Talk of the expedition followed me to work, too. Professor Jeffries had three notes from the Settlement Office waiting on his desk, asking for his advice, and so did Professor Torgeson. It kept up like that all through the fall, while the folks in Washington argued and fussed and fumed and planned.
All the expedition work made it hard for Professor Jeffries and Professor Torgeson to get off to the study center every other week the way they’d planned, but they mostly managed. I stayed in Mill City, getting more and more uncomfortable with the situation at home. Mama and Rennie and Allie all expected things of me: not just chores and minding the childings, but what they thought I ought to do with the rest of my life. Except for Lan, Papa and the boys mostly ignored me unless something specific came up, and even Lan was more caught up in the expedition planning than interested in anything I had to say on my own.
I wrote a lot of letters to William that fall. Letters were better than talking, I decided, because I couldn’t see if someone wasn’t interested or notice when they stopped listening. Not that William didn’t listen; his return letters always showed that he’d thought about what I’d said, even when he had a lot to say himself. I told him all the expedition news, and he told me that some of the professors at Triskelion had already been approached to see if they were interested in going. We both agreed that if it were us, we’d jump at the chance.
Somewhat to my surprise, I also spent a fair bit of time with Roger. If I’d thought about it at all, I’d expected that between the time he’d spent in Albion and his friendship with Lan, he’d have lost interest in me entirely, but I was wrong. The attention made me nervous. Part of me didn’t want to be leading him on if Allie was right and he had an interest in being more than friends, but another part was glad for the excuse to get away from the chores and childings at home. It was very confusing. At least Allie had stopped pestering me on the subject.
In October, the mammoth nearly broke free of its pen out at the study center. It was always extra restless in spring and fall, when the wild mammoths were migrating, but this year it was especially bad. Professor Jeffries had to make an emergency trip to help control it.
When he came back, he and Professor Torgeson had a huge argument over the cause of the problem. Professor Jeffries thought it was the trip and being in new surroundings with new people, and that the mammoth would settle down once it got used to its new quarters. Professor Torgeson thought it was because the mammoth was nearly full grown and west of the Great Barrier, and that the problem would only get worse. They finally agreed to wait until spring and see how it behaved then. Professor Torgeson walked off muttering, “At least those medusa lizards haven’t started acting up. Yet.”
At the end of October, the Frontier Management Department finally announced that a new expedition would be going out to explore the Far West. By then, everyone had known for months that the announcement was coming, and it was only the details that folks were interested in. The expedition would leave from Mill City in April, following the path of the McNeil Expedition as far as they knew it and then heading on up the Grand Bow River toward the Rocky Mountains.
The minute the official announcement was made, everyone started talking about who, exactly, would be part of it. It was no easy thing to choose people to send on an expedition that would be gone for at least two years, maybe more, and that had a good chance of not coming back at all. Also, a lot of folks seemed to think that if there was going to be an expedition, they wanted in on it in some way, even if they didn’t want to go their own selves.
The army and the Frontier Management Department were arguing worse than ever, each insisting that their people should be in charge. Master Adept Farawase wanted to send magical naturalists and scientists, and was even leaving one of her aides behind to go along. The National Farmer’s Society wanted to send a geographer at the very least, and a geomancer if they could get one. The railroad company wanted to include a surveyor. The Agriculture Department wanted to send a plant specialist to look for edible plants that could make for new crops. The Bureau of National Development wanted a geologist along to look for mineral deposits. Even the new National Baseball League wanted to send someone, or at least a baseball that they could show off as the first baseball to reach the Rocky Mountains.
The Frontier Management Department didn’t pay heed to most of the arguments, so far as I could tell. In late November, about three weeks after the announcement, another letter arrived from Washington for Professor Jeffries, sealed with red wax. It was an invitation to join the new expedition, and it set off quite a flurry of meetings at the college. I didn’t find out what they were about until Papa came by the laboratory late one afternoon while we were cleaning up.
