brethren got out? Ground-effect vehicles made those. They leave a pretty obvious trail in the snow.” He went on to explain how the machines worked. Marika had no trouble grasping the concept.
“There is much I do not yet know, then,” she said.
“No doubt. There is much we all do not know. Let me give you some advice. Try to consider the broader picture before you let impulse carry you away again.”
“What?”
“There is a great deal of tension between the Brown Paw Bond and the Reugge right now. Our factors not only refused to help reclaim the provinces overrun by the nomad, they would not lease the fighting aircraft the Reugge wanted. I do not pretend to understand why. It was a chance for us to sweep up a huge profit.”
“I see.” Marika considered the fighting aircraft once more. It was a two-seat, open cockpit biplane with two guns that fired through the airscrew, four wing-mounted guns, and a single gimbal-mounted weapon which could be fired rearward by the occupant of the second seat. “I would love to fly one of those,” she said. The tapes mentioned capabilities that could be matched by no darkship.
“It is an experience,” Bagnel agreed.
“You fly?”
“Yes. If there was trouble and the aircraft had to be employed, I would be a backup flyer.”
“Take me up.”
“Marika!” Grauel snapped.
Bagnel was amused. “There is no limit to her audacity, is there?”
“Marika,” Grauel repeated, “you exceed yourself. You may be silth, but even so we will drag you back to the cloister.”
“Not today, Marika,” Bagnel said. “I cannot. Maybe some other time. Come back later. Be polite at the gate, ask for me, and maybe you will be permitted entrance — without all this fuss. Right now I think you had better leave before Timbruk goes over my head and gets permission to shoot you anyhow.” Bagnel strode toward the gateway buildings. Marika followed. She was nervous now. There would be trouble when she got home.
Bagnel said, “I do not think your sisters would be upset if Timbruk did you in either. You still have that smoky look. Of the fated outsider.”
“I have problems with the silth,” Marika admitted. “But the most senior has given me her protection.”
“Oh? Lucky for you.”
They parted at the gate, Bagnel with a well-wish and repeated invitation to return under more auspicious circumstances.
Outside, Marika paused to scan the field, watched Bagnel stride purposefully toward distant buildings. Her gaze drifted to those structures in the north. Cold crept down her spine. She shivered.
“Come. We are returning to the cloister right now,” Grauel said. Her tone brooked no argument. Marika did not protest, though she did not want to go back. She did have to cling to the goodwill of Grauel and Barlog. They were her only trustworthy allies.
Chapter Seventeen
I
Marika went from the gate to her tower, where she sat staring toward the tradermale compound. Several dots soared above the enclave, roaming the sky nearby.
Grauel came to her there. She looked grim. “Trouble,” she said.
“They have registered their protest already? That was fast.”
“Not that kind of trouble. Home trouble. Somebody got into our quarters.”
“Oh?”
“After we turned in the weapons they gave us, we went up to clean up. My rifle was gone.”
“Anything else?”
“No. The Degnan Chronicle had been opened and moved slightly. That is all.”
“The most senior should spend more time here instead of talking about spending more time here.”
Marika had noted that in Gradwohl’s absence she was treated far more coolly. She wished that most senior would move into Maksche in fact as well as name. Despite declarations of intent, she just visited occasionally, usually without warning.
“I will not tolerate invasions of my private space, Grauel. No one else in the entire Community has to suffer such intrusions. Back off and give me a few minutes of quiet.”
She slipped down
“There is much I do not yet know, then,” she said.
“No doubt. There is much we all do not know. Let me give you some advice. Try to consider the broader picture before you let impulse carry you away again.”
“What?”
“There is a great deal of tension between the Brown Paw Bond and the Reugge right now. Our factors not only refused to help reclaim the provinces overrun by the nomad, they would not lease the fighting aircraft the Reugge wanted. I do not pretend to understand why. It was a chance for us to sweep up a huge profit.”
“I see.” Marika considered the fighting aircraft once more. It was a two-seat, open cockpit biplane with two guns that fired through the airscrew, four wing-mounted guns, and a single gimbal-mounted weapon which could be fired rearward by the occupant of the second seat. “I would love to fly one of those,” she said. The tapes mentioned capabilities that could be matched by no darkship.
“It is an experience,” Bagnel agreed.
“You fly?”
“Yes. If there was trouble and the aircraft had to be employed, I would be a backup flyer.”
“Take me up.”
“Marika!” Grauel snapped.
Bagnel was amused. “There is no limit to her audacity, is there?”
“Marika,” Grauel repeated, “you exceed yourself. You may be silth, but even so we will drag you back to the cloister.”
“Not today, Marika,” Bagnel said. “I cannot. Maybe some other time. Come back later. Be polite at the gate, ask for me, and maybe you will be permitted entrance — without all this fuss. Right now I think you had better leave before Timbruk goes over my head and gets permission to shoot you anyhow.” Bagnel strode toward the gateway buildings. Marika followed. She was nervous now. There would be trouble when she got home.
Bagnel said, “I do not think your sisters would be upset if Timbruk did you in either. You still have that smoky look. Of the fated outsider.”
“I have problems with the silth,” Marika admitted. “But the most senior has given me her protection.”
“Oh? Lucky for you.”
They parted at the gate, Bagnel with a well-wish and repeated invitation to return under more auspicious circumstances.
Outside, Marika paused to scan the field, watched Bagnel stride purposefully toward distant buildings. Her gaze drifted to those structures in the north. Cold crept down her spine. She shivered.
“Come. We are returning to the cloister right now,” Grauel said. Her tone brooked no argument. Marika did not protest, though she did not want to go back. She did have to cling to the goodwill of Grauel and Barlog. They were her only trustworthy allies.
Chapter Seventeen
I
Marika went from the gate to her tower, where she sat staring toward the tradermale compound. Several dots soared above the enclave, roaming the sky nearby.
Grauel came to her there. She looked grim. “Trouble,” she said.
“They have registered their protest already? That was fast.”
“Not that kind of trouble. Home trouble. Somebody got into our quarters.”
“Oh?”
“After we turned in the weapons they gave us, we went up to clean up. My rifle was gone.”
“Anything else?”
“No. The Degnan Chronicle had been opened and moved slightly. That is all.”
“The most senior should spend more time here instead of talking about spending more time here.”
Marika had noted that in Gradwohl’s absence she was treated far more coolly. She wished that most senior would move into Maksche in fact as well as name. Despite declarations of intent, she just visited occasionally, usually without warning.
“I will not tolerate invasions of my private space, Grauel. No one else in the entire Community has to suffer such intrusions. Back off and give me a few minutes of quiet.”
She slipped down
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