A Father's Choice Read online

  And he’d done it two weeks before the holidays, when she needed to be one hundred percent focused on work. She’d earned the right to do skilled work, especially to do hand work, and her stupid reptile of a sire had almost cost her that hard-won paid apprenticeship. Hell, if Kelsie kept digging and being a nuisance, Marleena might lose her work-stipend from the Foundation anyway, and she’d have to find a new apartment, and go back to absolute basic unskilled labor. It wasn’t fair. Marleena buried her nose between her knees and glared at the patches in her skirt’s fabric.

  Why was Kelsie learning a hobby trade, anyway? She had a career already, as everyone in the workshop knew because Kelsie reminded them at least once a week. Her parents were among the founders of the current economic team, and had uncovered a huge number of people trying to revert to the corrupt system from before the New Founding. Kelsie would follow in her parents’ steps, and already had a vocation as well as a choice of six family partners waiting when she finished her avocational training. Marleena did not.

  That stuck in her throat too. The match counselors all said the same thing. “I’m sorry, but no one wants to begin the match process with a crèche child. The presumed psychological incompatibilities are too great for most men to be willing to work around.” If she’d been a true orphan it would have been different, but to be abandoned by both parents and for those parents never to have even looked for a godparent or two? She was damaged goods from the first line of her personal history file to the last. That she wasn’t pretty in the current fashion made it harder.

  Marleena grumped and pouted for half an hour, glaring at the darkness and letting everything come out of the depths. Then she sighed, wiped her face with her sleeve and stretched. “OK, tantrum over,” she told the empty space. “Time to do something useful or at least to turn the lights on.” Barb and Oops would be back soon.

  Not two minutes later Marleena heard the door alert chime. Since she was decent and alone, she ignored it and continued skimming the day’s news feeds to see if anything important had happened. Not really, as best she could tell. Half the stories were about developments on the colony worlds, and the other half seemed to be personal tales from the New Founding. Oh, yeah, that’s right, she thought, hitting her forehead with her palm. The school examinations coincided with New Founding Day this year, so there was a lot of stuff in the news and story feeds about it. Marleena shrugged and managed to find a sports feed she’d marked, a program about fishing.

  “Mind if I shed a little light on the subject?” Oscar, better known as Oops, called.

  “No problem.” Marleena scooted to the end of the couch closest to the feed projection. She turned up the brightness a little and grinned as the dude in the boat discovered that he’d caught more fish than he’d planned. The big silverfin launched halfway out of the water, then dropped back, almost pulling the guy with the rod, and the boat, into the water. Should she cheer for the man or the fish? It was a hard call. In the end, one of the crew cut the line and the silverfin disappeared, probably to go nurse his sore lip and complain to his buddies about the boat that got away. Marleena tapped the tip screen, tossing a credit to the program, then logged out. “How’s the work party go?”

  “No surprises this year,” Oops said, dropping onto the end of the couch with all the grace and coordination of a sack of wood scraps. “No Easter lilies, either, thanks be.”

  Marleena shook her head. “I always wondered who thought those would be a good idea. I mean, yes, they are pretty, and pure white, but the pollen gets on everything.”

  “And what the pollen doesn’t get the perfume and root poison finish off.” Barb tossed her short, fat braid over her shoulder and folded herself into a sitting position on the floor. “But it went pretty well. Everyone showed up, and on time, if you can believe it.”

  Oops nodded. “Even Lugubrious Loreena,” and his round face sagged into a mournful droop. “Why do we do this every year? You know those flowers won’t last until New Founders Day. And,” a loud sigh, “who insisted on having grass between the statues? It is so hard to trim. We always get the worst job, scrubbing the plaques and monuments. I bet it will rain and we’ll have to start all over.” He broke character and rolled his eyes. “Her husband is a saint. Must be.”

  “That or deaf,” Barbara added. She twisted left and right, making her back pop. Marleena cringed at the sound. Then Barbara bent backwards before leaning forward and touching her nose to the floor, still cross-legged. “So, I can guess what your big news was.”

