The Tattooed Tribes (2 page)

Jon’s interest
died, the boy was nothing more than a sensation seeker and he had
seen enough variations of them in the last week to last him a
lifetime.

“
And which of the books have
you
r
ead?” he asked. “I
don’t see you as a ‘
Love Under the Canopy
’ fan, so was it ‘
The Tribal Blade
’ or ‘
Tattooed Warrior’
?”

“
That junk!” Ian said scornfully. “My
mother reads it, I don’t!”

Jon’s interest
dragged itself out of the grave. “None of it?”

Ian grinned, “I did look at the pictures
in ‘
Tattooed
Warrior’.
They were
great, but most of those books are just stories, they aren’t
real.”

“
A lot of people think they
are.”

“
Yeah,” Ian laughed. “I saw some of them
while I was waiting. Most of ‘em would faint at the sight of fish
guts.”

Again he
leaned forward in his eagerness.

“
I can catch fish,” he said. “And clean and
gut them. And I can make a fire. I’ve done loads of camping. I know
the woods, the ones near the Settlement at least, but I want to see
the real forest and its people and learn what makes them tick. I
want to learn everything.”

Here at last
was a possible candidate, not perhaps an ideal one, and Jon was
still bothered by the reckless air, but compared to most of what he
had seen so far, there was potential here.

“
Give me your file,” he said.

A wary look
spread across Ian’s face. “File?”

“
Yes. I’d like to see your school reports
and your examination results,” Jon replied. “You aren’t yet
eighteen, so parental consult will be required. I presume they’ll
be assisting you with the indenture fees.”

The colour
drained from Ian’s face. “Indenture fees?”

“
Yes, fees,” Jon agreed. “We don’t train
you for nothing.”

“
Oh.”

“
Is there a problem?”

“
Um ... how much are we talking
about?”

“
Five hundred. Plus another twenty for
drawing up the contract of indenture.”

“
Five hundred and twenty!” Ian
gasped.

“
I’m afraid so.”

“
Could I work it off?”

“
How? As an apprentice you get paid a tiny
allowance. We feed you, clothe you and teach you. Your fees barely
cover those costs.”

Suddenly the
devil was gone and with him went the self-confidence, the swagger
and the eager light in Ian’s eyes. What remained was a whey-faced
boy who only just controlled his wobbling lower lip by clamping his
jaws tight.

“
There’s no way round it?” he finally
asked, a small break in his voice.

“
None I know of.”

“
I see.” He sat in unmoving silence for a
minute; then shot to his feet. “I’m sorry I wasted your time,” he
said and fled the room.

“
Damn,” Machin said. “I thought he might
have been the one.”

Jon was not so
sure, there was much about Ian that bothered him, but he knew the
boy’s wounded look would remain with him for a long while.

Oddly
disheartened, the three Master TLOs called a halt to the proceeding
for the day and retired to the comfort of dinner and a bottle.

Things were not
much better the following day. A succession of over romantic boys
and girls were interspersed with a number of shady characters whose
motives for wanting access to the hinterland were suspicious at
best.

One of these
enterprising gentlemen went so far as to offer a considerable bribe
and all three Masters took enormous pleasure in hurling him out of
the building and into a convenient patch of mud.

However, there
was one promising candidate- a girl. Jon was not sure how he felt
about this, there were plenty of women Master Officers and girl
apprentices, but he did not feel competent to take on a member of
the opposite sex as his first trainee.

There was
something about this young lady, though, to make him wonder if he
was being foolish.

She was a
little older than the usual applicants; tall, slim, with her hair
drawn back in a bun, and exuded an air of mature self-confidence.
Her face was interesting rather than pretty, with a firm jaw that
might or might not speak of character.

“
Good afternoon, gentlemen,” she said,
sitting in a tidy way free of nervous twitching. “My name is Stacey
Wainwright and I am eighteen years old. I realise this is a little
older than you prefer, but my parent wanted me to finish high
school before I applied for this work. I graduated top of my class
with extra credit in ecology, woodcraft and survival training. My
medical shows me to be in perfect health and my psych tests reveal
no hidden phobias to make me unfit for encounters with the less
cuddly types of wildlife.”

Cunliff and
Machin exchange a quick approving look- this was more like it- but
the choice would and must be Jon’s, so they sat back to allow him
to question the girl.

“
Impressive,” Jon said cautiously. “But it
doesn’t tell me why you want this job.”

“
My father is Congressman Eric Wainwright
who has, as I’m sure you are aware, been involved with The Tribal
First Nation and the Colonial Resources Department for many
years.”

“
I thought your name was familiar,” Jon
said dryly.

“
Please don’t judge me by my father,” she
replied, without rancour. “His views on the need for the tribes to
embrace a way of life more in keeping with the needs of modern
society are well known, but I don’t necessarily agree with him.
While I believe some movement could be made in that direction, I
also feel it should not be made without the full understanding and
consent of The First Nation.”

“
Big of you,” Jon muttered under his
breath.

If she heard
him, she chose to pretend she had not.

“
I want to be part of the process that
reconciles the interests of both the tribes and the new
settlers.”

“
Why not work in your father’s
department?”

“
As I said, I don’t feel my father’s views
are necessarily those that will best serve both parties. While I
understand the need for new land to settle, I feel the inherent
rights of The First Nation cannot and must not be ignored. After
all, these people were abandoned by us for over five hundred years;
they have rights that must be respected.”

“
And a way of life that must also be
respected,” Jon said.

