Текст книги "Inheritor"

Автор книги: C. J. Cherryh

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 27 (всего у книги 27 страниц)

“Can one go out on deck?” Jase asked. “I want to look at the water.”

“One can, but you might fall in. It’s quite deep. And it’s dark out there.”

“I want to go outside,” Jase said.

Bren looked at Banichi, who slid a glance toward the door not far removed from where they stood. It let out on the deck and a narrow walk to the fishing deck at the stern or the foredeck in front of the bridge.

They were in the middle of the harbor and it was cold out there in the wind, he fully anticipated that; but he nodded, and went back to the group in the salon to catch Jago’s eye.

“We’re going outside a moment,” he said. “Jase needs air.”

“One does understand,” Jago said, and joined him in his going back to the door and out onto the deck.

Banichi and Jase had gone to the foredeck. Jase stood at the very point of the bow, in the wind and the spray. He’d be soaked, Bren thought. Banichi was out of his mind, standing by him like that.

He and Jago walked up to the rail.

“How deep is it?” Jase asked, over the rush of water and the noise of the engines.

“Oh—” He had no real idea. He guessed, since security didn’t come up with the answer. “About thirty meters.”

“We’re high up, then.”

It was an odd way of looking at the ocean. “I suppose we are.”

“If you fall in, do you go to the bottom?”

Now he knew the direction of Jase’s thoughts. And didn’t like it.

“The waves bring you to the shore,” he said, and didn’t know how to explain that fact of oceans to a man from space. “Jase? Don’t give up on her.”

“I’m not giving up,” Jase said. “I won’t. I couldn’t be sick, Bren. I thought I was. But it’s better at night. You can see the stars.”

One could. The land was black on either side of them. The water shone. There was a black line reaching far out across the harbor mouth; a light stood at the end of it and a line of light shone across the waves. That was the breakwater, extending south from the cliffs. That was where the beach was,

“There are boats out there in the distance,” Jago said, she of the sharp eyesight. He couldn’t see them.

“Beyond the breakwater,” Banichi said, and lifted an arm. “We’ll go out and around, paidhiin-ji. The road is running beside us at the moment, at the foot of the cliffs over there. If we’d dared rely on Saduri orthe Atageini lord, we should have left you both in the township.”

“No,” Bren said. “I’m glad we’re here. Just—how are we going to get in to shore in this boat, nadiin? We can’t beach it.”

“A good question,” Banichi said, but didn’t answer. Bren tried again.

“Can we get ashore, nadiin-ji?”

“ Wewill go ashore, Bren-ji,” Jago said. “If we have to go in, which is by no means certain yet.”

“With us, you will!”

“Listen to your security, Bren-ji. Always listen to your security.”

“Damn it, I was with you at Malguri, I was with you at Taiben.”

“My partner,” Jase said. “Nadiin, mypartner and Hanks-paidhi. Out there.”

“Bad numbers,” Banichi said. “No.”

“You’re not a ’counter,” Bren said, “nadi. I know you’re not. Four is a perfectly fine number.”

Banichi laughed and looked at the open sea ahead of them.

“You need translators, if it’s humans involved.”

“Jago-ji,” Banichi said, “you stay with them. Felicitous three.”

“No,” Jago said.

“Your duty, Jago-ji. Someone has to keep them aboard.”

“I am going,” Bren said.

“No,” Banichi said, “you are not, nand’ paidhi. But you can watch.”

He fell silent then, dejected, telling himself it was not fair of them, but neither was he of any use if he took Jago away from her partner simply to watch them.

“Then trust, Jago-ji, that I can remain safe with the guard aboard, and I will not risk Banichi’s life by holding you here. You saved him at Malguri and again in the Marid—”

“An exaggeration,” Banichi said.

“I want both of you back,” Bren said. “Nadiin.” The wind was like ice this far out in the harbor. The breakwater was very close. The boats were running dark. There was only the one light showing, that at the end of the breakwater rocks.

“Best get inside,” Banichi said. “All of us. We’ll be passing close to a sniper vantage, if they’ve positioned anyone to hold the harbor.”

Banichi herded them back, back to the door. Against the glow from Saduri Township, even human eyes could see the fishing boats running behind them, six, seven, maybe more behind.

