She smiled and nodded, and Rick wondered if she believed him. After all, she'd never seen a recording device, and describing one wasn't the same as showing it- Nothing he could do about that.
They went inside. The compartment was nearly bare. Rick looked closely. There were stains on the deck in one corner. This was the same ship that had brought them to Tran, no doubt about that.
In one corner of the compartment there were two piles of Japanese futons. On top of one of the piles was a package wrapped in brightly printed paper and tied with a scarlet bow. Tylara stared at it. The paper was printed with replicas of famous miniature portraits.
"It is lovely," she said. "I have not seen-"
"Ah, my lady, it is a gift for you." This time Les used his own voice, rather than the impersonal computer-generated one he'd used earlier. "Now, please be seated-"
Rick pushed the two piles of futons together and flopped into one of them. Tylara gingerly sat beside him. She clutched the package tightly.
"Will you not open it?" Les asked.
"I-it is so beautiful-"
"Let me, sweetheart," Rick said. He took the package and carefully worked the bow so that it came off without damaging it. Tylara took it and held it experimentally to her hair. The ends of the package were sealed with Scotch tape. Rick took out his pocket knife and slit the tape so that he could remove the printed paper without tearing it. Tylara watched nervously.
"I should have brought more wrapping paper," Les said. "I think I have some picture books. You can have those."
"Thank you," Tylara said. She sounded sincere. The box contained a bracelet and necklace of Navajo turquoise and silver, elaborately gaudy. Tylara gasped with pleasure. "Marvelous!" she exclaimed. She put on the bracelet and admired it on her arm. "There is nothing like it in all of Tamaerthon. Or Drantos."
That's for sure, Rick thought. But of course she'd like it.
They settled onto the futons. "Thank you," Tylara said.
A screen in the forward part of the compartment suddenly came to life. It showed Les in his command chair on the ship's semi-darkened bridge. "There's something for you, too, Colonel," Les said. "Under your cushions there-"
Rick felt under the pile and found a wooden box, not wrapped. Inside was a bottle of Talisker Scotch and four crystal glasses packed in Styrofoam worms. There was also a bottle of Campari.
"Have a drink with me?" Les asked. "Sorry I can't invite you up to the bridge. 'Thees starship ees going to Havana, Seсor,' with those minigrenades to make the point-well, the idea doesn't quite appeal to me."
"I don't suppose it would," Rick said. He tried to keep his voice calm. The grenades in his pockets suddenly seemed five times their size and weight.
"My lady might prefer Campari," Les said.
"Fat chance," Rick muttered. "She's had Scotch." He opened the Talisker and poured for himself and Tylara.
Les turned to face the screen and lifted his own glass. "Cheers, then," he said.
"Cheers," Rick said. Tylara muttered something. They both drank.
Tylara grimaced slightly at the taste. Rick frowned a question at her.
"I recall the previous time," she said. "I was pleased with your strong-whisky. But-"
But you'd just been raped by Sarakos, Rick thought. And this reminds you. Yeah. I should have insisted you have Campari.
"Ready?" Les asked.
"Yes," Rick said.
A moment later they were pressed into the futons.
The screen blurred, then showed the ground falling away. Tylara gasped and moved closer to him. The ship rose, and then they were high enough to see Castle Armagh with its blaze of bonfires. She shivered slightly.
"You ain't seen nothin' yet," Rick whispered. "We're no higher than-than the highest mountains." He'd almost mentioned Larry Warner and the balloon, but there was no point in telling the ship's recorders about that.
The ship began to move, and Armagh slipped off the edge of the screen. The Firestealer gave enough light to recognize the major terrain features. They were going west, following the main road to Castle Dravan.
Coincidence or design? Rick wondered. After all, when they first came to Tran they'd been set down not far from Dravan, and this was the main road west…
Tylara pointed and looked afraid. "The children," she whispered.
Yeah. Our kids are down there- He pointed and nodded. "Yes, I think you're right, that's where we established the orphanages," he said. "Not too far from where the ship first set us down. Les, are we sightseeing?"
"Maybe a little," Les said. "Do you mind?"
"Not at all. Except if you go much farther west I'd appreciate it if the ship isn't seen. Our army's out there somewhere. They just won a big battle with Westmen-those are nomads from the high plains above the big escarpment. The Westmen already think there was too much wizardry for it to have been a fair fight."
"So if they see the ship, they might think it's impossible to make an honorable peace, so they may as well die fighting?"
"Something like that, yeah."
"No problem," Les said.
The lights below shrank rapidly, and now there were clouds below them. After a few moments the screen changed, zooming in on the plains below. They passed the Littlescarp, and the scene on the screen changed rapidly, as if the camera were searching the high plains. Then it stabilized on camp fires, and zoomed in again.
Tylara stirred. "That is the host of Drantos," she said wonderingly. There was terror in her eyes. She started to speak, but Rick pulled her to him and kissed her.
She looked startled for a moment, then nodded understanding.
I know, my darling, Rick thought. There is our army, the most powerful force you've ever seen, down there below like toy soldiers, down there where it would be like child's play to throw skyfire at them. But don't say it, don't even think it too loud- "How does Yatar rule those with such power?"
She asked softly. "Or-does Yatar rule the sky-folk?" Rick shook his head. "I don't know," he said softly.
Not even if you translate the question into modern theology. Is there a God? Is there any reason for ethics? Does the universe care one lick whether people are decent or beastly to one another?
"He rules your heart, my love," Tylara whispered. "And that is enough for me."
The screen brightened, then changed to a map of the eastern part of the settled region of Tran. At least this settled region, Rick told himself. He'd never learned just how far west this continent was inhabited, or whether the other continent was inhabited at all.
The map stretched from Rome to the Westscarp, and as Rick watched, a numbered grid superimposed itself. "If you wouldn't mind," Les said. "It would be well to get on with our cargo collection."
That would be for the recorders. There'd be damned little cargo at the University, but Rick thought Les must have a way to deal with that. More interesting was how he carefully didn't mention Gwen in the hearing of the ship…
The ship settled into the hills above the University. Les sent Rick and Tylara out, then joined them a few moments later. He was carrying his suitcase and the control box. The ship whined and rose into the dawning sky.
"Well, here we are," Les said. "What's down there?"
"My University," Rick said. "Gwen is the Rector." Les whistled in exaggerated respect. "Oh-ho. Well, we'd best get on with it. Looks like a long walk. Should have set the ship down closer."
Tylara chuckled. "Captain," she said, "one might almost doubt your love for the Lady Gwen. You complain of a few stadia we must walk. What of the tales of lovers who would swim boiling seas or walk ten thousand leagues to join their ladies?" -
There was a pause long enough to worry Rick. Then Les laughed. "They may have had more difficult journeys," he said. "But none of them ever had a longer one."