“But it’s our parish hall, next to our fine old church,” the old priest put in.
The lowlanders glanced at their leader. At a nod from him, they backed slowly toward their chairs and sat again. Under the stern eye of the priest, the village folk returned to their seats.
The proud man stayed on his feet. “You may talk all you want, but there is a ship in orbit above Santa Maria. It brought a lot of mining gear that we are already putting to use. Metal is pouring from mountains like we have not seen since the survivors landed on this planet. More mining gear will be brought in on the next two ships, gear that will break the Stirling’s monopoly on metals for our economy.”
“And who’s to own all this nice, fine metal?” someone from the back of the room asked.
“Several companies are being set up. Some are registered on Wardhaven, some here. We’ve passed mining laws that set a tariff on all minerals extracted that will go into the common budget for improvements. Everything is going to change.”
“But they want my daughter for all this,” the father said, not even rising from his chair.
“Do they want all three of the children on this first ship?” the old priest asked.
“No. They were quite specific on that. One child only on each of the first three ships. They don’t want to risk more than one of them on any voyage.”
“So space travel ain’t so easy as they said, not at all, at all,” came again from somewhere in the room.
“Colonel Ray Longknife was straightforward with us all,” the padre said for all to hear. “They were lost and needed our help as much as they were helping us. Yes, star walking is not a sure thing, but we on Santa Maria wouldn’t be here if it were.”
That got the room nodding along with the priest.
In the back of the room, a black figure moved from the door to a chair. Young Father Ian, to be sure, Father Joseph noted. The parish now had two priests. The bishop had said it was to lighten Joseph’s load, but the old priest knew the truth of it even if His Lordship the Bishop would not say it to his face.
He was old, and soon he’d be laying down his old bones in the parish graveyard beside his wife’s and their infant son and daughter. The years had been hard, and Joseph could not say that he was all that averse to laying down his burdens.
But what of his grandson? David had been left to his care for the five years since his older son and his wife had passed when a sudden storm took the bridge out and them on it. They’d never recovered their bodies, so only a stone remembered them in the yard behind the church.
The young priest was a good man, not one of the city types but a boy from the hills, raised not three villages over. He was fitting in well with the folks of Hazel Dell.
That made up the old priest’s mind. He stood, and the room fell silent.
“The brave colonel did not stint in what he gave us, and now he asks for something from us in return. My brave boy, David, has said he’s willing to go, and I am inclined to let him walk among the stars and see what they are offering him to see. However, while I trust Colonel Longknife with my own life, I will not trust my grandson’s care to anyone that may pass him by,” he said, giving the eye to the proud, bold commander of the guards.
“So, I have a mind to go with my grandson and see that he is well taken care of.”
That brought on a storm in the hall. Yes, it did indeed.
A good fifteen minutes later, when much had been said that would have to be forgotten, it was generally agreed that yes, Father Ian might be a good priest, but he’d never fill Father Joseph’s shoes, but yes, it might be time to let him try his hand at the parish.
Still, Father Joseph would ever be missed, and was it a good idea to let him and his fine young grandson go walking among the stars?
“My mind is made up on this,” Father finally said, hugging his grandson and getting a hug right back.
“Thank you, Grandda,” David whispered in his ear.
“But what of the others? They are all of them young and in need of someone to stand between them and the likes of these,” the mayor said, putting no fine edge on the topic at hand.
“May I say something?” came from a redheaded and freckled young man who’d come early but taken a chair against the wall.
Brennan was a strange one. It had been clear to his elders that they’d never make a farmer of him. He might do something well one moment, then lose everything as his mind wandered off to woolgather. And the village having no sheep, the wool he gathered was always made of clouds and vapor.
So they’d let him try his hand at other trades about the village. He’d proven too light of arm and frame to stand beside the village smith. He had, however, shown a fine hand with a fiddle and harp.
That got him apprenticed to the village singer and harpist. She was amazed at how quickly he learned the songs, and even began memorizing the laws and the exceptions to each one of them. He’d been well on his way to becoming a bard when the spacers came.
And they ruined everything for the young man.
They’d taken him into their employ, and he’d seen much of what they knew of the worlds and what made them turn. He might have left with them, but his old mother was in her final illness. He’d stayed behind at her side.
Father Joseph pointed his hand at the young man, having a strong idea what was about to be said. Brennan did not disappoint.
“I would be willing to stand assist to young Jon, since he has no close family to stand as his young right arm and see that he is well taken care of.”
Not if Jon’s aunt had any say in the matter. She was quickly on her feet. But Jon moved faster, running to the side of the young troubadour.
“I would go with him to the stars. I’ve seen them. I want to walk among them,” the ten-year-old said. “You have nothing here for me but memories of those I’ve lost. Please. Let me go.”
That seemed to settle the matter for those two.
“But can a youngster like Brennan stand as a protector to anyone so young?” the aunt asked. “Can he even stand as a protector for himself?”
That brought assent to many a throat in the hall.
