went, most likely what little they possessed would soon go from them too. Poor in equipment, resources, trained personnel, the plants were inefficient at first, their output barely sufficing to maintain Skyholm and its machines. Yet it did suffice, and meanwhile farms were becoming more productive again, and a little traderevived, and some persons found leisure to rescue books from decay and study them.
Meanwhile, also, the power of Skyholm spread. This began almost willy-nilly, a matter of suppressing raiders or marshaled, covetous enemies. Later, generation by generation, it became a matter of policy – of duty and destiny. Sometimes the Aerogens used groundling troops, with flyers to help and the lasers in reserve. Oftener an area was glad to be annexed, by way of shrewd diplomacy, dynastic marriages, or the like. After all, entry into the Domain conferred many benefits. Peaceful borders and free trade were the most obvious. Surveillance from above increased public safety, spotted incipient crop diseases or rich fishing grounds, provided up-to-date maps. Weather forecasts and occasional weather modification were of incalculable value. The Consvatoires which Clansfolk founded were schools, libraries, laboratories, museums, repositories and wellsprings of knowledge; from them came physicians, agronomists, learned men and women of every kind. Nor did Skyholm require much in return: modest tribute, enactment of a few laws which chiefly concerned human rights, cooperation in business of importance to the whole Domain. Otherwise, except for the region around Tournev, states remained autonomous.
Or so the theory went, and for centuries theory counted for a great deal – or myth did, awe, a sense of fate, a hope that this race, divinely chosen, would restore the whole world.
That could not be, of course. The limit of achievement came at last, in debatable lands where Skyholm was on the horizon. To move it closer to them would have been to remove its protection from others whose fealty was ancient. The Aerogens could not master the planet; despite all, its members were only mortal.
The globe overhead grew dim. Stars blinked forth. ‘I must go back,’ Faylis said. ‘I wish I didn’t have to, but my reputation and –’ She broke off. He could barely see her lashes flutter.
‘And mine?’ he ventured. His heart leaped. ‘You’re safe with me.’ A chuckle. ‘Curse it. But you are.’
‘I know. And I wish – But we met such a short while ago!’
‘What difference does that make?’ She did not resist when he drew her to him. In a minute she was learning how to kiss a man.
It stopped with that. He dared not push his luck further, yet. Aided by his flashlight – emblem and perquisite of an electfew – they made an unsteady way down the stairs, out the door, and along the streets. Several times they laughed together, or skipped over the paving stones.
When they entered Tournev, they had better be more decorous. They were not in the riverside district, but a section for Clansfolk and wealthy groundlings. Ordinarily she lived in a dormitory at the Consvatoire, but this chanced to be a holiday week, Harvest. For that period she had moved over to the comfort of a mansion belonging to the Aurillac family, together with several fellow students. It had ample space, and such courtesies to their kind were usual.
The ranking occupant at present was Talence Jovain Aurillac, here on business of the estate he governed in the Pryny Mountains. As the butler admitted Iern and Faylis, he came out of a writing room. Lamplight cast shadows over his face, making it a lair for his eyes. ‘Great Charles, girl!’ he exclaimed. Where he came from, the name of the First Captain was seldom used as an oath. ‘What have you been doing? Do you know what the time is?’
She bridled. ‘
Do you
know what right you have to ask me, sir?’ she responded. ‘None!’
Jovain stiffened. After a second, his stare swung to his kinsman, and Iern
Glimpses of Louisa (v2.1)