The light inside the salon was out. They were dark as all the other boats now. Bren felt his way the short distance to the salon, with Jase and Banichi and Jago behind him.

“Best everyone get down, nandiin,” Banichi said. “We’re coming up on the breakwater.”

“A very good idea,” Cenedi said. “ ’Sidi-ji?”

“Damned nuisance,” Ilisidi said. “ Youstay inside, ’Nedi-ji. There’s nothing to be gained out there. Down!”

The dowager sat down on the floor. That settled the matter. They all sat down, low, beneath the woodwork, while the engines thumped placidly away.

And all of a sudden surged, as the fishing yacht proved what it had in reserve. They had to be passing the breakwater light, the one vantage for ambush.

Jase was tucked down. Bren held his breath as the deck tilted sharply to port under the power of the engines; and all of a sudden the boat shook and rocked and something exploded against the hull and the superstructure at once.

“Damn!” Geigi cried, as the diesels roared and the deck pitched hard on the beam on the other tack. Starboard, this time, canted way over. The boat’s course was an arc. And they were surely beyond the breakwater. “We’ve not lost an engine,” Geigi said, which was the first thing to think in a veering motion. By the sound, that was correct, but the pilot up on the bridge must have jammed the wheel all the way over to starboard and if they were past the breakwater they had to be turning back to—

The boat’s keel hit something, the engines kept driving, one roaring dry as the starboard side hull hit and bounced along rock. Cushions and bodies and glassware and the remnants of the stern window all traveled toward the bulkhead as Jase and Bren slid down the hall toward the door that swung wildly on its hinges.

“Get out!” Banichi shouted as motion slowed. “We’re full of fuel!”

“Do it!” Bren cried, shoving at Jase. They were closest to the door, and the door had come open, the whole boat listing over hard as it swayed and bobbed and scraped along the shore, pushed by the sea and its last working engine. “Get out!”

Jase moved, half-fell through the open door and slid against the rail, Bren right with him and someone else close behind him. Gunfire hammered at the hull as they went over the rail and dropped into waist-deep water.

Someone and a second someone landed beside them with two distinct splashes. “Keep down,” Banichi’s voice said. “Keep below the tide line! Stay nearthe water unless the tank blows!”

He took the advice, his hand in the middle of Jase’s back as they moved aside to give others room to exit the still-moving boat, which was grinding and scraping its way along rocks, its engines both dead now, the waves pushing at it. They were on the breakwater. Others of their group splashed down and they made their way further toward the bow. Fire was still coming at them.

“Where’s Lasari?” Geigi’s voice cried. “Lasari! Casurni, he’s not answering.”

“Get clear, nandi!” someone said. “I’ll get him out!”

Gunfire boomed out, a large gun, from somewhere astern and in the dark.

It hit the cliffs.

“I’ve got him,” someone said. “Geigi-ji, I have him, I’m coming down!”

A hand found Bren’s arm. “Move, nadiin! That rock!”

He couldn’t see what she wanted. But he moved ahead, keeping low, and Jase was with them. Someone, two or three, splashed past the three of them, and flattened down on the rocks and got up and ran again, as gunfire aimed at the boat thumped and echoed off the cliffs.

‘They’re trying to blow the boat up,“ Jago said.

“Where is the dowager?” he asked. “Where’s Banichi?”

“Just go, paidhiin-ji!”

He could see cover ahead now, Jago’s rock, a huge boulder embedded in sand; and sand kicked up where bullets hit it.

He dived behind the rock and Jase went down with him, Jago atop them, for a second. Then Jago was seeking targets in the rocks at the foot of the cliffs, the height above them that of Mogari-nai. He remembered—for the first time remembered—he had a gun. It was jabbing him in the ribs; and he dragged it out and slipped the safety off.

“Can you see anything?” he asked.

“We are—”

Jago shoved herself around the rock, slammed them into the rock and the sand, and a shot went off to their right flank, and a second, answering shot banged out right beside him from Jago’s gun, so close to his face he was in danger of powder burns.

He couldn’t see. “Stay down!” Jago said, and used her pocket com, telling Banichi something in vocal code.

