book learning. Computers and compies could do the brute-force calculations and implementation, but Roamers had to have the ideas. Jess’s greatest wisdom came from his personal experiences, desperate problems he fixed, crises he endured. Survival, he had found, was an excellent teaching tool.
Now, drifting in the comet’s zero-gravity central grotto, he used a squirt of compressed air to meet up with Cesca Peroni. They both hung in the open watching a group of children, eight or nine years old, being instructed by the Teacher compy BO. With her deep female voice, BO was programmed to sound matronly and protective. Male-voiced Teacher compies sounded more erudite and professorial, and Jess had found that the students listened better when BO spoke.
Drifting, Cesca snagged Jess’s waistband and gave him a kiss, which naturally made the children laugh. Jess gave the class a mock glare. “This isn’t funny. You should learn from it. Here, let me demonstrate again… like so.”
He gave Cesca a longer kiss this time, slow, but not too passionate, before she pushed him away, saying, “Good to see you’ve still got it after twenty years.”
“Oh, we started before that,” Jess teased. “Even without the wentals inside us anymore, I feel energized.”
When he mentioned the water elementals, Jess saw the faint illumination in the ice walls brighten. The controlled wental presence within the comet made Academ come alive, and the sparkle was ubiquitous. The lingering wentals could be felt, not just by Jess and Cesca who were all too familiar with the energy touch, but by the young students as well. It made Academ a magical place.
Cesca was the former Speaker of the clans, before Del Kellum, before Isha Seward. During the height of the Elemental War, Jess had become infused with wentals, his cells filled with such deadly energy that he was unable to touch another person, not even Cesca, whom he loved—until she also took the water elementals into herself. She and Jess had exhausted all their powers in the final battles against the faeros, leaving both of them normal again—although not quite. They longed for a family of their own, but the wental possession had transformed them, rendering them unable to have children.
When Roamers established Newstation to replace the rubble of Rendezvous, Jess and Cesca had proposed creating a school for clan children. A group of ambitious clan engineers had captured a wandering comet as it passed the planet Auridia, then towed it into orbit next to Newstation to provide water, fuel, and air resources. Excavations hollowed out the comet’s core, leaving a huge empty grotto. Administrative offices, classrooms, labs, and dwelling units were drilled into the walls.
When the structure was ready, Jess and Cesca had released the tamed wentals into the ice. The water elementals had learned how not to contaminate others who came in contact with their energy. Now, waterfalls sprang from floor to ceiling and side to side, flowing in the zero gravity and guided by controlled elemental force. A spherical lake tumbled and rotated at the heart of Academ.
Hundreds of students attended classes to learn about life in harsh environments, to train on high-tech equipment, and to study politics and Roamer history. The classes were led by dozens of Teacher compies, as well as guest speakers from various Roamer clans who volunteered their time during temporary assignments at Newstation.
After Jess’s interruption, BO continued teaching. “We were talking about the original construction of Rendezvous as a stopping-off point for the generation ship Kanaka. That was the start of the Roamer way of life.” The students stared up at the central spherical lake, restless. BO said in a scolding tone, “Pay attention, children. It is important for you to have the basics of your history.”
Cesca gave Jess an indulgent smile, explaining, “They’re distracted. I told the kids they could go swimming after the lecture.”
The class cheered, but Jess responded with an exaggerated frown. “Swimming? What could be more fun than a lecture?”
He and Cesca loved watching the boys and girls from different clans gathered here to learn about their varied homes: space stations, asteroid mines, nebula skimmers, greenhouse domes, skymines on gas giants, rugged planetary settlements, even a rare few on worlds that were actually pleasant.
Jess wondered why Roamers always chose to do the most difficult thing. It seemed to be a genetic stubbornness. The clans had lived in the shadows for a long time, driven to settle in places no one else wanted—first because they were forced to, and then by choice, because Roamers were proud and wanted to show that they didn’t need pampering. Now, with the Spiral Arm at peace and more planets available than could ever accommodate the Confederation’s population, the necessity was gone. But Jess didn’t think Roamers would abandon their risky ways—even after the recent disaster on Sheol.
When BO finished her historical lecture, the children remained silent and attentive, though it was clearly an act. Ending her lesson, BO said, “Now it is time for us to begin our aquatic instruction. You will learn about fluid dynamics, parabolic arcs, surface tension, and hydrostatics—”
The children cried out, “Swimming!”
The Teacher compy took the students to the suspended body of water, while Cesca remained with Jess. “To answer your question,” Cesca said, “no I don’t regret retiring as Speaker for the clans.”