Fate of Frailty Chapter 6
By Karen Hart
Gaignun stepped through the open airlock of the transport, looking this way and that at the utilitarian station that was the Kukai Foundation. He'd never actually seen it in person, having only seen lasergraph images and heard descriptions from Helmer. It was a dull place of dull gray and brown metals, and too-bright lights, a place that reeked of machine oils and where a cacophony of sound echoed off of the walls.
Roughly a month ago the place that been almost dead, a foundering military supply depot that was scarcely managing to stay afloat. Now, though, it was a rest and repair area for personal and commercial vessels. Ships lined the dock in either direction, some incoming or departing. Men and women decked in the universal orange of mechanics milled about, working or looking for work to do, while civilians swarmed through the area looking for a place to eat and rest, even if what they got wasn't much better than what they'd have had had they stayed aboard. It was the fact that it'd be different that counted.
The Kukai Foundation had gone from near dead to thriving. All in all, it was basically what Gaignun had been hoping for and expecting.
Gaignun made his way down the narrow rampway's soft incline, green eyes casting about for the reason that he'd come here in the first place. It made itself obvious a moment later: a middle-aged man with graying hair and worn clothing was waving him over. Gaignun complied.
"You're Gaignun Kukai, huh?" the man, who introduced himself as Warren McCall, asked, a way of confirmation. Gaignun nodded affably. "Not quite what I was expecting, I'm glad to say." McCall grinned lopsidedly.
"Oh?" One of Gaignun's eyebrows raised in curiosity.
"Well, yeah. I hate to say this, but your dad's a grouch. I was afraid it'd be hereditary."
For a moment Gaignun found himself at a loss at McCall's forwardness, and then found himself laughing soundlessly. "I'm happy to say I didn't get much from him," he replied once he gained control of himself again. "So, you wanted to speak with me in person about something?"
McCall nodded. "Yeah. Technically it'd be possible to just tell someone over a comm line, but that'd produce…'iffy' results. Better for someone to see this in person."
Again, Gaignun's eyebrow raised, but he kept silent, letting his facial expression ask the question.
"Come on, I'll show you."
---
A few hundred lightyears away, Rubedo leaned against the back door, eyes focused on his ever-present book of the day, though he saw none of the print. Instead, what he saw was bright lights and dull metals, the result of the mental link between himself and Gaignun. It was odd, riding mental piggyback like this, but he'd been curious (what was the Foundation really like?), worried (neither he nor Gaignun had ever been this far from each other), and he'd had Gaignun's permission.
So far, things seemed to be going fairly well. He watched his brother's reaction to McCall's comment with no small bit of amusement, and relaxed further. Gaignun was all right.
A minute later he gave Gaignun the psychic equivalent of a squeeze on the shoulder and let the link fade to little more than a mental pressure—it was the knowledge itself that the link was active, and that Rubedo or Gaignun could widen it fully at a moment's notice. The link was far too exhausting to maintain indefinitely.
He stared at the words in his book, this time seeing them, but still not really registering them. Thirty seconds later he exhaled and stood up, and headed back into the house. You be careful, Gaignun, he said across the gulf of their minds.
Of course, came the reply.
---
Mary stared quizzically at the screen, blue eyes taking in the number of pages that Shelley had been searching through and the deluge of text on the page her sister was reading at that moment.
"Any luck?" the blonde girl asked.
Absently Shelley played with her braid. "Not really," she answered, haltingly.
A week ago she'd learned about personal searches in her UMN Technology class (a presumptuous name for what was essentially a computer course, but it gave the young students a sense of pride). It'd been mainly focused on finding classmates that'd moved out of the area, but if it could find those people, then maybe…
She'd headed home feeling a strange mixture of hope and betrayal, though the former more than the latter. For two years, she and her sister had lived with Rubedo, Gaignun, and Helmer, and while they were grateful to be with such kind people, the two young sisters couldn't help but feel homesick, even if it was for a home they could barely remember. As the saying still went, blood was thicker than water.
With a huff Shelley slouched in her seat and regarded the data that'd appeared on her screen. For a week she'd been trying to find something or other on her mother, though it had not been an easy search. For one thing, she and Mary had known their parents as "Mom" and "Dad", and had never consciously registered their names, though she was relatively sure that their mother's name was something that started with "Mar". Other than that, and the last name Godwin, she had little to go on. Even so, she'd kept at the search in private—though with her sister's knowledge—trying repeatedly with little luck each time and almost always with similar results.
She squeezed her eyes shut to relieve the strain they were starting to feel. "Maybe one more try…"
---
"I can see what that'd be a problem."
McCall had led Gaignun along the docks, presumably to clarify his requests. It was a slow trek as the two of them slalomed around the ever-increasing pedestrians, McCall occasionally pointing out something he felt was of interest to Gaignun. What Gaignun took clearest note of was a lack of help.
The Kukai Foundation had begun to thrive, yes, but the rate at which people had flocked to it for services was starting to exceed the rate at which people applied for jobs. Droids might have been an answer, but they were a bit costly and could only be programmed to do so much. The Foundation that'd been so recently saved was already seeing trouble; for a moment, Gaignun felt like he was in over his head.
Regardless of how he felt about it, however, he'd still agreed to be a part of this, he reminded himself. All right, mind. Get to work.