Wilson set the robot controls and turned to face her. "Nobody wants to punish you girls," he said softly. "Members of the Council least of all. But they have to maintain discipline. It's the only way we can get the big job done."
She understood. She had heard it all a thousand times before. No one's feelings, nothing, neither life nor death, must be allowed to halt or hinder the big job, the job that was to bring that bright future.
"Can you tell me anything about Darth Brady?" she said.
"I can tell you only that he wears two ribbons and three stars."
"Two ribbons?" Sue gasped. "Is he dead?"
"No." Wilson's voice was deep, controlled with effort. "No. Darth Brady isn't dead. But, Sue, you must not think about him. You know the rules."
The tight knot in Sue's breast worked up into her throat. She blinked rapidly and squeezed the flesh around her eyes to keep the moisture back. "I know the rules," she said.
Wilson tuned the communicator to the factory. "Tube department foreman," he said, but didn't cut in the viewplate. "Al Wilson, from the Center," he went on. "Sure, Mom, I'm fine. I've borrowed one of your girls. Don't let it get talked about. Will have her back soon."
"Your mother?" Sue asked.
"Yep! A fine girl. She works fifteen hours a day and still finds time to keep records for the Council."