  Marleena slumped into the couch, wishing the cushions would eat her. “Yeah. I got the letter at work. The jerk didn’t even have the grace to warn me. I’m just called from my bench and handed the certified letter, on real paper, informing me that I have a new name and that my sire dragoned. And then I had to explain to everyone that no, I had no idea and no, I’m not rich and no, I’m not a slummer.”

  Oscar stared, wide eyed. Barbara scooted forward and rested a hand on Marleena’s knee. “Easy with the venom, Mauri, you’ll kill the end table. That bad?”

  “Yes, that bad.” Marleena took a deep breath and chilled her jets a little. “I don’t care that he opted to Change. That’s his business. I’m steamed that he left me having to explain that he may have had money but I don’t. Thanks be, Mr. Otterson believed me. And he gave me a bonus for completing the work-level and for good work.”

  Oscar leaned over and gave her a little punch on the arm. “Hey, that’s great! Between that and the holiday bonus, you can make a down payment on that house Barb was drooling over, the one in the country with its own pod access and four hectares of unencumbered property. Just don’t plant any roses. Unless you want a visit from my mom.”

  Marleena rolled her eyes in turn. “Not again.”

  “Again. My dam is not going to be long for the world if she keeps this up.” He sat back, wedged into the corner of the couch. “Ya know, she really makes me wonder if they’re right about the Change. Well,” he held one hand up, stopping the girls before they could argue. “You see, everyone says that after the Change, you keep enough of your old self to know not to do things like chase people through the streets, or leave the Reserves, or eat the roses around the visitors’ buildings. I know mother was not the sharpest chisel in the toolbox, but what other pure white stag is there? Because that’s who has been seen eating the rosebushes. And not the cheap ones, either but some brand new hybrids in the botanical garden.”

  “Oh chit. Damn Oscar, that sucks,” Barbara said, lapsing into shop talk.

  “I think kids had it easier back before the Change became legal,” Marleena said, thinking aloud. “I mean all those ancient books we had to read talked about parents, oh, trying to be cool and acting like their kids, or refusing to grow up and embarrassing the rest of the family that way. They didn’t spend years looking for new and exotic things to Change into, or getting out of the Reserves and eating people’s flowers.”

  The roommates thought about it. “Well, I do know I’m taking albino deer off my list,” Oscar said at last, stretching until his back popped. “They either get shot with silver arrows and bullets, or chased by albino dog packs, or steal plants. I’m thinking something quiet, tasteful, and safe. Maybe a giant hedgehog.” With that he shoved himself out of the couch. “Night. Thanks for supper, Barb. And for the tea, Mauri.”

  Barb shook her head. “Giant hedgehog. Right. Probably an albino python so he can hide out in the rafters of the ladies’ changing room at the pool and no one will notice him.”

  Marleena giggled. “I can totally see that. Who was he chasing this time?”

  “No one, but he spent waaaayyy too much time going back and forth behind the gals who were weeding the flowerbeds.” Barbara got on her knees, then leaned forward and pretended to pull plants out of the ground, her rump in the air. “Way too much time.” She stood up, twisted some more, and offered Marleena her hand, pulling her out of the couch’s embrace. “Sorry ‘bout the work mess.”

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nbsp; “Thanks. And thanks for supper. I’ll buy for Founders Day. The boss is waving a group bonus at us if we get all the orders done on time.”

  “Deal.” Barbara turned off the lights and they went to their sleeping cubbies. All three had early-shift jobs.

  #

  Mr. Otterson must have laid down the law, or the gossips had spread the word, because no one said anything to Marleena about her father or her work status. The onslaught of custom holiday orders probably had something to do with it as well, because no one had time to do more than breathe between work pieces. People always wanted old-fashioned hand-made gifts for Founders’ Day, and this being the fiftieth anniversary since the New Founding made them even more popular, or so Mr. Otterson said. Marleena didn’t see any reason to argue, even if she’d had time to. The days grew longer and more hectic, and tempers started to fray. People confined their ire to dirty looks, sniffs, and snorts, but they’d all need the long holiday by the time the second week ended.