“I hear you’ve been asked to head West with this new expedition,” Papa said to Professor Jeffries. “Congratulations.”
Professor Jeffries looked at him suspiciously. “I expect you’ve also heard that I’m going to decline the honor.”
“Dean Farley did say something of the kind,” Papa said. “I believe he’s hoping I can talk you into changing your mind.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” Professor Torgeson said. “I’ve already tried.”
I looked at Professor Jeffries in surprise. “Don’t you want to go?” I asked.
Professor Jeffries looked sternly over the top of his spectacles at all three of us. “Yes, yes, it’s a great honor, but it’s simply not practical. I don’t know why on earth they came up with such a ridiculous idea in the first place.”
“Maybe because you’re the foremost expert on Western wildlife in the country?” Professor Torgeson said.
“Don’t exaggerate. There are at least half a dozen people who know as much or more than I do. Harlow has done groundbreaking work on silverhooves. Pachenski’s findings on the relationship between arrow hawks and tiger mice is positively brilliant. There are plenty of other logical choices.” Professor Jeffries sighed. “There’s also the lizard study to consider. The three we have are fixated on me, and I wouldn’t like to put them down until we’ve learned as much as we can. Besides, I’m too old to be setting out into the wildlands.”
I looked at him, startled. I’d never thought of Professor Jeffries as being particularly old before, but he was one of the senior professors at the college. He’d been a professor for nearly forty years, since well before the Northern Plains Riverbank College was founded. His hair was gray, and he had a lot more wrinkles than I’d ever noticed. He was plenty spry, I knew; he’d ridden out to the settlements three years before when we went to look into the mirror bug infestation. But he hadn’t been too far west of the Mammoth River after that, not since Professor Torgeson joined the department.
Papa seemed to be thinking some of the same things. “I’m sure the Frontier Management Department has taken that into consideration,” he said, though he didn’t sound all that certain to me.
“The Frontier Management Department can’t see past the end of its collective nose,” Professor Jeffries said. He smiled suddenly, with an evil glint in his eyes. “I’m recommending they take Aldis instead. Let’s see what they make of that.”
“Me?” Professor Torgeson looked thoroughly taken aback for a minute, then shook her head. “They’ll never do it. I’m too young, I don’t have the credentials, and I’m only an assistant professor.”
“You’re a Vinlander, which means you have more experience with North Columbian wildlife than any of the people born and raised on this side of the Great Barrier Spell,” Professor Jeffries countered. “You also have experience traveling and studying in the unprotected settlements. You did fine work on the wildlife survey two years ago, and since you came on staff, you’ve collected more large specimens than anyone else at this college. Including, may I remind you, the medusa lizard that set off all this expedition talk in the first place. You’re a strong magician and a crack shot — I heard about that rifle contest you had with young Anderson. You’re a very logical choice.”
&nbs
p; “You’re assuming I want to go on this snipe hunt,” Professor Torgeson grumbled, but anyone could see her heart wasn’t in it.
Sure enough, a week and a half later, Professor Torgeson got one of the letters sealed with red wax, inviting her along on the expedition. She had me write out her acceptance that very afternoon. So that was settled.
On the way home, I went the long way around so I could stop at the Post Office to pick up the mail for our family. Lan was usually the one to do that chore, because it was more on his way, but Mr. Parsons had asked him to stay late at the Settlement Office that day, so he’d asked me to take care of it. I smiled as Miss Jarlbrod handed me the stack of letters and glanced through them. And froze.
One of the letters was on heavy cream paper, sealed with red wax. I hesitated. With shaking hands, I turned it over to see who it had been sent to.
It was for Brant.
I walked the rest of the way home in a daze. I wasn’t sure what Mama or Papa would think, but I was positive that Rennie and Allie wouldn’t like the idea of Brant going on the expedition, not one little bit.
