Power Lines
- Автор: Маккефри Энн, Скарборо Элизабет
- Серия: Petaybee #2
- Язык: английский
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Power Lines». Краткое содержание книги:
Only solid evidence would convince the company to leave the planet alone, and for all its sentience, Petaybee's communications were highly subjective; indeed, some outsiders seemed entirely immune to its voice. So Yana and her friends would have to find some other way to prove that the planet was worth more to the company alive than dead...
Faber braked suddenly as a trio of orange-striped cats jumped out in the middle of the road just ahead of them.
"My word, do they often commit suicide that way?"
"My fault," Whit said sheepishly. "Should'a told you to stop at that house on the left. That's where I'm working and where you should start."
"But if you're working there, Whit, I don't want to intrude…"
"I'm working outside, Marmie," Whittaker said, opening the door of the vehicle. The cats emerged from under the ancient 4x4, prrrowing to him; two of them propped front paws up on his knees to be petted. The third spoke to him, then turned to wait at the passenger door. "You're invited inside," he added. "That's good, believe me."
"I'm always agreeable to invitations," Marmion replied, signaling for Faber to descend, as well. "What a marvelous shade of orange," she said directly to the cat. When it turned, tail tip idly swaying high above its body, she followed. "Mirandabelle Turvey-West would give her eye teeth for a hair dye that shade, just wouldn't she!" she murmured under her breath.
The cat shot up the muddy steps. Marmion, eschewing Faber's out held hand, managed to place her booted feet carefully in the drier spots.
The door opened as they reached the porch and one of the largest, most impressive-looking women Marmion had ever seen, with a complexion to die for and a smile that was the most beautiful thing so far about Kilcoole, stood in the opening.
"Slainte, Whittaker, Miz Algemeine, Colonel Nike, grand morning for a ride, is it not? I'm Clodagh Senungatuk. I'm that pleased to meet you. Come in. I've fresh coffee and some decent baking just out of the oven."
Warmed by the welcome, Marmion held out her hand, to have it briefly but kindly shaken and given back slightly floured. Then Faber was met with the same cordial treatment.
"The new shingles got here first light, Whit" Clodagh said, "but you've time for a bite and a sup first.''
"Hey, that's good," Whit said with more enthusiasm than Marmion remembered him showing. "I can probably finish the roof today. Maybe I'll just get started, Clodagh, and grab a bite later."
With a nod to the other two. he tramped to the edge of the porch and hopped off. A brief explosive exhalation reached the others.
"Leg's not good enough yet to be jarred by leaping as if he was young again," Clodagh said, tsking-tsking as she shooed her bemused guests inside.
Marmion's first shock at the interior dissolved with the scent of spicy warm bread and her instant realization that this small home-and home it definitely was-was actually highly organized and astonishingly neat if you looked past what might be cursorily dismissed as "clutter." There were, however, more cats inside who, one after the other, strolled over to make personal evaluations of the newcomers.
"Did we pass? Marmion asked as Clodagh gestured her to the rocking chair and motioned Faber to a sturdy bench.
Clodagh delayed answering until she had served her guests coffee and freshly baked hot cinnamon rolls, and placed a pitcher of milk and a huge bowl of sweetener before them. Refilling her own cup, she sat across from Marmion, her elbows on the table, placidly smiling.
"I've always had a lot of cats around," she began.
"All of them orange?" Marmion asked. "Or are they a singularly unique Petaybean breed?"
'You could definitely say that."
"I just did. My, these rolls are delicious," Marmion said, lightly changing topics. "And thank goodness you know how to make proper coffee. Doesn't she, Faber?"
"Yes, indeed, you do, Miz Senungatuk," Faber said, smiling in that unexpectedly charming fashion that had disarmed many folk more worldly than Clodagh. Clodagh grinned and winked at him for his accurate pronunciation of her last name. That was another trait Marmion admired in Faber Nike. "Are you able to get regular supplies?"
Clodagh grunted. "Whit got this batch. Said it was a bleeding shame what SpaceBase did to unprotected coffee beans." She nodded to a corner of her crowded workspace. "I grind them myself when I need them, and keep them frozen till I do."
"Wouldn't that be a bit difficult to do right now?" Marmion asked delicately.
"Nah. Even the thaw doesn't affect the permafrost cache much."
"Ah, yes!" Marmion said. "I have read, of course, of the permafrost layer that is so like frozen rock, but I had not appreciated until now its practical applications."
"Well, usually we only use it in summer," Clodagh said.
"So then good coffee is as much a treat for you as it is for us," Marmion said and took another grateful sip. The milk in the pitcher had been fresh, too, cream rising to the top. Judging by various-sized lumps, the sweetener had also been home-ground.
"That it is," Clodagh said.
Marmion felt something press against her lower leg and dropped one hand to touch a furry skull, which she obediently scratched.
"Your cats survive the extremes of Petaybee's temperatures?"
"Bred for it. A course, they're smart to begin with, and they use their instincts, too."
"As do most of you living here on Petaybee, I'd say," Marmion remarked, getting closer to the purpose of her visit.
Clodagh folded her arms in front of her and said emphatically, "We've learned to live here. I wouldn't much want to live anywhere else."
As shrewd a woman as she'd ever encountered, Marmion decided approvingly.
"I shouldn't like to see you anywhere else but here in your home, dispensing superb hospitality to those lucky enough to find their way here, Miz Senungatuk," Marmion went on. "It's so rare these days to find people content with what they are and where they are."
Clodagh regarded her for one long moment, taking in Marmion's practical but elegant outfit, as well as her expressive face.
"Not knowing who you are or where you belong can cause a person a lot of problems. This planet's not an easy place to live, but it's what we're all used to and we manage fine."
Hovering in the air were the unspoken words: when we're left alone to get on with our lives as we want to live them.
"Would you have enough coffee left in the pot for me to have another half cup, Miz Senungatuk?" Marmion asked, fingers laced about her cup so she wouldn't appear to expect the extra indulgence.
Clodagh's face lost the tension it had been displaying and suddenly softened into a smile. "Please call me Clodagh. I'm more used to it."
"Marmion is what my friends call me. Even Marmie's allowed." And the very wealthy, very clever Dame Algemeine held her cup out as unassumingly as any supplicant.
"You, too, Faber Nike? Clodagh asked when she had filled Marmion more than halfway.
"Don't mind if I do… Clodagh."
Clodagh poured him some more coffee, then passed the rolls around again.
"I had hoped to meet more of the people of Kilcoole, Clodagh," Marmion said, her tone brisker now. "I'm here as I believe Whit will have told you, to investigate the unusual events which the planet seems to be taking the blame for."
"Planet's not taking any blame, Marmion," Clodagh said with a grin and a dismissive wave of her hand. "Planet's doing what's needful, too. Showing folks what it will and will not allow done to it. Same's you wouldn't want a lot of holes dug in your front yard or pieces of your garden blown up. Whittaker got that message loud and clear, but that son of his didn't. Nor some others-but the ones who did understood real well."
"You know the planet did this on its own cognizance?" Faber asked, his voice gentle, the way he spoke when he didn't want to scare misinformation out of people.
"If you mean did the planet do it without us helping it, yes. Not that anybody could help a planet if it's got its own mind made up and is perfectly capable of making that known."