Remnant Population

“I guess you had it good, here by yourself?” the quiet one went on. “All the machines working, all the food for yourself, huh?”

“It was very quiet,” Ofelia said. “But yes, the machines made it easier.” “That bitch Kira said you were mucking about with the official log. Writing stories or something? Were you some kind of writer or something before they sent you here?”

Ofelia shook her head. “No, Serin. I did not write anything before. The log — I was reading it, and it seemed boring, just names and dates. I thought no one would ever see.”

“So you spiced it up. Kira says you put in about love affairs and stuff—”

Ofelia realized that he wanted to read it… that he wanted to hear about the sneaking around, the betrayals, the fights… and yet he had no excuse. She grinned, an intentionally complicit grin, the dirty-minded old woman to the dirty-minded younger man. “It was like a storycube,” she said, lowering her voice and glancing around as if to be sure virtuous Kira were not in hearing. “You must understand, Serin, how isolated we were. And the stress—” The man snorted. “Stress! What do civvies know about stress? But sex—” “Well, of course there was sex,” Ofelia said, in the most insinuating voice she could produce. “We were here to breed and enlarge the colony. No birth-limits, bonuses for every child above four. And there are some who stay more — more comely, you understand.” Was she being too obvious for them? No. The loud one had put down his tools and was leaning on the side of the truck, ready to hear more. “I don’t know if I should be telling you this,” Ofelia said with fake piety. “Sera Stavi doesn’t like it that I added to the official log, and perhaps—” The loud one said what Sera Stavi could do with her opinions; it did not differ from the things the men in the colony had said. Not for the first time, Ofelia wondered if humans had thought of anything really new in the past ten thousand years. Had they only wandered the stars because they were tired of their stale jokes and curses?

But she began on a juicy story that wasn’t even in the log, because the creatures had come and she had never finished — the story of the young girl Ampara and her teasing ways that had half the grown men — let alone the few boys her age — upset for half a year.

“And what did she look like?” the loud man asked. The other, quieter one had continued to work on the truck, banging loudly to indicate his annoyance with his lazy co-worker. Ofelia grinned even wider, until her jaw hurt.

“You expect me, an old woman, to know how to tell you that?” But that was only the teasing, part of the ritual of storytelling. She went into explicit detail, more than she knew of her own knowledge, remembering what such men liked to hear about abundant soft hair flowing down long supple backs, about curves and round firmness and soft moistness. He was breathing fast now, and she was running out of ideas.

“Look out!” the quiet man said suddenly, in his professional voice. “They’re coming.” Ofelia stopped short, and turned slowly, Ser Likisi and Kira Stavi, striding along as if in a walking race, and both looking grumpy.

“Sera Falfurrias!” Kira sounded annoyed with her, and Ofelia wondered why. “Yes, Sera,” Ofelia said meekly. She stood with her hands folded in front of her, the servant ready for orders. Inside her head, the new voice mocked her. “What are those things up to, do you know?” “Up to, Sera?” Ofelia asked.

“The indigenes. They’ve disappeared, all but one, and it’s not communicative. Have they gone back where they came from, or what? I saw you going into the forest with one this morning, so don’t tell me you have no idea.”

Her first plan frustrated, Ofelia went after a side issue. “Why would you think I lie to you, Sera?”

“I didn’t say that,” Kira began, impatiently.

“Excuse me, Sera, but you said—”

Kira stamped the ground like a cow beset by flies. “I only meant that if you were going to say you didn’t know, I had already seen you — oh, never mind.” She glared at Ofelia; behind her, Ofelia saw the loud man’s mocking grin.

By then Ofelia had thought what she could say. “They had found the place I hid when the colony was evacuated,” she said. “I had left something behind, and they wanted to know if it was mine, or yours.” “Oh.” Kira did not want to believe it; Ofelia could tell she was in the mood to disbelieve anything Ofelia said, but that was so ordinary. Reluctant belief; her brows relaxed. “Well. We just wondered.” Ofelia thought of embroidering that tale, and decided against it.

“I guess they saw me go out in the forest to take tissue samples… they might have thought I left equipment behind.”

“I believe that’s what they thought, Sera,” Ofelia said,

“Did you want something in particular?” Likisi said. “Or were you just keeping our guardians and advisors company?” He made it sound as if she had been doing bad things with them, and even though she had been retailing filthy gossip, Ofelia resented it.