An answer came back. He couldn’t hear. His ears were still ringing from the gunshot. Jase was breathing hard, Jago’s elbow and a lump of rock were both in painful places, but he didn’t move, nor did Jase.

Another paired set of shots resounded near at hand as Jago’s body jumped, and a succession of shots went off, two of them hers. He saw a gun flash: he fired back; and heard a scatter of gunfire elsewhere.

Then in a thump of sound and glare that cast the rock breakwater and the sand in stark light and shadow—the boat’s fuel tanks blew. He saw a figure, the man he must have shot, lying flat on the beach near them.

Then other atevi figures started running across the rocks from the boat and toward the action.

“That’s Cenedi,” Jago said, with no breath. And he hoped to God she meant the running ones.

“Are you hit?” he asked Jago. “Jago-ji, are you all right?” He shook at her, and then for whatever reason she caught a breath. “Are you hit?”

“Bruised—bruised, nadi.” Gunfire was still thumping and popping from further away, as in the continuing, fainter light of the burning boat, he probed past her fingers where the leather of her coat was shredded. His hands met the bulletproof lining beneath that, and that fabric had a stiffened dent where kinetic reflex fibers had absorbed the force and taken that shape permanently.

One of the new plastics. For the space program.

“Stay in shadow,” she said, and held her side and braced herself to reload. “One is grateful, nadi,” she said between her teeth. “But if Banichi finds us sitting here, I will hear about it often. We need better cover.”

The water was lit like a carnival. Gunfire was coming at them from along the bottom of the cliffs, where the sandy beach offered dunes and cover. And there, at the limit of the light from Geigi’s boat, another sail-driven yacht lay in a wreckage the mirror-image of their own, heeled over on the sand. Inflatable runabouts were beached near it, three of them.

“God.” He nudged Jago. Jagohadn’t seen the wreck, either, until then. She made a call on the pocket com, and this time, crouched very close to Jago and in a lull in the gunfire, he heard Banichi’s voice:

“ I see it,” Banichi said. “ I see no sign of movement.”

A concentrated fire swept the beach and knocked chips off the boulder.

“ One would suggest you stay down,” Banichi said.

“One would suggest you do the same,” Jago retorted, and did not seem happy—evidently not believing Banichi would take his own advice. She turned on one knee, crouching low, and took a fast look.

Very fast. Fire blasted back and kicked up sand that Bren spat and wiped from his face.

“We are in a predicament,” Jago said. “I have position. I’m going to move quickly, Bren-ji, and I must ask you stay here. You have your gun. I want you to fire ten shots, above my head, please, while I run for the rocks a little closer. Then I will lay down fire to cover Banichi and Casurni, who will move. Ten will empty your clip.” She pressed a clip into his hand. “Reload as rapidly as you can and please aim above me.”

“Jago—”

“I must trust you to do this, nadi,” Jago said. “Can you see the gunflashes?”

Fire was going on. He did see, risking a look. “Yes.”

“Begin firing, Bren-ji. Now!”

She didn’t give him a chance to protest. She ran. He fired, putting shots as accurately as he could toward that mark, and someone else was firing, he thought maybe Banichi and maybe someone else.

But fire came back. Jago staggered and went down, and got up, and he fired, pacing his shots. Jago was hurt, trying to run; and then someone from their side broke from cover and reached her and swept her along just as heran out of bullets.

“Damn!” he gasped, and tried to reload calmly, rammed the clip in and fired as rock shattered and something stung his chin. He saw the two figures reach cover and then open fire—two discharges of weapons.

“She made it! They made it!” Jase said beside him. “Incandescent.”

He held his fire maybe two seconds, having maybe seven, eight shots left. Then fire started up again, Jago’s and, he guessed, Banichi’s, which was covering Geigi’s man, Casurni. It was too rapid for just one. He opened fire to support them.

Then—

“Bren!” Jase said, and distracted him to the side, where firelit movement out on the water caught his eye.

Something huge was coming in from the sea, past the wreck of the yacht, like some floating white monster with a mouth gaping dark and wide, an incredible sight, lit by the fire of the burning boat.

