Fate of Frailty Chapter 4

By Karen Hart

Crash!

The sound was preceded by a startled yelp, and followed by a pained moan. Rubedo sighed, and got up, putting the book he'd been reading—one of Louis L'Amour's—not a bad author, he'd have to find some of his others—down on the table. God I hope she didn't hurt anything, he grumbled mentally, and headed for the back door.

Sure enough, Mary was in sitting in front of the big tree in the backyard, hissing against the pain of scrapes and bruises she'd no doubt obtained by falling. "Here, let me take a look," he said comfortingly, and knelt down beside her. There were bloody patches of abraded flesh on her knees and palms, mixed with dirt, but nothing that looked truly serious. And she wasn't crying, he noticed. If she had broken something, he was quite certain that she'd be all but wailing at the top of her lungs. He smiled. "Come on, let's get that cleaned up." She nodded her assent, and let him help her the short distance back to the house, wincing with every step.

Rubedo grinned as he tended to the small blonde's wounds. "So, how far up did you get?"

"Not very," Mary grumbled, looking down in embarrassment. Bad enough she had to fall, worse still for him to know she hadn't made much progress in the climb.

"Eh, you'll get pretty high eventually," he assured her.

In the two years that he'd known her, Mary had started to come out of her shell, becoming more and more willing to try new things. It was rather nice to watch what'd been a shy, scrawny, uncertain little girl growing a sense of confidence. He placed the final bandage on her right knee. "There." She hopped down off of the edge of the sink.

"Thanks," she said. Rubedo just grinned at her.

"So which branch did you slip on anyway?" he asked, teasingly.

"Come on, I'll show you," she huffed, and led him back outside.

Mary pointed to the branch in question—it was the first one available once someone got their footing on the trunk secure, just a few feet over the ground. Or at least, it had been. Now it hung half-broken, suspended largely by splinters. Rubedo's left eyebrow lifted. "At least it was close to the ground. Why'd you go for such a flimsy one anyway?"

"Because it was there," she replied, her peculiar accent emphasizing her annoyance.

For some reason, Rubedo couldn't help but find her irritation amusing, and began laughing.

Mary opened her mouth to yell at him, but finally settled on a glare.

--

"It's really that low?" Gaignun asked, as he skimmed through a flimsy.

"Unfortunately," Helmer replied, frowning. "Since the Foundation's creation, it's been somewhat reliant on the government for funding—but considering that it's peacetime, the government's become far too tightfisted to let go of a single credit. If this continues, the Kukai Foundation might have to disbanded." The frown deepened.

The two of them were in Helmer's new, wastefully spacious office, Gaignun sitting in the comfortable lounge area, Helmer facing the window and staring at the panoramic view of Second Miltia City. It hadn't been long since the former General's appointment as the new Representative, though from the look of things, he was settling into the position fairly well.

Gaignun tossed the flimsy on the table, and leaned back, exhaling. "Perhaps we're going about this the wrong way," the dark-haired sixteen-year-old said, thoughtfully.

"Oh?" Helmer looked back at him.

"We're trying to figure out how to support the Foundation. Perhaps it should support itself," Gaignun said, thoughtfully.

The Second Miltian Representative mulled that over. "You're thinking of it becoming more of a business than a government-run organization?"

"Something like that," Gaignun replied.

"You know, Ni—Gaignun—that could actually work."

Gaignun smirked at the slip. "My name's been changed for over two years. You'd think you'd be used to it by now."

"Sorry." Helmer smiled apologetically. "To me, 'Gaignun' is the cat that Yuriev tolerated. I doubt I'm ever going to get fully accustomed to calling you that."

Gaignun shrugged. "I suppose it's all right." He looked at the timepiece on the wall. "I'd probably better get back home."

"You sound reluctant. Sensing trouble?"

The teenager shook his head. "Not really. But given Rubedo, I can't really help but expect it."

---

A few minutes later found Gaignun stepping out of the lobby into the afternoon sunlight, deep in thought. He knew Helmer had no desire to dissolve the Foundation, that its existence was the best possible way to keep the U-TIC Organization moderately tame. No, there had to be some way to keep the Foundation running. He ran through the idea that'd been forming in his head for the past fifteen minutes or so.

From what he knew, the Foundation itself was a fairly large free-orbital station, and had been, in the days before it'd been taken over to combat U-TIC, hardly more than a supply and storage dock. In fact, there was apparently a wealth of unused space, something he'd gleaned from his conversations with Helmer. Yet given the lack of funding, there wasn't much to be done with the aforementioned space.

So why not make part of it into a business venture? It'd provide a fair amount of jobs, and the unused space could be used for residential purposes. And of course the employees would want amenities, which would lead to more jobs for people to supply those amenities—and where there were jobs, there was profit, which meant funding. It was by no means an instant solution, but—he was certain—it would be a lasting one. He'd talk it over with Rubedo for a while, see what his brother had to say about the whole situation, then get back to Helmer, once the Representative came home.

But all in all, he was quite certain that it would work.