Tresjolie, page 1
Tresjolie
by Robin Roseau
Table of Contents
Credits
New Governor
Beginnings
Eating Crow
Expansion
Relief
Traveling
Fright
Movement
Her Mistake
Winter
Eaten
Going Home
Mother
About the Author
Copyright
Credits
I would like to thank the people who helped make this novel the story it is.
To The Lady -- my continued thanks. My life is richer with your company. You support my writing in so many ways, and while I don't always verbalize it, I do appreciate it.
To my beta readers: Henriette and Donna. Thank you so much. My novels are so much better with your help. Any remaining errors are all my own.
I also want to thank a few other notable authors who have been an inspiration over the years: Julie Czerneda, who encourages new writers every day; Catherine Asaro, for kind words offered many years ago; Robert Heinlein, Larry Niven, Marion Zimmer Bradley, Anne McCaffrey -- thank you for showing some of us the way so many years ago.
My readers are the best. They continue to support me, both in their words and through buying my books. As always, thank you so much.
New Governor
I stood by the observation window, staring down at the planet rotating far below me. I was filled with excitement: excitement of a new planet, excitement of a new posting, excitement for the challenges the planet and posting represented. This was the only habitable planet of star system 17,294,195. The system itself held eleven actual planets: two airless planets circling close and even closer to the star, then the third planet, the one below me, then much further from the sun, six gas giants, and then two more dwarf planets in the cold of space. All of the gas giants sported numerous moons; two of them were also clearly ringed. The furthest giant held in a distant orbit one moon that was nearly as large as the planet below me, causing gigantic storms in the planet's deep atmosphere.
But this, the third planet, held life, bountiful life.
The entire system had been isolated for centuries, the original settlers having gotten lost on their way to a completely different system. Early interstellar space travel had been dangerous. The planet had been rediscovered three decades ago and had been under a series of imperial governors ever since.
I was to be the sixth governor, my five predecessors incompetent. They hadn't been able to do one simple task: bring the planet properly under imperial dominion. The natives resisted all efforts to bow to our rightful rule.
Oh, they were quite welcoming, even pleased to see us. Even centuries later, they still told stories of Earth, and we represented their ancient heritage. At first, communication had been difficult; they spoke an offshoot of a centuries-dead Earth language, and they'd had more centuries for the language to shift, becoming something else that had never been spoken on Earth.
But the empire had welcomed them into the fold, which meant teaching them to communicate properly. We had come with schools and technology, and the natives sent us their children to learn from us.
And once a foothold was secured, and communication was secured, we had talked to them about natural resources. And they told us the planet was for all to share. And we had asked them about the resources they had found, and they talked about the lakes and rivers, the forests and the prairies. They talked about soaring mountain vistas and oceans teeming with life. These were the resources they cherished.
They had been, and still remained, ignorant savages.
So we had asked them to guide us as we did our own surveys of the available resources. And they showed us the forests and the prairies, the lakes and rivers, the mountains and oceans. And in promising locations, chosen carefully from orbital surveys, we set up our equipment, and we began digging for samples.
They had been nervous at first, nervous from the moment the machines touched the ground. But they stood and watched, amazed, as our machines bore into the earth. And then we discovered the elements and minerals we hoped to find, and we brought in greater equipment from orbital storage.
The moment the natives saw the mining equipment, then began their interference.
We explained about mining. They already understood mining, and refused to allow it. Tempers became heated on our side. Strangely, according to all the records, the natives remained calm but firm.
There would be no mining.
And then they showed us their planetary charter, painstakingly translated into modern English. The phrase "harmonious relationship with nature" appeared seven times in the document.
By imperial law, planetary charters were inviolate.
The lawyers had gotten involved. Copies of the original charter were sent, at great expense, to earth. Linguists performed their own translations, and we learned the natives had done a very fair translation into modern English. Even the most imperial-friendly of translators was unable to produce a translation that eliminated the most troublesome language.
That had been three decades ago. Three decades and numerous governors, all unable to convince the natives to alter their charter.
And so, they had sent me.
I'd convince them to alter their charter. I had dealt with difficult natives on other planets, and these people were ignorant and sparse, very sparse.
They didn't stand a chance.
Beginnings
I stepped out of the lander and took my first breath of air from my new home. The air was thick, moist, and fragrant; I didn't care for it at all.
I was most unimpressed with my introduction to the planet so far. The lander had been laughable, a ship barely able to achieve orbit, tiny and cramped. It was a Papa-class lander, and barely that. When I had complained, I was told it was the only lander able to set down on the surface. That was ridiculous. Papa-class landers were used for exploration, to drop minuscule teams of soldiers and hardy scientists in out-of-the-way backwater planets without even a hardened landing surface. Any planet that had been in the imperial fold for three decades should have been able to support a proper Delta-class heavy lander, or at the absolute least, a Gamma-class medium lander, and hopefully a luxury model at that.
