Young Rissa by F.M. Busby Page B

message?”  
    â€œNot the personal one; use the one that says you speak for me. It’s clear enough in the readout.”  
    â€œAll right. And thank you, Erika.”  
    Â 
    In due time, Ivan Marchant arrived. They did not recognize one  
    another.  
    â€œIvan? Is it you? I’m Rissa.”  
    The man’s thin face twitched. “I uphold the principle of total Welfare.”  
    â€œIvan!” She turned to Erika. “Are you sure this is my brother?”  
    â€œThe records say so. Fingerprints and retinal patterns match.”  
    Rissa went to him. “It is you, Ivan — isn’t it?”  
    â€œIvan Marchant defends the ethics of Total Welfare and always will!”  
    Erika Hulzein embraced them both. “I’ll take him, Rissa, and try to grow back his mind — what they’ve left of it. I can’t promise full recovery, but I’ll try. My fee’s only half of what it was for you, because he can’t use more than half the training, probably.” Rissa hugged her brother once more; then an attendant led him away. Erika said, “Don’t give up yet, on him; there’s still a chance.”  
    Rissa spat. “There’s a chance that UET’s Presiding Committee will grow wings. They’ve canceled all future elections; it’s the next logical step. But I won’t sit quietly in a duck blind, waiting for them to fly over!”  
    Erika’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you’d dropped that idea.”  
    Half smiling, half snarling, Rissa answered. “Oh, I have — I can’t afford it.” Political assassinations, she had found, came high; all her wealth would barely have bought the death of any one Committee member. “It’s more important that I get off Earth.”  
    She did not mention her independent negotiations with the New Mafia. The Committee was out of her reach, but she had not forgotten Osbert Newhausen — and she felt her plans for that man might shock even Erika Hulzein. Not death — for David and Selene, for Rissa’s eleven years in Welfare and Ivan’s damaged mind, death was not sufficient. She hoped the general would live at least eleven years . . . .  
    To Erika, though, she said only, “You’ve taught me a great deal. But one thing I knew already — settle for what you can get.”  
    â€œNot too cheaply, however. Remember, Rissa — sometimes you can get more than you might think.”  
    Rissa laughed. “Yes, I know. And with your training to help me, perhaps I will.”  
    Â 
    Her million-Weltmark year neared its end; looking back from what she was to what she had been, Rissa felt that it was worth every centum she had paid.  
    Now, readying herself to leave, she conferred more often with Erika. During one such meeting, Frieda Hulzein entered. The brown hair of Erika’s heiress was only beginning to show gray, but in some ways the mother seemed the younger.  
    Frieda sat. “Rissa Kerguelen, isn’t it?” Rissa nodded. “Considering the time you’ve been here, we haven’t seen much of each other. I almost feel you’ve been avoiding me.”  
    Rissa said, “Your responsibilities and my training didn’t overlap greatly. You are, of course, primarily concerned with management and administration. Your subordinates had charge of my studies in those areas.”  
    â€œI suppose so. Well, now — I understand you’re leaving us soon? And like all youngsters, ready to go out and take on the whole world?”  
    â€œNo. Quite the opposite. I’m ready, as soon as possible, to take off this world.”  
    Erika said, “So you’ll be in touch, you two, over the years. Frieda — we’ll be handling Rissa’s Earthside affairs — you’ve seen the agreements, or will. All standard, with the code-changing