Generation Warriors Read Free Page A

younger than she is," he said. No doubt at all who "she" was. "But she calls you her great-great-great grandmother... why?"
    "Remember we told you about coldsleep? How the lightweight members of the expedition survived? That isn't the only time I've been in coldsleep; my elapsed age is... older than you'd expect." She was not sure why she was reluctant to tell him precisely what it was. "Commander Sassinak is my descendant, just as you're descended from people who were young when I went into coldsleep on Ireta, people who are old now."
    He looked more interested than horrified. "And you don't age at all, in coldsleep?"
    "No. That's the point of it."
    "Can you learn at the same time? I've been reading about the sleep-learning methods... would that work in coldsleep as well?"
    "And let us wake up stuffed with knowledge and still young?" Lunzie shook her head. "No, it won't work, though it's a nice idea. If there were a way to feed in information that the person's missing, waking up forty or fifty years later wouldn't be so bad."
    "Do you feel old?"
    Aygar's question was lowest on Lunzie's list of things to think about. She was sure Sassinak had the same back-and-forth tug faced with someone that many generations removed, an uncertainty about what "age" really meant.
    Lunzie put a touch of Discipline in her voice again. "Not old and feeble, if that's what you mean. Old enough to know my mind, and young enough to..." Now how was she going to finish that? "To... to do what I must," she finished lamely.
    But Aygar subsided, asking no more in that difficult area. What he did ask about—and what Lunzie was prepared to answer cheerfully—was the psychological testing procedure that Major Currald, the marine commander, had recommended to him.
    "It's a good idea," Lunzie said, nodding. "My field at one time was occupational rehab. With my experience, they felt I understood troubled spaceworkers better than most. And quite often the root of the problem is that someone's stuck in a job for which they're not suited. They feel trapped—and if they're on a spaceship or station, in a way they are trapped—and that makes for trouble when anything else goes wrong."
    Aygar frowned thoughtfully. "But we were taught that we should not be too narrow—that we should learn to do many things, have many skills. That part of the trouble between heavyworlders and lightweights came from too much specialization."
    "Yes, that can be true. Humans are generalists, and are healthier when they have varied activities. But their primary occupation should draw on innate abilities, should not require them to do what is hardest for them. Some individuals are naturally better at sit-down jobs, or with very definite routines to follow. Others can learn new things easily, but quickly become bored with routines. That's not the person you want running the 'ponics system, which needs the same routine servicing shift after shift."
    "But what about me?" Aygar thumped his chest. "Will I fit in, or be a freak? I'm big and strong, but not as strong as Currald. I'm smart enough, you said, but I don't have the educational background, and I don't have any idea what's available."
    Lunzie tried to project soothing confidence. "Aygar, with your background, both genetic and experiential, I'm sure you'll find—or make—a good niche for yourself. When we get to Sector Headquarters, you'll have direct access to various library databases, as well as testing and counseling services of FSP. I'll be glad to advise you, if you want..." She paused, assessing his expression.
    His slow smile made her wonder if this was her idea or his. "I would like that. I will hope you are right." He stood up, still smiling down at her.
    "Are you leaving? I thought you wanted to talk to the captain."
    "Another time. If you are my ally, I will not worry about her."
    With that he was gone. Lunzie stared after him. Ally? She was not at all sure she wanted Aygar for an ally, in whatever sense he meant it.