She stopped abruptly, wiped her cheeks dry, and looked at Tal as if she had all the answers. “Should I do it? Did it help you?”
Tal wished she had refilled her drink after all. Stalling for time, she drained her glass and waited a few pipticks for the nearest catering staff to wander by. After setting the glass on his tray, she turned back to Kylinn, who by now had straightened and regained her outward control.
“Our situations aren’t the same,” Tal said carefully. “I didn’t have to turn mine the way you did yours.”
“But you still turned them. You still made them kill their own people.”
“Yes. And Rax will probably never forgive me. But we did at least come to an understanding, I suppose. I understand better how he could do what he did, and he’s realized that we had the right to fight back any way we could. And just having that bit of understanding does help.” She smiled wryly. “Though I didn’t think so at first. After I met him the first time I…slid back a bit. It took another meeting or two for it to really sink in.”
“For what to sink in?”
“That neither one of us are monsters.”
Kylinn put a hand over her mouth, and Tal silently touched her other wrist, projecting her sympathy.
“Oh, Fahla,” Kylinn managed at last. “If I could have that…”
“I can’t guarantee you’ll feel the same way. But if you do…it would be worth it.”
“Great Mother, yes. But—I never really thought they were monsters.”
“Then you’re already ahead of most of us. Are you sure you’re not a templar?”
This time the fleeting smile actually touched her eyes. “No, I’m not a templar. It just seemed so obvious to me. We broke them with love. How can you do that to a monster? Monsters don’t love.”
Tal stared. In all of the many debates she had heard on the topic, no one had ever brought up such a simple—and obvious—piece of logic. Not even Lanaril. “I’m going to remember that,” she said. “You’re absolutely right.”
“But it makes it that much harder. It wouldn’t be so bad if I could tell myself that I only broke monsters.”
“What you did…what we did had to be done. A good friend of mine once told me that sometimes it’s not a question of right and wrong. It’s a question of wrong and more wrong. There was only one way to save ourselves. It feels wrong because it was wrong, but there was no right way. And the alternative was to lose our whole world. You helped save us from that. I only wish the price weren’t so high.”
“Well.” Kylinn drew herself up. “It can’t be any worse, can it? So perhaps I should try to make it better and join the program.”
“There have been a few meetings that didn’t go well,” Tal said. “Make your decision with all the facts. But I don’t think your counselor would have mentioned it to you if he didn’t believe you were a good candidate.”
“He said I was. But I was so terrified by the mere suggestion that I hardly heard him.”
“And yet you came here to talk to me about it.” Tal smiled at her. “Sounds to me as if you’re halfway to a decision already.”
“I might have been halfway before I walked in here. Now it’s about three-quarters.” Kylinn looked past her. “I think I’ve had more of your time than most, and some very nicely dressed people are waiting to speak to you.”
“They can wait if you have any other questions.”
“You’ve answered the most important ones. Thank you, Lancer Tal. I really appreciate that you took the time to speak with me.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you found me.” Tal held up her hand, and though the fear was still in Kylinn’s touch, she thought it might be a little less strong.
The waiting group didn’t take long to dispatch, and right behind them was Eroles.
“That looked like an intense conversation,” Eroles said as she joined her. “With the woman in the blue dress.”
“She’s a veteran.”
“Ah. Is she all right?”
“I hope she will be.”
Eroles met her eyes. “Are you?”
Tal liked Eroles, and these last two days had shown that they could work well together. But they were never going to have this conversation.
“I am, thank you,” she said. “And this has been the best grand opening I’ve ever attended.”
Eroles nodded. “We’re in agreement there. But I think we’ve put in our time as the obligatory dignitaries. If you’re ready to call it a night, I am as well.”
“Then let’s call it.”
CHAPTER 18
Return to Blacksun
“Lancer Tal, we are now on the Blacksun beacon.”
Tal was startled by the voice on the com; she had been deep into a status report on manufacturing the space elevator seed cable.
“Thank you, Thornlan. I appreciate the smooth flight.” She slipped her reader card into its case.
“She’s a good addition to the unit, isn’t she?”
Tal glanced at Micah, who gave every appearance of being asleep in his nearly horizontal seat.
He cocked one eye open and grinned. “Go ahead, you can say it.”
“I have no idea why you’re making such a point of this. I never said she wasn’t qualified.” After Continal’s death in the Battle of Alsea, Tal had been subjected to more pilot tryouts than she could count. First Pilot Thornlan was Micah’s final pick.
“You never said she was, either. And you nearly froze the poor woman when you boarded at the beginning of this trip.” Micah opened his other eye, stretched luxuriously, and pushed the control to transform his bed back into a seat.
“You’re exaggerating as usual. I was merely preoccupied, and since when do Guards require coddling and personal attention?”
“I think you were just a tiny bit disappointed that I didn’t give the seat to Brinkove.”
“I liked Brinkove. He had the top score on the flight challenge, and he didn’t go stiff as a staff when I spoke to him. I found it rather refreshing.”