But I had gotten a good look of the space port during our descent, and I realized the ship's crew had been correct. No medium landers were going to be landing at this port. I couldn't believe this pathetic facility was the main port on the planet, but not only was it the main port, it was the only port.
Ridiculous! I would be fixing that.
But I was on the surface now. I blinked in the bright sun and surveyed the scene. Arrayed before me was the outgoing governor, carrying a forced smile, and beside him his staff, soon to be my staff. I stopped, studying them and my surroundings before stepping forward to accept the outreached hand of the governor.
"Governor Mitchell," I said. "So good of you to greet me." As if he'd had a real choice. "I am Wanda Waverly. Your replacement."
His smile faltered for a moment, then returned. He'd been away from Earth too long, or perhaps had been shipped out here because he wasn't a very good politician. I never would have slipped like that. My smile was firmly in place without the slightest slip.
Of course, I had more to smile over, and the first notice he was to be replaced had arrived with the ship carrying me. He'd had the two days it took for my ship to traverse from the jump point to orbit, and then for me to take the lander from orbit to this minuscule space port.
I looked back to Governor Mitchell. "Shuttle is due to return to orbit in two hours, Governor," I said. "We have just enough time for you to show me to my new offices and then to make the shuttle."
His smile faltered again, and this time it didn't return. "Ms. Waverly," he said, "there is a celebration planned for tomorrow evening. It is a major event every year, and my offices have helped to plan it for months. I had thought we could formalize the transition as an addendum to that celebration. This will give everyone an opportunity to attend your swearing in ceremony."
I frowned. "I do not require a ceremony of any sort," I said. "My authority began the moment I set foot upon the planet. I prefer a clean, prompt transition. Nay, an immediate transition."
The governor began to scowl, and the expression of his aides mirrored his. The governor had been popular, if ineffective. I intended to fire several of the aides, but I would need the cooperation of the rest to manage the planet properly, and a little diplomacy would not cause undue harm to my plans.
"However," I said. "I was unaware of the celebration."
"I have been personally involved in the planning," Governor Mitchell said.
"Then of course, you should attend," I said. "And thus you may depart on a high point, a great success." I didn't even choke on the words.
The smiles returned. A little diplomacy, artfully executed, could go a long way.
"But I dislike ceremony." I turned around. I had brought two aides with me. I gestured, and Foster scurried forth with a single folder. He handed it to me, and I withdrew the first page, handing it to Governor Mitchell. Most communications was handled electronically, but for things like this, paper was still the preferred medium. "My papers of authority," I indicated.
He glanced at them briefly then passed them off to one of his aides. "Well then, Governor Waverly. Welcome to Tresjolie."
* * * *
I was vexed, but I hid it. Governor Mitchell hadn't yet vaca ted the governor's manor nor the Governor's offices. I had been relegated to a room at an inn. An inn. Me, the new governor, and I was staying at an inn, not even a guest room at the manor, not even a suite. But a small room, decorated oddly. I'd been told all the normal housing was already claimed as people flocked to the capitol for tomorrow's celebration; I had been given, of all places, a room normally occupied by a maid of the inn.
I hid my annoyance, sweeping away the multitude of apologies. "It is fine," I said. "It is only a place to sleep, after all."
I had expected to spend most of my time in the Governor's offices, but Governor Mitchell was deeply ensconced in them along with countless aides preparing for the celebration. I had tried to evict the aides and the governor, but while I felt the outgoing Governor had been incompetent, he wasn't stupid. When he explained to me the importance of the ceremony and the interruption required to move everyone to a lesser location during the final stages of planning, I had relented.
But I wasn't happy.
Still, I made do.
During my first two days, I met with each of the governor's lieutenants and governmental secretaries. I already knew the government was understaffed, with several positions unfilled. I would assume responsibility for those duties and the duties of anyone I fired while I sought to fill them with more appropriate individuals.
I met first with the colonial attorney general, Lars Gavin. Our conversation was brief. Mr. Gavin had been a respected district court judge on Travers Four. He was a half century my senior, but I learned quickly he had begun to eschew age rejuvenation treatments. His hair was beginning to turn grey, although his body was fit and his face deeply tanned.
"Yes, I know," he said, running a hand through his hair when he caught me looking at it. "I'm afraid I've gone a little native. They don't believe in rejuvenation, stating that death is just one stage in the circle of life. I maybe have been here a little long, but I can't imagine anywhere I would rather be."
"Reports from your office are sparse," I pointed out. "Can you bring me up to speed?"
"My reports are very complete, Governor," he said. "What do you feel is lacking?"
"Your records are quite sparse," I said. "I have reports of exactly six cases over the last five years, all of them involving spacers or vacationers violating local environmental laws."
