by E. M. Foner
“InstaSitter Minka,” the Drazen girl answered.
“I’m so sorry to bother you, but I forgot to ask if you checked his temperature.”
“Actually, you did, and it’s still normal,” the girl responded, without even looking up from her drama.
“Minka? This is Shuerna. If it’s not too much trouble, can you tell if his eyes are moving beneath the lids? I know that Drazens don’t have the same depth perception that we do, but…”
“Yes, he’s dreaming up a storm. If his eyes were moving any faster I’d be worried that it was a nightmare.”
“Do you really think it’s a bad dream? We could come home early.”
“No, it’s just a Drazen saying about healthy eye movements,” the girl replied. “Was there anything else?”
“Sorry for bothering you. You’re our favorite sitter, you know.”
“Thank you, Libby,” Jonah said, and the screen reverted to showing the scrolling list of names. “It usually goes on like that all evening with the red dotters. The sitters get hazard pay.”
“That’s really sad, but where do we come in?”
“Sometimes the sitters run out of patience and say something snarky, and then the parents ask to speak to a supervisor.”
“Oh. What were the other color codes?”
“Can we see an orange dot, Libby?”
“There’s a code orange coming in right now,” the station librarian replied, and the screen zoomed in on a text line with an orange dot to the left of the names.
“Pyun Woojin?” Vivian read in disbelief.
“Mr. Pyun?” Jonah spoke in no particular direction.
“Jonah? Is that you?”
“Yes, Mr. Pyun. How can we help you today?”
“I’m a little uncomfortable with the sitter you sent out. I know it was a last minute thing, but Thomas and Chance are also attending the banquet for the Alts, so we were stuck.”
“What exactly worries you about Bortu?”
“We’ve never had a Horten boy sit for Em before. In my experience, young Horten males aren’t that responsible.”
“It’s true that most of our Horten sitters are girls, but the boys who pass InstaSitter screening are equally qualified, and Bortu has completed over fifty assignments without a complaint. Besides, you know that Libby is always watching.”
“The bag he was carrying looked like it might have contained a…”
“Are you pestering InstaSitter again?” Lynx’s voice broke into the discussion. “I can’t leave you alone for a minute to go to the bathroom. I’m beginning to think that you’re the one who needs babysitting.”
“It’s just that the Horten boy might have a game console with him. You know how immersive those things are.”
“InstaSitter bans game consoles during work,” Jonah reminded Woojin.
“Is that you, Jonah?” Lynx asked.
“Yes, Mrs. Pyun.”
“Don’t call me that. It’s plain ‘Lynx.’ Can I get a sitter for my husband?”
“Can’t a father show concern for his daughter without being treated like there’s something wrong with him?” Woojin demanded.
“There is something wrong with you,” Lynx retorted. “I thought that marrying an ex-mercenary with over twenty years of combat experience would spare me from this kind of discussion.”
“Thank you for pinging InstaSitter,” Jonah said, and made a slicing motion under his throat. Then he grinned at his twin, and they both dissolved in laughter.
“So orange is for parents who complain about the sitters?” Vivian asked when she recovered.
“Specifically the parents who worry that every new sitter isn’t appropriate. Libby tries to schedule the same sitter for them whenever possible, but the Pyuns usually get free babysitting from Thomas or Chance, so there aren’t that many candidates.”
“What about the other colors.”
“Can we see a gold dot, Libby?”
“Gold sounds good,” Vivian said, watching as the screen changed to display a new set of names. “Wait a minute. Isn’t Abeva the Vergallian Ambassador?”
“Yes. The daughters of the Vergallian upper caste can get pretty out of control when they’re children. It’s like some of them have a genetic predisposition to command, so you can’t tell them anything.”
“And that earns the mother a gold star?”
“Her daughter, Aciva, is in our top one-tenth of one percent. That’s what the gold star means.”
“What is she at the top for? Bad behavior?”
“Babysitting hours. Abeva works all the time, and she left her husband or whoever behind when she took the assignment on Union Station. Mom said that normally the embassy staff would be stuck taking care of the ambassador’s daughter, but I guess it caused a lot of problems, because Abeva hires InstaSitters every day. We used to have somebody there basically around the clock, but Aciva turned four last cycle, which means she has tutors for part of the day now. Sitting for her was kind of a blast.”
“You’ve babysat the Vergallian ambassador’s daughter?”
“Sure. You’re going to have to get your hours in too, you know. Mom’s a big believer in nepotism, but you still have to learn the ropes.”
“What was she like?”
“Aciva? Most beautiful little girl you ever saw until I refused to let her play with the kitchen knives. First, she held her breath until she fainted, which freaked me out pretty good. Then when she came to, she bit my thumb. I still have a scar. See?”
“What did you do then?”
“I let her play with the kitchen knives.” Jonah watched his twin’s eyes go wide, and broke into another grin. “Just kidding. I washed it off and then I chased her around the apartment until she was tired enough to go to sleep.”
“What did Abeva say when she came home?”
“She tipped me fifty creds! I loved sitting for Aciva after that.”
