Free The Silver Ship and the Sea by Brenda Cooper Page A

Let it breathe.”
    “All right. But have Paloma look at it tomorrow.”
    I climbed into bed, sighing as the soft mattress cradled my sore body, and instantly drifted off.
    Some time later, pain from the bruises in my side jolted me awake. My stomach growled, and the spicy taste of the stew filled my empty mouth. I watched Destiny’s trail of light across my wall for a long while, trying to will myself back to sleep. Finally, I pushed up and limped out my door. I heard Tom and Nava moving around the kitchen even though the night was half gone. Nava’s voice carried to me before I reached the doorway; I paused to listen. “You have to succeed soon. We need to finish fixing our security and I just can’t afford the resources to do it the slow way.”
    Tom kept his voice low and I had to strain to hear his answer. “We managed before we had Joseph’s skills. He’s hurting, Nava, he felt his parents’ death.”
    “They weren’t his parents,” she snapped.
    “He thinks so. They thought so, too. Why did you agree to take them if you didn’t intend to be a parent? They need protection.”
    “Hmmm…like going out onto the Grass Plains and almost getting killed?” A pot banged against the sink. “It’s more likely we’ll need protection from them. They’re growing up, getting stronger. What will we do with them as adults?”
    I barely breathed.
    “What do we need protection from?” Tom asked. “They trust us, they help.”
    Nava’s voice was pitched low, but firm. “You know how strong they are. How much they can do. Look at that wild woman in the woods. Can you imagine what damage five of her—or seven—could cause?”
    Tom laughed softly. “And you think they’re just going to rise up some night and revolt? Seven of them against all of us? They need the colony, and the colony needs them.”
    I heard dishes in the sink. I’d have to go in or go back soon.
    Tom continued. “Try building bridges with them. Jenna hasn’t done any harm since just after the rest of them took off. She’s helped us.”
    “Tom, she killed my father.”
    I hadn’t known that. Tom’s voice was pitched very low as he said, “But Chelo and Joseph didn’t. Besides, you know it probably wasn’t Jenna.”
    “If it wasn’t her, it was one of her kind.”
    I heard footsteps coming toward the door, and rushed quietly back to my room, my hunger forgotten.

5
The Roamers’ Return
    I didn’t get back to the science guild the next day either. Everyone worked together to protect the harvest and finish repairing damaged buildings, fences, barns, and pipes. So I dragged through bagging flour at the mill, my leg stiff, my head running over and over the conversation I’d overheard the night before. No wonder Nava had such a terrible time with us. I knew the emptiness of losing a father. Twice over. But how did that change the rift between her and me? Between Nava and all of us? The long day brought me no answers, just hands sticky with sweat and flour.
    As soon as the end-of-shift bell rang, instead of walking home across the river to Artistos, I went behind the mill and crossed to the open space behind the wood shop and the smelter. The freight yard had already emptied out. The buildings were squat and utilitarian, metal or stone with no decoration.
    The data networks ensure little privacy exists in Artistos, but we had adopted the freight yard as a relatively quiet place to meet. Here, the data net and warning bells nestled far out in the edge of forest, to avoid false alarms triggered by the normal activities of loading and unloading ore and cut wood, of moving materials, and so on.
    Raw trunks of golden brown near-elm lay neatly stacked to dry along one fence. Large bins of reddish iron ore and black coal stood near the smelter. I walked across the open space, and pushedthrough the low branches of a tent tree on the far side, left standing for a shady lunch spot. Three long flat benches with no backs sat halfway between the trunk