It rammed itself onto the sand between them and the wrecked yacht down the beach. A broad ramp came thumping down and a tide of atevi poured out onto the beach, guns in hand. The sign on the superstructure said Dur-Saduri.

“God,” he said, as fire spattered across the beach.

“What isit?” Jase asked.

He said, faintly, not quite believing his own conclusion, “I thinkit’s the Dur island ferry.”

27

There were black-uniformed Guild among the new arrivals. Bren could see them walking across the beach, saw the use of pocket coms, and held his breath and hoped. For a moment firing was very intense and he shouted aloud, “Finesse, nadiin! We have people out there!”

Someone came directly toward their shelter, not rapidly, a little bent and limping, and he ducked in fear of having mistaken the situation. He was about to advise Jase to run for one of the inflatables, when a shadow came to the rock, leaned there, black leather sparking firelight off metal studs, and—he was sure it was Nawari, of Ilisidi’s service—said, “Are you all right, nandiin?”

“Perfectly fine,” Bren said, and stood up as Jase rose to his feet beside him—if Nawari was standing up, he dared. “Jago and Banichi and I think Cenedi went that way!” Fire was still going on. He was shaky in the knees. “Can you spare a clip, nadi?”

Nawari gave him one, and took off running.

“Come on,” he said to Jase, and ran after the man, toward the bank of rocks that, he saw in the firelight, supported a paved road right at cliffside, until pavement lost itself on the beach.

Thatwas where the intense fighting had been going on. That was where he found others of their group, lord Geigi among them, and Ilisidi; and Jago, who had a bloody bandage just above the top of her boot and who was getting off shots down into the dark. As he and Jase slid in beside her, he could just make out the tops of a group of trucks in that direction, between them and Saduri Township. She spared only a dart of her eyes toward them.

“What target?” he asked her.

“Those trucks,” she said. “Aim high! My partner’s a fool!”

He was alarmed. “Where’s Banichi?” he asked. He saw gun flashes out in the dark where he thought was water, and realized then it was the fishing boats. Geigi’s other Guild protection, Gesirimu, had been with them, and theywere running close to shore, firing from the water toward the trucks on that road.

“He said he’d get the trucks!” Jago said, stopping to shove in another clip.

“Are we sure who’s out there in the trucks, Jago-ji? Jase’s partner is missing!”

“We’re sure. Hanks has a pocket com. She’s appealed to all of us to disintegrate and abase our weapons.”

It was surreal. The paidhiin were shooting at each other. His friendBanichi was out there in the dark with bullets flying from the water and from their position, and he opened fire high, with the thought of knocking rock down off the cliffs above those trucks. He was scared of hitting Banichi.

Jago’s fire joined his, lower and more dangerous to the enemy, he was sure. And another someone joined them.

“Nandiin!” a young voice said. “My father believedthe dowager’s men! I have a gun! Where do I shoot!”

“Above the trucks!” Bren said. “Aim at the cliff. Produce ricochets!”

“Yes!” Rejiri said, lifted his high-caliber rifle, and fired.

Fire blossomed in the trucks, and in a flash that imprinted trucks and figures on the retina, light stained the cliffs, the sand, the sea, lit the boats and the rocks they were using for cover. The shock went through the ground and into their bones and before the light died a piece of the cliff was peeling away and headed down toward the trucks. There was the sound of one truck engine, speeding away.

“Ten, ten,” Jago said anxiously into the com.

“ Got them,” Banichi’s voice came back. “All but one, damn it.”

That truck was headed back to Saduri, by the sound of the motor fading. Jago rattled off a string of verbal code that Bren guessed was their identities. It ended with, “The Dur island ferry,” and drew an astonished and rude remark from the com.

A hand closed on Bren’s shoulder, Jase’s, in the silence of the guns. He reached his own out and closed on Jase’s arm, shaky, feeling the chill of the wind now that the area was quiet. Jago went on, apparently trying to talk to someone else.

Then a voice came back and Jago said, “Ten, ten, four, sixteen. Headed your way.”

“ Mistake on their part,” a voice came back. And something exploded in the distance, another shock echoing and echoing off the cliffs.

There was silence after, except the ringing in the ears.

“ Lord Tatiseigi’s compliments,” the com said distinctly.

