Jenna Starborn by Sharon Shinn Read Free Book Online Page B

main house. “They have a handful of techs—they can back each other up. It is only we, at the house, who need help from them. No, Miss—Starborn, you do not want to be trafficking with the miners.”
    Now that I was no longer in fear of being dumped out of the car, I began to be amused. “But, Mrs. Farraday, whatever could be wrong with them? I have been around rough, untutored men and women before.”
    â€œThey are all of that,” she said with a certain grimness. “And some of them are worse.”
    â€œAre they cyborgs?” I asked.
    She seemed to jump as if scalded. “Cyborgs! What would make you ask such a thing? Mr. Ravenbeck would not have cyborgs on his premises!”
    â€œThe more loss to Mr. Ravenbeck, then,” I said quietly. “But tell me what the problem is with the miners.”
    She seemed to stiffen her spine, as if girding herself to say a most unpleasant thing. “You yourself are a half-citizen, Miss—Starborn,” she said. There was no way she could avoid knowing this; it had to be included on my resume. “You know that to be taken seriously in this society, you must behave better than your own class. You must associate upward, not downward. And the miners, for you, would be a step downward. Your behavior must be above reproach for you to look for any advancement at all.”
    â€œI do not look for much advancement,” I said slowly, “but I do take your point. You are telling me that the workers are not even half-cits, then. Are they criminals? Have they given up all status?”
    She nodded unhappily. “Some of them. Not the mine supervisor or his assistant, of course. Now, promise me, Miss Starborn, you will not leave the manor grounds. Promise me you will not mingle where it is against your best interests to go.”
    I had never met anyone of no status before, and I must admit my curiosity burned far more brightly than my fear, but I had no particular reason to alarm this somewhat simple-minded lady who appeared to have only my well-being at heart. “Certainly I will not seek out trouble, Mrs. Farraday,” I said gently. “It is kind of you to warn me.”
    At that, she relaxed, and allowed the hovercar to drop back to a more reasonable speed. We were nearly at the house, in any case, and she must now begin maneuvering the vehicle through the narrow tunnel that led to the garage. She was not very adept at this task, and so I said very little during this passage so that she could concentrate more fully.
    Once we were safely parked and back inside the spacious foyer, Mrs. Farraday seemed to experience a revival of spirits, and asked me quite happily if I would care to join her in an afternoon snack. Soon we were seated in a tastefully decorated blue salon, where I had been told we would take all our informal meals, sipping hot tea and munching on some excellent cookies.
    â€œTell me, Mrs. Farraday, just who exactly the owner of Thorrastone Park is,” I said somewhat boldly, for she was so genteel that I was not sure she could bring herself to gossip. “The name, Everett Ravenbeck, I know from the papers, but of the man I know almost nothing at all.”
    â€œHe is a level-one citizen,” she said earnestly, as if that summed him up completely. In one sense, it did; it told me he had wealth, resources, the right to travel anywhere he chose, and, no doubt, a cosmopolitan outlook on life that I could never hope to understand. On the other hand, it told me nothing.
    â€œBut what is he like?” I pressed. “Is he kind? Cruel? Indifferent? Patient? Peremptory? Does he like to laugh, or is he a silent man? What are his opinions and philosophies?”
    â€œHe is kind—very kind,” she said somewhat randomly; clearly she had never before been asked to analyze her employer for his merits. “And—yes!—he is intelligent. I cannot follow half his conversation, but I listen and