proper bathroom, but few of them would dare to risk it.
I still don't understand, Uncle.
My, that has a wonderful sound to it, that Uncle business. It is rather
difficult to explain how things are, but I will try. You see, many in the
Federation insist that austerity is necessary an order for things to function.
This is part of the Expansionist philosophy-that the Federation does not have
enough resources to care for its citizens, and so must get more by exploiting
other planets. As a result, water is rationed and taxed, food is limited and
heavily taxed, although no one goes hungry. There are programs to feed the poor,
and part of the taxes are used to support that. The meal I just ate would cost a
whole day's wages on Terra, and would have had to feed four people, not one. If
they could get anything like that delicious chicken at all.
But, what do they eat, then?
The poor exist on artificial slop that would sicken a dog, Nico. It is grown in
enormous vats and smells like beer gone bad, and . . . well, I don't know what
it tastes lake, because I never could make myself try it. It is nourishing
enough, I suppose-it keeps them alive and reasonably healthy.
Was it always like that?
No, it wasn't. When I went to the Chamber of Deputies, before the Expansionists
got back into power and the austerity policies were introduced, things were
different. Water was already being rationed, but goods were less costly then,
and you could afford to eat in a restaurant from time to time. It just got worse
and worse. There are millions of people on Terra who cannot find jobs, and
cannot earn money, and have to live on public support programs. There are
waiting lists for colonists, but they have not found very many new habitable
planets recently. And most of the older worlds in the Federation are in the same
shape or worse. There have been food riots, and water riots-things you simply
can't imagine. Last year the entire grid went down on one of the continents, and
no one had any power or light for three days.
What's the grid?
The grid is a network of power stations and connections that covers the entire
planet. Due to the deliberate stinginess of the Expansionists, there is said to
be no money for enlarging the grid, even though everyone agrees it should be
done. Thus, in recent years, the demand for energy sometimes outruns the
capacity of the grid to supply it. One substation will go off-line, then
another, and soon everything grinds to a halt. That means that the lifts which
carry people to their homes cease to function, and since many of the buildings
are more than fifty stories off the ground, there is no way to get in or out
until the power comes back on. And that is just one example.
Nico scrubbed his arms with a rough cloth and considered this information. He
had never longed to visit other worlds, unlike his brother who was a bit space
mad. And since he had begun to think he heard Darkover in his mind, he had had
no desire to leave at all. There was a part of him that felt if he ever left the
soil of Darkover entirely, he would die or go insane, as if he were bound to the
world itself. Although the noises that echoed in his mind made him uneasy and
often fearful, there was at the same time a sense of rightness in them. True, he
could not imagine why he, of all people, seemed to have this particular ability,
but the longer it continued, the more accustomed to it he became. He had not
entirely accepted the idea, but as Herm had told him that morning, there did not
appear to be any harm in it. And Herm was the first person he had told of his
strange condition-he had not even confided it to Alanna, who had shared so many
of his secrets when they were younger.
But he had always imagined the planets of the Federation as being places where
everyone flew about in aircars, and lived in light-filled palaces with lots of
devices which provided every conceivable comfort. Somehow he had never thought
that anyone was poor or lacked enjoyment, which he realized now was pretty
stupid. What did those people do with their time, if they did not have jobs?
It sounds terrible! Why do they live like that? I mean, if everyone has to
measure their water and are taxed for it-I don't understand that at all,
Uncle-why don't they just do it differently?
A good question-one that has troubled better minds than mine. The only answer I
have is that the Terrans are an love with their technology, and they truly
believe that all problems can be solved with it-that and the resources of the
member planets. They never consider if the idea that everything can be made
right with technological advances might be an illusion. So they take the grain
from one world to feed the masses of Terra, and the metals from another to build
their ships, so they can continue to explore the galaxy, looking for more
planets to colonize. No one has addressed the plain fact that they haven't
settled a new colony in eleven years, because there hasn't been anything but
worlds so marginal that no one in their right mind would agree to go there.
What's a marginal world? Domenic felt overwhelmed with the information he was
learning, as well as the strange words that Herm used so casually, but he was
fascinated and determined not to miss this opportunity.
Oh, one that is even colder than Darkover, or where the air is not quite
breathable, or has little arable land. Thetis, where your mother grew up, is one
example, and she would not recognize it if she went there now. Has she ever
talked about it?
Oh, yes. I know all about the islands and the delfins. It sounds very beautiful.
It was a paradise, when Lew and Diotima lived there, Nico. Not much land, just
about ten medium-sized islands and one very big one, and lots and lots of ocean.
