Zoe’s Tale PART I Chapter Eleven

Things to bash some the life of Zoe, on the Magellan.First, John and Janes master computer program to keep the teenage boys from defeating themselves or separates worked exchangeable a charm, which cockeyedt I grudgingly had to admit to pascal hed d whizz aroundthing smart, which he enjoyed probably to a greater extent than he should welcome. Each of the dodge eventideing g profess teams became their own little group, counter shoot downing with the already-established groups of kids from former colonies. It might shed been a problem if e genuinelyone precisely switched their tribe tot anyyegiance to their teams, because then wed fetch effective substituted one sort of group stupidity for an early(a). But the kids lock up felt altoge on that pointgiance to their home beingness friends as fountainhead, at to the lowest degree one of whom was seeming to be on an opposing dodgeb exclusively team. It kept everyone friendly, or at to the lowest degree kept just ab pr otrude of the more aggressively stupid kids in check- show up procedure until everyone could pull in over the urge to pick fights.Or so it was explained to me by Dad, who continued to be pleased with himself. So you screw see how we lift a subtle web of interpersonal connection, he state to me, as we watched one of the dodgeball games.Oh, Lord, Savitri, who was sitting with us, said. The self-satis accompanimention here is vent to hire me gag.Youre just jealous that you didnt conceptualise it up, Dad said to Savitri.I did view it up, Savitri said. breach of it, any carriage. I and Jane helped with this plan, as Im sure you recall. Youre just fetching all the c flushedit.These argon despicable lies, Dad said.Ball, Savitri said, and we all ducked as a pop offaway ball ricocheted into the crowd.Whoever popular opinion it up, the dodgeball scheme had side earns. After the second day of the tournament, the teams started having their own theme songs, as team members riffled t hrough their medical specialty collections to commence tunes that would pulsate them riled up. And this was where we discovered a real cultural gap practice of medicine that was popular on one world was completely unheard of on a nonher. The kids from Khartoum were listening to chango-soca, the ones from Rus were deep into groundthump and so on. Yes, they all had good beats, and you could leaping to them, solely if you call for to blend someone wild-eyed and frothy, all you crap to do is suggest that your favorite music was better than theirs. People were drubbing out their organizers and queuing up their songs to make their points.And thus began the Great Magellan Music war All of us ne cardinalrked our organisers to arrive ather and furiously started making playlists of our favorite music to show how our music was indisputably the best music ever. In a very short quantify I was exposed to not just chango-soca and groundthump only when also kill-drill, drone, haploid, happy dance (ironically named, as it turned out), smear, nuevopop, tone, classic tone, Erie stomp, doowa capella, shaker and some really whacked-out stuff alleged to be waltz entirely critically scatty three-quarter time or indeed any recognizable time signature at all as far as I could posit. I listened to it all with a fair mind, then told all their proponents I pitied them because they had never been exposed to Huckleberry Sound, and sent out a playlist of my own.So you make your music by strangling cats, Magdy said, as he listened to Delhi Morning, one of my favorite songs, with me, Gretchen and Enzo.Thats sitar, you monkey, I said.Sitar being the Huckleberry word for strangled cats, Magdy said.I turned to Enzo. Help me out here, I said.Im red to shed to go with the cat strangling theory, Enzo said.I smacked him on the arm. I thought you were my friend.I was, Enzo said. But now I know how you treat your pets.Listen Magdy said. The sitar touch off had just risen out of th e mix and was suspended, heartbreakingly, over the bridge of the song. Annnd justifiedly in that location is when the cat died. Admit it, Zoe.Gretchen? I looked over to my last, best friend, who would eer defend me against Philistines.Gretchen looked over to me. That poor cat, she said, and then laughed. thusly Magdy grabbed the arranger and pulled up some horrible shaker noise.For the record, Delhi Morning does not sound desire strangled cats. It really doesnt. They were all tone-deaf or something. Particularly Magdy.tone-deaf or not, however, the four of us were ending up spending a mickle of time together. While Enzo and I were doing our slow, amused sizing up of each other(a), Gretchen and Magdy alternated between being interested in each other and trying to see just how low they could cut each other down verbally. Although you know how these things go. One probably led to the other and vice-versa. And Im dead reckoning hormones counted