  Marleena began getting to work early, sharpening her tools in the locker room and then clocking in so she could get started sooner. She wasn’t the only one, and on the first day of the second week, she walked into the locker room to find a long table crammed into the space and loaded with breakfast food. A sign floated over it saying “From the Co-op.” The shift didn’t waste any time digging in, and everyone seemed to be in a better mood when work officially started. Everyone but Kelsie, who had a chip of some kind on her shoulder. Marleena did her best to ignore the girl. It didn’t take much, since she found parts for four boxes stacked on her workbench as soon as she got into the main space. She managed to finish three before her eyes crossed and she had to stop, walk a little, stretch, take a bathroom break, and sharpen everything. She returned to find Kelsie and Olivia looking at the unfinished box. “Can I help you?”

  “No, you can get back to work,” the floor boss growled. “You’re holding things up. This should have been the first one you did. Alonzo’s been waiting for it, so get busy.” Olivia turned to Kelsie. “Good catch, girl.”

  Marleena started to protest, then stopped herself. No. Not if people were waiting on her. Six weeks and Kelsie would be gone, but she had at least a half-year before she’d get her full work permission and start earning a full wage. Marleena set the first piece in the vice, confirmed the plans and the desired joints, and set to work. It took the better part of an hour for her to finish, dry-fit everything, and smooth it to her satisfaction. Then she picked up the parts, and plans, and checked where the pieces went next.

  They didn’t go to Alonzo! She stared, blinked, and read again. They went to Pat Nguyn’s station, for priming and painting. Marleena almost hurled the box to the floor and stomped on it. Then she thought about throwing the pieces at Kelsie’s head. Instead she recovered her cool and delivered the parts. “Thanks. Put them there, please, under the others,” Pat said, not looking up from his current work piece. Since she had not been trained on fine finishing yet, Marleena started to go back to her own bench.

  “Marleena,” Alonzo called from the next row of workbenches.

  “Sir?”

  “I need a hand if you can spare the time.”

  She hesitated half a second. “Let me check, sir.” She trotted to her bench and found nothing waiting. Then she darted over to the wall display and checked. Nothing coming for at least an hour, because of the need to change blades on the rough-out saws and a few other things. Marleena grabbed her tools and hurried back to Alonzo’s bench. “How can I help, sir?”

  He pushed a stack of cedar blanks at her. “Start these, please. The pattern’s already marked on them, but I need you to do the initial broad shaping cuts. This lion-paw is turning into a nightmare,” he waved at the chair leg clamped in the vice. “The hairs are killing me.”

  “Yes, sir.” As he reached up and adjusted the light for her, Marleena clamped the first piece under the bench dogs and pulled out her fine chisels and gouges. She triple checked that the pattern was indeed correct and set to work. The foliage and tracery design wasn’t that difficult, but it did require care and a light touch, at least for the initial cuts. Marleena lost herself in the work, making sweet-smelling shavings and establishing the basic form of the pattern so Alonzo could cut the details more easily. She finished the first set of panels and was well into the rough shaping of the second set when he straightened up from the chair leg.

  “Yesssss.” He stretched, twisting, then shook out his hands. “I’ll just deliver these and then you can go back to your own station.” He collected the four legs and two chair arms, and strode off to the end of the long row of tables, where the bodgers and chair-makers had their benches. When he returned Marleena packed her tools and started off. “Wait.” He inspected the finished pieces, as well as the one she’d just started. “Very well done.” He tipped one piece. “Come here, and look at the shadow.” She did as ordered. “See how it picks up the little rough spot there? It’s nothing major, but the shadows can be your friend. Good work.”

  “Thank you sir.” Marleena could have floated back to her workbench, tool bag and all. She came down to earth when she saw two sets of box pieces, one of them red tagged. What had she done wrong? Her hands started shaking as she picked up the card. Oh no, the wood had splintered out during the initial cutting and now she had to work around it. At least she hadn’t gotten the red card herself. Marleena gave her tools a lick and a promise with the whetstones and plunged into the job ahead.

