Cermo sounded annoyed.—I know something else he’s full of. Anyway, get back here. We’ve got to find food supplies and then move on.—
“How come? I’d like to explore this—”
—Those big things orbiting closer to the Center? The Bridge just got a spectro-reading. They told me the nearest one’s not mech-made at all, like we thought.—
“What is it, then?”
—Human-made. An ancient Chandelier.—
THREE
The Rule of Number
Besen came by Toby’s bunk to see if he wanted to go up to the viewing room. She was sweaty from her work—hand-cultivating the vegetable fields in the single lush growing dome they had left. Her overalls were grungy, light brown wisps of hair were escaping from a tight bun, and she beamed at him, still flush with energy to burn.
“Sorry, can’t,” Toby said mournfully. He was propped up on his bunk, pushing a stylus around a writing slate, without much real progress.
“Oh, come on! That’ll wait.”
“Cermo’s got me under orders. I’ve got to get through five lessons before I can go off-ship again.”
“That’s cruel.” She smiled sympathetically. Everybody wanted to get outside, after years of ship living, but Toby more so.
“Well, I am kinda behind.”
Besen tossed her head with pretty annoyance. “Let’s see what you’re—oh, numbers. Yuk!”
“They have their charms—but not right now.”
“I just don’t see the point of them, really. I mean, machines think in numbers—so why should we bother?”
“Look, somebody who doesn’t use numbers has no advantage over somebody who can’t use them.”
“But mechs think that way.” Plainly Besen felt that associating anything with mechs ruled it out.
“And so does Argo—without its computers, we’d be dead. Mechs are evil, sure. Because of what they do, not what they use. Numbers are like words—ways of saying things about the world.”
“Well, they don’t speak to me.”
“And I shouldn’t be speaking to you either. I’ve got to plow through these lessons or else I won’t get to go look at the Chandelier at all.” Toby sighed and stretched, his feet bumping into the ceramic bulkhead. He was lanky and this bunk was getting too short for him. He would have to hunt up a bigger one elsewhere in the dorm rooms that all unmarried Family used.
“Cermo said that? He’s getting tough.”
“I think it’s my dad jerking the strings again.”
Besen snorted in frustration. “Our beloved Cap’n. Why can’t he leave his own son alone?”
“I don’t know,” Toby said, though he had a pretty good idea. It wasn’t anything he wanted to talk over, though, not even with Besen.
She gazed pensively into the distance. “Y’know, after Shibo died, he seemed to recover. But lately, he’s been spending more time by himself, barking orders, keeping everybody in the dark about what he’s thinking. And he treats you funny.” Her eyes slid over to him, inviting a reply.
Toby edged away from specifics with, “Maybe fathers and sons always have trouble.”
“Your father is something else.” Besen’s voice dripped with implications.
“Meaning?”
“He’s rough on everybody. Downright nasty.”
Toby gave her a grim smile. “Maybe he doesn’t want anybody to feel left out.”
“A humorist.” Besen had lost some of her buoyancy. “But I mean it, really. Cap’n Killeen is driving us all hard, and people don’t like it. Except maybe the Cards—they had tough leaders so long—crazy ones even!—they like ’em.”
“Ummm. We’ve gotten soft, living in this comfy ship.”
“Comfy? I spent today on my knees, hand-tending every tomato plant, coaxing them to stay alive.”
“Because we screwed up the other domes. Argo would work fine if we weren’t so dumb.”
Grumpily Besen said, “Well, your dad doesn’t make life any easier.”
Toby nodded glumly. He had made the usual defenses of his father, but they didn’t convince even him. He had seen enough incidents in which Killeen raged at minor infractions, imposed harsh penalties for malingering, raised work hours. A big change from the Killeen of old, who had been affable and casual about the rigors of rank.
“We’re in danger all the time. He’s responsible for us all. Give him some room, okay?” This sounded lame even to Toby, but he could not bring himself to condemn his father. For too many years, after the mechs killed Toby’s mother, Killeen had been the only one who had looked after him.
Besen saw Toby’s mood and leaned over to give him a light kiss. “Sorry if I brought you down. Or considering what you’re studying, even further down.”
“Aw, beat it. Go oooh and ahhh at the views of the Chandelier.”