“Panic call,” the station librarian reported. This time, a different text grid appeared on the screen, one that showed the names of sitters and their track records. Vivian immediately saw that the highlighted name, Dianne Farnsworth, was on just her fourth assignment, and the first one sitting for an alien child.
“Dianne,” Jonah said in a voice that sounded much more mature than his fourteen years. “What seems to be the problem?”
“Missra has disappeared!”
“I’m sure she’s still in the apartment or our security monitor would have informed you,” Jonah said, and mouthed ‘Libby,’ at his sister. “She’s probably playing hide-and-seek.”
“I know she’s playing hide-and-seek, but I was looking right at her and she suddenly vanished.”
“I see this is your first time babysitting for a Chert. Did she have a device mounted on her shoulder?”
“Yes. She made me wait to start the game while she put it on. I thought it was some kind of camera.”
“No, it’s an invisibility projector. Do you have a tab with you?”
“Yes, I was going to do my homework later.”
“Turn it on and I’ll request the station librarian to render the 3D security imaging into a flat screen feed for you. Chert technology can’t fool the Stryx.”
“You’re a life saver,” Dianne said. A moment later, the twins heard her yelling into her InstaSitter-provided external translator, “Missra! Your mom said no snacks before bedtime. The kitchen is officially out of bounds now.”
“You’re really good at this,” Vivian complimented her brother.
“You’ll get the hang of it. Tinka says that babysitting is in our blood.”
“Does she still get all whacky every time her family forces her out on an arranged date?”
“Did you notice the flowers on the receptionist’s desk when you came in?”
“What about them?”
“We have an early warning system. When Tinka has an arranged date, Aunt Chas stops in and adds a black rose to the arrangement. You can’t miss it.”
; “I have so much to catch up on. I mean, I wouldn’t trade my seven years of dance practice with Samuel for anything, but with mom insisting that we sleep nine hours a night, there just wasn’t enough time for everything.”
“What are you going to do if he goes away to be with Ailia when he finishes school?” Jonah asked suddenly. “You saw them at Dring’s ball.”
“That’s when I lost interest in Vergallian dancing,” Vivian admitted. “I could never be as graceful as her. It’s also when I realized that he must have some secret way for them to practice together, because no couple could have danced like that their first time.”
“That’s impossible.”
“When I asked Sam about the dance steps he added to our routines, he always said he learned them from Vergallian dramas, but I know that they were new. And I noticed that he has everything in his room pushed up against the walls, like he needs the floor space for dancing. I think Jeeves fixed them up with some way of visiting each other in real-time, like holograms or something.”
“You’ve been in his bedroom? I thought he didn’t let anybody except for Beowulf in there.”
“Since I started fencing with him he lets me keep my stuff in his closet. He’s really good with a sword. I have to cheat like crazy to beat him.”
“It’s like you’re betting all your chips on him staying,” Jonah cautioned her.
“He’s going to marry me,” Vivian stated flatly.
“You don’t think it’s a little weird to be that set on who you’re going to marry at our age? I don’t think about that stuff at all.”
“That’s because you’re a boy. Girls have to be smart about these things.”
“You’re always saying stuff like that,” her brother complained.
“It’s true, though. One of my courses in Dynastic Studies …”
“Code Blue,” Libby interrupted, and the operations screen popped up the relevant assignment parameters.
“InstaSitter Central. How can I help you?” Jonah said immediately.
Vivian wondered why he hadn’t used the client’s name since the text was right there on the screen, but then she read the species entry and saw that the parents were Grenouthian.
“I just came home and found that your sitter had completely ignored my instructions, and on top of that, she was very rude to me,” a voice complained.
“I’m sure it was just a cultural misunderstanding,” the boy replied. “We train our Verlock sitters to speak very bluntly in order to save time.”
“She told ME to calm down!”
“Could I ask what instructions she failed to carry out?”
“I specifically told her that my children are prohibited from watching Vergallian dramas. But when I came home, the holo was playing action highlights from…”
“Panic call,” Libby cut into the audio stream. “It’s the Verlock sitter.”
Jonah glanced at the new data on the screen and said, “Glythianor. Your client is currently making a complaint.”
“Her eyes are all bugged out and she stopped yelling at me,” the excited Verlock girl said at an almost normal clip. “I thought she was having a stroke.”
“No, she’s just subvocing us and getting worked up. I’ll ping you back. Libby?”
“You haven’t missed anything,” the station librarian commented. “Switching back.”
“…situations inappropriate for their age. And furthermore, I resent the implication that it’s my fault for not specifying that Grenouthian documentaries about Vergallian dramas were also banned.”
“I understand,” Jonah said, making a circular motion near the side of his head with his forefinger. “You’re home now, and even the Stryx can’t reverse time, so I’ll take Glythianor off the list of sitter candidates for your address. Will that be satisfactory?”
“I think an apology is in order.”
“I’m very sorry for your inconvenience.”
“I meant from the sitter!”
“I’m very sorry, but I’m just a human so I can’t request that from a member of an advanced species,” Jonah said. The bunny sniffed loudly and disconnected.
“Just a human?” Vivian said, her face reddening.