for a lot both of them were good- looking examples of blossoming adolescence, which I entail is the best way to put it. They both seemed get outing to put up with a lot from each other in exchange for gawking and some light groping, which to be fair to Magdy was not entirely one-sided on his part, if Gretchens reports were to be believed.As for Enzo and me, well, this is how we were getting alongI made you something, I said, handing him my PDA.You made me a PDA, he said. I always wanted one.Goof, I said. Of course he had a PDA we all did. We would hardly be teens without them. No, click on the movie file.He did, and watched for a few moments. Then he cocked his head at me. So, is the whole thing shots of me getting frivol away in the head with a dodgeball? he asked.Of course not, I said. nearly of them are of you getting hit in other places. I took the PDA and ran my finger along the fast-forward strip on the video player. See, look, I said, demonstrate him the groin shot he took earlier in the day.Oh, great, he said.Youre cherished when you collapse in aching misery, I said.Im beaming you think so, he said, clearly not as enthused as I was.Lets watch it again, I said. This time in slow motion.Lets not, Enzo said. Its a painful memory. I had plans for those things one day.I felt a blush coming on, and fought it back with sarcasm. myopic Enzo, I said. Poor squeaky-voiced Enzo.Your agreement is overwhelming, he said. I think you want watching me get abused. You could offer up some advice instead.Move faster, I said. Try not to get hit so much.Youre helpful, he said.There, I said, pressing the target button on the PDA. Its in your queue now. So you can treasure it always.I hardly know what to state, he said.Did you get me anything? I asked.As a count of fact, Enzo said, and then pulled out his PDA, punched up something, and handed the PDA to me. On it was another poesy. I read it.This is very novel, I said. It was actually beautiful, but I didnt want to get schmalzy on him, not by and by just sharing video of him taking a hit to his nether regions.Yes, well, Enzo said, taking back the PDA. I wrote it sooner I saw that video. Just remember that. He pressed his PDA screen. There. In your queue now. So you can treasure it always.I will, I said, and would.Good, Enzo said. Because I get a lot of abuse for those, you know.For the poems? I said. Enzo nodded. From whom?From Magdy, of course, Enzo said. He caught me writing that one to you and mocked the hell out of me for it.Magdys idea of a poem is a dirty limerick, I said.Hes not stupid, Enzo said.I didnt say he was stupid, I said. Just vulgar.Well, hes my best friend, Enzo said. What are you gonna do.I think its sweet you stick up for him, I said. But I choose to tell you that if he mocks you out of writing poems for me, Im vent to stand to kick his ass.Enzo grinned. You or your bodyguards? he asked.Oh, Id handle this one personally, I said. Although I might get Gretchen to help.I think she would, Enzo said .Theres no think involved here, I said.I guess I better keep writing you poems, then, Enzo said.Good, I said, and patted his cheek. Im glad we have these little conversations.And Enzo was as good as his word a couple of times a day Id get a spick-and-span poem. They were mostly sweet and funny, and only a little bit demonstrate off, because he would send them in different poem formats haiku and sonnets and sestinas and some forms I dont know what theyre called but you could see that they were supposed to be something.And naturally I would show them all to Gretchen, who tried very hard not to be impressed. The scans off on that one, she said, after she had read one I showed to her at one of the dodgeball games. Savitri had joined the two of us to watch. She was on her break. Id dump him for that.Its not off, I said. And anyway hes not my boyfriend. A guy sends poems on the mo and you say hes not your boyfriend? Gretchen asked.If he was her boyfriend, he wouldnt be move poems anym ore, Savitri said.Gretchen smacked her forehead. Of course, she said. It all makes sense now.Give me that, I said, taking back my PDA. much(prenominal) cynicism.Youre just saying that because youre getting sestinas, Savitri said.Which dont scan, Gretchen said.Quiet, both of you, I said, and turned the PDA around so it could record the game. Enzos team was playing the Dragons in the quarter-final fellow for the league champion beam. All your bitterness is distracting me from watching Enzo get slaughtered out in that respect. oration of cynicism, Gretchen said.There was a loud pock as the dodgeball smooshed Enzos face into a not terribly appealing shape. He grabbed his face with both hands, cuss loudly, and dropped to his knees.There we go, I said.That poor boy, Savitri said.Hell live, Gretchen said, and then turned to me. So you got that.Its sledding into the highlight reel for sure, I said.Ive mentioned earlier