Deana Hanks was dead. Banichi said he could verify that and it was probably better not to go down to the trucks, but Bren did. The place stank of smoke, of oil, and ocean—of burning, mostly, and while he was there, a small rock gave way high up the cliffs and fell with a pelting of gravel.

Six humans. At least—he was relatively sure it was six. More atevi. Twisted metal, the paint burned off. Banichi had gotten them with a grenade he’d gotten from up at Mogari-nai.

And Tatiseigi’s forces, while the elderly lord had ridden down in the van, had occupied the township proper and thrown up a roadblock with the help of residents. So they heard on the radio.

Fishing boats had come in as close as they could to shore within Saduri Harbor. They were anchored there.

One could just see the lines that ran down to the water. Bren began to be aware of the dawn, as he and Banichi walked back toward the beach.

Jase and Jago waited for him where the paved road gave way to sand and a view of two wrecked boats, the beached island ferry, and a sea full of pleasure yachts and working boats, all in the shadow of the Saduri headland.

Jago had his computer. The case was mostly melted. It was a wonder the strap held.

“Bren-ji, I did my best,” Jago said.

“Jago, you did wonderfully well.” He took it, such as it was. What it could do, it had done. Data recovery might turn up something, but he doubted it. “How are youdoing?”

“Nothing serious, nadi. The dowager is well, lord Geigi is well. Cenedi has a cut from glass. Wehave taken no serious injuries. Lord Geigi’s pilot has cuts and both arms broken, but he did excellently well to steer us about into the shore when the bridge was hit.”

“One is veryglad, Jago.” Bren leaned against the rock and caught his breath. Or tried to. He pointed to the ferry. “Did you know about that?”

“One had noidea, nadi,” Jago said. “Our people there were under orders not to use radio, and they didn’t. The boy—and his father—called in certain of the island folk. And saw the fires and came in.”

“Definitely it was Hanks,” Bren said. “It’s a mess down there. We won’t know what happened—but she musthave hit the rocks at the point.” He was looking out to sea as he said it. And saw, among the atevi yachts in the haze of smoke and morning, a motor-sailer, a tall-masted boat that didn’t belong in this company, gliding along under sail.

It didn’t belong in this company.

It didn’t belong in these waters. It belonged up on the north shore of Mospheira.

“My God,” he said, and then in Ragi: “That’s my brother’s boat!”

“Bren!” a male voice yelled, and he knew the man who’d come running toward him from the grounded runabout—a man in a pale fishing jacket and a hat, a ridiculous hat stuck about with fishing floats. Yolanda Mercheson stepped over the side of the orange fabric boat, with him, and third was Shawn Tyers. Yolanda was trying to run, not quite steady on land-legs; and about then Toby was all his field of vision, Toby unshaven, looking as if he’d had no sleep for days, and grinning from ear to ear.

“God, it’s good to see you!”

“Good to see you,” Bren said, and Toby hugged him; he hugged Toby. Atevi had to wonder at them, and he didn’t care.

“What are you doinghere?” Bren managed to ask.

“What are youdoing?” Toby asked. “Are we at war or something? We were doing fine but a gunboat escorted us down here.”

“They’re ours. How’s mama?”

“She’s doing fine. We couldn’t bring her. But Jill’s with her. And the kids. We brought Shawn’s family, though.”

Shawn was there, in a puffy insulated jacket, bright blue, the most informal thing he’d ever seen Shawn wear. He let go of Toby and recovered wit enough to hold out his hand.

“Welcome ashore, sir. I take it you had something to do with this.”

“It was getting uncomfortable,” Shawn said, and nodded over his shoulder where Jase and the other ship-paidhi were giving atevi another exhibition, oblivious to all else. “I figured it was easier to talk to the aiji than to George, truth be told. We just assembled down at Bretano and Toby flew up to the coast and got the boat. Got my wife, my kids, a Ms. Johnson who said you sent her—”

“God, Sandra made it.”

“Showed up at my door with two plants in a grocery sack as I was leaving for Bretano. I said come along, we’d explain it. She said she didn’t want to go this far, but it sounded safer here.” Shawn cast a look around the beach. “She’s probably changed her mind.”

