Li sighed exasperatedly. “Shy. Eve was shy, Dana. Pollux, too. Kids sometimes are. Now look what he gave you, and what you did with it.”
Dana looked. Her hand was wet and sticky. She had squeezed the tomato into goo; juice and pulp dribbled between her fingers.
“I guess I’m tense,” she admitted. No, scared shitless that Rikki was right. That apart from Li, none of them knew what they were doing. “Maybe the kids picked up on that.”
“They did,” Li said flatly.
“Sorry about that.” More sorry than you can imagine.
“Go home,” Li said. “Take the afternoon off. There’s something important I’ll be bringing up after dinner.”
*
“We’ve reached a major milestone,” Li said.
Around the dinner table, the peasants studied her with curiosity. Carlos wore a relaxed grin, from a beer or three too many rather than from foreknowledge.
“Every day is a new challenge,” Li continued. “Every day has its chores. But look what we’ve accomplished. Wheat, corn, and barley crops ripening for the upcoming harvest, and enough freeze-dried bacterial mat to see us through bad weather. Remote-sensing instruments placed on the moons. Our very own climate-improvement program.”
“And ever more thriving children,” Carlos added. Giving Li credit, predictably. With hopes, no doubt, of…reward later.
“And thriving children,” Li repeated.
She had set the dining-room walls to a peaceful seascape, a gentle froth of combers rushing up and swirling back down a sparkling white sand beach. In a cerulean sky, behind pink wisps of cloud, a tomato-red sun kissed the sea. Waves whispered, and tropical breezes sighed through palm trees, and sandpipers piped. Restful. Hopefully lulling. Even Carlos and Rikki, neither of whom had ever visited Earth or experienced such a sunset, must feel it.
The common experiences of thousands of generations embedded themselves in the genetic code. Not as simple as memory, genetic programming recorded the common heritage of the species. Genetic programming instilled fear of the dark, when predators hunted and proto-humans were wise to hide, and of predators yet unseen. Genetic programming suggested, too, what was not a threat and when—as in this case—it was safe to relax.
That basic neural hardwiring would not be denied. So be at peace, my peasants. Be at peace.
“Many accomplishments,” Dana agreed. “But Li, what is this milestone you mentioned?”
“Specialization. I eat by the sweat of your brows. We stay healthy in large measure by Carlos’s steady tweaking of our nanites. And if I may say so, the children continue to benefit from my attention.”
“You may say so,” Antonio said.
“The milestone,” Li continued, “is this. That we’re ready to recognize and make formal the patterns that are already working so well for us.”
“What patterns?” Blake asked.
“Job specialization.” Li counted silently to three. “Including those of us who will interact with the children.”
Raw emotions scrabbled and jostled behind Rikki’s eyes. For several long seconds Li thought relief would win, but guilt chased it away. Maternal instincts were hardwired, too.
Rikki swallowed hard. “We all help with the children.”
“Perhaps that should change,” Li said. “Not everyone is as…well-suited.”
Not everyone is successful at it. The children don’t recoil from everyone. You know who you are.
There was pain now in Rikki’s eyes. In Dana’s, too. Because Li was good at what she did. And when the two women conceded, their men would go along.
“Is it even possible?” Rikki asked. (Hoping for which answer? Li couldn’t tell.) “Even with six of us, sometimes watching the children is draining. How could you alone handle it?”
“Yes, it’s possible,” Li asserted. “But it won’t be just me. The children are comfortable around Carlos, too.” And, you are free to infer, with no one else. “And Marvin, of course, who never sleeps. And Eve and the twins are old enough to help. They want to help.”
“Children raising children,” Blake said dubiously.
“You’re a youngest child, correct?” Li said. It doesn’t matter that you’ve never told me you’re the baby of the family, because you’re their freaking poster child: uncomplicated, attention-seeking, and transparently manipulative. “I can’t believe your older—well, I’ll say, sister—never baby-sat you.”
Blake blinked. “Oh, Lynette did, and the experience does nothing to bolster your argument.”
“Marvin,” Li called, “how many diapers has Eve changed this evening since I left the center for dinner?”
“Six, Li.”
“How many babies have Castor and Pollux fed?”
“Eighteen, so far. They gave bottles to fourteen and fed four directly.”
“While you supervised. Thank you.” To the peasants, Li added, “A dozen in the next cohort are eager to do like the big kids.”
“And…us?” Antonio asked.
“You will contribute more in the ways you already do,” Li said. “How much more progress will you make studying local geology”—you and your stupid rocks—“when you’re not changing diapers every few nights? How much sooner, Rikki, will you understand the climate trends?”
How much more farming and chicken tending will you four get done? How many more cattle can you raise because you won’t be with the children, and how many more cows can you milk? How much more mining of phosphates, and raising of barns, and a thousand other menial chores? But chores weren’t selling points.
“And as…the colony…grows?”
Li said, “As children become old enough of course you’ll teach them the many skills with which to maintain the colony.” After I’ve made them dependably mine.
She could feel the others wavering. “Then we’re in agreement?”
Dana’s chair scraped back as she stood. “No.”
“Excuse me?” Li said.
“No,” Dana repeated. “No way. Uh-uh. Forget it. If I lack some skill, teach me. If I am a stranger to the children, I’ll spend more time with them. The mission is to raise a family, a culture, a civilization—and I do not abandon my mission.”
“No…nor I,” Rikki squeaked. “Nor I,” she repeated, the second time firmly.
Blake and Antonio nodded.
“We get more involved,” Rikki said. “Once the harvest is in, we’ll have more time. And any child old enough to baby-sit is old enough to start school. I’ll help with that. I’d like that.”
“Me, too,” Antonio said.
“This is how you want it?” Li asked.
“Yes!” they chorused.
“Remember that I offered,” Li said. Remember who made me
