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of 183) [5/21/03 12:38:21 AM]
file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Legacy.txt testimony. "However,
there is no evidence linking anyone other than boatloads of renegades who may
or may not be Brionists, and the only immediate witness to that effect is Ser
Larisa Strik-
Cachemou, and perhaps this Kimon Giorgios, if he can be found. I understand
that Ser Olmy took part in the skirmish with the Brionist flatboats, and
helped to save most of the children from the boat that sank. We express our
gratitude to you, Ser Olmy. You are free to go, but we request you stay in
Calcutta and make yourself available for further testimony, until we release
you of that obligation. We have to report to Athenai and Jakarta by radio. We
are damnably spread out on this planet, as a bureaucracy." She sniffed.
Larisa had fixed her gaze on me for some minutes now.
"I think," du Chamet said, "that we're going to have to become much more
efficient soon.
This is the ninth such raid on Elizabeth's Land, and by far the worst,
although the first in our district. The north coast towns have been taking the
brunt. They are more accessible than towns and villages along the Terra Nova."
Sulamit Faye-Chinmoi concluded: "For the first time, we have a number of
prisoners to use in negotiations. I don't know what good they'll do us, but if
Brion's General Beys is in desperate need of children, how much more desperate
will he be for trained soldiers?"
"Who will protest to the Brionists?" Thomas asked.
The citizens rank glanced at each other, then du Chamet said, "I'll report to
the district administer through the mayor's radio. We'll ship the prisoners to
Athenai tomorrow."
Thomas followed me to the bottom of the steps and the main street leading from
the river to west Calcutta. I saw tall poles in the direction of the river,
rising between a gap in a row of shops. Yards and rigging crossed the poles --
masts, I realized. Sailing ships in the main harbor.
A fair number of them, judging by the number of masts. That was where I would
meet Randall. For some reason not clear to me -- a kind of instinct -- I did
not want to explain all this to Thomas.
"Where to now, Ser Olmy?" he asked.
"I'm supposed to stay here," I said. "That was my impression..."
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Thomas closed one eye and smoothed his crown's short-cut stubble with a thick,
strong hand.
"But what will you _do_ here?"
"When I'm free, continue with my studies."
"You _will_ wait?" Thomas seemed doubtful. "You won't just vanish back into
the silva?"
"I don't seem to satisfy you, Ser Thomas. Not that you're alone. My poor
mother had higher hopes for me."
Thomas acknowledged the shadow wit with a nod and a small smile. "My mother
wanted me to be a farmer. I preferred keeping an eye on people, making sure
they were all right. Well, I haven't done much of that recently. In truth, Ser
Olmy, you've shown more courage than I have." Thomas straightened and clasped
his hands in front of him, stretched his arms and shrugged his shoulders.
"Cause no harm, eh, Ser Olmy? That's what I ask of you while you're here."
I smiled and held out my hand. Perhaps because of his suspicions, I liked
Thomas. He reminded me of instructors I had had in Defense School. He took my
hand and shook it firmly.
"No harm," I said.
Thomas stared after me as I walked away. When I had gone half a dozen meters,
he said, voice raised only slightly, "You are not what you say you are, Ser
Olmy. I don't know what your purpose is, but I hope to,"
I wanted to see more of Calcutta before I met up again with Randall. I doubted
that I would get lost in bright daylight. I strode down the stone-paved
streets, walking north between shops and the blank fronts of houses painted
white and light gray and yellow, smelling the dust and pervasive odor of
lizboo like dry dusty ginger. I walked beside a long straight road flanked by
freestanding houses, well-maintained frame structures whose porches and decks
had been allowed to weather to a natural wheaten color, the black edges and
stoma-marks of lizboo exterior layers inlaid in simple floral patterns.
No street signs were evident, and no maps; Calcutta was not built for
strangers. I ate lunch in a small, dark restaurant at the end of the main
north-south street. The cook and waiter, a thin young woman who kept her gaze
on the brightness of the single small window, described the menu to me: three
kinds of grain bread they had baked that morning, Liz cherries and hookvine
paste -- both from epidendrids, forms _aclenophora_ and _ampelopsis -- _and
fried flockweed patties. I ordered patties and bread and a single Liz cherry.
She looked at my ticket for a long moment, frowned, and walked off to get my
food.
The bread was chewy, like sponge, but tasted good. The Liz cherry was
extremely tart with the characteristic bitter undertaste of all phytid fruit.
Some phytids created nutritional packets for mobile scions on long journeys,
and these were generally what passed as fruit in Elizabeth's zone. Liz
cherries were one of the most common. They were not highly nutritious, but
contained file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Legacy.txt (46 of 183)
[5/21/03 12:38:21 AM]
file:///F|/rah/Greg%20Bear/Bear,%20Greg%20-%20Legacy.txt usable sugars, some
vitamins, and few allergens or toxins.
After eating, I stopped by a small park overlooking the river and sat on a
stone bench. I
took out Nkwanno's slate and returned to a history of the years just after the
Crossing.
"_Among some who came with Lenk to Lamarckia,_" the history continued, _a
substantial conspiracy arose. Where it began, and how large it was when it
began, is not known; but it is assumed it began in Thistledown, and there were
eventually several hundred of the conspirators who joined Lenk's secret
expedition. They regarded Lamarckia as an opportunity all their own. They
would follow Lenk, they would pretend fealty, but they had their own plans and
goals._
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_Upon arriving in Lamarckia, this conspiracy had no strength. Its parts and
individuals could not agree on specific goals. Lamarckia, they thought, would
be theirs, but_ which _of the splinters would grow the new tree, none could
decide. What was decided almost from the beginning, apparently, was Lenk's
unsuitability to rule._
Yet within a few years of the Crossing, most of the splinters gave up their
grand plans, discouraged by the extreme difficulty of maintaining conspiracies
within a grander and much-
divided conspiracy.
The last of the splinters, and the most persistent, was the most hidden and
thoroughly disguised. For there soon arose a faction that had no Naderite
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zanotowane.pldoc.pisz.plpdf.pisz.plcs-sysunia.htw.pl
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