“I pull that one out at least once a shift. We have a manual on using self-deprecating humor to defuse tense situations, but I’m too stupid to remember where I put it.”
“Don’t ever say that about yourself. I’m just sensitive because of what I had to put up with from the aliens when I started in Dynastic Studies, and—you just used it on me, didn’t you.”
“Yup. Libby got Jeeves to write it for us. He’s a customer service genius.”
“Since when?”
“He used to handle all of the problem cases for Libby’s dating service. Some of those messy dates make babysitter complaints look like a minor irritation.”
“How would you know?”
“Libby lets me answer some of them when things are slow with InstaSitter. Just the human singles.”
“Seriously, though. Why doesn’t she handle all of the InstaSitter complaints without us? You know she’d be better at it.”
“Tinka said it’s less expensive this way.”
“But Libby is the one setting the price, and she can charge whatever she wants. Oh, I get it.”
“Besides, it’s good training for management. Tinka runs all of the promising hires through the war room to see how they handle the pressure. Want to try the next one?”
“Sure,” Vivian said, though she began twisting a strand of hair around her finger, a sure sign of nerves. “Libby? How come you don’t just show nervous parents the station security imaging when they call in?”
“That would be an invasion of privacy,” the station librarian replied.
“But you’re always watching anyway.”
“I’m very discrete so it doesn’t count.”
“Are you implying that biologicals can’t keep a secret?” Vivian demanded.
“Compared to me, you’re a cipher,” Jonah answered for the station librarian. He added in a dejected tone, “Mom says that I could never be a spy because I’m too talkative.”
“That’s not true. Spies need to be good communicators, and you talk less than—you’re using that stupid manual on me again. Aren’t you?”
Jonah brushed an imaginary speck of dust off his shoulder. “We’ve got a copy at home you can read. Jeeves also licensed it to EarthCent Intelligence.”
Seventeen
Have you ever been to a Vergallian world before?” Dorothy asked Kevin.
“Not to land,” he told her. “The whole tech-ban thing gets on my nerves, and the queens are basically absolute rulers in their domains. I’ve heard rumors about traders setting down and never getting permission to leave again, though there are stories like that about most places. The only reason I agreed to this stop is that we have your friend’s guarantee.”
“She’s really my brother’s friend. I didn’t even get a chance to talk to her when she came back to Union Station for the ball that Dring threw for my mom.” Dorothy twisted around to look at the dog curled up in his basket. “So when are you going to wake Alexander from his Zero-G hibernation?”
“I already did. He’s sleeping now because he likes to sleep. Maybe he knew we’d end up sitting on the ground for hours waiting on her royal highness.”
“I’m sure there’s a reason. She’s not the type to play status games with people. They probably don’t get many spaceships landing here so they aren’t prepared.”
“That guy on the ground control circuit sounded pretty out of it,” Kevin admitted. “Who did he say he’d notify?”
“The stable master. At least he didn’t ask you to hand over control of the ship.”
“He was pretty firm about our remaining onboard until somebody comes for us, though. Hey, are we in the path of a cavalry charge?”
Dorothy ran to press her nose against the port while Kevin brought up an external image of the approaching riders on
the main screen. The horses were thundering across the tarmac at a full gallop, their riders maintaining a tight military formation.
“I think that’s Ailia in the middle, next to the guy with the banner. And those look like Earth horses.”
“Horses mean that they must be a human mercenary detachment,” Kevin observed, “And they all have banners.”
“But only one of them is riding next to Ailia,” Dorothy said, completing the circle of her logic.
“I doubt they’ve got any equipment to ping us up here so we better go drop the ramp.” Kevin went over and roused the dog. “Into the dumbwaiter, boy. You can’t take the ladder while we’re on a planet. It’s straight down.”
Alexander didn’t even bother stretching when he rose. Instead he trotted over to the box-like cable elevator Joe had rigged so the dog could access both the bridge and the technical deck under gravity conditions. The Cayl hound curled up in the box and took his tail in his mouth to make sure it didn’t get caught between decks.
“Beat you down,” Kevin challenged Alexander, punching the button for the pulley motor and then racing for the ladder. Unfortunately, Dorothy had gotten there before him, and she wasn’t about to try a fireman’s slide for the sake of a bet with the dog, who always won anyway.
“Pretty clever of my dad to think of a dog elevator,” Dorothy said as she clambered down the long ladder. “I don’t remember there being one on the Nova.”
“Beowulf usually goes down to the technical deck by himself when we’re returning to Union Station, though I remember one time that everybody forgot. We had to rig up a harness, and then the three of us helped him rappel down the ladder.”
“That couldn’t have been easy. I bet he weighs more than dad.”
“He took a lot of his own weight on his paws, though I don’t think he enjoyed being pulled from two directions at once. Joe swore that Beowulf can take a vertical ladder by himself if there’s food at the top, but going down backwards is asking a lot, even from a Cayl hound.”
Alexander was already out of the dumbwaiter and waiting when Kevin and Dorothy reached the deck. He knew better than to rush to the cargo container hatch, where his lack of thumbs put him at a distinct disadvantage versus the humans. Instead, he hung back doing doggy yoga and trying to look bored.