Бен Бова - Uranus

“Indeed so.”

It was a long day. Without leaving Raven’s apartment, Fremont used the living room’s wall screen to show her the layout of station Haven, everything from the cafeterias and formal dining rooms to the clinic and the recreational facilities. Raven took it all in, asking questions, nodding at the answers.

As noon approached, Raven went to the kitchen and found the makings for sandwiches. Cathy Fremont nibbled away happily without stopping the orientation for more than a moment or two.

Inwardly, Raven was asking herself, How can I get close to Evan Waxman? How can I make him notice me?

As the digital readout at the bottom of the wall screen reached 4:00 P.M. Fremont said, “I think that’s enough for one day. Tomorrow you will take a battery of aptitude tests, so we can determine what kind of work you’re best suited for.”

Dropping her eyes respectfully, Raven said, “I’m afraid I don’t have much experience at anything useful.”

Fremont smiled reassuringly. “Oh, don’t be too sure of that. We’ve found great stores of talent among our new arrivals, talents that most of them didn’t realize that they had.”

Raven smiled back at her, but she thought, Is fellatio one of the talents you’re looking for?

For the next three months, Raven attended school. Back in Naples she had been forced to go to school whenever the authorities picked her off the streets.

“For your own good,” they would tell her. “To improve yourself.”

But the dreary classes in the stifling, oppressive rooms taught her nothing except an unbearable yearning to get out, get free, get back on the streets where she could use her brains and her body to live on her own. Even a beating was better than sitting through the droning lectures and pretending to read the stupid books they forced on her.

Here on Haven, though, school was very different. She studied in her apartment, engrossed in virtual reality programs that immersed her in the subjects she explored. History became real to her: she lived in ancient Rome, in modern Euro-America. She saw how mathematics worked and stored the new knowledge in her brain. She learned how her own body worked, and marveled at the wonderful intricacy of her cellular machinery.

Without realizing it, at first, Raven began to learn.

She learned how the habitat Haven was governed, how the poor, ignorant newcomers were transformed into productive, intelligent citizens who actually helped to govern the habitat’s growing population.

I could become a councilwoman, Raven realized one afternoon. I could be one of the people who gives orders, who makes decisions, who directs how the others live.

Evan Waxman would have to notice me then, she told herself.

She made friends among the other newcomers, and even among the people who had been there longer, who were now part of the government of Haven . One of those friends was Quincy O’Donnell, the big, beefy watchman who had guided Raven’s group when they’d first arrived at Haven .

One afternoon, as she was taking lunch in the main cafeteria after a morning of exhausting examinations by the education department’s central computer, Quincy O’Donnell came up to her table carrying a tray loaded to its edges with a salad, a sandwich, a hefty slab of pie, a big cup of juice and a dainty jewel of chocolate topped by a pink sliver of candy.

“D’you mind if I sit with you?” he asked, his voice quavering slightly.

Raven gave him a minimal smile and said, “No, I don’t mind at all. Sit right down.”

O’Donnell placed his tray carefully on the small table across from her and settled his bulk in the spindly-legged chair.

Then he picked up the tiny chocolate piece delicately, in two fingers, and placed it on Raven’s tray.

“For you,” he said, the expression on his heavy-featured face somewhere between expectant and apprehensive.

“Why, thank you,” said Raven, surprised.

O’Donnell broke into a sloppy grin, then grabbed his sandwich and tore a huge bite out of it.

Raven smiled demurely at him. By the time they had finished their lunches they were chatting like old friends.

They got up from their chairs, O’Donnell towering over her.

“I… uh,” he stammered, “I thought… well, maybe we could have dinner together sometime.”

Keeping her smile fixed in place, Raven replied, “That would be nice.”

O’Donnell nodded happily and mumbled, “I’ll call you.”

“Fine,” said Raven. Then she watched the big man lumber away, as if fleeing some ogre.

He’ll be easy to keep on a leash, she told herself as she watched his retreating back. Like a big puppy. Just don’t let him get too close.

When she got back to her apartment, Raven’s wall screen showed a notification to appear at Cathy Fremont’s office at 0900 hours the next morning.

She sank down onto the sofa in her living room, staring at the message on the screen, biting her lip in consternation. What have I done wrong? she asked herself, alarmed. She wondered, Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to have dinner with Quincy. Maybe…

With a shake of her head, she decided it was pointless to try to guess why she’d been summoned. Just go to Fremont’s office and face the music, she told herself.

But her dreams that night were of old Naples, dark and filled with danger.

The next morning, Raven marched herself to Fremont’s office, rehearsing in her mind what she would reply to any accusation her orientation leader would level at her. I didn’t do it. I didn’t know it was against the rules. I won’t do it again.

But she didn’t know what “it” was.

Cathy Fremont rose from her desk chair as Raven stepped into her office.

“Good morning,” Fremont said cheerfully.

Raven muttered a “good morning” and slipped into the chair before Fremont’s desk.

Hiking a thumb toward the viewscreen on her office wall, Fremont smiled and said, “You’ve done very well with your studies. Your grades are among the highest we’ve ever seen.”

Taken aback, Raven replied merely, “They are?”

“Yes, they are,” Fremont answered happily. “There’s a first-rate mind inside your skull, Raven.”

Raven blinked with surprise.

Fremont stared at Raven for a long, unsettling moment. Here it comes, Raven thought. She softens me up with good news, and now comes the sledgehammer.

But Fremont’s smile widened slightly as she leaned back in her desk chair and said, “I think you might be able to help us with a situation that’s about to arise. That is, if you want to.”

“Help you?”

“You’ve probably never heard of Tómas Gomez, have you?”

Raven shook her head.

“I thought not. He’s an astronomer, from Chile, in South America.”

“An astronomer,” Raven echoed.

“He’s coming here to Haven because he wants to study Uranus. We need someone to show him around, get him settled, familiarize him with our habitat.”

Suddenly it clicked in Raven’s mind. I haven’t done anything wrong! She doesn’t want to punish me. She’s asking me to help her!

“You want me to be his guide?”

“Yes. Only for his first few days. Help him get his feet on the ground, so to speak. Help him get his equipment set up.”

Raven said, “I don’t know anything about astronomy.”

“That’s no problem. What we need is someone to make Gomez feel comfortable here in Haven . Get him settled in. I believe he plans to stay here for at least a year, perhaps longer.”

“I can do that,” Raven said.

Before she could think about how she might make the man comfortable, Fremont’s smile evaporated.