When I got home, I hesitated before I set the mail in the little wooden rack by the door. I didn’t know whether anyone would recognize the letter from the Frontier Management Department for what it was straightaway, and I really thought that Brant should see it first. Luckily, he came in just a minute or two after I did, while I was still hanging up my coat and putting my hat and scarf away.
“You have a letter,” I told him, and he fished it out of the pile just as Mama came into the front hall.
I saw the moment when he opened the letter and stiffened. Unfortunately, Mama saw it, too.
“What do you have there, Brant, if I may ask?” she said.
“It’s from the Frontier Management Department,” Brant said in a stunned voice. “They want me to go on this new expedition they’re putting together.”
“What!”
We all turned. Rennie was standing at the foot of the stairs, her eyes wide and one hand covering her mouth in horror. She stood statue-still for a moment, then reached forward. “Brant, you can’t mean to go!”
Brant shook himself out of his daze. “I don’t mean much of anything yet. I only just got the offer. I haven’t had time to think about it.”
“Think about it! What is there to think about?” Rennie said. “You can’t —”
“What’s all the fuss?” Allie walked through the rear doorway into the hall. She had a flour-sack towel in her hands, as if she’d been drying dishes.
“Brant wants to go out West on this expedition Lan’s been talking so much about!” Rennie told her.
“No!” Allie looked almost as horrified as Rennie had.
“Nothing’s been said about going or not going,” Mama said firmly before Brant could open his mouth. “And your husband is right, Rennie; this isn’t a decision to be made in the front hallway.”
“But, Mama —”
“Come and help finish making dinner,” Mama said. “Eff can watch the childings until it’s ready” — she gave me a sharp look to be sure I wouldn’t object — “and Brant can take a few minutes to think. You can discuss it later.”
She sent Brant a meaningful look and nodded toward Papa’s study, then shepherded Allie and Rennie back down the hall to the kitchen. I went upstairs to find the childings. I’d had the walk home from the Post Office to get used to the notion of Brant’s invitation, but even so I’d been surprised by the look on his face, and on Rennie’s. I sighed. There’d be an argument at dinner, for sure.
It was nearly an hour before Mama called us down, and at first I thought I’d been wrong. Oh, it was plain enough that Rennie and Allie and Brant were unhappy about something, but none of them said anything about the letter or the expedition. No one said much of anything at all for the first few minutes, though Robbie tried. Even Lewis and Seren Louise were more subdued than usual.
Then the front door banged and I heard Lan’s voice, loud enough to recognize but too muffled to make out exactly what he was saying. A moment later, he came into the dining room. His cheeks were still red from the cold, and his eyes were bright and excited.
“I’m sorry to be so late,” he said, “but you’ll never guess what happened at the Settlement Office today!”
Mama smiled, looking relieved because it wouldn’t be a silent dinner after all. “What?”
“The letters came about the expedition!” Lan said. “They’ve finally decided who they’re asking to go.”
The silence around the table got thick enough to cut with a knife, and little Albert whimpered. Lan went on, oblivious. “There was a letter for Wash Morris, of course, and one for us to send on to that trapper. And —” He paused dramatically, and I felt my heart sink. “Roger and I both got invitations! Isn’t it great?”
Mama went pale, and Rennie’s teeth clenched. Papa’s eyes narrowed. Brant looked down at his plate, where he’d been pushing his shepherd’s pie around without actually eating much. Allie glanced at Mama, then scowled and said, “Lan! How can you?” At the same time, Robbie grinned and said, “You’re going to the Far West? I bet it’s just an excuse so you don’t have to go back to Simon Magus!”
Allie transferred her glare to Robbie. “Hush up! Honestly, don’t you have any sense?”
“What?” Robbie said. He and Lan wore identical expressions of bewilderment. “Just because you don’t think it’s exciting —”
Allie got the look that meant she was going to start yelling, so I said as calmly as I could, “Brant got a letter, too, and Mama and Rennie are a little worried about it.”