that you dont deserve him, Gretchen said.Hey, I said. He writes me poems, I document his physical ineptitude. Thats how the relationship works.I thought you said he wasnt your boyfriend, Savitri said.Hes not my boyfriend, I said, and saved the humiliating snippet into my Enzo file. It doesnt mean we dont have a relationship. I put my PDA away and greeted Enzo as he came up, still holding his face.So you got that, he said to me. I turned and smiled at Gretchen and Savitri, as if to say, See. They both rolled their eyes.In all, on that point was about a week between when the Magellan left Phoenix site and when the Magellan was far enough away from any major gravity well that it could skip to Roanoke. Much of that time was spent watching dodgeball, listening to music, chatting with my spic-and-span friends, and recording Enzo getting hit with balls. But in between all of that, I actually did spend a little bit of time learning about the world on which we would live the rest of our lives. many of it I already knew Roanoke was a Class Six planet, w hich meant (and here Im double-checking with the compound Union Department of Colonization Protocol Document, get it wherever PDAs have access to a network) that the planet was within fifteen percent of earth standard gravity, atmosphere, temperature and rotation, but that the biosphere was not compatible with human biology which is to say if you ate something there, itd probably make you vomit your guts out if it didnt kill you outright.(This made me mildly curious about how many classes of planet there were. Turns out there are eighteen, twelve of which are at least nominally humanly compatible. That said, if someone says youre on a colony ship headed to a Class Twelve planet, the best thing to do is to find an escape pod or volunteer to join the ships crew, because youre not going to want to land on that world if you can avoid it. Unless you corresponding weighing up to two and a half times your ruler weight on a planet whose ammonia-choked atmosphere will hopefully smother y ou before you die of exposure. In which case, you know. Welcome home.)What do you do on a Class Six planet, when youre a member of a seed colony? Well, Jane had it right when she said it on Huckleberry You work. You only have so much food supply to go through before you have to add to it from what youve grown but before you grow your food, you have to make over the soil so it can grow crops that can feed humanity (and other species which started on footing, like almost all our livestock) without choking to death on the incompatible nutrients in the ground. And you have to make sure that earlier-mentioned livestock (or pets, or toddlers, or inattentive adults who didnt pay help during their training periods) dont graze or eat anything from the planet until you do a toxicology scan so see if it will kill them. The colonist satisfyings we were apt(p) suggest this is more difficult than it sounds, because its not like your livestock will listen to former, and neither will a toddl er or some adults.So youve conditioned the soil and kept all your animals and dumb humans from gorging on the poisonous scenery Now its time to plant, plant, plant your crops like your life depended on it, because it does. To bring this point home, the colonist training material is filled with pictures of gaunt colonists who messed up their plantings and ended up a lot thinner (or worse) after their planets winter. The Colonial Union wont bail you out if you fail, you fail, sometimes at the cost of your own life.Youve planted and tilled and harvested, and then you do it again, and you keep doing it and all the while youre also building infrastructure, because one of the major roles of a seed colony is to prepare the planet for the next, larger jounce of colonists, who show up a couple of standard years later. I assume they land, look around at everything youve created, and say, Well, colonizing doesnt look that hard. At which point you get to punch them.And through this all, and in the back of your mind, is this little fact Colonies are at their most vulnerable to attack when theyre new. Theres a reason humans colonize Class Six planets, where the biosystem might kill them, and even Class Twelve planets, where just about everything else will kill them too. Its because there are a lot of other intelligent races out there who have the same habitation needs as we have, and we all want as many planets as we can grab. And if someone else is already there, well. Thats just something to work around.I knew this very well. And so did John and Jane.But it was something I wonder if other people either my age or aged really understood understood that Class Six planet or not, conditioned soil or not, planted crops or not, everything theyve done and worked for doesnt matter much when a spacecraft shows up in your sky, and its filled with creatures whove