“Ah, yes,” Karina said, regarding him with one of those flashes of sudden shrewdness that lurked like sharks beneath the fathomless sea of mysticism with which she drenched most of her utterances. “I heard how well-protected the children were when they were employed on Kezdet as child slaves, miners, prostitutes, human fodder for the mills of industry without decent food or accommodation. The Federation forces protected them so well then I really doubt the little darlings will be able to bring themselves to part with such security.”
“She has a point,” said Khetala, a tall and sturdily built young woman with dark brown skin and a serious expression. She had entered from the gangway when the food had been delivered, accompanied by Dr. Ngaen Xong Hoa, the meteorologist. Dr. Hoa’s shyly tentative smile and the blazing intelligence in his dark eyes had kept him from being completely invisible as he and the girl silently listened to the exchanges between the Harakamians, Calum Baird, and Rank.
They were not the only spectators to this conversation, even though Khetala was the first to add her own contribution to it. As was often the case on Maganos Moonbase, a good-sized audience of avid listeners stood around the divan and the chair, taking in every remark and gesticulation. Which was fine with Rafik and which seemed to give the theatrical Hafiz and Karina an audience to play to.
Even if the children had not been included in Hafiz’s plan, they would have been welcome to listen. They were at Maganos Moonbase to learn not only useful trades but also all of the other survival skills necessary to living independently and well, skills which could not be acquired in an atmosphere of adult secrecy or adult superiority. The kids needed to understand strategy and self-government, and they learned best by example. They discovered how to be effective adults by watching the adults in their lives make decisions, from the beginning of the process to the end.
Khetala, or Kheti, even more than many others, was already respected as a teacher, an organizer, and a leader. As one of the older, stronger children in the mines, Kheti had taken beatings for many of the younger ones and shielded them, lifted loads too heavy for them, and held them together when things seemed hopeless. Toward the end, she had been hauled off to the pleasure houses, and although Acorna had rescued her from that particular pit of despair, Kheti had taken a special interest in helping girls and women who were formerly used in those places regain their self-respect and sense of purpose. Among those who cared about Kezdet she was as much a legend in her own right as Acorna. All of the adults present knew her story.
Hafiz opened his hands, palm up. “I rest my case,” he said.
Dr. Ngaen Xong Hoa cleared his throat politely. “I was Just discussing with Khetala, Hafiz, which of the children have demonstrated an interest in meteorology. If I am to help you tnaintain a pleasant atmosphere within the compound at your outpost, energetic assistance from alert young minds -would be most beneficial.” Dr. Hoa’s particular specialty -was planetary weather control.
“And we Starfarers will go into action helping set up the communications relays you’ll be needing,” said Johnny Greene, the computer communications expert of the Haven, the Starfarers’ ship.
“Good, then I think -we are all agreed,” Hafiz said -with a universal beam of bonhomie at all who were gathered around him. He rubbed his palms back and forth, “We leave a skeleton staff to keep the moonbase running, and go to seek adventure. It is time to begin gathering what we shall need and, of course, a few small, essential luxuries.”
“Oh, goody,” said Mercy Kendoro from the edge of the gathering. “Shopping.”
In far less time than anyone who had not witnessed the power of House Harakamian in action would have supposed, the initial supplies, provisions, and personnel were acquired, transport was organized, and a flotilla of space vessels, headed by the SharazaS, left several respective planets and moons, rendezvoused at a point just outside Kezdet’s orbit, and began a long caravan through unmapped space toward the site Hafiz had chosen for his new “trading post.”