ii
Private apartments, the First of Council, Cyteen Capital
“It’s only come a few years ahead of expectations.” Councillor Harad’s face, naturally long, was longer still in his contemplation. He paused, poured himself and the Secretary each a glass of wine–lifted his, thoughtfully. “This is our purchase. Pell wine, from the heart of Alliance.”
“You would have opposed the signing.”
“Absolutely not.” Harad sipped slowly and settled again in his chair. The window overlooked the concrete canyons of the city and the winding silver sheen of the Amity River. Outside, commerce came and went. “As it is, Alliance ships go on serving our ports. No boycott. And the longer that’s true–the less likely it becomes. So the colonies were well spent. They’ll keep the Alliance quite busy.”
“They may just lift the colonists off, you know. And if one colony should resist, we’ll have a crisis on our hands.”
“They won’t. There’ll be no untoward incident. Maybe Alliance knows they’re there. We’ll have to break that news, at least, now the treaty’s signed. They’ll take that hard, if they don’t know. They’ll be demanding records, access to files. They’ll know, of course, the files will be culled; but we’ll cooperate. That’s at the bureau level.”
“It seems to me a halfwitted move.”
“What?”
“To give up. Oh, I know the logic: hard worlds to develop; and we’ve hurried Alliance into expansion–but all things considered, maybe we should have thrown more into it. We may regret those worlds.”
“The economics of the time.”
“But not our present limits.”
Harad frowned. “I’ve looked into this. My predecessor left us a legacy. Those worlds were all hard. I’ll tell you something I’ve known since first I opened the file. The Reach colonies were all designed to fail.”
The Secretary favored him with a cold blue stare. “You’re serious.”
“Absolutely. We couldn’t afford to do it right. Not in those years. It was all going into ships. So we set them up to fail. Ecological disaster; a human population that would survive but scatter into impossible terrain. That’s what they’ll find. No mission was ever backed up. No ships were dispatched. The colonists never knew.”
“Union citizens–Union lives–”
“That was the way of it in those days. That’s why I supported the treaty. We’ve just dictated Alliance’s first colonial moves, handed them a prize that will bog them down in that direction for decades yet to come. Whatever they do hereafter will have to be in spite of what they’ve gained.”
“But the lives, Councillor. Those people waiting on ships that never came–”
“But it accomplished what it set out to do. And isn’t it, in all accounts, far cheaper than a war?”
VI
RE‑ENTRY
Military Personneclass="underline"
Col. James A. Conn, governor general d. 3 CR
Capt. Ada P. Beaumont, It. governor, d. year of founding
Maj. Peter T. Gallin, personnel, d. 34 CR
M/Sgt. Ilya V. Burdette, Corps of Engineers, d. 23 CR
Cpl. Antonia M. Cole, d. 32 CR
Spec. Martin H. Andresson, d. 22 CR
Spec. Emilie Kontrin, d. 31 CR
Spec. Danton X. Norris d. 22 CR
M/Sgt. Danielle L. Emberton, tactical op., d. 22 CR
Spec. Lewiston W. Rogers, d. 22 CR
Spec. Hamil N. Masu, d. 22 CR
Spec. Grigori R. Tamilin, d. 22 CR
M/Sgt. Pavlos D. M. Bilas, maintenance, d. 34 CR
Spec. Dorothy T. Kyle, d. 40 CR
Spec. Egan I. Innis, d. 36 CR
Spec. Lucas M. White, d. 32 CR
Spec. Eron 678‑4578 Miles, d. 49 CR
Spec. Upton R. Patrick, d. 38 CR
Spec. Gene T. Troyes, d. 42 CR
Spec. Tyler W. Hammett, d. 42 CR