And now? Ocean was a difficult concept for him, despite having gotten glimpses
of such a thing from a few of his mother's memories, and the occasional moments
when he was sure he could see the Sea of Dalerueth rolling against the shore. He
had taken a ride, while he was at Arilinn, along the banks of the Valeron, and
knew that if he been allowed to ride west along it, it would have ended at the
sea. There had been a moment when he had wished he could do just that, ride
toward the setting sun until he reached the river's terminus. Foolish, of
course.
It made him rather angry that he had spent so much of his life cooped up in
Comyn Castle, and was so very ignorant, but after a moment he shook the feeling
off. It was not worth bothering about. He was free now, and since he might never
again have the opportunity to sleep in an inn, or ride along the North Road with
a band of Renunciates in search of Terranan spies, he might as well enjoy it
while he could. He turned his attention back to his uncle.
They discovered a rare element they needed for weapons development about ten
years ago, and started mining it from the oceanbed. Now there are no more
delfins, Nico, because the sea has been poisoned, and they think in five years,
most of the rest of the life in those waters will be dead, too. Worse, the
cancer rate on Thetis has increased
greatly, and people are dying for no more
reason than that Interworld Mining was too greedy to take measures to avoid
destroying the ecology. Once the plankton stop using up the carbon dioxide, the
air will become unbreathable on Thetis, and in a short time the place will
become uninhabitable.
Nico was puzzled over several of the terms his uncle used, but he fastened on
just one. What's plankton? Mother never mentioned that.
Nico sensed Herm's gentle amusement at this question, but did not feel stupid.
He felt safe with his newest uncle, and found his mild teasing to be very
pleasant. He only wished he could be as comfortable with everyone as he was with
Hermes Aldaran.
They are very small organisms, so small you can only see them with an optical
device. Some of them are plantlike, and others are really tiny animals, but on a
world without great forests of trees, like Darkover, these provide breathable
air. We've had three bills in the Senate in the last three years to provide
money to clean up Interworld's mess on Thetas, and two of them have been
defeated as being too costly. And the last one was in committee when the
legislature was dissolved, so it is dead now as well. Basically, the Federation
has decided that it is not worth throwing good money away on a losing
proposition, particularly when Thetis is considered an unimportant world.
It isn't unimportant to the people who live there!
No, of course it isn't. The problem is that there are a great many people who
think that money is more important than anything, and that human beings are a
disposable resource.
It sounds like they think that planets are disposable, too, Uncle.
"My fingers are starting to turn into prunes," Herm said aloud. "Are you clean
enough now?"
"Yes, I am. I just wish I had some cleaner clothes."
"Then why don't we go out and see if there is a stall in the market and get you
some new ones." We can do a bit of snooping at the same time.
"Good. I like that idea." Nico scrambled out of the tub, dripping, and stood on
the planked floor, watching the droplets slip off his skin. Then he wrapped
himself in a large towel and dried off. He redressed, trying not to feel too
disgusted by the state of his garments. If he had known when he left that he was
going to be away overnight, he would have brought a fresh shirt, at least.
"How's your back feeling, Uncle Ian?"
"Much better, thank you. I believe I will forgo Danila's ministrations for the
present. She looks strong enough to snap me in half."
Nico chuckled, for indeed the large Renunciate was rather intimidating. She did
not look like any healer Domenic had ever met before. Herm got his clothes back
on, and they went downstairs again. It was much quieter now that the muleteers
had left to continue their journey.
They stepped out into the courtyard of the inn into watery sunlight. There were
thin clouds overhead, and heavier ones mounded toward the western horizon. It
would rain before the next morning, but he was not weatherwise enough to guess
how soon. Nico just hoped it would not prevent the Travelers from performing. He
hadn't gotten to see much the previous evening, and he was looking forward to
more.
Herm asked a groom about the local marketplace, and got directions. They walked
away from the Crowing Cock in companionable silence, both of them relaxed from
their baths and full bellies. After getting slightly lost in one of the winding
streets of the town, they finally found their way to an open square, bustling
with commerce. There was a glass blower near the entrance, and Nico stopped for
a few minutes to watch the work. The heat from the open air oven was tremendous,
and it felt good against the growing chill of the day.
They found a clothing stall, and purchased undergarments, a cheap shirt, two
woolen tunics, a pair of trews for Domenic, and some things for Herm as well. It
was rather exciting to him, since he had never been allowed to explore the
marketplaces in Thendara, and he was disappointed when Herm said it was time to
go back to the inn.
But when they arrived at the inn, the yard was blocked by the colorful wains of
the Travelers, and he forgot his disappointment in having to leave the market.