“What you call refreshing, I call a lack of respect. And getting the top score doesn’t mean he was the best. That boy needs a little time to season properly before I’ll even consider putting your life in his hands. Thornlan was the better choice.”
Tal rolled her eyes. Micah’s overprotectiveness was endearing at times and more than a little frustrating at others. “Then by your own definition you treat me with an appalling lack of respect.”
“I’ve more than earned it.”
“So you say.”
Micah chuckled as he stood. “I’m getting a snack. Do you want something?”
“Not for me, but let me ask Eroles.” Tal stood as well, stretched the kinks out of her back, and walked over to the conference table. “Would you like something to eat before we land?”
Eroles looked up from the blueprints that were spread all over the table. “I’m not sure where I’d put it.”
“Given that we’re on approach to Blacksun, perhaps you should give up working and relax for a few ticks. Besides, I can’t have my Prime Builder working herself into exhaustion.”
She could practically feel Micah’s eyes roll from across the cabin. It was true that she hadn’t been setting much of an example lately, but was that her fault? She couldn’t even get through a vacation without being interrupted by a crisis, and things hadn’t slowed down since.
Eroles began rolling up her blueprints. “You’re right. I’ve done what I can. And I love this part of the flight.”
“So do I. Even if I didn’t have to fly all over for work, I’d do it just for the joy of flying back into Blacksun Basin.”
A few ticks later the three of them were settled into the cushy seats by the windows, watching the snow-covered mountains pass beneath them. The approach to Blacksun was one of the loveliest on the planet, t
hough that was not why the Wandering King chose it for the site of his city. Alsean society had been violent and volatile then, and defensibility was the most important consideration in establishing a holding. Blacksun’s location was perfect in that respect. It sat in an enormous bowl, surrounded on all sides by mountains with only a few narrow and easily defended passes. Any army that managed to get past the mountain defenses would then be exposed on the open valley floor before getting to Blacksun itself, allowing the city defenders plenty of time to cause damage with long-distance artillery. In the time before aerial transports, an invading army could not move heavy artillery through the mountains and was therefore unable to bombard the city from a safe distance. Blacksun had fought off many attempted invasions over the cycles; only one had succeeded. Every Alsean child learned of that battle in school, and Tal loved to imagine it when she flew over the site.
“There’s the Fall of Tears,” Micah said.
Tal nodded, absorbed in the view of the magnificent waterfall, plummeting nearly two thousand paces down a sheer cliff. “I’m so glad we’re coming from this direction. Oh, look at the winden!”
“Blessed Fahla, I’ve never seen them before!” Eroles exclaimed.
The herd of winden dashed down the mountainside as the transport flew overhead, their six-toed feet clinging to every point of rock and giving them a stability and speed unmatched by any other large animal. Between their speed and their subtle coloration, winden weren’t often seen except from the air, and Tal was as thrilled as Eroles at this rare glimpse. She watched them for as long as she could, and when they vanished from sight, she looked ahead just in time to see the last mountain peak float beneath them, opening up the view she loved so well.
The mountains tumbled down to the plains, which no longer housed a single city as in the old days. Blacksun Basin had been farmed for hundreds of generations, and a network of towns both small and large had sprung up in the vast bowl. Most of them clustered along the two rivers that carved through the valley.
Sunlight flashed off the bright thread of the Fahlinor River as their transport followed it north. This was the great river of Blacksun Basin, its enormous volume of water cutting a nearly straight line from the southeast corner of the valley to the northern exit, where it emptied into the largest bay on the continent. Over to the west, the smaller Silverrun River wound its way southeast, then turned northeast, picked up speed, and rushed to join the Fahlinor at Blacksun.
From this side of the transport, they were unable to see the Silverrun as it approached. Tal craned her head, waiting, and smiled when she caught her first glimpse. This was a sight she never tired of: the two rivers coming together, swelling into an unstoppable power that roared to the sea. And right at their junction, in a perfect location for defensibility, transportation of goods, and irrigation of precious crops, was the most magnificent city of them all.
It was possible that she was biased—this was her home, after all. She had grown up here and knew every corner of it. But she had also been all over Alsea, both as a young warrior following a career path and later as Lancer. Whitesun was a vast and bustling port, Redmoon had much to boast of, and Whitemoon was undoubtedly their most beautiful city. But Blacksun was the jewel in the crown.
They flew over the outermost buildings, their bright white domes standing out against the lush green surroundings, and began following one of the main boulevards into the city. Their altitude was low enough now that Tal could see the hive of activity in the streets. Pedestrians jostled for space with rollers, while an occasional privately owned skimmer darted past the larger, slower delivery vehicles. A string of dark cylinders whizzed through the transparent tube which seemed to float above the boulevard, carrying its passengers at a ground speed matching that of Tal’s transport. As she watched, the magtran slowed on approach to a station. Its rearmost cylinder popped off, gliding smoothly into a branching tube that led to the station, while a second cylinder left the station in another access tube and accelerated to match the magtran’s speed. Merging into the main tube, it quickly latched on to the magtran’s front end, the entire exchange having taken perhaps seven pipticks. The magtran resumed speed, gradually outpacing the transport as Thornlan slowed their approach. They were nearing the State Park.