Spec. Kelley N. Matsuo, d. 44 CR
Spec. Belle M. Rider, d. 48 CR
Spec. Vela K. James, d. 25 CR
Spec. Matthew R. Mayes, d. 29 CR
Spec. Adrian C. Potts, d. 27 CR
Spec. Vasily C. Orlov, d. 44 CR
Spec. Rinata W. Quarry, d. 39 CR
Spec. Kito A. M. Kabir, d. 43 CR
Spec. Sita Chandrus, d. 22 CR
M/Sgt. Dinah L. Sigury, communications, d. 22 CR
Spec. Yung Kim, d. 22 CR
Spec. Lee P. de Witt, d. 48 CR
M/Sgt. Thomas W. Oliver, quartermaster, d. 39 CR
Cpl. Nina N. Ferry, d. 45 CR
Pfc. Hayes Brandon, d. 48 CR
Lt. Romy T. Jones, special forces, d. 22 CR
Sgt. Jan Vandermeer, d. 22 CR
Spec. Kathryn S. Flanahan, d. 22 CR
Spec. Charles M. Ogden, d. 22 CR
M/Sgt. Zell T. Parham, security, d. 22 CR
Cpl. Quintan R. Witten, d. 22 CR
Capt. Jessica N. Sedgewick, confessor‑advocate, d. 38 CR
Capt. Bethan M. Dean, surgeon, d. 46 CR
Capt. Robert T. Hamil, surgeon, d. 32 CR
Lt. Regan T. Chiles, computer services, d. 29 CR
Civilian Personneclass="underline"
Secretarial personneclass="underline" 12
Medical/surgicaclass="underline" 1
Medical/paramedic: 7
Mechanical maintenance: 20
Distribution and warehousing: 20
Robert H. Davies, d. 3 CR
Security: 12
Computer service: 4
Computer maintenance: 2
Librarian: 1
Agricultural specialists: 10
Harold B. Hill, d. 32
CR Geologists: 5
Meteorologist: 1
Biologists: 6
Marco X. Gutierrez, d. 39 CR
Eva K. Jenks, d. 38 CR
Jane Flanahan‑Gutierrez, CR 2–CR 50
Elly Flanahan‑Gutierrez, b. 23 CR–
Education: 5
Cartographer: 1
Management supervisors: 4
Biocycle engineers: 4
Construction personneclass="underline" 50
Food preparation specialists: 6
Industrial specialists: 15
Mining engineers: 2
Energy systems supervisors: 8
ADDITIONAL NONCITIZEN PERSONNEL.
“A” class: 2890
Jin 458‑9998
Pia 86‑687, d. 46 CR
(chart)
“B” class: 12389
“M” class: 4566
“P” class: 20788
“V” class: 1278
i
Communication: Alliance security to AS Ajax “…survey and report.”
ii
Year 58, day 259 CR
The ship came down, all long‑range contact negative, and settled at the site the orbiting scan had turned up.
And Westin Lake, Alliance Forces, ordered the hatch opened on a close view of the land; on a sprawl of human‑made huts, on an eerie wilderness beyond, a landscape different than the sketchy Union charts told them they should find.
Someone swore.
“It’s not right,” another said. That was more than true.
They waited two hours, expecting approach: it failed, except for a few small lizards.
But trails of smoke went up, among the trees and the huts–the smoke of evening fires.
iii
There had been a sound like thunder, disturbing the too‑close sickroom where the old man lay, amid a clutter of wornout blankets. An ariel perched on the windowsill, and another enjoyed a permanent habitation in the stack of baskets by the door. The sound stopped. “Is it raining?” Jin elder asked, stirring from that sleep that had held him neither here nor there. Pia tried to tell him something.
And he was perplexed, because Jin Younger was there too, that tall man sitting on the chest by Pia. There was silver in his son’s beard, and in Pia’s hair. When had they gotten so old?
But Pia– hisPia–was dead long ago. Her sibs had gone close after her; the last of his had gone this spring. All were dead, who had known the ships. None had lived so long as he–if it was life, to lie here dreaming. There was none that recalled the things he remembered. The faces confused him, not clear types such as he had known, but still, much like those he had known.