Part 32 (1/2)
”The ACLU?” Drew echoed, shocked. ”Can they close you down?”
”They can try. But we'll demonstrate substantial losses far beyond accounts receivable for the products, and all they can do is accept what we offer.”
”What are they protesting?” Lunzie asked, alarmed.
Lars waved it away as unimportant. ”They're representing the Ssli we fired last month from the underwater hydraulics a.s.sembly line. Unsuitable for the job.”
”But the Ssli are a marine race. Why, what makes them unsuitable?”
”You wouldn't understand. They're too different. They don't mix well with the other employees. And there's problems in providing them with insurance. We have to buy a rider for every mobile tank they bring onto the premises to live in. And that's another thing: they live right on the factory grounds. We almost lost our insurance because of them.”
”Well, they can not commute from the sea every day,” Tee quipped.
”So they say.” Lars dismissed the Ssli with a frown, entirely missing Tee's sarcasm. ”We'll settle the matter within a few days. If they don't leave, we'll have to shut the line down entirely anyway. There's other work they can do. We've offered to extend our placement service to them.”
”Oh, I see,” Lunzie said, heavily. ”Very generous of you.” It was not so much that she thought the company should drive itself into bankruptcy for the sake of equity as that Lars seemed quite oblivious to the moral dimension of the situation. Lars levelled a benevolent eye at her. ”Why, ancestress, how good of you to say so.”
Melanie and Lars's wife beamed at her approval, also entirely missing her cynical emphasis.
”Is it considered backwards to read books nowadays?” Lunzie asked Tee later when they were alone in the guest room. ”I've only been on the Platform and Astris since I came out of cold sleep the first time. I haven't any idea what society at large has been doing.”
”Has that been bothering you?” Tee asked, as he pulled his tunic over his head. ”No. Reading has not gone out of fas.h.i.+on in the last number of years, nor in the years you were awake before, nor in the ones while you slept in the asteroid belt. Your relatives do not wish to expose themselves to deep thought, lest they be affected by it.”
Lunzie pulled off her boots and dropped them on the floor. ”What do you think of them?”
”Your relatives? Very nice. A trifle pretentious, very conservative, I would say. Conservative in every way except that they seem to have put us together in this guest room, instead of at opposite ends of the house. I'm glad they did, though. I would find it cold and lonely with only those dreary moralisers.”
”Me, too. I don't know whether to say I'm delighted with them or disappointed. They show so little spirit. Everything they do has such petty motives. Shallow. Born dirtsiders, all of them.”
”Except the girl, I think,” Tee said, meditatively, sitting down on a fluffy seat next to the bed.
”Oh, yes, Lona. I apologise to her from afar for lumping her with the rest of these . . . these closed- minded warts on a log. She's the only one with any gumption. And I hope she shows sense and gets out of here as soon as she can.”
”So should we.” Tee moved over behind Lunzie and began to rub her neck. Lunzie sighed and relaxed her spine, leaning back against his crossed legs. He circled an arm around her shoulders and kissed her hair while his other hand kneaded the muscles in her back. ”I don't think I can be polite for very long. We should stay a couple of days, and then let's find an excuse to go.”
”As you wish,” Tee offered quietly, feeling the tense cords in her back relax. ”I would not mind escaping from here, either.”
Lunzie tiptoed down the ramp from the sleeping rooms into the common room and the dining room. There was no sound except the far-off humming of the air-recirculation system. ”h.e.l.lo?” she called softly. ”Melanie?”
Lona popped up the ramp from the lower level of the house. ”Nope, just me. Good morning!”
”Good morning. Shouldn't you be in school?” Lunzie asked, smiling at the girl's eagerness. Lona was both pretty and lively, she looked like a throwback to Lunzie's own family, instead of a member of Melanie's conservative Alphan brood.
”No cla.s.ses today,” Lona explained, plumping down beside her on the couch. ”I'm in a communications technology discipline, remember? Our courses are every other day, alternating with work experience either at a factory or a broadcast facility. I've got the day off.”
”Good,” Lunzie said, looking around. ”I was wondering where everyone was.”
”I'm your reception committee. Melanie's just gone shopping, and Dalton normally works at home, but he's got a meeting this morning. Where's Tee?”
”Still asleep. His circadian rhythm is set for a duty s.h.i.+ft that begins later on.”
Lona shook her head. ”Please. Don't bother giving me the details. I flunked biology. I'm majoring in communications engineering. Oh, Melanie left you something to look at.” Lona produced a package sealed in a black plastic pouch. Curious, Lunzie pulled open the wrapping, and discovered a plastic case with her name printed on the lid.
”They're Fiona's. She left them behind when she went away,” Lona explained, peering over Lunzie's shoulder as Lunzie opened the box. It was full of two-D and three-D images on wafers.
”It's all of her baby pictures,” Lunzie breathed, ”and mine, too. Oh, I thought these were lost!” She picked up one, and then another, exclaiming over them happily.
”Not lost. Melanie said that Fiona brought all of that stuff to MarsBase with her. We don't know who most of these people are. Would you mind identifying them?”
”They're your ancestors, and some friends of ours from long ago. Sit down and I'll show you. Oh, Muhlah, look at that! That's me at four years of age.” Lunzie peered at a small two-D image, as they sat down on the couch with the box on their knees.
”Your hair stuck out just like Gordon's does,” Lona pointed out, snickering.
”His looks better,” Lunzie put that picture back in the box and took out the next one. ”This is my mother. She was a doctor, too. She was born in England on Old Earth, as true a Sa.s.senach as ever wandered the Yorks.h.i.+re Dales.”
”What's a Sa.s.senach?” Lona asked, peering at the image of the pet.i.te fair-haired woman.
”An old dialect word for a contentious Englishman. Mother was what you'd call strong-minded. She introduced me to the works of Rudyard Kipling, who has always been my favourite author.”
”Did you ever get to meet him?”
Lunzie laughed. ”Oh, no, child. Let's see, what is this year?”
” 'Sixty-four.” ”Well, then, next year will be the thousandth anniversary of his birth.”
Lona was impressed. ”Oh. Very ancient.”
”Don't let that put you off reading him,” Lunzie cautioned her. ”He's too good to miss out on all your life. Kipling was a wise man, and a fine writer. He wrote adventures and children's stories and poetry, but what I loved most of all was his keen way of looking at a situation and seeing the truth of it.”
”I'll look for some of Kipling in the library,” Lona promised. ”Who's this man?” she asked, pointing.
”This is my father. He was a teacher.”
”They look nice. I wish I could have known them, like I'm getting to know you.”
Lunzie put an arm around Lona. ”You'd have liked them. And they would have been crazy about you.”
They went through the box of pictures. Lunzie lingered over pictures of Fiona as a small child, and studied the images of the girl as she grew to womanhood. There were pictures of Fiona's late mate and all the babies. Even as an infant, Lars had a solemn, self-important expression, which made them both giggle. Lona turned out the bottom compartment of the box and held out Lunzie's university diploma.
”Why is your name Lunzie Mespil, instead of just Lunzie?” Lona asked, reading the ornate characters on the plastic-coated parchment.
”What's wrong with Mespil?” Lunzie wanted to know.