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it would be wasteful to leave London’s fabric behind us when we seek new lands to live in. So we shall carry it with us, like the humble snail. . .”
    Only a bit slower than the humble snail , thought Fever, but she did not say so. Instead, she said, “Londoners are angry, irrational people. Don’t they complain that Quercus has torn their homes down?”
    Dr Crumb shook his head. “We have both had bad experiences of the London mob,” he admitted. “But it seems they are not entirely deaf to reason. They know that these tents in which they are forced to live are a temporary measure. Soon they will be rehoused in the buildings we just saw: clean, healthy, efficient buildings, far better than their slums and hovels in the old London. And there are lot of new Londoners now; people who came south with Quercus, or who have flooded in since to help with the building, knowing that there are good wages to be had here, and a rational government to guard and guide them.”
    “Rational?” exclaimed Fever, remembering her meeting with Quercus and the Movement, fierce northern warriors aboard their trundling traction castle.
    “Oh yes, Fever. The Movement has always been one of the smallest of the nomad nations, and it has survived by being more modern and forward-thinking than its rivals. Nikola Quercus is a deeply rational man, and he is advised by rational men. For instance, I suggested to him that free workers are more efficient and humane than slaves, and he agreed. Not only has he freed all the slaves which the Movement brought south, he has purchased whole regiments of slaves from the southlands, and freed them all as soon as they arrived in London.”
    “And did they not just return to their own homes?”
    “A few did, but most saw that it was more rational to stay. They earn good money here, and live in tents provided by the council, which also provides schooling for their children and doctors for the sick and pensions for the old.”
    “How can Quercus afford all that?”
    “Oh, the workers pay a portion of their wages back to him as tax. We all do. It funds our welfare, and helps to pay for this new city on which we shall soon live. Of course, better paid people like myself and Wavey pay a larger proportion of our earnings than the humble labourers.”
    “I suppose that is a rational system,” admitted Fever.
    “It is good for everyone,” said Dr Crumb. “It means that it is in the interests of the commoners to support Quercus and what he is doing here. All down the centuries kings and councils have tried to tame the London mob with guns and soldiers, and Quercus has achieved it through the application of reason. Soon all the junk and clutter of the bad old London will be gone. In its place will be a shining new city of science and progress, not tied to one place but free to roam and grow as reason demands. . .”
    Fever reached out and fondled the taut rope which formed a handrail at the platform’s edge. She could feel it quivering; throbbing like a live thing with the beat of the work being done in the heart of the new city. It is rational, she told herself. If Dr Crumb sees it, why can’t I? It is rational, and the changes that Quercus is making here are good. And she knew that she should be grateful to have a chance to help. She should feel happy to be home.

4
ANCESTRAL VOICES
    ar, far, far to the north, where the ground was ice and the night skies filled with shifting light, the rolling empire of Arkhangelsk was on the move again. Centuries had passed since its founders abandoned the deep-frozen harbour on the White Sea that had given it its name. Peoples from all over the north had joined their caravan as it journeyed on and on, creeping across the world’s steep face in endless search of fuel and pasturage. Their fighting men and landships were away battling the Movement’s northern army in the Fuel Country, but still the empire rolled, the huge heart-fortress of the Great Carn grinding along