She seemed amused by this. “Of course.” The weapon was pushed discreetly into a pouch on her belt. “Would you like to come in out of the rain? There’s plenty of room in here.”
“You are most kind, I thank you.” When he ducked inside, he was suddenly, unaccountably, overwhelmed by her presence. His eyes sought out the smooth features of the interior, looking everywhere but at her.
“My name’s Justine,” she said gently. There was a hesitancy in her voice, as if she was as uncertain as he.
“Kazimir,” he said. “How did you know I was there?”
A slim arm was raised, a finger tapping just below her right eye. “My inserts have an infrared capability. You were shining quite brightly.” Her lips twitched. “You’re hot you know.”
“Oh.” But he’d foolishly followed the motion of her hand, and now couldn’t look away from her face. Her eyes were light green, he saw, with slim eyebrows. She had long, prominent cheekbones, and a somewhat flattish jaw; a slender button nose poised above wide, moist lips. Every feature was delicate, yet together they awarded her a sophistication he was sure he could never match. And her flawless skin was a shade of pale honey-gold he’d never known before. In surprise, he realized she was very young, close to his own seventeen years. Yet she had flown the glider through the heart of the storm. The courage and talent that must take… He looked at his feet again, aware of distance opening between them.
“Here you go,” she said kindly, and handed him the towel she was holding. “You’re actually wetter than I am.”
Kazimir looked at it in confusion for a moment, before slipping his small backpack off. “Thank you.” He mopped the moisture off his face, then shrugged out of his leather waistcoat. The towel’s thin fabric seemed to suck the droplets off his chest and back as he rubbed, leaving his skin perfectly dry.
Justine reached into her bag, and produced another towel for herself. He was aware of her eyes on him, narrowed with amusement, as he dried his shins and calves. So he stopped at his knees, not lifting his kilt to dry his thighs—though they weren’t that damp, the kilt was reasonably waterproof.
“What tartan is that?” she asked.
He glanced down at the emerald and copper check, and smiled with pride. “I am a McFoster.”
Justine produced a sound that sounded suspiciously like a snort. “I’m sorry,” she said contritely. “But, with that skin color it’s a little difficult to picture you as a native clansman.”
Kazimir frowned. His skin was a rich brown, complemented by thick jet hair that he wore long and tied back with a single scarlet band; how could colors prevent him from being a clan member? Between them, the clans had members from most of old Earth’s racial groups. His grandmother always told wonderful tales of her grandmother’s early life in India. “I don’t understand. My ancestors were one of the first families to be saved by Bradley Johansson.”
“Johansson? We’re not talking Scottish clans here, are we?”
“What’s a Scottish?”
“Never mind.” She looked out of the entrance at the steady downpour of warm rain. “It looks like we’ve got a bit of time to spend together. Tell me about your clan, Kazimir.”
“The rains will only last another hour.”
“How long a story is it?”
He grinned at her, warmed by her answering smile. The angel was so achingly beautiful, any excuse to remain close to her was welcome. As if knowing this, the wall of the tent beside him changed shape, and expanded out to form a couch. They sat on it together.
“Tell me,” she urged. “I want to know about your world.”
“Will you tell me of your flight?”
“I will.”
He nodded his head, happy at the promised trade. “There are seven clans living on Far Away. Together we form the Guardians of Selfhood.”
“I’ve heard of them,” she murmured.
“We stand between the Starflyer alien and human ruin. Alone of all our race, we see the danger it brought with its shadows of deceit and its manipulation of vain men and women. Bradley Johansson opened our eyes to the truth long ago. One day, thanks to him, we will help this planet take its revenge.”
“That sounds like something you’ve been taught, Kazimir.”
“Since the moment I drew my first breath, I have known what I am, and what I must face. Ours is a harsh burden: none of you offworlders believe in our cause, you are blind to the alien’s poison. Yet we endure because of our faith and our gratitude. Bradley Johansson is our savior, and one day, all of humanity will know him as their savior.”
“How did he save you?”
“As he was saved. By decency and kindness. He came to this world among the first people, and began to investigate the alien’s ship.”
“I heard that,” Justine said. “He was the first director of the Marie Celeste Research Institute, wasn’t he?”
“Yes. People say it is deserted, a wreck, abandoned and empty. It is not; that is what the alien would have humanity believe. It survived the crash.”
“There’s a living alien here, from the arkship?”
“It used to be here, it passed into the Commonwealth long ago, where it moves among us, hidden and evil.”
“Really? So you’ve never seen it for yourself, then?”
“I have never left Far Away. But one day the Starflyer will return when its schemes reach fruition. I hope that is within my lifetime. I would like to be a part of its downfall.”
“What does it look like?”
“Nobody knows what it looks like, not even Bradley Johansson is sure. He may have seen it, he can’t remember. Many of his old thoughts were lost when he was liberated.”
“Okay, so this Starflyer survived the crash. What happened then?”
“It ignited the flare in Far Away’s sun to lure the unsuspecting here. And when Bradley Johansson delved into the secrets of the ship, he awoke the Starflyer and was enslaved by it. For many years he toiled under its control, helping to extend its influence into the Commonwealth, whispering into the hearts of those in power, issuing false promises and shaping the tide of events. But the Starflyer was ignorant of this part of the galaxy, and troubled by the other races who live here, fearful they would thwart its goals. Not all of them are as ignorant and prideful as us. It sent Bradley to Silvergalde so that he could experience the Silfen firsthand and report back on what he found. But the Silfen are wiser than humans and the Starflyer; they could see the bonds which it had cast into Bradley’s mind, and cut him free.”
“Ah, the liberation.”
“Yes. They cured him. Some men, having been freed, would run away from such a horror so they could remain free. But Bradley knew there was a greater danger in that; he said that for wickedness to succeed all it takes is for decent people to do nothing.”
“Bradley Johansson said that, did he?”
“Yes. He returned to Far Away and liberated others who had been enslaved by the Starflyer. They were the seven families who grew into the clans.”
“I see.” Her voice was serious.
Kazimir glanced anxiously at her. The expression on her face was terribly sober. It saddened him; that lovely face should only know happiness. Wasn’t protecting her and her kind what he had given his life to? “Don’t worry,” he told her. “We will guard you from the Starflyer. It will not succeed. This planet will be revenged.”
Her head tipped to one side as she gave him a long, thoughtful gaze. “You really mean that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
For some reason the answer seemed to trouble her. “It’s a very noble thing that you do, Kazimir. Nobility exerts a kinship which is hard to break.”
“The Starflyer will never corrupt my loyalty to my clan and our cause.”