"No exceptions? Not even for a Scientist's Apprentice?"
"Don't worry, you'll go," Klance chuckled.
Lawri had turned away, showing her bowed back, the wealth of blonde hair floating around her. He wondered then: How would Lawri have children? The Scientist didn't seem to be her lover; the Grad knew that he imported copsik women from the in tuft. If she never left the Citadel-How would Lawri ever find a man?
Me?
A copsik could have children, but Lawri could not. It couldn't be helped. He dared not think of Lawri as other than an enemy.
There was flesh against her as she woke. It happened often. Minya shifted position and refrained from wrapping her arms around the citizen who slept beside her. She might hurt him.
Her motion wakened him. He turned carefully-his arm was bound with cloth against his torso-and said, "Good morning."
"Good morning. How's your arm?" She searched her memory for his name.
"You did a good job on it, but it'll heal."
"I wondered why you came looking for me, given that I broke it."
He scowled. "You stuck in my head. While Lawri was setting the bone I kept seeing your face, two ce'meters away with your teeth bared like you were going for my throat next…yeah. So I'm here." The scowl relaxed. "Under, eh, different circumstances."
"Better now?"
"Yes."
His name surfaced. "Karal. I don't remember a Lawri."
"Lawri's not a copsik. She's the Scientist's Apprentice-one of his apprentices, now-and she treats Navy men if we get hurt."
One of his apprentices? Minya gambled. "I hear the new one is a copsik."
"Yes. I saw him from a distance, and he's not a jungle giant. One of yours?"
"Maybe." She stood, donned her poncho. "Will we meet again?"
He hesitated—"Maybe" — and added, "The Holidays are eight sleeps away."
She let her smile show through. Gavving: "How long do they last?"
"Six days. And all work stops."
"Well, I have to get to work now."
Karal disappeared into the foliage while Minya strolled into the Commons She missed Dalton-Quinn Tuft. She'd grown almost used to the obtrusive differences: the huge Commons, the omnipresent supervisors, hen own servility. But little things bothered her. She missed cupvines, and copter plants. Nothing grew here but the foliage and the carefully cultivated earthlife, beans and melons and corn and tobacco, as thoroughly regimented as herself.
A dozen copsiks were up and stirring. Minya looked for Jinny and spotted her at the treemouth, just her head showing above the foliage as she fed the tree.
The schedules were loose. If you arrived late, you would work late.
Beyond that, the supervisors didn't care much…but Minya cared!
She would do nothing badly. She would be an exemplary copsik, until the time came to be something else.
She tried to remember nuances of Karal's speech. A citizen's accent was odd, and she had been practicing it.
It had been strange for Minya. Her instincts were at war: a conditioned reflex that resisted sexual assault as blasphemy incarnate, versus the will to live.
Survival won. She would do nothing badly!
Jinny stood up, set her poncho in order, then sprinted west.
Minya screamed. She was too far to do anything but shout and point as she ran. A pair of supervisors, much closer, saw what was happening and ran too.
Jinny plunged through a last screen of foliage, into the sky.
Minya kept running. The supervisors (Haryet and Dloris, hardfaced jungle giants of indeterminate age) had reached the edge. Dloris swung a weighted line round her head, twice and out. Haryet waited her turn, then swung her own line while Dloris pulled. The line resisted as she pulled it in, then gave abruptly. Dioris reeled back, off balance.
Minya reached the edge in time to see the stone at the end of Haryet's line spin round Jinny. Dionis threw her line while Jinny was still fighting Haryet's. Jinny thrashed, then went limp.
Haryet pulled her in.
Jinny huddled on her side, face buried in her arms and knees. By now they were surrounded by copsiks. While Dlonis gestured them away, Haryet rolled Jinny on her back, groped for hen chin, and pulled her face out of the protection of her arms. Jinny's eyes stayed clenched like fists
Minya said, "Madam Supervisor, a moment of your attention."
Dionis looked around, surprised at the snap in Minya's voice. "Later," she said.
Jinny began to sob. The sobs shook her like Dalton-Quinn Tree had shaken the day it came apart. Haryet watched for a time, impassively.
Then she spread a second poncho oven the girl and sat down to watch hen.
Dionis turned to Minya. 'What is it?"
"If Jinny tries this again and succeeds, would it reflect badly on you?"
"It might. Well?"
"Jinny's twin sister is with the women who carry guests. Jinny has to see her."
"That's forbidden," the jungle giantess said wearily.
When citizens talked like that, Minya had learned to ignore them.
"These girls are twins. They've been together all their lives. They should be given some hours to talk."
"I told you, it's forbidden."
"That would be your problem."
Dlonis glared in exasperation. "Go join the garbage detail. No, wait.
First talk to this Jinny, if she'll talk."
"Yes, Supervisor. And I'd like to be checked for pregnancy, at your convenience."
"Later."
Minya bent to speak directly into Jinny's ear. "Jinny, it's Minya. I've talked to Dlonis. She'll try to get you together with Jayan."
Jinny was clenched like a knot.
"Jinny. The Grad made it. He's at the Citadel, where the Scientist lives."
Nothing.
"Just hang on, will you? Hang on. Something will happen. Talk to
Jayan. See if she's learned anything." Treefodder, there must be something she could say…"Find out where the pregnant women are kept. See if the Grad even comes down to examine them. He might. Tell him we're hanging on. Waiting."
Jinny didn't move. Hen voice was muffled. "All right, I'm listening. But I can't stand it. I can't."
"You're tougher than you think."
"If another man picks me, I'll kill him."
Some of them like women who fight, Minya thought. She said instead,
"Wait. Wait till we can kill them all."
After a long time, Jinny uncurled and stood up.
Chapter Sixteen
Rumblings of Mutiny
GAVVING WOKE TO A TOUCH ON HIS SHOULDER. HE LOOKED about him without moving.
There were three tiers of hammocks, and Gavving's was in the top layer. The daylit doorway made a black silhouette of a supervisor. He seemed to have fallen asleep standing up: easy enough in London Tree's gentle tide. In the dimness of the barracks, Alfin clung to Gavving's haimmock-post. He spoke in a whisper that wanted to shout in jubilation.
"They've put me to work at the treemouth!"
"I thought only women did that," Gavving said without moving at all. Jorg snored directly below him-a "gentled" man, pudgy and sad, and too stupid to spy on anyone. But the hammocks were close-packed.
"I saw the farm when they took us for showers. There's a lot they're doing wrong. I talked to a supervisor about it. He let me talk to the woman who runs the farm. Kor's her name, and she listens. I'm a consultant."
"Good."
"Give me a couple of hundred days and I might get you in on it too. I want to show what I can do first."
"Did you get a chance to speak to Minya? Or Jinny?"