She’s the scheduler for the new settlement.”
“What does a scheduler do?” Wayde, or perhaps Rob, piped up.
“I reconcile fantasy and reality.” Lia gave her standard answer. The two older men looked confused, but Colan choked out a laugh and shook his head. “What I do is constantly update work schedules, both actual and projected, and coordinate materials deliveries. When settlers start to arrive, I’ll schedule their arrival times to fit with available lodgings. Things like that.”
Wayde and Rob nodded complete non-understanding. “Can’t a program do that?”
Lia rocked her head back and forth. “Some can, but there are so many variables and speculation and guesswork, it’s hard for an AI to predict more than a few hours into the future. People don’t make updates into the system often enough when they are working hands-on, so the system never has up-to-date information. I, on the other hand, go out and talk to people and get their actual progress updates inputted in real time. I also know when someone is likely to be overestimating or underestimating their progress. What do you two do here in Pearl?”
“We mostly sleep and drink in Pearl.” Rob grinned at her and elbowed Wayde in the ribs.
“These two are shellers, which means they go out in the forest and hunt for mineralized flivver shells. When they’re here in town they usually do just sleep or drink,” Colan explained as he glanced between them. The older men bobbed their heads again and watched Lia.
“I see, I think. I read about these shells. They’re pretty valuable aren’t they?”
“Can be, Lia, they can be.” Rob reached into a pocket of his jumpsuit and withdrew a tiny pink vial. He untwisted the cap and gestured for her hand. She reached out, and he tapped the container against her palm, and a small curved piece of stone fell out. It looked like a sliver of a rainbow; colors shimmered and shifted across the surface as Lia held it up to the light. For its diminutive size, it was mighty eye-catching.
“That’s amazingly beautiful. And that’s part of a dead insect, or what are they, flivvers?”
“Yep. Similar to insects but with exothermic systems and seven legs rather than six. That was a wing carapace for an altoid niens . They have three. Uneven number of wings, but somehow they manage to fly. Judging by the chatoyancy and weight, it’s been percolating in mineral water for about a thousand years.”
Lia was charmed by the idea that something so lovely could come from a discarded bug part. She carefully tilted it back into Rob’s vial, and he capped and stowed it in a swift, practiced movement. “Are they rare?”
“Not especially. Flivver parts litter the ground in some areas. But really fine ones like that are hard to find. Most get broken or ground up before they can transform.” Wayde nodded and ate a fruit compote tart. Colan retrieved two and handed one to Lia before they all disappeared in Rob’s hands. He shot Colan a foul look but smiled when the column spiraled up three more from its interior. Claude must have loaded quite a few appetizers into them tonight.
“I’d love to look for some.”
“It’s rough out there.” Colan gave her a stern look, his slight scowl and narrowed eyes similar to when his features were touched by humor. The differences between happy Colan and angry Colan were miniscule. “There are worse things than foot weevils in the forests.”
“Now, don’t go scarin’ her, Tor.” Wade shook his head and ate another tart. “We’ll take you out so you can have a gander. You just got here, and I bet you haven’t seen much beyond the walls of your office, have you? Don’t know how you folks can be inside so much and not just lose your grip on sanity.”
Lia nodded agreement. The idea of an adventure appealed to her. She’d come to an unsettled planet for the chance to have some excitement, and to prove she could handle a project of this size and complexity, especially
“What does a scheduler do?” Wayde, or perhaps Rob, piped up.
“I reconcile fantasy and reality.” Lia gave her standard answer. The two older men looked confused, but Colan choked out a laugh and shook his head. “What I do is constantly update work schedules, both actual and projected, and coordinate materials deliveries. When settlers start to arrive, I’ll schedule their arrival times to fit with available lodgings. Things like that.”
Wayde and Rob nodded complete non-understanding. “Can’t a program do that?”
Lia rocked her head back and forth. “Some can, but there are so many variables and speculation and guesswork, it’s hard for an AI to predict more than a few hours into the future. People don’t make updates into the system often enough when they are working hands-on, so the system never has up-to-date information. I, on the other hand, go out and talk to people and get their actual progress updates inputted in real time. I also know when someone is likely to be overestimating or underestimating their progress. What do you two do here in Pearl?”
“We mostly sleep and drink in Pearl.” Rob grinned at her and elbowed Wayde in the ribs.
“These two are shellers, which means they go out in the forest and hunt for mineralized flivver shells. When they’re here in town they usually do just sleep or drink,” Colan explained as he glanced between them. The older men bobbed their heads again and watched Lia.
“I see, I think. I read about these shells. They’re pretty valuable aren’t they?”
“Can be, Lia, they can be.” Rob reached into a pocket of his jumpsuit and withdrew a tiny pink vial. He untwisted the cap and gestured for her hand. She reached out, and he tapped the container against her palm, and a small curved piece of stone fell out. It looked like a sliver of a rainbow; colors shimmered and shifted across the surface as Lia held it up to the light. For its diminutive size, it was mighty eye-catching.
“That’s amazingly beautiful. And that’s part of a dead insect, or what are they, flivvers?”
“Yep. Similar to insects but with exothermic systems and seven legs rather than six. That was a wing carapace for an altoid niens . They have three. Uneven number of wings, but somehow they manage to fly. Judging by the chatoyancy and weight, it’s been percolating in mineral water for about a thousand years.”
Lia was charmed by the idea that something so lovely could come from a discarded bug part. She carefully tilted it back into Rob’s vial, and he capped and stowed it in a swift, practiced movement. “Are they rare?”
“Not especially. Flivver parts litter the ground in some areas. But really fine ones like that are hard to find. Most get broken or ground up before they can transform.” Wayde nodded and ate a fruit compote tart. Colan retrieved two and handed one to Lia before they all disappeared in Rob’s hands. He shot Colan a foul look but smiled when the column spiraled up three more from its interior. Claude must have loaded quite a few appetizers into them tonight.
“I’d love to look for some.”
“It’s rough out there.” Colan gave her a stern look, his slight scowl and narrowed eyes similar to when his features were touched by humor. The differences between happy Colan and angry Colan were miniscule. “There are worse things than foot weevils in the forests.”
“Now, don’t go scarin’ her, Tor.” Wade shook his head and ate another tart. “We’ll take you out so you can have a gander. You just got here, and I bet you haven’t seen much beyond the walls of your office, have you? Don’t know how you folks can be inside so much and not just lose your grip on sanity.”
Lia nodded agreement. The idea of an adventure appealed to her. She’d come to an unsettled planet for the chance to have some excitement, and to prove she could handle a project of this size and complexity, especially
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