~2.16~

“Adoption?” Ivan repeated, not sure he’d heard Mama correctly as they strolled the pedestrian portion of Meier Avenue. “Forgive me, but I had thought it was your policy not to put anyone back into the system who did not want to be there.”

“It is my policy,” Mama said. “Ginger seems to think she can convince the rest of tribe to take in some of her kids. It‘s not a bad plan… they have to leave the mall when they get too old, anyway. If they do it when they‘re a bit younger, and have somebody to show them the ropes, it might actually make things easier for them.”

“Who would take them in?” Ivan asked.

“Some folks might,” Mama said. “Young hands and quick legs have their advantages in some of the work that needs doing. Ginger says she’ll start small… get herself a couple of poster children, is how she put it, and the rest will follow from that.”

“It might be good if the rest did follow,” Ivan said. “The rest of the children, I mean… all of them. This whole operation is unstable.”

“That’s not your concern,” Mama said.

“It concerns tribe security,” Ivan said. “I am in charge of security for the east.”

“You know, it’s never been totally clear whether the Mile Mall belongs to east or west,” Mama said.

“That’s part of the problem,” Ivan said softly.

“What’s that?” Mama asked. “You start muttering, Ivan?”

“Yes,” he said. “That’s all it is, too… mutterings and misgivings.”

“Well?” Mama prompted.

“Well, what?”

“Let’s hear them.”

“The mall is a weak spot,” Ivan said. “So many children, so few watchful eyes… and all right on top of the straight world. If I wanted to attack tribe, this would be the place I would do it.”

“Attack tribe?” Mama said. “You’re not planning a civil war, are you?”

“Of course not, Mama,” he said smiling. “But if I should change my mind, you’ll be the first one to know.”