pertinacious they want your planet, and youre in the way. Maybe its not something you can understand until it happen s.Or maybe when it comes down to it people just dont think about it because theres cryptograph to do about it. Were not soldiers, were colonists. Being a colonist office accepting the risk. And once youve accepted the risk, you might as well not think about it until you have to.And during our week on the Magellan, we certainly didnt have to. We were having fun almost too much fun, to be honest about it. I suspected we were getting an unrepresentative view of colony life. I mentioned this to Dad, while we watched the final game of the dodgeball tournament, in which the Dragons were raining rubbery red doom on the previously undefeated Slime Molds, the team Magdy was on. I was perfectly fine with this Magdy had gotten insufferable about his teams winning streak. Humility would be a good thing for the boy.Of course this is unrepresentative, Dad said. Do you think youre going to have time to be playing dodgeball when we get to Roanoke?I dont just mean dodgeball, I said.I know, he sai d. But I dont want you to worry about it. Let me tell you a story.Oh, goody, I said. A story.So sarcastic, Dad said. When I first left Earth and joined the Civil Defense Forces, we had a week like this. We were presumption our new bodies those green ones, like General Rybicki still has and we were given the pronounce to have fun with them for an entire week.Sounds like a good way to encourage trouble, I said.Maybe it is, Dad said. But mostly it did two things. The first was to get us comfortable with what our new bodies could do. The second was to give us some time to enjoy ourselves and make friends before we had to go to war. To give us a little calm before the storm.So youre giving us this week to have fun before you send us all to the salt mines, I said.Not to the salt mines, but certainly to the fields, Dad said, and motioned out to the kids still hustling about on the dodge-ball court. I dont think its entirely sunk into the heads of a lot of your new friends that when we land, theyre going to be put to work. This is a seed colony. All hands needed.I guess its a good thing I got a befitting education before I left Huckleberry, I said.Oh, youll still go to school, Dad said. Trust me on that, Zoe. Youll just work, too. And so will all your friends.Monstrously unfair, I said. Work and school.Dont expect a lot of sympathy from us, Dad said. While youre sitting down and reading, were going to be out there sweating and toiling.Whos this we? I said. Youre the colony leader. Youll be administrating.I farmed when I was ombudsman back in New Goa, Dad said.I snorted. You mean you stipendiary for the seed grain and let Chaudhry Shujaat work the field for a cut.Youre missing the point, Dad said. My point is that once we get to Roanoke well all be busy. Whats going to get us through it all are our friends. I know it worked that way for me in the CDF. Youve made new friends this last week, right?Yes, I said.Would you want to start your life on Roanoke without the m? Dad asked.I thought of Gretchen and Enzo and even Magdy. Definitely not, I said.Then this week did what it was supposed to do, Dad said. Were on our way from being colonists from different worlds to being a individual(a) colony, and from being strangers to being friends. Were all going to need each other now. Were in a better position to work together. And thats the practical benefit to having a week of fun.Wow, I said. I can see how you weaved a subtle web of interpersonal connection here.Well, you know, Dad said, with that look in his eye that said that yes, he did catch that snarky reference. Thats why I run things.Is that it? I asked.Its what I tell myself, anyway, he said.The Dragons made the last out against the Slime Molds and started celebrating. The crowd of colonists watching were cheering as well, and getting themselves into the inclination for the really big event of the night the skip to Roanoke, which would happen in just under a half hour.Dad stood up. This is my cue, he said. Ive got to get ready to do the award presentation to the Dragons. A shame. I was puff for the Slime Molds. I love that name.Try to make it through the disappointment, I said.Ill try, he said. You going to stay around for the skip?Are you kidding? I said. Everyones going to stay around for the skip. I wouldnt miss it for anything.Good, Dad said. ceaselessly a good idea to confront change with your eyes open.You think its really going to be that different? I asked.Dad kissed the surmount of my head and gave me a hug. Sweetie, I know its going to be that different. What I dont know is how much more different its going to be after that.I guess well find out, I said.Yes, and in about twenty-five minutes, Dad said, and then pointed. Look, theres your mom and Savitri. Lets ring in the new world together, shall we?