“Oh, they’d go. Wouldn’t you, Jeffer?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going anyway,” Rather said.
He didn’t look like he’d change his mind. Rather didn’t even bother to argue, though the boy was good at that. Clave knew how he would enlist a fourteen-year-old boy. Put him in the silver suit, call him the Silver Man, offer him status and adventure… “Carlot?”
“I’m going home,” the girl said defiantly.
“Debby?” But aglance told Clave he’d lost that battle.
Debby was fiercely happy. He hadn’t seen her like this since the War of London Tree. “What about Anthon?”
Debby said, “I never told him. Jeffer, I did get him talking. He likes Citizens Tree just fine and he doesn’t want any changes. Have you noticed how fat he’s getting?”
“Too bad,” Jeffer said.
Clave said, “Stet. I accept that you’re going to do this. I’ve heard your speeches, and you’ve heard mine, and the treemouth can have them both. But don’t you see that this will tear Citizens Tree apart? It’s mutiny. Hold it! I mean it’s mutiny the way you’ve planned it. If we don’t fix that. Citizens Tree will never recover. It’s got to look better than it does.”
The mutineers looked at each other.
“Here’s how it’s got to be,” said Clave. “First, I’m going. Gavving isn’t. You said it and you’re right. The tree needs a Chairman and it’s Gavving.”
Gavving said, “That’s silly. You’re—”
“I’m the treefeeding Chairman, and if I go the expedition is official. Besides that, I’ve got to see to it that you return the CARM and the silver suit. The citizens would be crazy to settle for less. I hereby appoint you my Chairman Pro Tem until I return.”
Coolly Gavving asked, “Anything else?”
“Yes. You don’t get both Booce and Ryllin. One of them stays. There has to be some reason for the Serjents to bring us home.”
“We can’t do that,” Ryllin said. “Booce takes care of Logbearer. I take care of business. I do all the buying and selling. Anyone who sees one of us in the Clump will expect to see us both.”
Clave was massaging the lump on his thigh. Sometimes that helped him think. Think! “The citizens you deal with, the…merchants? If they deal with Booce, what will happen?”
Ryllin said, “My husband is very good with machinery, not so good at trading. He did much better after he had the good sense to marry me. But Logbearer understands him, he—”
“Without you they’ll get a better trade?”
“Damn right they will,” Booce said bitterly. Then: “Yes, they will.”
“They’ll like that? They won’t be too curious about where their luck comes from?”
It was Ryllin who nodded. “It’s all right, love. Think of a story. They’ll want to believe it.”
“But we’re missing three daughters too!”
“The house. They must have finished building our house by now. The girls and I are with Logbearer or we’re at the house, wherever you’re not. Maybe I’m somewhere in the Market buying furniture. That was the whole point of this last trip, we were going to — we were—” She turned away suddenly.
Emotional displays weren’t needed here! Clave said, “We’re not hiding anything but the silver suit and the CARM. Otherwise we can tell any story we want. What’s next? Gawing, Lawri, Ryllin, you back each other up when you go back to the tuft. Whoever’s asking, the Chairman had to be talked into this, but I did agree, and I put the fine details in.”
Rather called from aft. “Jeffer, the pipe’s moored to the hull. We’ve got everything else, but it all has to be moored.”
“Go ahead. I’ll check you later. Gawing, are you willing?”
“Treefodder. Well, it’ll probably keep Minyafrom killing me…Clave, will this work? Is it enough?”
“Only if we come back. We come back with the CARM and something else too. It almost doesn’t matter what.”
“Stet. I’m the Chairman Pro Tem.”
Jeffer killed the main motor. “Somebody go out and get our lines untied.”
Rather went. Debby joined Booce aft. They began mooring what remained of the cargo: two big hooks, spare clothing, sacks of undyed cloth, harpoons, crossbows.
Lawri said, “Jeffer, let me show you something.” She eased up next to him and tapped at the controls, whispering. Her shoulder blocked Clave’s view. Clave’s mind still raced, seeking flaws…he was looking for holes in a harebrain net! There was no way to make mutiny smell sweet.
“Are we bringing the spitgun? No, of course not.” The weapon Mark had been carrying when he was captured was now in custody of the Chairman. “Gavving, it’s in the older part of my hut, what used to be the common room. If you don’t have the spitgun, you’re not the Chairman. Get it before anyone notices.”
Rather scrambled back through the airlock. Gavving, Ryllin, and Lawri left. Jeffer let them get well clear before he pulled away on the little jets.
The tree receded. Three tiny citizens fluttered toward the elevator dock, A cage had nearly reached the dock. One of the occupants was shrieking and waving its fists.
“Somebody must have found Mark,” Debby said.
“Relax, Clave, we only tied him up.”
“Yeah. But if I’d known a rescue party was coming …skip it. You’d have closed the airlock in their faces. I hope you treefeeders can find something worthwhile in the Clump. It’s my reputation on the line now.”
Section Two
THE LOGGERS
Chapter Seven
The Honey Hornets
from the Citizens Tree cassettes:
YEAR 384, DAY 1590. JEFFER, SCIENTIST. WE HAVE DEPARTED CITIZENS TREE TO EXPLORE THE FOURTH LAGRANGE POINT, WITH ATTENTION TO RESOURCES AND POPULATION. THE MISSION AS OUTLINED IS REVISED AS FOLLOWS: CHAIRMAN CLAVE NOW LEADS. THIS EXPEDITION HAS BECOME AN APPROVED ACTIVITY OF CITIZENS TREE. I NOW TURN THE LOG OVER TO CHAIRMAN CLAVE.
CLAVE, CHAIRMAN. CREW CONSISTS OF JEFFER AS SCIENTIST AND CAPTAIN, CITIZENS DEBBY AND RATHER, BOOCE AND CARLOT SERJENT AS GUIDES, AND MYSELF. PRIORITY AT ALL TIMES WILL GO TO PROTECTING THE CARM AND OTHER VITAL PROPERTY OF CITIZENS TREE. NO KNOWLEDGE IS WORTH GAINING UNLESS IT CAN BE REPORTED TO CITIZENS TREE.
CARLOT WAS WATCHING OVER THEIR SHOULDERS.
“You use—”
“Prikazyvat End log,” said Jeffer.
“ — the same dates we do?”
“Why not?”
“Well, how do you know?” Carlot demanded. “Years, you just watch for the sun to go behind Voy, but what about days? We sleep a couple of days out of five, right? But maybe you lose count—”
“Who cares?” Clave said. “Who knows how many days there are in a year? It depends on where you are.”
Jeffer summoned up numbers on the panel. “The CARM logs a standard day, about four and a half per sleep. We used to keep marks on sticks in the Scientist’s hut. How do you keep time?”
Carlot said, “The Admiralty posts the time.”
Booce laughed. “They must get it the same way! The Library looks a lot like this panel, Jeffer. Like somebody ripped out this part of the CARM.”
“Keys like this too?”
“I wasn’t close enough to see. They don’t let ordinary crew near it. Let’s see…in the crossyear ceremony Radyo Mattson did the talking, but there was a Navy officer standing in front of the Library, and his hands moved…”
And Kendy watched them all.
The CARM autopilot heard everything. Every ten hours and a little, it squirted its records at Discipline. Kendy sorted the conversations for what he could use.