“You may be right,” the young Brennan said, “but I won’t be going alone. Father Joseph will be going, and we are going to Colonel Ray Longknife. He’s a right strong man, and I can’t see all that many willing to stand before his glower. Can you, Father?”
“Not hardly. Not at all, at all,” the old priest agreed. “If Brennan can’t stand between Jon and ill-usage, then he will know how to get to the colonel, or to me, and I assure you I will get to the colonel through storm, wrack, and ruin.”
That seemed to settle it.
The bold uniformed commander said that would fill the first two ships and he could wait for a bit on filling the third. Father Joseph took Brennan and Jon aside, and it was soon decided that those two would go on the first ship.
The old priest was glad of that. It would give him more time to say his good-byes to friends of a lifetime. Brennan and Jon left to pack their few things, and a keg of beer was tapped and many a mug passed around.
The edge came off the bold uniformed commander and his men. Before the second or third mug was raised in toast, they were all singing along with the village troubadour.
“I find I must thank you, old priest,” said the proud commander.
“Yes, you must,” Father Joseph said, knowing his eyes were sparkling.
“You did take a hot bit of work and cool it. That you did.”
“God blesses some works to his end. Why He does not bless others, I have not been blessed to know.”
“Well, He blessed you. I, for one, was not at all sure I’d be returning with one of these kids, much less two, maybe three of them. Is that girl Rose as sweet on your David as I think?”
“She’s a bit young to be setting her cap for any boy, don’t you think?” the old priest said, and made a note that he must go to confession to Father Ian for this bit of a lie. While they mi
ght be young, what had transpired between them when they put their heads to the rock seemed to have aged them beyond their years.
“You know these hill folk better than I,” the bold commander said. “And I thank you for putting your oar into the waters I troubled. If the folks and their kids had taken off a-running, I doubt I ever could have chased them down in this hill country.”
“And maybe it is us that didn’t want to have to run, not at all, at all. Have you thought about that?”
“You want to go out to the cold stars?”
“The star walkers were among us longer than they were with you. It’s hard to say, but both David and Jon raised their voices to go, and what with all that her folks were carrying on, we never did hear from young Rose, now did we?”
The bold commander took a long pull on his beer. “You may have said more than you know, old priest. You may have said more than I will ever know.”
Later that night, before the altar, the old priest would meditate on those words. Just how had it come to pass that at his old age, and David’s young years, that they were setting their feet on a path neither one of them could have dreamed of just two years ago?
If the dear Lord was willing, he would have the time to find out.
TWENTY-SIX
RUTH LET MARY drive her out, two days later, to meet Alice Blue Bonnet at a farmer’s market. They looked for Alice under her trademark blue bonnet but couldn’t find her.
Ruth finally spotted her. Alice was dressed in a black-and-white maid’s uniform, though the hem was a bit more above the knee than Ruth would have expected of a maid in a fine house.
“Hurry,” Alice said, “I’m here to buy cleaning supplies. I must be quick about it.”
“You have a job?” Ruth said, wondering who would have hired the painfully thin young woman.
“Yes, I work at a place frequented by the Farm’s technicians and scientists.”
The young woman did not meet Ruth or Mary’s eyes as she said that. Alarm bells were going off in Ruth’s head.
“Who gave you a job?” Mary insisted.
“I am working at a gentlemen’s place of leisure,” Alice said. “Please, do not tell Major Barbara. It is not what it seems.”
“Of course we won’t tell Major Barbara,” Ruth said, shooting daggers at Mary. The Marine had the good sense to leave the situation to Ruth. “Why do you say it is not what it seems?”
“I’m not one of the working girls, Ruth. I’m a washerwoman. I strip the beds, wash the linens, iron them, and remake the beds. That’s all I do.”
“We understand,” Ruth said. “And I’m sure Major Barbara will, too.” She kept to herself the fear that if any jaded visitor took a hunger for a painfully thin and young slip of a girl, no doubt the madam would be negotiating a price before he finished the thought.
We’ve got to get this done, and done quickly.
Alice’s “Do you think she will?” would have wrung water from desert rocks.
“We’ll make sure she does,” Mary said. “Now, about the scientists and techs from the Farm, do they talk much when they come to call?”
“Yes. I also wash glasses at the bar. That gets me extra pay. They talk to the bartender, and he talks to me. I think he likes me,” she said, with probably more of a blush than the young girl had experienced in her life.
“Some of the scientists are not happy,” she went on quickly. “They say they were offered jobs doing critical research, and instead they find themselves working with this ‘shit.’ That is what they call it. They are not happy with their bosses.”
“Hmm,” Mary said. “That’s interesting.”
“And there are job openings at the Farm,” Alice went on as she filled her shopping basket with several boxes of soap detergent. “They need boys to hoe the weeds, spread cow manure, and kill bugs and stuff. It’s hard work, but they hire young kids to do it. Three of our boys are in line for jobs.”
“That would get them in there,” Mary said. “You know I don’t know anything about farming, but even to me, that doesn’t sound right. Aren’t there sprays and stuff for that?”
“Yeah, there are,” Ruth said, “but if someone put a herbicide in the sprayer instead of an insecticide, they could wipe out half the crop in an hour.”
