Jenna Starborn (10 page)

I shook my head twice, to shake away such thoughts, and went quickly into the house.

It was nearly dinnertime, and I was not sure I was in a presentable state. I had not combed my hair during the long day, nor checked my face for smudges, nor thought to straighten my tunic over my trousers, and the bus had been none too clean, and there was no telling what smears of grease—or blood!—I might have acquired from my adventure in the airlock. So I hurried to my room, grateful that I managed to arrive there unseen by any other residents of the house, and there freshened myself up.

What a day! What a day, indeed.

By dinnertime I was both clean and composed, and I made my way with my usual soberness down to the dining room. But no one there matched my own state of calm. The table was set, but no one was yet sitting in her place. Mrs. Farraday was speaking with a great deal of animation to the cook, Miss Ayerson was examining her reflection in a mirror and attempting to smooth some style into her flat locks, and Ameletta was jumping up and down on one foot as she attempted to circle the table.

Mrs. Farraday broke off when she saw me. “Oh, Jenna! We were getting worried about you. Miss Ayerson saw the bus go by nearly an hour ago, and we were afraid you had somehow missed it. No one saw you come in.”

“I'm sorry. I was covered with dirt and wanted a chance to clean myself up, so I went straight to my room. But what is going on here? Everyone seems excited.”

“Excited! Yes, I should say so! I learned this afternoon that Mr. Ravenbeck would be coming in tonight, and I am on the verge of being unprepared. Fortunately, he is not expecting any guests—at least, not immediately—so it is just a matter of making sure his rooms are aired and a fit dinner is prepared.”

The owner of Thorrastone Park? Arriving here tonight?

“That is wonderful news,” I said slowly. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Oh—no—just excuse me from dinner, I fear. I have too much to do to think of eating.”

So saying, she disappeared through the door, following the cook. I glanced at Miss Ayerson, who had gone to Ameletta's side to convince her to show her enthusiasm in a more acceptable fashion. She looked up with the cool half-smile that was her warmest expression.

“Well,” she said, “we may as well eat.”

So the three of us sat down to dinner, but though I ate heartily enough, I did not pay much attention to the food. “Mr. Ravenbeck,” I said finally. “What does he look like? I think I may have seen him arriving as I was crossing the lawn.”

“He is a dark man, solidly built,” she replied.

“Youngish?”

“In his forties, perhaps,” she said. “I would not call that young.”

“To own such an extensive property,” I amended.

“I believe he inherited most of it from his father and his brother,” she replied. She spooned more vegetables onto Ameletta's plate and told her to eat. “Who are dead,” she added.

“I beg your pardon? Who is dead?”

“His father and brother. All of his family, as far as I'm aware.”

“That's unfortunate.”

She gave me that cool smile again. “As you and I both know.”

“When did he come into his property?”

“Five or six years ago, I believe. I don't know that much about him, actually. He has seldom been to Thorrastone during my tenure.”

“So this visit is a rare occurrence.”

“Rare and no doubt brief. He will want to meet you,” she said, in what seemed to me a sudden change of subject.

“He will? Does he meet all the new staff members?”

She nodded. “He prides himself on knowing the name of everyone in his employ, from servants to miners. I think that is a fairly admirable trait.”

“Indeed, yes,” I said, thinking,
I believe I have already met him.
Would he want to repeat the introduction under more regular circumstances? I was glad now I had taken the time to restyle my hair and put on a clean overshirt. I did not like to appear so vain as to insist upon changing my clothing
now,
just when I learned I was about to be called into the owner's presence. On the other hand—ah, much more likely!—he might decide to put off the meeting for a day or two, till he had recovered from his accident and rested from his travels. I need not have taken any care with my appearance after all.

Ameletta chose this moment to join in the conversation. “He will have brought me presents,” she said. “A pretty doll, and a new computer game, and—”

“Ameletta,” Miss Ayerson admonished. “You must not ask Mr. Ravenbeck to shower you with gifts.”