Every population center on the planet, from the great cities down to the smallest village, was built on the same plan: a wheel-and-spoke design with the spokes converging on a central park. No matter how small the village, its park always housed a temple and sometimes a caste house or two.
Blacksun’s State Park was unrivaled. Situated on the west bank of the Fahlinor River, it was a village-sized sweep of forest, manicured lawns, and landscaping so glorious that producers the world over made pilgrimages to Blacksun just to see the park.
All six caste houses ringed the park, each capped with the color of its caste flag. For the warriors, it was crimson red. The scholar house had a dark blue cap; for the builders it was sky blue. The merchant house bore a purple cap, the producers a dark green one, and the crafters, who always had to be different, decorated their flag and caste house with a distinctive three-striped pattern of blue, gold, and green. According to legend, the original crafters choosing their design were unable to agree on just one color. Based on the crafters she knew, Tal believed it.
Near the center of the park stood Blacksun Temple, a spectacular, soaring edifice, dwarfing every building in the city but one. Like all temples, it was black due to the unique rock used in its construction—and disallowed for any other Alsean buildings. The rock naturally glowed with a soft blue-white light at night, and with the aid of any light from Alsea’s two moons, its glow became a beacon visible for many lengths. Full moons were, of course, the best of all. In times past, the temples were used as navigation aids; today this characteristic was simply appreciated for its beauty. And while Tal was not ordinarily one to visit a temple—she preferred to make her connection with Fahla outdoors—she still loved to see the building glowing on a full moon night.
Sharing the center with the temple, but still half a length away, was the State House of Alsea. The largest building in Blacksun, its great main dome reached fifteen stories high, while four smaller domes surrounded it. Each was encircled with two bands of color, one crimson and one a deep blue, representing the two castes capable of producing a Lancer. When Tal was a child, her father took her there for a tour, pointing out the color bands and telling her that she bore both of those castes in her heart. He had her future planned from the very beginning. Now she watched the sunlight flash off a familiar set of windows at the top and thought that her father would have enjoyed her personal quarters more than she did. The view from those windows was second to none, but she had to wade through far too many people to get there, and every one of them wanted something.
As they flew over the wall encircling the State House grounds, the view out the window shifted down, up, and down again before leveling out—Thornlan had just performed the wing salute signifying that the Lancer had returned to Blacksun. A tick later they were hovering above the landing pad, and a slight jar beneath Tal’s feet told her that the ground thrusters were firing. Slowly, the transport sank downward and settled on the pad with hardly a vibration. An experienced pilot herself, Tal knew that the skill required in landing such a large transport so quietly was impressive indeed. Unfortunately, her smile of appreciation was witnessed by the worst possible audience.
“Told you,” Micah said.
Eroles looked over. “Am I missing something?”
“Colonel Micah was just commenting on our new pilot,” Tal said.
“Ah. Thornlan, wasn’t it? Very smooth, I have to say. Give her my compliments.”
Micah’s smugness was almost audible.
Once Eroles had disembarked, they lifted off and flew another twenty ticks to Blacksun Base. The long-distance transport was housed there due to its size, and Tal planned to spend a few d
ays catching up on caste duties.
Thornlan’s second landing was just as smooth as the first. As Tal rose and shouldered her bag, Micah asked, “Are you going to pass on those compliments?”
She bumped him with her hip. “Out of my way. I have a hot shower calling my name, and you’re keeping me from it.”
Micah chuckled, picking up his own bag and walking ahead of her toward the cabin door. Instead of following him, she turned right, walked the few steps down the short corridor, and poked her head into the pilot’s cabin. Genra Thornlan sat in the pilot’s seat, checking a reader card in her hand.
“First Pilot Thornlan,” said Tal sternly.
“Lancer Tal!” Thornlan leaped out of her chair, a maneuver cut short by the safety harness she hadn’t yet unhooked. She quickly unlatched it and stood up, looking straight ahead while a deep blush suffused her face.
“Settle.” Tal smiled as the younger woman eased her posture by the tiniest hair. Yes, Micah was proud of this one. She rested a hand on Thornlan’s shoulder, startling her into meeting her eyes.
“That was an excellent landing. You’re a good addition to the unit,” she said, and felt an enormous swell of surprise and pride which the pilot was incapable of fronting.
“Thank you, Lancer.” Thornlan couldn’t maintain her gaze, shifting back into the rigid stance that had been trained into her from the moment she had chosen her caste.
Tal squeezed her shoulder once before letting go. “No need to thank me for stating the truth.” She turned and saw Micah’s grinning face in the doorway. With a steely glare, she pushed him in front of her and whispered, “Shut up.”