“Are you all right, Granddad?” Adrienne Rolfe said.
“I’m nearly eighty years old; of course I’m not all right,” her elder said, mock grumbling. “All right, you do it.”
She tilted the frosted pitcher, pouring for him first, and offered him the plate of pastries.
Girl has good manners, when she’s not being deliberately provocative, he thought. And even at her worst, she usually doesn’t do that to me.
That was one of the advantages of being a grandparent as opposed to fatherhood. Although… come to think of it, my kids didn’t sass me much either. Possibly I was too hard on them?
The tart-sweet taste of the fresh-squeezed lemons went well with the strong scent of the roses that hung in tight red clusters above, and he sipped again as he looked at the statue of Diana and her hunting dogs that stood on a plinth between him and the water. It was ancient, a little time-blurred, but the bronze was whole—a bright graceful thing of elongated limbs and prancing greyhounds and a lovely face whose smile was utterly enigmatic. New Virginian ships had brought it back from an Athens where the Parthenon was still whole and whose temples still saw sacrifices to the Olympian gods—albeit they included the deified Alexander, identified with Zeus. He’d never been able to get away long enough to visit himself, but he’d seen photographs and films and digital video.
And if I keep rationing myself, the scrolls will last my lifetime. Classical literature survived here intact, not the few shards and fragments that FirstSide history had. Cities had burned here in this world’s history as states rose and fell, but never to the point of a real dark age.
For one thing, the Hellenes just got too big for every copy of anything important to vanish. For another, they did invent printing and paper, at least, if not gunpowder or positional arithmetic. It had been worth the effort of relearning a command of ancient Greek worn to rusty fragments, worth it a thousand times over.
“Thank you,” he said to the young woman. “Now some details on the trip, if you please, miss.”
“Well, the trip from Virginia City to Fort Chumley was pretty routine,” she said.
That was the easternmost outpost of New Virginia, roughly on the site of Denver. It was still a tiny struggling thing, useful mostly as a trading post with the Indians and for hunting trips of the type his granddaughter had just taken. Eventually much more: It would be the jumping-off point for Breckenridge and Victor, Cripple Creek and Leadville. In time a city and the center of a new zone of settlement along the Front Range and eastward along the rivers; but that was for his grandchildren’s children.
He bent his attention back to the girl’s account, enjoying her bubbling good spirits.
“Spectacular scenery along the way, of course; we stopped at the Great Salt Lake, and I bagged a near-record bighorn head in the mountains. We went south along the foothills from there, and I got a really nice lion in the San Luis valley—ten feet if it was an inch. They’re thick as fleas there by now—that book was right; there was an open ecological niche for something big enough to tackle an adult bison. Then we spent some time around the Pueblo country. They weren’t what you’d call very friendly, but it was fascinating, and they wanted our trade goods very badly. We saw some of the dances, and I collected some interesting handicraft work. No problem getting more horses there, either. Jim Simmons did an excellent job of ramrodding the outfit, too, even if you did think he was young for it.”
“Ah.” He nodded in satisfaction. “I knew his grandfather and father, and the lad shapes well.”
“Cute, too,” Adrienne said.
“I wouldn’t notice,” her grandfather said dryly, then went on seriously: “Good to see the Scouts keeping up their standards. They’re a big reason the wild tribes usually know better than to attack New Virginians passing through, even that far east. Then?”
“Then we moved on down the Rio Grande. The farming villages there collapsed after the plagues, just a scattering of wild hunters left, and they are really wild—we didn’t see much of them, though, just a couple of tries at our horse lines. What we did see was nearly a dozen rhino.”
They’re spreading fast, he thought. Well, my hobby is going to affect this world for a long time to come.
“Wish I could go on a safari of my own, but there’s nothing more ridiculous than an old man playing youngster.”
“You’ll last forever,” she said, and sounded as if she meant it.
Rolfe harrumphed. Flattering, my dear, but not likely. The old wound in his leg ached more every year, along with everything else. His hair was still thick, but snow white now; he had the same belt measurement that he’d had the first time through the Gate, and thank God his mind was clear as ever, but he could feel the teeth gnawing in every joint pain and his shortness of breath and the way he tired so quickly, and in the way his early memories seemed more solid and real than yesterday. Another decade at most, if he was very lucky.
“Or maybe not forever,” she went on, her leaf-green eyes innocent. “Which is why I’m going to nag you about getting into Gate Security again, so Dad can’t tell me it’s unsuitable and make it stick. I owe the Commonwealth two years, and that’s where I think I could do the most good, not doing data entry for the Commission.”
“And Gate Security would mean you could spend more time FirstSide, and take university courses there—”
“Stanford. UNV just doesn’t have all the facilities that the best FirstSide schools do yet.”
“—and avoid your mother’s nagging you to get married right away. After that embarrassing little incident particularly.”
“She can relax. I want children eventually,” she said defensively. “I just don’t want to settle down and start making babies right away. I want to see things and do something important.”
“Reproduction is generally considered of some significance,” he said dryly, and then raised a hand. “I see your point, my dear. It’s scarcely women’s work, though.”
“FirstSide—”
“This isn’t FirstSide, thank God,” he said, and waited out her expostulations. An evil grin split his seamed, ancient-eagle countenance. “But on the other hand, what’s the point of setting up a system of hereditary privilege if you can’t get special favors for your grandchildren? All right.”
She leaped up and hugged him enthusiastically.
“Spare my antique bones!” he said. “I’ll tell Colonel Throckham tomorrow. But”—he extended a finger—“you get a chance at field operative work. If you can handle the training and the discipline; I know you’re smart enough, I think you’re strong enough, and you’re not squeamish, but I have my doubts about your ability to take orders. I’m not going to put a finger on the scales where it’ll get you killed, or endanger other Gate Security personnel. Dulce et decorum est, pro patria mora, but not pro wellborn idiot mora. Not while I’m in charge. Understand?”
“Of course, Granddad.” She glowed at him. “And I’ll make you proud of me. I swear I will.”