gravity. "If such a one exists, she has been—reticent."
Er Thom glanced away then, but not before Daav had seen the quick shine of tears in his eyes.
They finished their wine in a silence not so easy as usual.
"It is time, brother," Daav said at last. "Do you come with me?"
"Yes, certainly," Er Thom replied. "I had left my cloak in the hall."
"Mine is with it," Daav said, and arm-in-arm, they quit the room.
IT WAS LATE.
Aelliana had no very clear notion of precisely how late; her thoughts, fears, and discoveries muddled time past counting.
Less hasty consideration showed that her initial plan—to leave Clan Mizel and Liad immediately—required modification. She walked the misty streets for unheeded hours, working and reworking the steps, weighing necessity against certitude, honor against fear.
Fact: In due time, and barring unfortunate accidents, nadelms did, indeed, become delms.
Fact: Learned Scholar of Subrational Mathematics Aelliana Caylon, lately resolved to flee her homeworld for the comforts of a Terran settlement, spoke not one word of Standard Terran, nor any of the numerous Terran dialects. She did, of course, speak Trade, and understand somewhat of the Scout's finger-talk, but she could not, upon sober reflection, suppose this knowledge to balance her ignorance.
She might take sleep-learning to remedy her deficiency of language. But even sleep-learning takes time; and the skills thus gained must be exercised in waking mind, or else be lost like any other dream.
There were, of course, luxury liners which made such things as Learning Modules available to their passengers, but to book such passage was—
Fact: Beyond her meager means.
A visit to the ticketing office in mid-city had revealed that seven cantra would indeed buy passage to a Terran world, via tramp trader. If she wished to crew as part of her fare—and if the captain of the vessel agreed—she might reduce her cost to four cantra.
In either wise, she arrived at her destination—one Desolate —clanless, bankrupt; ignorant of language, custom and local conditions.
A badly flawed equation, in any light. She leaned against a damp pillar and closed her eyes, sickened by the magnitude of the things she did not know.
Ran Eld was right, she thought drearily: She was a fool. How could she have considered leaving Liad? She was no Scout, trained in the ways of countless odd customs, able to learn foreign tongues simply by hearing them said. . .
"Scholar Caylon?" The voice was familiar, light and young, the mode, of all things, Comrade, though she took pains to be no one's friend.
"Scholar Caylon?" the voice persisted, somewhat more urgently. She had the sense that there was a body very close to her own, though her interlocutor did not venture a touch. "It is Rema, Scholar. Do you require aid?"
Rema, Scout Corporal ven'Deelin. She of the eidetic memory. Aelliana pried open her eyes.
"I beg your pardon," she whispered, answering the warmth of Comrade mode with the coolth of Nonkin. Her glance skated past the Scout's face.
"Indeed, it is nothing. I had only stopped to rest for a—" Her gaze wandered beyond the Scout's shoulder and for the first time in many hours Aelliana's brain attended to the information her eyes reported.
"What place is this?" she demanded, staring at a wholly unfamiliar plaza, at a double rainbow of lights that blazed and flashed along a sidewalk like a ribbon of gold. Folk were about in distressing number, most in cloaks and evening dress, small constellations of jewels glittering about their elegant persons. Others were dressed more plainly, with here and there a glimpse of Scout leather, such as the girl before her wore.
"Chonselta Port," Rema said patiently, yet insisting upon Comrade. "It is the new gaming hall—Quenpalt's Casino. We've all come down to see it—and half Solcintra, as well, by the look of the crowd!"
Chonselta Port. Gods, she had walked the long angle through
Er Thom glanced away then, but not before Daav had seen the quick shine of tears in his eyes.
They finished their wine in a silence not so easy as usual.
"It is time, brother," Daav said at last. "Do you come with me?"
"Yes, certainly," Er Thom replied. "I had left my cloak in the hall."
"Mine is with it," Daav said, and arm-in-arm, they quit the room.
IT WAS LATE.
Aelliana had no very clear notion of precisely how late; her thoughts, fears, and discoveries muddled time past counting.
Less hasty consideration showed that her initial plan—to leave Clan Mizel and Liad immediately—required modification. She walked the misty streets for unheeded hours, working and reworking the steps, weighing necessity against certitude, honor against fear.
Fact: In due time, and barring unfortunate accidents, nadelms did, indeed, become delms.
Fact: Learned Scholar of Subrational Mathematics Aelliana Caylon, lately resolved to flee her homeworld for the comforts of a Terran settlement, spoke not one word of Standard Terran, nor any of the numerous Terran dialects. She did, of course, speak Trade, and understand somewhat of the Scout's finger-talk, but she could not, upon sober reflection, suppose this knowledge to balance her ignorance.
She might take sleep-learning to remedy her deficiency of language. But even sleep-learning takes time; and the skills thus gained must be exercised in waking mind, or else be lost like any other dream.
There were, of course, luxury liners which made such things as Learning Modules available to their passengers, but to book such passage was—
Fact: Beyond her meager means.
A visit to the ticketing office in mid-city had revealed that seven cantra would indeed buy passage to a Terran world, via tramp trader. If she wished to crew as part of her fare—and if the captain of the vessel agreed—she might reduce her cost to four cantra.
In either wise, she arrived at her destination—one Desolate —clanless, bankrupt; ignorant of language, custom and local conditions.
A badly flawed equation, in any light. She leaned against a damp pillar and closed her eyes, sickened by the magnitude of the things she did not know.
Ran Eld was right, she thought drearily: She was a fool. How could she have considered leaving Liad? She was no Scout, trained in the ways of countless odd customs, able to learn foreign tongues simply by hearing them said. . .
"Scholar Caylon?" The voice was familiar, light and young, the mode, of all things, Comrade, though she took pains to be no one's friend.
"Scholar Caylon?" the voice persisted, somewhat more urgently. She had the sense that there was a body very close to her own, though her interlocutor did not venture a touch. "It is Rema, Scholar. Do you require aid?"
Rema, Scout Corporal ven'Deelin. She of the eidetic memory. Aelliana pried open her eyes.
"I beg your pardon," she whispered, answering the warmth of Comrade mode with the coolth of Nonkin. Her glance skated past the Scout's face.
"Indeed, it is nothing. I had only stopped to rest for a—" Her gaze wandered beyond the Scout's shoulder and for the first time in many hours Aelliana's brain attended to the information her eyes reported.
"What place is this?" she demanded, staring at a wholly unfamiliar plaza, at a double rainbow of lights that blazed and flashed along a sidewalk like a ribbon of gold. Folk were about in distressing number, most in cloaks and evening dress, small constellations of jewels glittering about their elegant persons. Others were dressed more plainly, with here and there a glimpse of Scout leather, such as the girl before her wore.
"Chonselta Port," Rema said patiently, yet insisting upon Comrade. "It is the new gaming hall—Quenpalt's Casino. We've all come down to see it—and half Solcintra, as well, by the look of the crowd!"
Chonselta Port. Gods, she had walked the long angle through
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