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India.
It was raw. The battered coast gave way to mountains that lanced into the interior. A giant had stamped
down the edges of Baslin and pulled out the middle, for now a plateau rose in the center and sent down
winding fingers of rivers that carved and slashed at its edges, forming narrow valleys. It was a work
uncompleted, a stone forgotten when the sculptor walked away and threw his tools into the empty seas.
I watched the lowlands as they enlarged and fell away behind us. Shandul was resting comfortably at the
controls with all his concentration focused on the verifying displays from Fleet Control in Kalic. The
bucking and tremors that shook me passed through him like a wave, never diverting his attention. The dull
thunder as we fell prevented most conversation and I didn't try to force one. Below, the plateau was
approaching. Every human on Veden lived on it, drank from its rivers, peered over the edge into the
boiling chaos of the lowlands.
"Parachute going out," Shandul said. The sharp crack of the ejection snapped me forward against my
restraining belts. Parachute? Dissipating velocity with a chute was efficient, but most prosperous areas
didn't take the trouble.
We were above the plateau now and I caught fields of intense magentas and yellows among the riot of
jungle. We were falling along a river valley that was a holiday patchwork against the slate gray peaks that
jutted up and tore the clouds.
The shuttle seemed to be drifting steadily down, gyros correcting smoothly for the turbulence. The rear
TV showed a slight wake, but no orange blur of ionized gases that had vanished with the use of
non-charring heat shields. I studied the land below with the vision hood down over the scope, but the
color washed out details.
Below, the river writhed and I suddenly recognized it: Tankjor, the torrent that bled Baslin's major lake,
The Lapis. And on the shores of those quiet waters was Kalic, our destination, capital of Baslin and thus
Veden.
We hit an air pocket that seemed to have no bottom and I felt a sudden wave of nausea snatch at me. I
was losing my nogee equilibrium. Guiding rockets fired in synchronization with dull slapping thumps that
rattled my teeth. We banked slowly.
Ahead, fractured purple and green winked from The Lapis and the rigid sprawl of Kalic's streets fanned
out to greet me as we adjusted and dropped into a low, comfortable glide. Lekki broke from behind a
virginal white cloud as we cleared the stony margin of the last peak.
A great gray expanse loomed ahead and Shandul made a slight correction. The ship dropped like a sack
of sand again and colors tumbled off to my side as we turned for final approach. I looked outside.
Glimpse of tranquil sky framed by mountains. Quiet drifting feeling. The shuttle jarred, rumbled at me and
we were rolling on our landing gear, land animals again, slaves of gravity.
The shuttle coasted up to a wing of a long low building at the edge of the gray field. I could make out a
mass of men standing in formation and as we drew nearer they separated into three squares with a
delegation out front, all casting long shadows in the late afternoon.
"Very good, Mr. Shandul," I said as we braked to a halt. A stubby cart swung alongside us to spray the
hull with water and instantly the scene outside vanished in a swirl of steam.
"Thank you, sir. If you'll exit through the side " He gestured to a port that slid open. I stepped through
and out onto a platform. I reached up and opened my suit to external pressure and a wave of music burst
over me. It was a long, solemn dirge of some complexity, but it grated my teeth. More appropriate to a
wake, perhaps. Or it might be a subtle indication of how the staff felt about their new ofkaipan Director.
"Greetings, sir!" an officer called at my elbow and the troops in formation snapped into a salute. I tried to
make my replying salute as clipped and neat as possible, but the suit was a hindrance.
"Mr. Majumbdahr," I said, "your men look very well turned out." It was easy to recognize his long jaw
line and elaborately curled hair from the personnel records I'd studied on the Sasenbo. I turned to the
next man, shorter and obviously a purebred Hindie.
"My compliments to you as well, Mr. Gharma. I believe Mr. Shandul is under your command he
handled his ship nicely on the trip down."
All through this my polarizers were clicking madly off and on as I turned at angles to the direct violet glare
of Lekki, which was setting on the horizon.
"If I can get this off, I can review the troops," I said, reaching for my helmet.
Majumbdahr gestured to stop me. "Sir, this light may be harmful to your eyes. We've shortened the
ceremony to allow for this. A few more minutes and we can escort you inside, where it will be more
comfortable."
I frowned, but said nothing. The band, which I'd just located, was standing on a direct line between the
platform and Lekki, and it had just started into a slightly brisker tune, heavy on cymbals and drums.
Probably the Veden anthem. I stood still until it was over, returned a last salute and followed Gharma and
Majumbdahr down the ramp to the field. We walked along a roped-off path in front of the troops with an
appropriately regal silence and entered the Fleet Control building.
Inside there was a medical party waiting for me.
"I should think, Mr. Majumbdahr, that a review of the troops is standard for the introduction of a new
Fleet Control Director."
An officer with surgeon's insignia raised his hand. "I believe Mr. Majumbdahr was acting on a request by
me, sir. We received word that you had not been acclimatized to Veden, due to the shortness of time. I
feared exposure to Lekki without your polarizers would damage your retinal tissue." As he spoke our
party walked along a dimly lit corridor. I felt awkward and irritated, dragging along the suit.
He turned to the rest of them outside a doorway I noticed his name plate read Imirinichin and said, "I [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]