The Children of the Sky

Ravna struggled to keep her voice steady: “What sacrifices in particular? Learning low-tech programming? Learning manual arithmetic?”

Heida chipped in with, “Oh, part of it is just having other people tell us what to do!”

These kids probably didn’t even know the names of pre-tech consensus-building methods. Skipping that stage had just been one of the simplifications Ravna had chosen. She had hoped that trust and affection and common goals would suffice until they had more tech and more people.

“Getting bossed around may be part of it,” said Ovin, “but for some, the medical situation is a bigger issue.” He looked directly at Ravna. “The years pass and you rule and you still look young, just as young as Johanna does now.”

“Ovin! I’m thirty-five years old.” That was human-standard thirty-megasecond years, the same as Straumers used. “It should be no surprise I look young. Back in Sjandra Kei, I’d still be a very junior specialist.”

“Yes, and a thousand years from now, you’ll still look that young. All of us—even the older children—will be dead in a few hundred years. Some of us already look decayed—you know, losing our hair like we’ve suffered rad damage. Getting fat. The youngest of us have scarcely had any prolongevity treatment. And our children will die like flies, decades before us.”

Ravna thought of Wenda Larsndot’s graying hair. But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong! “Look, Ovin. We’ll get the medical research ramped up eventually. It just doesn’t make sense to put it first. I can show you the progress charts that Oobii generates. Effective medicine has a million gotchas. Which cure is going to be hard—and hard for which child—that’s something we can’t know ahead of time. A crash medical program would just be a morass of delay. We’ve got at least twenty coldsleep caskets that are still in working order. I’m sure we can generate the consumables for them eventually. If necessary, we can freeze anyone who gets mortally old. No one need die.”

Ovin Verring raised his hand. “I understand, ma’am. I think all of us here do—even Screwfloss, Benky, and Catchip—who are so quietly listening in.” There was some embarrassed shifting around in the tavern’s lofts. From across the room, the bartender said, “Heh, this is all between you two-legs.”

Heida couldn’t resist: “You packs just don’t die properly!”

Ovin gave a little smile but waved for Heida to pipe down. “Nevertheless, you see the attraction of the Disaster Study Group. They deny that our parents messed up. They deny that there’s a need for sacrifice. We refugees can’t really know what happened or who was to blame in getting us Down Here. The extremists—and I don’t think any of us have knowingly talked to such; the extremists are always referred to at third hand—they say since we know the goodness of our own parents, then the right bet is that the Blight is no monster at all, and all this preparation and sacrifice may be in service to … well, maybe to something evil.”

Johanna gave her head a sharp little shake. “Huh? Ovin, that logic is a jumble.”

“Maybe that’s why we can’t find anyone who says it for themselves, Jo.”

Ravna listened to the back and forth. What can I say to this that I haven’t said before? But she could not keep silent: “When these deniers say ‘we can’t really know,’ that is a lie. I know. I was at Relay, working for Vrinimi Org. The Blight was doing evil almost half a year before Oobii took flight. It spread out from your High Lab, probably within a few hours of your escape. It took over the Top of the Beyond. I could read about it in the news. With Vrinimi’s resources I could follow the destruction in detail, the Blight killing whomever it pleased. The thing took over Straumli Realm. It destroyed Relay. It chased Pham and me and the Skroderiders down here, and the wake of that pursuit killed Sjandra Kei and most of the humans in the Beyond.” These were things she had told them again and again and again. “The defense against the Blight wasn’t undertaken until we arrived here. Yes, what Pham and Countermeasure did was horrendous—more so than we can measure. Countermeasure did strand us. But it stopped the Blight and it left us with a chance. Those are facts that are being denied. They are not something beyond knowing. I was there.”

And all around the table, these Children now grown up were nodding respectfully.

Chapter 06

Ravna had plenty of time to think about that terrible surprise at the Sign of the Mantis. More accurately, she couldn’t think about anything else. Everything she’d ever said or done looked different now that she imagined it through the eyes of the Deniers.

In the beginning, the Children had all lived in the New Castle on Starship Hill, just a hundred meters from the academy. The youngest ones still lived there with older siblings or Best Friend packs. Most of the others—grown and with the beginnings of families—lived on Hidden Island or in the string of houses south of the New Castle.

But Ravna still lived aboard the starship Out of Band II—thirty thousand tonnes of unflyable junk, but with technology from the stars.

She must seem crazed and remote, hunkered down aboard the supreme power in this world.

But I have to be here! For the Oobii had a small library, and Ravna was a librarian. The tiny onboard archive comprised the technological tricks of myriads Slow Zone races. Humankind on Earth had taken four thousand years to go from the smelting of iron to interstellar travel. That had been more or less a random walk. In the wars and catastrophes that followed, humans were like most races. They had blown themselves back to the medieval many times, and sometimes to the Neolithic, and, on a few worlds, even to extinction. But—at least where humankind survived at all—the way back to technology had been no random walk. Once the archeologists dug up the libraries, renaissance was a matter of a few centuries. With Oobii, she could cut that recovery time down to less than a century. To thirty years, if bad luck will just stay out of my way!

That afternoon, at the Sign of the Mantis, bad luck showed it had been around all the time. How could this have blindsided me? Ravna asked herself that question again and again. The Children had always been full of questions. Many times over the years, she and the Tines had told them the story of the Battle on Starship Hill, and the history before. They all had walked around Murder Meadows, seen how the land looked when Lord Steel had killed half the Children. But they had only Ravna’s words about other half of the battle, how Pham had stopped the Blighter fleet and the price that had been paid. The Children had always had lots of questions about that, and about what had happened to their parents at the beginning of the disaster. The Children had gone from a world with families and friends, to waking up surrounded by Tines and a single human adult. All they had was her word about what had made that happen. Foolish Ravna, she had thought that that would be enough.

Now the Children had more than doubts. Now they had something called the Disaster Study Group.

Just hours after the Sign of the Mantis, she and Johanna and Jefri (and Amdi of course) had another chat. These were the first two kids Ravna had met Down Here. Ten years ago, they had shared a terrible few hours. Ever since, Ravna had felt they had a special relationship—even when Jefri hit his teenage years and seemed lost to all reason.

Now Johanna was livid about the Disaster Study Group—but even more angry with Jefri, since he hadn’t told her of the group’s latest lies.

Jefri had flared right back at her. “You want to go on a witch hunt, Jo? You want to flush out everyone who believes some part of the DSG claims? That would be just about everybody, you know.” He paused, his glance flickering doubtfully in Ravna’s direction. “I don’t mean the worst of it, Ravna. We know you and Pham were good guys.”

Ravna had nodded, trying to look calm. “I know. I can see how natural some of the doubting is.” Yeah she could see, with brilliant hindsight. “I just wish I had known before.”

Johanna bowed her head. “I’m sorry I never talked to you about this. The DSG says some despicable things, but both Nevil and I thought it was so nuts it would just die away. Now, the whole thing seems much more organized.” She cast a look at Jefri. They were back on the Oobii’s bridge, a good place for very small, very private meetings. Amdi was out of sight, hiding around under the furniture. “You and Amdi obviously knew that the DSG has turned a whole lot more nasty.”

Jefri started to snap back, then gave a reluctant nod. In fact, Ravna suddenly realized, he looked ashamed.