Read Online Vectors by Charles Sheffield - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Charles Sheffield
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that's something I can't change."
"But I've got no money, and nowhere to stay. I'll freeze to death, or starve."
The older man laughed. "We're not quite that barbaric here, you know. In Redman's name, what do you take us for? Mr. Nielsen asked me to keep an eye out for you, and you're to stay at the Church Hostel. It's about a mile from here, on the road past the big square. And here's a food voucher for you, compliments of Lukon. If I were you, I'd spend my time worrying about what they'll be saying to you when you get back there. Mr. Nielsen says it's the first time they've lost a boy in fifty visits to the Science Museum. How come you got separated from the rest?"
"I'm doing a special report on hydroelectric power for a school project. They left me off in the power section when the rest of them went on to the biology exhibits." Carl took the food voucher and slipped it into a pocket of his greatcoat. "That report was Mr. Nielsen's idea, anyway."
The attendant shrugged. "Mix-up somewhere, that's for sure. You'd better get over to the Hostel now, while it's not too cold. There's supposed to be a thaw tonight, but I don't feel any signs of it yet. Here, I'll point you the way."
Carl walked over the crackling, blackened ice that formed a mottled crust on the main street of Lukon. Old ice, proof of the long freeze. On either side the houses were stone-built and small, crouching back from the road and closed against the night. As he approached the main square he saw the first signs of activity. A crowd of men had gathered on the central, stone-flagged forum, where two priests of Redman stood by a dark, glistening heap. A white-haired man in a heavy robe was standing, head bowed, between them.
Carl's way to the Hostel was blocked, and he was curious to find out what was going on. He approached the edge of the crowd and moved beside a short, hooded figure who was a little to the rear of the rest of the group.
"What are they doing there?" he asked. "Has there been an accident?"
The cowled figure turned to him. It was a woman in her mid-twenties, with dark, straight hair cut low across her forehead. There was not enough light for him to make out the color of her eyes in the depths of her hood. She smiled at him bitterly.
"You must be even younger than you look. Haven't you ever seen a burning before?"
He looked at the priests and the frail figure between them. His face mirrored his confusion. "No, I've never heard of such a thing. You don't mean they are going to burn the old man?"
The woman put her head back and laughed, this time with genuine amusement. "We haven't come quite to that, yet, even here. It's a book burning—see the heap there, covered in kerosene? Those are books, forbidden texts that the Church of Redman has banned. The old man's 'crime' was keeping them in his library." Her tone was scornful and reckless. "Listen to that crowd of mindless fools."
Carl only half-heard the jeers and taunts of the crowd as the priest placed a torch in the hand of the old man and led him forward, white head shaking, to ignite the soaked pile. He took the woman by the sleeve of her robe.
"What are these forbidden books about? Why are they forbidden?"
"Science. The forbidden sciences." The woman looked at Carl again, noted his intensity, and swiftly looked around her. "This is no place to talk about it, though. I've already said too much. This crowd will be full of Church observers, watching for people talking as we are." Her eyes took on a flickering, reddish-brown reflection as the flames in the square blazed higher. "Look, if you really want to talk more about this, meet me tomorrow at noon, in the Artisans' restaurant. No more talk now. Get out of here—it's not safe to be at a burning unless you are willing to mock men like Wilhelm the librarian there."
She turned quickly and pushed through the thin edge of the crowd. Carl looked after her, then turned again to the scene by the fire. The old man was being led away,
"But I've got no money, and nowhere to stay. I'll freeze to death, or starve."
The older man laughed. "We're not quite that barbaric here, you know. In Redman's name, what do you take us for? Mr. Nielsen asked me to keep an eye out for you, and you're to stay at the Church Hostel. It's about a mile from here, on the road past the big square. And here's a food voucher for you, compliments of Lukon. If I were you, I'd spend my time worrying about what they'll be saying to you when you get back there. Mr. Nielsen says it's the first time they've lost a boy in fifty visits to the Science Museum. How come you got separated from the rest?"
"I'm doing a special report on hydroelectric power for a school project. They left me off in the power section when the rest of them went on to the biology exhibits." Carl took the food voucher and slipped it into a pocket of his greatcoat. "That report was Mr. Nielsen's idea, anyway."
The attendant shrugged. "Mix-up somewhere, that's for sure. You'd better get over to the Hostel now, while it's not too cold. There's supposed to be a thaw tonight, but I don't feel any signs of it yet. Here, I'll point you the way."
Carl walked over the crackling, blackened ice that formed a mottled crust on the main street of Lukon. Old ice, proof of the long freeze. On either side the houses were stone-built and small, crouching back from the road and closed against the night. As he approached the main square he saw the first signs of activity. A crowd of men had gathered on the central, stone-flagged forum, where two priests of Redman stood by a dark, glistening heap. A white-haired man in a heavy robe was standing, head bowed, between them.
Carl's way to the Hostel was blocked, and he was curious to find out what was going on. He approached the edge of the crowd and moved beside a short, hooded figure who was a little to the rear of the rest of the group.
"What are they doing there?" he asked. "Has there been an accident?"
The cowled figure turned to him. It was a woman in her mid-twenties, with dark, straight hair cut low across her forehead. There was not enough light for him to make out the color of her eyes in the depths of her hood. She smiled at him bitterly.
"You must be even younger than you look. Haven't you ever seen a burning before?"
He looked at the priests and the frail figure between them. His face mirrored his confusion. "No, I've never heard of such a thing. You don't mean they are going to burn the old man?"
The woman put her head back and laughed, this time with genuine amusement. "We haven't come quite to that, yet, even here. It's a book burning—see the heap there, covered in kerosene? Those are books, forbidden texts that the Church of Redman has banned. The old man's 'crime' was keeping them in his library." Her tone was scornful and reckless. "Listen to that crowd of mindless fools."
Carl only half-heard the jeers and taunts of the crowd as the priest placed a torch in the hand of the old man and led him forward, white head shaking, to ignite the soaked pile. He took the woman by the sleeve of her robe.
"What are these forbidden books about? Why are they forbidden?"
"Science. The forbidden sciences." The woman looked at Carl again, noted his intensity, and swiftly looked around her. "This is no place to talk about it, though. I've already said too much. This crowd will be full of Church observers, watching for people talking as we are." Her eyes took on a flickering, reddish-brown reflection as the flames in the square blazed higher. "Look, if you really want to talk more about this, meet me tomorrow at noon, in the Artisans' restaurant. No more talk now. Get out of here—it's not safe to be at a burning unless you are willing to mock men like Wilhelm the librarian there."
She turned quickly and pushed through the thin edge of the crowd. Carl looked after her, then turned again to the scene by the fire. The old man was being led away,
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