“Decided by whom?” I asked.
“By Major Perry,” Hickory said, and then, before I could open my mouth, “and we agree.”
“You two are going to be living with us,” I said. “With all of us. People need to get used to you.”
“We agree, and they will have time,” Hickory said. “But for now we think it’s better to give your people time to get used to each other.” I opened my mouth to respond, but then Hickory said, “Do you not benefit from our absence at the moment?”
I remembered Gretchen’s comment earlier in the day about how the other teens would never come up to us if Hickory and Dickory were always hanging around, and felt a little bit ashamed. “I don’t want you to think I don’t want you around,” I said.
“We do not believe that,” Hickory said. “Please do not think that. When we are on Roanoke we will resume our roles. People will be more accepting of us because they will have had time to know you.”
“I still don’t want you to think you have to stay in here because of me,” I said. “It would drive me crazy to be cooped up in here for a week.”
“It is not difficult for us,” Hickory said. “We disconnect our consciousnesses until we need them again. Time flies by that way.”
“That was very close to a joke,” I said.
“If you say so,” Hickory said.
I smiled. “Still, if that’s the only reason you stay in here—”
“I did not say it was the only reason,” Hickory said, interrupting me, which it almost never did. “We are also spending this time preparing.”
“For life on Roanoke?” I asked.
“Yes,” Hickory said. “And how we will be of best service to you when we are there.”
“I think by just doing what you do,” I said.
“Possibly,” Hickory said. “We think you might be underestimating how much different Roanoke will be from your life before, and what our responsibilities will be to you.”
“I know it’s going to be different,” I said. “I know it’s going to be harder in a lot of ways.”
“We are glad to hear that,” Hickory said. “It will be.”
“Enough so that you’re spending all this time planning?” I asked.
“Yes,” Hickory said. I waited a second to hear if anything else was coming after that, but there wasn’t.
“Is there anything you want me to do?” I asked Hickory. “To help you?”
Hickory took a second to respond. I watched it to see what I could sense from it; after this many years, I was pretty good at reading its moods. Nothing seemed unusual or out of place. It was just Hickory.
“No,” Hickory said, finally. “We would have you do what you are doing. Meeting new people. Becoming friends with them. Enjoying your time now. When we arrive at Roanoke we do not expect you will have as much time for enjoyment.”
“But you’re missing out on all my fun,” I said. “You’re usually there to record it.”
“This one time you can get along without us,” Hickory said. Another near joke. I smiled again and gave them both a hug just as my PDA vibrated to life. It was Gretchen.
“Your boyfriend really sucks at dodgeball,” she said. “He just took a hit square on his nose. He says to tell you the pain isn’t nearly as enjoyable if you’re not around to laugh at it. So come on down and ease the poor boy’s pain. Or add to it. Either works.”
ELEVEN
Things to know about the life of Zo?, on the Magellan.
First, John and Jane’s master plan to keep the teenage boys from killing themselves or others worked like a charm, which meant I grudgingly had to admit to Dad he’d done something smart, which he enjoyed probably more than he should have. Each of the dodgeball teams became their own little group, counterpointing with the already-established groups of kids from former colonies. It might have been a problem if everyone just switched their tribe allegiance to their teams, because then we’d have just substituted one sort of group stupidity for another. But the kids still felt allegiance to their homeworld friends as well, at least one of whom was likely to be on an opposing dodgeball team. It kept everyone friendly, or at least kept some of the more aggressively stupid kids in check until everyone could get over the urge to pick fights.
Or so it was explained to me by Dad, who continued to be pleased with himself. “So you can see how we weave a subtle web of interpersonal connection,” he said to me, as we watched one of the dodgeball games.
“Oh, Lord,” Savitri, who was sitting with us, said. “The self-satisfaction here is going to make me gag.”
“You’re just jealous that you didn’t think it up,” Dad said to Savitri.
“I did think it up,” Savitri said. “Part of it, anyway. I and Jane helped with this plan, as I’m sure you recall. You’re just taking all the credit.”
“These are despicable lies,” Dad said.