“You did?” Robbie turned to Brant. “Why didn’t you say —” Right about then his head caught up with the rest of what I’d said, and he broke off.
“It’s a great honor to be asked,” Papa said, and his voice settled everyone else down. “And it’s not one to be declined or accepted without careful thought.” He looked at Brant and then at Lan, and finally over toward Rennie and Allie. “In the meantime, I would like to hear a few more details about this expedition. I presume the Frontier Management Office included some in your letters?”
Lan nodded. He sat down, looking subdued for a moment, but it wasn’t long before he was waving his hands in the air with nearly as much excitement as he’d shown when he walked in the door. I listened wistfully as he told us all about it.
The people in Washington figured the expedition would take at least two years, maybe more; after all, the McNeil Expedition had been gone for two, and they’d only gotten a little past Wintering Island in the Grand Bow River. It was a lot farther to the Rocky Mountains. They’d settled a lot of the arguments by dividing the expedition into three groups: one for the scientists and magicians, one for the army and support people, and one for the Frontier Management Department. They were sending thirty people, and each group got to pick ten. The Frontier Management Department had asked the Settlement Offices for recommendations.
Wash had been an obvious choice. He’d been almost to the Rocky Mountains before, traveling all on his own, and he was one of the best circuit magicians in the North Plains Territory. They’d suggested Roger because he had geomancy training, though of course he wasn’t a full-fledged geomancer. And they wanted Lan because they liked the work he was doing, because he’d help kill the first two medusa lizards and had at least some experience in settlement territory, and because he was a double-seventh son.
Lan had a pretty good notion who else the Settlement Office had invited, but he wouldn’t say; they weren’t making any public announcements until they knew who’d accepted. He hadn’t known anything about Brant or Professor Torgeson, though. The professor was obviously going to be one of the scientific magicians. Since Brant wasn’t a scientist and certainly wasn’t a magician, that meant he’d probably been asked by the people choosing the army and support people. Robbie said it must be because he’d been on the McNeil Expedition and come home a hero.
Right about then, Rennie got
up and left the table without speaking. After a minute, Brant went after her. Lan and Robbie looked uncomfortable for a minute, then went back to talking about details of the expedition. It was plain they thought it’d be best to cover as much as they could while Rennie was out of hearing.
I didn’t think it was all the expedition talk that had made Rennie run off like that. I thought it was as much about Brant going out with Dr. McNeil and coming home a hero, because that was what had attracted Rennie to him nine years before, and the reason she’d run off with him to live in a Rationalist settlement and ended up trying to keep house and raise her childings without using magic.
I didn’t think she’d been particularly happy all that time. I wasn’t all that sure that she was as happy now as everybody seemed to think she was. Before she married, Rennie had always liked being in charge of everything she could get her hands on. While she lived in the Oak River settlement, she hadn’t been in charge of nearly as much as she wanted, and I didn’t think that coming back to Mill City and living with Mama and Papa again had done much to cure that. Brant was in for a long, hard talking-to, I figured, and I didn’t even want to speculate on what the outcome would be.
I avoided Rennie and Brant for the next couple of weeks, but I couldn’t avoid Allie or Robbie or Lan. Allie bent my ear every chance she could, trying to persuade me to help her talk Lan into staying home. She was especially put out because Mama and Papa weren’t pressing him any.
“Mama’s worried and upset — you can see it,” she told me. “I’ve told Lan and told him, but he won’t listen! Why hasn’t she said anything?”
“Maybe she has, but not in front of you.” I remembered the talk Mama and I had had, right after Professor Torgeson asked me to help move the mammoth out to the study center. Mama hadn’t liked the notion, but she’d made that plain and then made it even plainer that the choice was mine to make. “Or maybe she thinks that her being worried isn’t a good enough reason for Lan to stay home, if he doesn’t want to.”
The Far West Page 11