Read Online Jenna Starborn by Sharon Shinn - Free Book Online

unmistakable signs of poverty, hardship, and a determination to make her way nonetheless in a not entirely hospitable world. No question that she was a half-cit; this kind of work was not sought by anyone with a pedigree. Indeed, there were some who might have been able to see very little difference between us, our features and our stations in life. I could not decide if this should make me more sympathetic to her—or if it would make me strive, in every small way, to be as different from her as possible.
    We all talked generally for the next few minutes, while Ameletta chattered away as if everyone was listening to each of her sunny syllables. Then Mrs. Farraday rose to her feet, quickly smoothing down the front of her expensive pantsuit.
    â€œGoodness, look at the time. I’ve a few things to do before dinnertime, my dears, so if you will excuse me, I’ll just be off for a while. I know it is not strictly proper, socially speaking,” she added for my benefit, “but when Mr. Ravenbeck is gone, I usually dine with Ameletta and Miss Ayerson. You may certainly have a tray in your room, if you wish, but I was hoping you would take your meals with us.”
    I came to my feet as well; there was still much I had left to do in the way of unpacking my bags and reordering my room. “Indeed, I shall be happy to have the company,” I said warmly. “I shall see you all tonight at dinner, then. I expect it shall be most pleasant.”
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    I t was—that dinner and the dinners that followed, in the nights and weeks that came after. Mrs. Farraday and Ameletta were cheerful if limited companions, intellectually speaking; Miss Ayerson had a scholarly turn of mind that did not entirely track with mine, though we spent much time discussing novels and poetry, and found our tastes remarkably similar; and everyone did her best to be courteous, thoughtful, and interesting. And yet, for me at least, there was something lacking. I would have loved an energetic, emotional debate on the merits and demerits of the Allegiance social system—or the most popular religious trends of the day—or the newest scientific advances which I followed as best I could from the computer terminal installed in my room. Such conversation was not to be had with friends such as these, and I had not often had it in the past, but I nonetheless found myself longing for it with a sort of fierce wistfulness. I tried not to disparage the calm, productive haven I had found, but it was sorely empty of drama.
    My days too were mostly uneventful. I spent many of my daylight hours in the underground facility which housed the manor’s Arkady converter. Among other things, it was my task daily to monitor the tritium-deuterium mix, activate the waste disposal systems, and check all the electrical lines feeding from the generator. Some small adjustment always had to be made, and I was filled with a sense of accomplishment any time I caught and diagnosed a problem. Because of my vigilance, disaster was averted.
    This was, if extrapolated to the direst possible consequences, really true. A malfunctioning generator could poison the whole household, leading to lingering illness and eventual death; a breakdown in the electrical system could compromise the integrity of the forcefields, allowing the thin, toxic atmosphere of the planet to suffocate or poison us all. When I thought about it, it gave me pause: We were here on Fieldstar, all of us, at the sufferance of science. If science failed, or was misused, we would all be dead.
    Sometimes I looked around me at the construction of my basement fortress. Imported, every stone, every metal alloy—every drop of water in the hydraulic converter, every atom in the carefully mixed, carefully contained atmosphere. Fieldstar had possessed none of these riches in its natural state. A desirable natural nuclear fuel—yes, that it possessed in abundance, and men had reinvented the planet in