“
I agree, but there must be flexibility as
well. This world was colonised by us, it technically still belongs
to us and we have rights over its natural resources the tribes must
eventually come to understand.”

“
Within reason, Ms Wainwright,” Jon
replied. “And within limits. What do you see as the role of a TLO
and your role should I accept you and you make
Journeyman?”

She sat back
with a smile, toying with the heavy bracelet she wore on her left
wrist; she obviously felt she had won some small point.

“
I see the role as it has been for the last
fifty years, providing a buffer between the tribes and the new
settlers. Making sure the natural resources are harvested
responsibly and not exploited recklessly.”

“
As has happened so many times before,”
Machin put in.

She inclined
her head. “Too many times before,” she agreed. “As for my personal
role- the tribes are matriarchal and I believe as a woman I can
bring more understanding and have more influence than perhaps a man
can.”

She gave each
of them a clear, direct look and a smile.

“
I would very much like to have the
opportunity to try.”

Jon, who had
been glancing through her impressive reports and exam results,
wondered why the hell she should not have it, but something held
him back from making an instant decision.

“
Thank you, Stacey,” he said. “We’ve still
have candidates to see over the next week or so, but I think I can
say you will be on the short list.”

The smile this
received was happy and pleasant, but he had the feeling it was not
relieved, as if the owner had never had any doubt of the
outcome.

“
Before you go,” he said as she stood. “I
presume there will be no problem about the indenture
fees?”

“
Hardly,” she replied, and he wondered if
there had been a sneer there or if it had been his
imagination.

The three
Master TLOs relaxed as she left.

“
Impressive.”

“
Very,” Machin agreed.

“
Bitch,” the apprentice remarked in what he
thought was an unheard aside.

“
Keep your opinions to yourself,” his
master growled, spoiling that illusion. “And show the next one
in.”

Blushing
furiously, the boy held the door open and shouted, “Next!”

If Stacey
Wainwright had impressed the same could not be said of what
followed and continued to follow her through an extremely long and
boring day, and would continue for the next three.

In the end Jon
was left frustrated and anxious. The hours of interviews had
produced only four possible candidates for him to choose from and
Stacey Wainwright was far and away the front runner.

He tried to
work out why he was reluctant to commit to her. Was he concerned
that out in the wilderness, alone, he might not be able to keep his
hands off her?

He considered
this, she was young and attractive and she would be totally
dependent on him to keep her safe while she learnt her trade.

Was this the
reason he had been unwilling to take a girl apprentice, because he
did not trust himself to behave responsibly?

After careful
thought he decided it was ridiculous. He was not a slave to his
hormones and anyway, there was something about the girl he found
unappealing.

On the other
hand, what if she flung herself at him? This made him grin; somehow
he did not see Stacey as the flinging type, unlike Phoebe.

There he might
have had problems with the master/apprentice divide. Phoebe
certainly had every intention of reinterpreting it to suit
herself.

He needed to
make his decision soon. The Guild would not wait much longer and if
he did not, they would do it for him.

However, he
had a temporary reprieve; there were rumours of illegal logging in
the high back country far from The Settlement. Someone was needed
to investigate and put an end to it before the loggers were stopped
by a war club.

He left
knowing when he returned he had to put aside his concerns and offer
indenture papers to Stacey. The thought made him profoundly
depressed.

Chapter
2

The illegal
loggers proved more of a problem than first anticipated. They had a
few gold prospectors along with them and it got very nasty, very
quickly.

In the end Jon
was forced to ask for tribal help and there had been deaths on both
sides. The loggers were locked up awaiting trial, but the
prospectors would never pan another river on this world or any
other.

The time away
should have allowed him to consider his choice, but he had been
busy and, if he was honest, he shied away from the task.

Finding a
terse note from The Guild in his mail box reminding him a decision
was required as a matter of some urgency, was an unwelcome reminder
of his duty.

As undesirable
was a missive from Congressman Eric Wainwright.

This, while
not actually instructing him to apprentice Stacey, made it clear it
was expected. There was also a hint of threat, nothing specific,
merely a suggestion of changes to come and Jon wishing to be on the
right side when they came.

He had
returned late and was dog-tired, so he threw both letters to one
side to await the morning.

Jon was an
early riser; life spent mostly in the tribal lands far up river had
taught him not to waste day light. Even a disturbed night full of
oddly anxious dreams failed to keep him in bed much after dawn.

He brewed
strong coffee and went out onto the porch to see what the day
heralded and found something littering his door step.

A closer look showed the
‘
something
’ was a
‘
someone
’.

“
Wake up!” Jon commanded, encouraging the
sleeper with the toe of his boot. He was damned if he was having
every town drunk sleeping it off on his property.

There was a
groan of protest.

“
I said, up!”

A youth
unwound himself and stared up in a dazed fashion. “Okay,” he said,
yawning and scratching his head. “I’m up.”

Jon frowned at
him. The dew had drenched the boy’s clothes, he shivered
uncontrollably and seemed confused, but he did not seem hung
over.

“
What the hell are you doing here?”
demanded Jon.

The boy
scrubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked up. “Waiting for you,”
he said and, despite the shivering, a grin crept out.

Jon remembered
the grin.

“
Have you been here all night?”

“
I spend most nights here,” Ian replied. “I
didn’t want to miss you.”

There were
black shadows under his eyes and in the clear daylight Jon could
see his clothes were filthy and his skin was stretched too tightly
over his big bones. He had obviously been living rough and going
hungry for some time.