"That is correct. Those are the cases that are handled by my offices." I watched as he accessed his tablet, beaming additional information to my tablet. "There. You now have all cases over the last seven years."
I accessed the list he had sent me. It was already categorized by type. The list was surprisingly short and contained nothing out of the ordinary. There were a few bar brawls a year, the occasional assault, a somewhat longer list of lesser offenses, and a single murder. I scanned the list then asked my tablet to organize the list based on the planet of origin of the defendants. Every single one was from off world.
I frowned at my attorney general. "Where are the rest of the records?" I asked coldly.
"What records, Governor?"
"Do the natives have their own legal system?"
"I'm sure they do. I don't know what you're getting at."
"None of these cases involve any of the natives."
He smiled. "Well now, they wouldn't, would they?"
"Explain that statement," I demanded.
"The natives do not give the legal system cause to take notice of them," he said.
I stared at him, unbelieving.
"No bar brawls?"
"No."
"No assaults. No murders."
"None, at least none that I have ever heard of."
"Theft?"
"What would they steal?" he asked. "Everything they need, the planet provides. Governor, you will find these people to be the most honest, peaceful people you could ever meet. I swear, I would arrest them all for abuse of controlled substances, but if they're high on anything, it's in the water."
"I am to believe that not a single native has broken the law?"
"Believe what you want, Governor," he replied. "I have never heard of it. The closest you'll ever get is if you try to break their environmental laws. It's the only time they use force. They will stop you, but they will not hurt you, and when they turn you over, they will be able to state quite clearly what you were doing and why they were forced to lay hands upon you."
I shook my head, wondering how deeply the corruption must go if this was the report I was getting.
But Lars Gavin had a reputation for integrity, and I couldn't possibly accuse him of corruption without proof. I couldn't even dismiss him from his job, although given the number of cases he oversaw, I wondered how he spent his time.
"I know it's hard to believe, Governor. Governor Mitchell asked similar questions when he arrived. I believe if you give yourself time to get to know the planet and its inhabitants, everything will be made clear to you."
"Yes, well," I replied. I didn't intend to be wasting my time getting to know the inhabitants any better than necessary to move them out of the way.
"Thank you, Mr. Gavin. That will be all for now. But I am looking forward to working with you in the future."
"Then until tomorrow night," he said, climbing to his feet and offering his hand. We shook and I escorted him from my tiny office.
I met with Candice Myers next. Ms. Myers was the secretary of state. Her job, in short, was age old, one that was once handled by a castle chatelaine. She oversaw the business of running the government and carried fiduciary responsibility. I reviewed the previous six years governmental budgets prior to meeting with her.
The reports were crisp and clear without a single credit out of place.
I had reviewed the personal history of every leading official long before arriving in system, and it turned out that Ms. Myers and I knew each other. We had worked together for two years a half century ago. As soon as she entered my office, everything came back.
"Hello, Wanda," she said with a warm smile. "It's been a long time."
"Candice," I said in greeting. "Still dating women?"
She returned my smile. "You ruined me for a while, but Melinda and I are just entering our third decade together."
"I ruined you?" I asked.
"It wasn't a kind breakup, Wanda. But we were young then. I forgave you years ago."
The rest rushed in. She shouldn't have been that ruined; we were only together for six months or so, but thinking back, it had been an intense six months. But I'd been given an opportunity on Flatsome, and I'd jumped at the chance. There were other fish in the sea, after all, but opportunities like the one on Flatsome didn't come along every day.
I wondered what it said that I hadn't really remembered the relationship until seeing her face to face. She hadn't changed much, although she had a glow about her she hadn't had when we'd been together.
"You look good," I told her.
"So do you," she said. "Planetary Governor suits you."
"My third posting as governor," I said.
"Ah, yes," she said. "You quelled the rebellion on Sasquatch. We never did hear how you did it."
I smiled. "That was easy. We knew who the troublemakers were. I arrested their families as collaborators then met with the ringleaders."
Candice stared at me. "You threatened innocents?"
"They weren't innocent!" I said. "They were just as much a part of it. Everyone on the planet was; I just couldn't prove it. So I arrested a few people for leverage, then used them to reach a compromise agreement. We gave up a little bit; they gave up a lot more. Everyone went home. End of story."
"And now you have a reputation as a problem solver. Congratulations. You've gotten what you want. Who did you anger to get sent here? Or have you set aside the rest of your aspirations and are here to enjoy the beauty and sunshine?"
"I requested this posting," I said indignantly. "We'll get a new planetary charter, one that is far more amenable to imperial needs, and then I'll land a plum assignment somewhere a little more-"
"Upscale?" she asked.
"Important," I finished.
"Well, good luck with that," Candice replied. "I'm sure you'll let me know if you need anything from my office."
"I've been through your reports. It seems you have done an exemplary job."