He saw the man called Vancof get down from the seat of the puppet wagon, and
stepped quickly into Herm's shadow, to avoid being seen. Then the red-haired
girl climbed down from the back of the wagon and stretched luxuriously. He hoped
she would not notice him, or ask any questions if she did, for the few glimpses
he had gotten of her mind told him she was quick and a bit headstrong.
The driver looked pale and pinched, and he shuffled away from the wagon, heading
toward the inn. He probably wanted some beer, Nico thought, although after all
the drinking he had done the previous night, the boy felt he oughtn't. The plump
woman who had been arguing with him during the morning came out of the wagon and
shouted at him. "You lazy good-for-nothing! Damn you for a sot!" She made a fist
and shook it at him.
Vancof ignored her and vanished into the doorway of the inn. The woman looked
unhappy. "Now, how am I going to manage those animals without him?" She looked
around rather helplessly, since all the rest of the Travelers were busy with
their own wagons and teams.
Herm took this in with a swift glance, and walked over to the angry woman. "I'm
not unhandy with a mule, mestra. Perhaps I could be of assistance."
To Nico's surprise, she laughed, making her face transform from miserable and
angry to quite pleasant. She must have been very pretty when she was younger, he
decided. "You don't know what you are thinking of," she told Herm. "Those mules
are the meanest animals on Darkover, not counting a hungry catamount. Only my
driver can manage them, and he gets bitten six times out of seven." He's been
nothing but trouble since he joined us, that Dirck, and I wish we had someone
else. Even if he did come from Istvan's troup-they were probably glad to be rid
of him.
"Well, let me give it a try. If I get bitten, then it is my own fault for not
listening to you."
"No one listens to me," the woman moaned, shaking her head and setting her
grizzled braids in motion. "Not my flighty niece, or anyone. I am only a woman,
and almost alone in the world, except for the girl, who is more trouble than she
is worth, even though she is a very good puppeteer. If only she were as good a
girl as she is a string-twiddler."
"She's very young," Herm said sympathetically. Nico watched the man, and would
have sworn that charm was oozing out of his freshly-bathed pores. "She will grow
out of it."
"Not soon enough for me. Well, I am Loret, and I will take you up on your offer,
even if I think you are crazy to make it." She was clearly persuaded by Herm's
pleasantries, and Nico wondered if she was flirting with his uncle.
"Ian MacAnndra at your service, Mestra Loret." He walked away toward the
animals, who were indeed an evil-looking pair of underfed mules. They snorted
and brayed, and one snapped its large teeth when Herm's hand reached for the
traces. The man deftly avoided the attack, and said something in a low voice.
The mules pricked their ears, stamped their hooves, and shifted from side to
side uneasily. Their eyes rolled mistrustfully, but they offered no further
resistence, and in a few minutes Herm had successfully removed them from the
long bars of wood on each side, and led them away toward the stables.
"Well, I never!" Loret looked amazed. Then she turned on the girl, who had been
standing quietly, watching all of this. "Are you planning to grow roots and
flowers there, Illona? Get inside and work on the costumes. It will be dark
soon, and you won't be able to see well enough to sew.
"Oh, Auntie! I've been cooped up for hours!"
"No sauce, girly! You do as you are told, or there will be no supper for you."
Illona did not appear in the least frightened by this threat, and from the
well-upholstered appearance of her aunt, it was probably an empty one. She just
stuck out her tongue, as she had the first time Nico had seen her, and shrugged.
"The dolls are fine," she muttered sulkily.
"Nonsense! The ruffle on Cassilda's costume needs mending."
"I hate sewing!"
"We all have to earn our keep. Now do as you are told."
Illona looked as if she might refuse for just a moment. Then she gave a large,
dramatic sigh and started to go back to the wagon. She glanced at Nico as she
went past, and her eyes widened. "Don't I know you?"
Domenic shook his head. "Not unless you saw me last night." She had only seen
him in the shadows of a doorway, and his hair had been pulled back, not hanging
loose beside his face as it was now, but he had the feeling that very little
escaped her sharp eyes. "I watched some of the performance while I was waiting
for my uncle."
"Oh. That must be it. You look very familiar."
"Maybe I just have a common face."
She giggled softly. "Hardly that." I know I didn't see him last night, but
where? Oh, well, I am probably imagining things again. Still, there is something
about him. "I'm Illona Rider."
"Tomas MacAnndra."
"I have to go sit in the wagon and sew," she complained.
"And you hate sewing. Are you good at it?"
"Yes, very skilled. That's why I have to do it. Aunty doesn't understand that
just because you are good at something doesn't mean you enjoy it."