“I do not need to ask him!” the girl replied, wide-eyed with innocence. “He chooses to do so! And, yes, I am very, very grateful!”

I could not help smiling at this, but Miss Ayerson did not seem amused. I left her to the instruction of her pupil in social civilities, and bent my attention to finishing my meal.

We had just finished our dessert when Mrs. Farraday bustled back in, looking just as flustered as before, though quite happy in her commotion. This was what she lived for, after all, the chance to show off her housekeeping skills to her employer.

“Ameletta! Miss Ayerson! Mr. Ravenbeck would like you to join him in his study in half an hour. I believe he has some treats for you, hmm, Ameletta? But you must first prove to him that you have been doing your lessons, for I don't believe girls who do not know their math problems will be entitled to any presents.”

I smiled at the storm of protest this evoked (“But I do! I know every single multiplication table, and
all
of the addition!”) and turned toward the door. Mrs. Farraday called me back.

“And, Jenna! Mr. Ravenbeck asked if you would be willing to meet with him ninety minutes from now. Also in his study.”

I turned back to face her, my eyebrows lifted. “Willing? He is my employer. How could I refuse?”

“He thought the hour might be too late for you.” In ninety minutes it would be eight o'clock, as time was kept on Fieldstar.

“No, indeed, I will be up for another three or four hours. I will be happy to join him when he wishes.”

I said this with my usual calm demeanor, but I must confess my heart was beating just a shade faster than usual.
Silly woman!
I reprimanded myself.
You cannot be so pleased at the thought of seeing such an uncouth man so soon again!
But that was indeed the source of my pleasure. I wandered to the library, to pass the intervening time browsing through the news reports of the day, but I have to confess, very little information registered in my brain. The ninety minutes passed as slowly as ninety days, but at last it was time for me to go and formally meet the master of Thorrastone Park.

 

 

T
he second-story study was a small, pleasant room, too dark with heavy drapery and wood paneling to suit my tastes, but just now brightly lit with an array of high-watt lights that gave the room a rather cheery aspect. Miss Ayerson and her pupil were off in a corner, trying out the new computer game that Ameletta had evidently received, and Mrs. Farraday hovered at the doorway, awaiting my arrival. I walked in exactly on the stroke of eight.

“Punctuality!” a male voice announced from the depths of an armchair turned away from me; I could not see the speaker's face. “I like that in an employee—indeed, in anyone.”

Mrs. Farraday smiled at me, but she was still fluttering. “Jenna! Come over here and meet Mr. Ravenbeck. He cannot rise to take your hand,” she said in an undervoice that everyone else must have been able to hear, “because he twisted his ankle this afternoon in a dreadful aircar accident.”

“I would hardly call it dreadful,” that voice said again. “Stupid is more like it. But it has left me, for the moment anyway, a bit unsteady on my feet.”

By this time we had strolled forward so that we were standing directly in front of the speaker. It was, as I had guessed from his voice, the man I had aided in the downed aircar only a few hours ago. In the bright room light, I confirmed the impressions I had formed by dusk: Mr. Ravenbeck had full, strong features, masses of dark hair, and snapping black eyes that just now seemed to be shaded with a hint of malice. He was smiling at me, but it was not precisely a welcoming smile—more like a challenging one. I repressed my natural instinct to smile in return, and merely nodded at him.

“Mr. Ravenbeck,” Mrs. Farraday said, “this is Jenna Starborn, our new generator technician.”

Mr. Ravenbeck held out his hand and grasped mine with all the strength he had claimed he did not have when he said he could not operate his convertible lever. “Miss Starborn,” he said, emphasizing my surname. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“And I yours, sir,” I answered. He released my hand almost immediately and gestured toward another armchair, placed so that it faced his across the distance of a few feet. “Take a seat, please, so that we may talk awhile. I would like to learn a little of my new technician.”

