“I don't, either,” commented Lady Haze.
Lord Hollingsworth mumbled, “Never hurt any when I did see them, either."
“Furthermore,” Geste went on, “even when we haven't killed them or messed up their lives directly, we've done it indirectly, just by being here and allowing ourselves to be seen."
“If you're talking about messing up lives, Geste…” Starflower began.
He held up a hand. “I know, I know, I've been guilty of plenty of interference myself-not up to your level, Starflower, but enough. No, too much. But let me finish. To these people, we're practically gods. They call us the Powers-you all know that. They credit Lady Sheila with controlling the weather and bringing the seasons; did you know that? Did you know that the Nymph is considered the goddess of erotic love? That Gold is lord of the underworld? That Sunlight is responsible for every flower that ever blooms? And Starflower here, who correctly admonishes me for my pranks, has been actively accepting their worship. We have completely screwed up the culture these people had when we arrived by allowing them to misinterpret us like this!"
“We didn't ask for this,” Starflower retorted.
“It's none of our business,” Lady Haze added.
“But it is our business, and at least one of us, Starflower, did ask for it-or do you claim that you never encouraged those ceremonies honoring you? We are responsible,” Geste insisted. “When we came here, we took a vote on whether or not to introduce modern technology to these people, whether to make any of them immortal or establish interstellar commerce, and we voted not to do any of that. Why? Because we had no right to interfere in their culture-that was what we said. Do you remember that?"
He glared around at them all, then continued, “That was what we said, but what we meant was that it wasn't our problem, that it was more fun to play demi-god and not worry about the poor savages. We interfered in their culture anyway. Hell, we didn't just interfere, we practically ruined it. We played God all over the place-and I was as bad as almost any of you, I admit it. We played at being gods while we preached noninterference. It's time to stop, now. It's gotten serious. One of us went berserk and killed hundreds of innocent people, and of all the rest of us, only three did anything-and even those three only got involved when Thaddeus threatened other immortals. He could have gone on killing people forever if he hadn't started interfering with us, couldn't he?"
He paused, and several people shifted uncomfortably. The Skyler's expression shifted from self-satisfaction, as she heard herself included in those who had helped, to uncertainty as she remembered how she had backed out toward the end.
“Well, it's time to stop the fun and games, people. Imp and Aulden and Sheila and I intend to take Mother and go back home, to get Thaddeus some psychological repair work-repairs that should have been done centuries ago, but which nobody wanted to get involved in. And when we get there, we're going to tell whatever authorities are concerned with this sort of thing that there's a planet here full of short-lifers who deserve better, and we're going to see that a proper development company is sent out here to Denner's Wreck to clean up our mess. Now, the rules of this little organization say that we need a majority vote to leave. We intend to get that majority vote right here and now, one way or the other."
The Skyler asked, “Do you expect all of us to go back?"
Geste looked at her, surprised not by the question, but by the source.
“Not necessarily,” he said. “You can stay if you like, but the terms will be a bit different. Mother won't be up there in orbit any more, to help out with long-range communications. And you had better not screw around with the locals any more, because starting right now, you'll be held accountable when we get some proper authority out here. These people have rights, and we'll see that they're protected. Which brings up another thing-I think it's high time that we started providing these people with some of the benefits of our presence, as well as the inconveniences. It's time we started giving them a little basic technology, improving their agriculture, their medicine, and so forth. Anyone who stays should plan on doing what he or she can to assist the short-lifers in the area."
“That's fine with me,” the Skyler said. “As long as I don't have to deal with them personally."
“I've been doing some of that already,” Leila said.
“I'd also like to say,” Geste went on, “if you don't care about altruism, that we haven't been doing ourselves any good staying here this long. It's too isolated, we have too much time to ourselves. Look at us! We've all gotten into ruts, become stereotypes. Listen to the music the Skyland is playing for us-popcult songs a thousand years old! Isn't it time we got ourselves out of this backwater and back into the mainstream?"
No one answered, and after a pause the Trickster concluded, “All right, then, that's my speech. Now the vote; who says we take Mother and load Thaddeus aboard and go home, immediately?” He raised his hand.
Imp's hand shot up, and Aulden's followed.
The Skyler raised her hand.
Lady Sunlight hesitated, then raised hers.
Sheila raised hers calmly and gracefully.
Madame O's hand rose, then Khalid's, then Arn's, Isabelle's, Lady Haze's, Leila's, and Nymph's.
“Oh, what the hell,” Starflower said, “I was getting tired of it anyway.” She thrust her hand up.
Rawl raised his hand, followed by Tagomi of the Seas, but by then it no longer mattered; the majority had spoken.
“Good!” Geste said, speaking loudly to cover the unhappy muttering of a few of the dissenters. “We leave twenty-eight hours from now-two planetary rotations. If you aren't aboard Mother by then, you're staying, whether you want to or not-and if you stay, remember that you'll be held accountable for your actions from now on.” He stepped down from the table and turned away.
Bredon slipped out of his corner and made his way toward the Trickster. Lady Sunlight noticed him and followed.
He caught Geste at the door.
“Hello, Bredon,” Geste said politely upon noticing him.
“Hello, Lord Geste,” he answered.
“'Geste’ is fine,” the Trickster said. “You don't need to give me any titles. And I was never a lord."
“All right, Geste, then."
“That's better. Now, you look like you're after something. What can I do for you?"
“When will you be taking me home?"
Geste looked at him, startled. “Home?"
“Back to my village."
“Oh! You know, Bredon, I hadn't realized that you wanted to go home; I had thought, somehow, that you'd be coming to Terra with us."
Bredon was speechless; his mouth opened, then closed, but nothing came out.
Behind him, Lady Sunlight said, “Oh, do come, Bredon; I think you'll be amazed. And back there we can get you a proper symbiote, adjust your body a little, extend your lifespan-we don't have the right equipment here yet."
“I can come?” Bredon managed at last. “Really?"
“Of course-if you're sure you want to."
“Want to?” The question seemed absurd. To travel above the sky, faster than light, to the homeworld of humanity-to live in the light of another sun-of course he wanted to go!
Then other images welled up, images of his parents, his siblings, Kittisha and Mardon and his other friends.
That all seemed unreal. He had learned so much since he had left his village. Could he ever really go back? Could he live the life of a hunter, using a grass rope and a spear, after what he had seen and done?
No, he knew he could not. He brushed the images of family and friends aside.
“Of course I want to come!” he said. “I'd like to go back to my village for a light or so, to tell them all what happened, though.” That, he thought, would be quite a tale; he wondered what it would sound like by the time old Atheron had interpreted it into something the village could accept.
“But even if you can't spare the time, that's all right,” he said. “Of course I want to come!"