Around the table, antennae flashed amazed colors. A precedent had been set. Interest in the job transcended even the Contract.
"Management sustains the grievance?" Tichnat droned incredulously.
"Of course," Starza said.
Nadkek left the conference room, his antennae a puzzled mauve.
"Next," Starza said pontifically.
The next grievance was simply that a foreman had spoken harshly to a Term. The Term resented it. In his tribe he had been a fighter, prime guardian of the Queen-Mother. Fighters could not be reprimanded as could spinners or workers.
Starza and Tichnat split hairs while I dozed and thought about Fern.
Starza finally promised to reprimand the foreman. It was lovely, the way he thumped on the table, aflame with righteousness, his voice golden thunder, the martyr, hurt by Tichnat's unfairness, yet so eager to compromise, to be fair. The next grievance was work standards. Starza looked at me. This one mattered. This was cost.
I pulled out my study proofs, said, "Radnor, in final assembly. Consistently in the hole. Rating, seventy-four percent—"
"The operation was too tight, Jake. Admit it!"