Mrs. Farraday said “Oh!” in a small, surprised voice. I therefore realized she had assumed that I would make my curtsy, so to speak, and be instantly out of the room. “Would you like something to drink, sir?” she asked. “Anything more to eat?”

He waved her away somewhat impatiently. “No, no, I'm quite settled, thank you. I will not be interrogating Miss Starborn long enough or with such vigor that I will require additional sustenance.”

A small frown flitted across Mrs. Farraday's face—clearly she did not think such banter appropriate—but I confess that a renegade smile came to my own lips. I tried to repress it before my employer could see, and I seated myself where he had indicated. Mrs. Farraday, after a moment's hesitation, crossed the room to join Ameletta and Miss Ayerson.

“So! Miss Starborn. Tell me about yourself,” Mr. Ravenbeck said after a short silence.

I raised my eyebrows at this, for that was a rather comprehensive directive. “What exactly is it that you wish to know?” I asked. “My educational background? My qualifications for the job? My opinion of your Arkady Core Converter? Only ask me and I will be happy to oblige.”

His face registered a mix of responses—irritation at my deliberate obtuseness but a certain enjoyment of my verbal quickness, as well. At least, so I read the expression on his face. “Those facts I can obtain from your résumé—all except your opinions of my nuclear systems, and that we can get to later. Tell me about yourself. Where you were born, what kind of family you come from.”

“I have no family and I was not born,” I replied.

“No family! Not born! Then you are some sort of mist-creature, conjured up by the fumes of Fieldstar's buried dubronium mines or the souls of the native creatures who were exorcised from this planet when we settled it.”

“I understood that Fieldstar had no native life when the Allegiance took it over for terraforming.”

He pointed a finger at me. “Ah! That is what we all understood. But I have seen a strange creature now and then, slinking quickly into shadows when I passed by, and it bears no shape or features I recognize from my domestic textbooks. Thus I must assume it is a product of the planet itself, and resents my presence here, and would harm me if it could. Which is why I am perfectly willing to believe you the embodiment of such a creature, for, as you know, I blame you for my little accident this evening.”

I could not hold back a smile at this. “I still deny being even the smallest cause of your misfortune.”

“But you do not, I notice, so readily deny being called an agent of Fieldstar out to reclaim your own.”

“I have been called worse,” I said. “I would be honored to be accepted into the fabric and structure of Fieldstar and deemed a part of the planet.”

“Would you, indeed, Miss Starborn? That is a strange thing to say. You have not been here above a month and yet already you experience a kinship with this rather inhospitable rock on the edge of an unfriendly galaxy. How could you so quickly have come to love such an unlovable place?”

“Is Thorrastone Park so unlovable?” I countered.

“To me it is. For more reasons than its dreary skies and unforgiving soil. But you have not answered the question! Why is it you feel any affinity for this world at all?”

“I feel an affinity with all places, all living creatures. I believe each offers its own delights, if we can but find them. But more than that, I believe we all share a commonality that gives us a bond even when we do not immediately sense it.”

He threw his head against the back of the chair; had he been a stallion or some other wild beast, he would have reared back. “I cannot believe it! You are one of the PanEquists! For such is their philosophy.”

I nodded calmly. From the corner of my eye, I saw Mrs. Farraday look up, for his voice had been loud enough to be heard across the room. I was not sure she knew the term—but if she did know it, I was sure she would not like it.

“Indeed, I am,” I said.

“But this is amazing! I have never met one face-to-face—never hoped to have such a chance to debate doctrine with one. For, let me be honest with you, I cannot believe any sensible person could subscribe to such a theory as universal equality among all races and creatures.”

“And living organisms and nonliving organisms and synthetic and natural things,” I added, for the religion makes no distinctions at all.

“But—this is absurd! You are telling me that the people of this faith—that you—that anyone could equate a living, breathing human being with a—with a rock? A
tree?
The metal hull of a spaceship? All these things are the same to you?”