“Not very trusting, are they?” Mary said.
“Not at all,” Ruth said, remembering her own time as a slave on a drug plantation. “Besides, they usually have lots of slave labor growing that shit. They don’t need to make sure it’s resistant to insecticides or herbicides. They breed it quick for the high they want and get it on the street. Then they develop the next designer drug fast. They don’t need any one crop to be very good in the long term.”
“Did I tell you I don’t like these guys?” the Marine said.
“Several times as I recall.”
“We got to do something about this,” Mary said.
“Alice, let us know if the boys make it into the Farm. When can we see you next?”
“I have to shop every other day for stuff. We do a lot of laundry,” the young girl said, eyeing her basket and maybe seeing the piles of soiled sheets that lay ahead of her.
Ruth said a prayer that the poor girl wouldn’t have to face worse in her future.
Some of the other kids were taking other odd jobs at places around the Farm. They had seen a lot of crushers but managed to stay clear of them. Alice promised to have reports from those kids on where the crushers were and if they moved about or stayed comfortable in their places.
Ruth wished Alice had more to tell her, but it was a start. They would just have to take their time with this.
The drive back to the embassy was quiet as Ruth measured the risks the kids were taking and did not like it at all. Alice must know she was in a helpless situation. Still, the girl had sounded sure of herself—more sure of herself than the street kid had sounded since Ruth first met her.
Apparently, having a chance to change things was putting a bit of pride in her step and hope in her cheeks. Or maybe she just found risky business to her taste.
Back at the embassy, Ruth found that she and Mary were wanted in the basement. Both Becky and Colonel Longknife were waiting for them. Ruth let Mary make the report for them.
The Marine was concise and to the point. Still, the debriefing took close to half an hour.
The diplomat’s surprise was evident at the prospects that some of the street kids might actually be hired to work on the Farm. “I wasn’t raised on a farm. I don’t know much at all about where my food comes from, but don’t most farms use gear to do what they want these kids to do?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Ruth said. “I did grow up on a farm, and I’ve seen how these drugs are raised. Fortunately, not with a lash on my back, but close. Too close. You can ask Captain Trouble what that’s like.” Ruth smiled as she slipped into using her husband’s professional handle.
“Still, it seems smart that if you don’t want to risk some stupid slave slipping herbicide into your liquid fertilizer, you use the old-fashioned cow stuff. And if you don’t want to run any chance of a mix-up of pesticide for herbicide, you have kids you hired cheap hoe down the weeds. I know Trouble got really familiar with the back end of a hoe as well as the front end of a whip.”
“And no insecticide?” the colonel asked.
“Some of the drug plants on our plantation had a kind of symbiotic relationship with some bugs. I don’t know if it was just to fertilize the flowers or if there was something more to it, but that was what I saw,” Ruth said.
“So they use cheap labor here and slave labor there,” Becky said.
“But they’ve got unhappy labor, too,” the colonel said, deep in thought.
“You think we can use that against them?” the diplomat asked.
“I’m not sure,” the colonel said slowly. “Somehow, we need to contact those unhappy guys. Ruth, did you and Trouble find out how we took down the space station above Riddle?”
“No, sir.
We were kind of occupied with other things while you were up there, if you remember.”
The colonel laughed. “Yes, I imagine you were. The station was a problem. They had autocannons everywhere, and it looked to be a bloodbath for the Marines. Then my good friend, Trudy Seyd, came up with an absolutely insane idea. Sassy as punch, she waltzed up to the Computer Network shop and offered every man and woman there a pay hike and a five-year contract to work on Wardhaven.”
“You’re kidding?” Becky said.
The colonel raised his right hand. “I swear. It’s the God’s honest truth. If we’d sent a squad of Marines in, they’d have been mowed down. One woman walking around like she had good sense got by the auto systems, then she hired away the folks running the guns, and next thing anyone knew, we had the station.”
“That’s a nice story,” Mary said, “but how do we walk up to these guys and get enough time with them to offer them a job? Assuming they’d take it if we offered it to them?”
That stumped the four of them.
They spent the rest of the hour looking at other aspects of the new data. Becky tasked the sensors on the Patton in orbit to see if they could trace the trucks full of manure back to their source.
“If we can track them, maybe we could add something to the mix while it’s on the road,” the colonel said.
“You’re getting rather proactive,” the diplomat responded.
“Do you have a better idea? Right now, everything is going Milassi’s way. I’d like to see how he handles adversity,” the colonel said, with a tiger’s hungry grin.
TWENTY-SEVEN
MILASSI, OF COURSE, didn’t sit on his thumbs waiting for adversity to bite him on the ass.
That night, four Marines who had stepped out for a bite to eat and a bit to drink were accosted by a dozen thugs not three blocks from the embassy. It wasn’t a fair fight, but then the thugs didn’t intend it to be fair. They had steel pipes and chains. The Marines didn’t have much of anything.
Except their training, and being Marines that meant everything.
To Do or Die (A Jump Universe Novel) Page 16