“I never asked that question. I always knew the answer.”
“I’m just reminding myself after the recent election.”
“Does it bother you that you’re not doing important things anymore?”
Her dark-eyed gaze flashed him a question. “This is just as important.”
On his comm, Jess received a summons to the offices. He and Cesca kicked off toward the near wall, wondering what business had called them now. When they arrived in the network of chambers carved out of the comet wall, they found a stern-looking Olaf Reeves, his son Dale, and several other Roamers waiting for them. They all wore the same clan embroidery on their old-fashioned jumpsuits.
“We’ve come to take our children back,” Olaf said. “Per our agreement.”
Cesca was alarmed. “Is something wrong with the instruction?”
Dale started to speak, glanced at his father, then fell silent. Olaf said, “We can teach them what they need to know. Clan Reeves is going to pack up from Rendezvous and head out to a new home.” He seemed defiant.
Dale Reeves added in a low voice, “We want to be like the old clans, the families that came off the Kanaka. We’re self-sufficient, and we won’t be beholden to anyone.”
Cesca let out a slow sigh and turned to Jess. “How many Reeves children are at Academ?” Even he didn’t know offhand.
Olaf glanced at Dale, who answered, “My two sons Jamie and Scott and seven others, total. When we agreed to let you teach our children, it was on the condition that any parent could take their child away for whatever reason.”
“Yes, that was the agreement—I wasn’t arguing,” Jess said. “Academ is for all Roamers, but they have to come here by choice.”
They called the clan Reeves children to the headquarters office. The waiting felt awkward, and Dale looked as if he didn’t want to be there.
Cesca was troubled. “We’re sad to see them go. I wish you’d reconsider.”
Olaf’s ire was clearly directed elsewhere. “It’s not either of you. You aren’t those new self-centered Roamers, the ones who attend meetings and run for office rather than feel the joy of building something, strengthening a clan, and remembering who we are.”
“Where will you go?” Cesca asked.
“Rendezvous for a while, until we finish our preparations,” Olaf said. “Then we’ll go far away.”
Dale added, “It’s a secret, but once our settlement is established, we may make contact again.”
“Or not,” Olaf said. “If we need extra supplies, we have an agreement with Kett Shipping.”
Teacher compies entered the office chamber leading nine children, some of them dripping wet from swimming. The boys and girls looked confused. When Dale’s two sons saw their father, they bounced forward, happy. “Are we going home?” asked the younger of the two.
BO presented herself. “Could we please know what is happening? This interrupts my class activities.”
Cesca hugged the nine Reeves children, one by one. “You’re going back with your clan. We’ll miss you.” Her eyes were sparkling. “Go pack your things.”
Jess turned to the clan leader. “Do you have instructors where you’re going? I know clan Reeves doesn’t have many compies, but… I could offer you a Teacher model if that would help. BO, would you like to continue instructing this group of children?”
“Yes,” the compy said. “That is my reason for existence.”
Skeptical, Olaf stroked his bushy beard and then conceded. “As long as she knows Roamer history.”
“I am an expert in Roamer history,” BO said.
“Good enough, then. Come with us.”
THIRTY
PATRICK FITZPATRICK III
When Del Kellum showed up at the Golgen skymine for a surprise—and probably extended—visit, Patrick Fitzpatrick made the best of it.
He got along well enough with his father-in-law, considering. After all, Zhett had put up with Patrick’s grandmother, the Old Battleaxe, who had threatened to disown him and call down the authorities on the Roamer girl he’d fallen in love with. Ah, romance had its charms!
Del Kellum arrived without making any prior arrangements, expecting the skymine operators to drop everything and accommodate him. He flew across the gas giant’s high wisps of cloud and called for a landing spot in the skymine’s main industrial bay. “And what is your business here, sir?” asked a young man at the comm station, newly assigned to the task. Too young, Patrick thought.
“I’m Del Kellum, by damn! Just clear a spot for me. I know that skymine like the back of my hand—and I am very familiar with the back of my hand.”
Patrick had been in the upper control dome, inspecting the flow readings from the station’s numerous process lines. The crew chiefs sent him regular updates. Even though everything was nominal, Del Kellum would probably have plenty of suggestions on how to “fix” things.
Zhett hurried in from their quarters with Rex propped on her hip, connecting the toddler’s harness to a small antigrav battery; when she released him, Rex bobbed along at her side like a tethered balloon. Her face was flushed. “It’s always good to see my father.” Her tone sounded weary rather than excited.
“From a distance,” Patrick said. Zhett elbowed him.
Because it was a big shipping day for ekti, the skymine’s industrial bay didn’t have a berth for an unscheduled ship. Zhett got on the comm and instructed her father to land on one of the upper skydecks. “If you can handle it, Dad—it’ll take some careful flying.”
He made a rude noise and clicked off.
His ship took up two-thirds of the cramped skydeck, but he landed in perfect position. As soon as the big man descended from the ramp, Zhett ran forward to give her father a hug with a bobbing Rex in tow. Patrick shook the older man’s hand. “Good to see you, sir.”
Del clapped him on the back, but was more interested in scooping up his grandson. “Just came from Newstation and the election of the new Speaker. I had to be there for appearances, but what a cluster-fart!”
“Sam Ricks won, we heard,” Zhett said.
“Lee Iswander lost. Nobody imagines Ricks is qualified, but after the Sheol disaster…” Del made a silly noise at Rex, which caused the boy to giggle. He handed the toddler off to Zhett, who passed him to Patrick. “I needed an excuse to clear my brain, and what better excuse than to come see all my grandchildren?”
“Two of your grandchildren,” Zhett said. “Shareen won’t be back from Earth for a couple of days yet.”
“Then I’ll just have to stay long enough to see my favorite granddaughter. If the invitation stands?”
Patrick gave Zhett a What can you do? look. “Of course it stands.”
“Don’t know why you sent her to Earth, though. That girl needs Roamer training, not fancy impractical academics.”
“She needs both,” Patrick said. “But I agree she’ll do better in a Roamer environment. A formalized class curriculum isn’t Shareen’s strong point.”
“She belongs at Fireheart Station,” Del announced. “Have her spend a year with Kotto Okiah—let her thrive. She has so much potential.”
Zhett smiled as they made their way to the top of the skymine, because Del would want to inspect the skymine’s activity. “Knowing Shareen, I think she’d end up teaching Kotto a few things.”
Inside the control dome, the shift crew studied the ekti-reactor output and the gas densities in Golgen’s cloud layers, as detected by dangling probe antennas. Pilots adjusted the directional output from the exhaust stacks to keep the big facility wandering along.
Del marched to one of the embedded screens to call up a summary and frowned when his old password didn’t work. Without hesitation, he nudged aside one of the techs, accessed the system, then raised his eyebrows at Zhett. “That’s an impressive production number, by damn. Up fifteen percent from my day. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that the drogues aren’t harassing you anymore.”