  She managed to get everything to work until the third piece, when the hole for the dovetail splintered. Marleena bit her tongue so hard she saw stars and tasted blood. Ow. She finished the rest of the cuts, then smoothed out the splinter, dry fitted the pieces, and unlocked the drawer with the wood putty and fillers in it. A yellow light flashed beside the drawer, alerting Olivia that someone was making a repair. Oh well, Marleena, shrugged, she was on the boss’s bad list anyway. She found the right color and used just a dab to fill in the excess width, counted to sixty as the putty started to firm up, and smoothed it before measuring with her micrometer. She shaved a hair’s thickness off again and remeasured, then set the piece aside to allow the putty to cure.

  To her relief, Olivia didn’t come to sniff the pieces. Marleena left the red tag on, added a note about the split-out, and sent them down the line. She worked steadily through the rest of the day, and had no more red tags or major problems. She did nick herself again, but that was just normal. Marleena finished for the day, clocked out, went home, and fell into bed.

  The days before the New Founders’ Day holiday passed in a blur of shavings and sawdust, wood chips and whetstone whispers. Marleena didn’t see much of Barbara or Oscar. Their jobs kept them equally busy. At last, on the Friday before the holiday, Marleena saw a stack of pieces with a green and white tag on her workbench. The last set had arrived! She cut the dadoes and other fittings, initialed the tag, and carried it to Dorothy’s table with all the reverence she usually reserved for a whole ham.

  Dorothy saw it and grinned, bowing and greeting the pieces with an elegant stage flourish that drew quiet applause from the other carpenters and carvers. Marleena set the pieces down, salaamed, and slouched back to her workbench. She cleaned everything, sharpened everything, swept the floor around the space, and went to clock out.

  Just as her time registered, she heard a whiny voice from around the corner. “But why not? I thought you said you didn’t have plans, and my parents want to honor you for your work.”

  Marleena wondered who Kelsie was sucking up to now. She got her answer before she finished the thought.

  “I said I was not going out of town, Miss Kelsie, not that I did not have plans. Please give my regrets to your parents,” Alonzo said. Marleena wondered if Kelsie heard the angry undertone in the polite words.

  Apparently not. “But it is an honor, Mr. Morgan, to be invited to one of our gatherings.”

  Marleena wanted to tell Kelsie to stick that honor in her ear. Instead she made a
point of rattling her tools and coughing before coming around the corner. “Excuse me, please,” she said, scooting past the two.

  “Sorry,” Alonzo said, easing out of the traffic lane.

  “There’s no excuse for a slummer,” Kelsie snarled under her breath. Marleena pretended to ignore the jab and walked past, keeping a smile fixed on her face. Spinning around and slapping the brat would not accomplish anything, she reminded herself.

  To her surprise, Alonzo Morgan caught up with her at the pod gate. “You should honor challenge her,” he informed Marleena.

  “I what, sir? Honor challenge?” She shook her head. “No, sir. I don’t want to cause trouble on the floor.” More trouble, that was, since Olivia and Kelsie seemed determined to start their own.

  He said something rude-sounding in a foreign language. To her surprise, he got into the pod with her. “Visiting family,” he explained. “Get it over with so I can enjoy the rest of the holiday.” But he smiled as he said it.

  “Ah.” Marleena left it there, and Alonzo didn’t seem interested in pressing matters. He got out two stops before she did, waving as he left. She gave a half-hearted wave back. She appreciated his help, she really did, but if Kelsie was … Marleena’s temper started to flare, then stopped. No, there was no way Kelsie could be angling for Alonzo. Absolutely no way, because she already had seven potential husbands waiting, as she kept telling everyone within ear-shot, and for all that her parents talked about their work with the Founding and the setting of the social codes, they’d never, ever tolerate their only child marrying a handworker, even a master like Alonzo. And he had to be a good deal older than Kelsie, given the grey in his hair.

  Well, Marleena didn’t have to think about either of them for a week. And she and everyone else on the shift had gotten a very nice bonus for finishing everything on time and without error. In fact, that reminded her, she needed to stop and place her grocery order, since she’d promised to buy for the holiday.