Poor World by Sherwood Smith Page B

upset over something.
    Groanboils! Irene considered and discarded excuses for going outside — but there weren’t any. After-hours rec time was spent with your bunkmates. Period. If she got caught going out, they’d all go on report.
    She looked around the neat, plain barracks room. Not that she cared a jot for any of these people. But still, it would be horrible to get them all into trouble for rule breaking. Everyone was afraid of that disgusting slimebrain of an Alsaes. Just from one or two whispered stories, Irene could tell that the bullying splatface just loved thinking up rotten things to do to people who broke the rules. And everyone had to watch.
    She sighed, and pretended to be interested in the card game some of the others had gotten up. She loathed cards, especially the memory games the tutors encouraged them to play in order to train their minds to be more observant.
    Some of the grown women were already horridly observant, but Irene had stumbled on the way to distract them if they looked at her like they were about to ask questions.
    It was just that morning. She’d seen CJ walking by, and had tried to catch her attention. They were supposed to be evaluating patterns in piles of buttons strewn on the floor, and the tutor had looked at her in surprise when he caught Irene gazing out the window. “Irene? Are you distracted?” he’d asked.
    Irene had promptly zombied, copying the blank face and voice she’d observed in others. “I know my duty in the Plan,” she’d said, because she’d heard others say it, and knew it was an acceptable answer. Then she saw why. She watched in total amazement as all the others went blank and the tutor rattled off a list of commands that would be his part in the Plan, as others whispered to themselves.
    Later she’d tested it again, with one of the kids who’d been around a long time. When Irene said, “Do you know your duty in the Plan?” the girl had gone blank in the face then jabbered out a list of orders!
    At first Irene had thought of this discovery as a way to keep them from noticing her slips, but when she thought back about that tutor and what he’d said about his intended actions in some kingdom she’d never heard of, she wondered if this might not be useful for someone.
    But who? The girls couldn’t get out to find help. She couldn’t even get near any of the other Mearsiean girls in order to talk it over and find out what they thought.
    She stifled her fourth yawn, and decided the main goal here was to act like the others, so no one would notice any differences and yank her in to get punished or send her to Dejain for one of her mysterious interviews.
    o0o
    Next morning, Gwen and Sherry got a chance to talk as they wiped down all the tables in their mess hall after breakfast, and then stacked dishes into readiness for lunch.
    No one cared if they talked together, as long as it wasn’t in Mearsiean. No one was supposed to talk in her home language. All had to use the same tongue. No one cared about what they said as long as they worked hard and weren’t seen laughing or having any kind of fun.
    â€œThey think we’re a pair of dummies,” Gwen observed to Sherry on the third day.
    Sherry blinked her large blue eyes, and smiled. “Good.”
    Gwen’s mood changed in an eye blink from injury to relief. “Yeah, who cares?”
    â€œI’m just worried about Seshe,” Sherry said as she finished with one table and waited for Gwen to wipe down the second bench. “Every time I see her she looks sad.”
    â€œAnd every time I see Dhana it looks like her head hurts.”
    â€œNo water in sight. Or even trees.”
    â€œReminds me of Earth,” Gwen said, making a face. “You know, Progress. Cementing over everything, killing everything green.”
    â€œUgh!” It was too loud. Sherry looked around guiltily, but no one had noticed.
    Gwen