Read Online Adiamante by L. E. Modesitt Jr. - Free Book Online Page B

waited, faintly amused smile in place, listening in on his tactical net.
    â€œ … the local headhonch … scanning me …”
    â€œ … be nice to him, Henslom …”
    â€œ … silly in that black cloak, like a melldram hero … vacuous grin … what do I say …”
    â€œ … less the better …” snapped a nearer transmission, probably from Majer Ysslop. “He can’t be as vacuous as he seems, and that means he’s dangerous.”
    â€œHim? I could take him apart in moments, even without weapons,” Henslom net-answered.
    â€œYou might be surprised, one way or the other.”
    â€œStuff it, Ysslop.”
    â€œYour farm, Senior Majer Henslom.”
    I wanted to sigh, even as I was willing to acknowledge Majer Ysslop’s pragmatic insights. The more I heard, the more likely it seemed that nothing had changed over a millennium. Then again, despite all the growth in abilities, basic human emotions never changed. The bottom line was always force. The problem facing me was that the cybs didn’t seem to recognize the difference between force and violence.
    That was the basis of the SoshWars, back before The Flight. The Mascs relied on violence, and the Fems didn’t understand that social controls represented force as surely as the violence of the Mascs. Even millennia after The Flight, the cybs seemed to carry some of the Masc heritage.

    â€œGreetings, Majer,” I offered verbally. “Is there anything else in which I might provide assistance?”
    â€œRations?”
    â€œFood? We can provide supplies to the central kitchens, and cooks, if you like. Would that be agreeable?”
    â€œThe supplies would be fine.” Then he added, in a transmission to the locial field—and probably from the lander to the orbiting ships, given the delay in responses, “No way I’d trust their cooks.”
    â€œThey might make the food edible,” snapped Ysslop.
    â€œEnough!” growled a voice after a short delay.
    â€œI will make the arrangements,” I promised and offered a very slight bow before turning.
    Behind me, the marcybs continued to march into the residence bloc. I waved down a shuttle. I didn’t know the dark-haired driver, but she knew me. “Where to, Coordinator?”
    â€œThe landing field.”
    â€œThe field it is, and we’ll be picking up more of their greencoats.”
    â€œGreencoats?” I hadn’t heard the term before.
    â€œThat’s what Ser Dvorrak called them, and it stuck. He has a way with words.”
    I sat down, glad to be out of the wind. Even with the cloak, it took energy to stay warm in the cold. The shuttle was empty except for the two of us.
    â€œCold out there, and getting colder.” The draff driver wore a heavy leather jacket with the golden kaliram fleece out. The jacket represented a very brave soul, a great obligation, or both.
    â€œI think so.”
    She glanced at me, both in the mirror and the screen, several times as the shuttle whined back toward the landing field before finally asking, “Are they going to make trouble?”
    â€œI think that’s what’s on their minds,” I said frankly.
Anything else would have been untrue, and even a draff would have known that. That she was a shuttle driver trusted with carrying marcybs indicated intelligence, and that meant she was a draffs by choice, not from lack of ability.
    â€œWhy don’t they just have a nice visit and go back where they came from?”
    â€œWe’re working on that.” I shifted my weight on the seat.
    â€œGood. Where do you want off?”
    I looked for the shuttle, and finally located it about fifty meters east of the base of the tower. “By the tower is fine.”
    The driver nodded to me as I slipped off. I watched the ground shuttle whine northward along the landing strip toward the remaining marcybs that waited amid the scattered