Searching for Jhy Okiah, Cesca found that the old woman had suited up and gone outside to drift among the conjoined rocks, inspecting the girders and cables that held the asteroid cluster together. The connector beams kept Rendezvous from flying apart under its own gravity and inertia. The red dwarf’s dull light shed thick illumination as clan ships came and went.
Because she had lived for so many years in the extreme low gravity of Rendezvous, Jhy Okiah could never endure the oppressive tug of a planet again. Her bones were brittle despite exercise and mineral supplements. She was simply old, yet she showed no signs of weakness. She insisted on doing useful work for the Roamers.
The cold emptiness might not have been the best place to have a conversation or bare her soul, but Cesca suited up anyway. She used her exhaust jets to maneuver along the pocked exteriors of the rocky debris that formed cozy habitats.
When she was younger, Cesca and other clan children had joined the Governess compy UR in learning how to use a protective suit for space excursions. All Roamers had to become proficient in such skills.
Jetting forward to where Jhy Okiah tinkered with connector bolts driven deep into the main asteroid, Cesca activated the line-of-sight communicator. Provided they were close enough to each other, she and the former Speaker could have a completely private communication.
The old woman floated carefree, relaxing her arms and legs. Her long gray hair was confined in her helmet. “Plenty of clan members are qualified for this inspection duty, Cesca. Don’t you have more important work? Or are you practicing for your retirement already, like me?”
“You make that comment so often, I have to wonder if you don’t like talking to me anymore.”
“I’m just remembering that I never had time for wandering around like this.”
Cesca pulled her way closer along a girder. “You taught me to keep in touch with the clans. Roamers are held together by connections of family and friendship, as you taught me yourself. Besides, after cutting off trade with the Big Goose we’ll have a few more people cut off from their usual activities. And Jess is gone with his volunteers . . .” Her voice trailed off.
“And you miss him.”
“Of course I miss him. But I also admire his new passion, tackling an amazing mission that may save us all. Governing the clans is always a full-time job, but I’d like to do something significant while waiting for the Hansa response. Roamers have so much potential.”
Jhy Okiah chuckled. “Even if you don’t exactly agree with the clan leaders and their rigid embargo, I have no doubt you’ll get us through this.”
“I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop. We haven’t heard a word of response from the Big Goose. What’s taking them so long?”
“Bureaucracy, no doubt.”
Cesca sighed, as always weighed down by the responsibilities of her office. “We’re preparing a contact team to go to the Ildiran Empire, to propose trade terms with the new Mage-Imperator. We’ve sent out feelers to some of the smaller Hansa colonies that were already cut off, since they’re not getting any help and support from Earth.”
She looked through her faceplate at all the activity around Rendezvous. Roamer business had been quiet since the clans had broken off trade. Now their cargo ships, ekti skimmers, and resource mining operations were adapting to the new situation. Overhead, cargo ships brought in new supplies of ekti from Hurricane Depot; others departed with materials en route to fringe Roamer settlements, such as frozen Jonah 12 and ringed Osquivel.
“It sounds like we’ll find plenty of other customers and markets,” Jhy Okiah said.
Cesca continued, letting her thoughts flow. She had always benefited from using the former Speaker as a sounding board. “And what about Theroc? They’re still reeling from the hydrogue attack. If I’d married Reynald right away, I could have been there—” She brightened suddenly, realizing something the clans could accomplish. “You know . . . if Roamers are capable of establishing outposts on molten-hot worlds and frozen moons and airless asteroids, then we certainly have the ability to help clear a burned forest and rebuild dwellings for the Theron people.”
“Then go help them,” the former Speaker said, drifting in a slowly turning somersault. “We’ve got some Roamer ships available, especially now. Their captains are just looking for something to do.” She anchored herself to the surface of a depot rock, making a system note of several thick struts that looked as if they could use reinforcement.
Roamers had to worry about where they would get such basics as air and water and light, whereas the Therons had been blessed with everything right at their fingertips. The original refugee humans had dreamed of this sort of colony when they’d departed from Earth in their generation ships. Those people had found it, but the Roamers never had. Now, however, the Therons didn’t have sufficient skills or ingenuity to pull themselves out of their disaster. They needed expert assistance.
Cesca raised her chin. “You’re right. The clans have all the equipment, engineers, and technology we need. Roamer engineering in a Theron forest! An unlikely match, but we can make it work. We’ll help them pick up the pieces.”
“You can accomplish anything you set your mind to, Speaker Peroni.” The old woman nudged her, sending Cesca tumbling slowly toward the main airlocks and the docking doors. She had to use air jets to right herself.
Jhy Okiah planted her booted feet on the outer surface of the asteroid. “Now let me drift here in peace. I sleep better knowing Rendezvous is not going to fall apart while I’m having a nice dream.”
“You enjoy your rest—it’s well deserved. But in the meantime, I have a lot of work to do.”