Bren looked behind him, where a row of atevi stood, Banichi, and Jago, and Cenedi, expressionless, uniformed, and armed.

He suddenly realized how they must look to Toby and Shawn. And blinked again and saw his dearest friends.

28

The wind came in from the sea, in a summer warm and pleasant. The leaves sighed in a lazy, sleepy sussuration on the face of the wall, where the djossi vine had spread itself wide.

Lord Geigi was bringing the boat. His new, two meters longerboat, gratefully donated by Murini, lord of the Kadigidi. It was a short walk down to the water.

“Quiet day,” Jago said, leaning elbows on the rail. She made hand-signals. The paidhi could just about bet that Banichi was below, watching over the boat dock.

Jago made a furious sign then, and a sign of dismissal, but not in anger, in laughter. Banichi’s unseen comment was, he was sure, salacious.

“The boat’s coming in,” Jago said.

“One thought so,” Bren said, and stood up and looked over the the rail himself.

Toby was joining them—that was the second boat, tied up just down the row. Geigi especially favored Toby: a fine sailor, Geigi called him, a true fisherman. Toby had an invitation in his own right; and he’d brought their mother for a three-day visit coinciding with the paidhiin’s two weeks at Geigi’s estate. Jill, who was pregnant, had flung herself valiantly into the breach, and was, with Shawn’s wife, not only entertaining their mother, but escorting a children’s birthday party (Shawn’s oldest) to the beach, which had Tano and Algini occupied.

“Nadi.” Jase joined him, with Yolanda, coming out of the house. “Are we promised fishing gear? One wants to be sure.”

“There is, nadiin,” Bren said. “I assure you it’s on the boat.”

“I’ll be sure before I board,” Jase said, and the two of them took the steps quite rapidly for spacefarers.

The ship—it was up there. The government of Mospheira was dealing quite politely nowadays, having apologized for the misunderstanding—one knew they would. The aiji had threatened an embargo of more than aluminum if they didn’t come up with a passport for anyone the paidhiin requested—an offer the validity of which Sandra Johnson had tested, returning once for a visit, and a night of live machimi theater in Shejidan, the experience of her office-bound life. Now the State Department wanted Yolanda to come back and lecture to the Foreign Studies program at the University. One was absolutely sure she would not accept the offer, although Shawn said with Eugene Weinberg in as Secretary of State it was a certainty they’d honor her passport.

The telling matter was that the government of Mospheira, no longer able to pretend it had a space program, was dealing for Patinandi to build an expansion plant on the mainland to build a second spacecraft, part of a fleet of five such craft, that being the only way humans were going to get up to the station; and the ship did want them.

Shawn, however, was not going back to Mospheira. Emissaries came to Shawn, who said he’d wait for the next elections to see whether the voters had really acquired some sense. The Progressive Unionists wanted Shawn to run for President of Mospheira in the fall, but he said he’d think about it. Meanwhile Sonja Podesty was a very good candidate for Foreign Secretary if they’d use their heads. He wrote letters to Weinberg suggesting Weinberg run for President for the Unionists and appoint Podesty to the cabinet post.

Mospheira had to revise its notions of the universe, quite as much as Geigi had—and with far more disturbance to their expectations.

A radio show on the far side of the island, on which George Barrulin was a frequent guest, still maintained that atevi were going to pour across the straits and murder them all; but tell that, this summer, to the traders who saw their markets opening up, tell that to the companies which were making across-the-straits deals. The Foreign Office and the State Department were beginning to issue trade permits and companies would cut throats to be in early on the market—even if the aiji would not issue patent protection beyond three years for any product. The aiji wasprotecting certain Mospheiran patents, where it served the interests of atevi or where the paidhiin recommended exceptions. Everything among atevi was both patronage andmerit. It always had been. And Gaylord Hanks wasn’t on the aiji’s list.

Tides ebbed and flowed in that blue water, and the one that had carried Deana Hanks to the heights of influence was ebbing. Her father still had money; and the old money still gathered at the Society meetings and talked about the unfairness of it all, but money meant less when the ideas it bought and backed were on the ebb of their fortunes, gotten down to the tide-pools and creatures that skipped away for deeper, safer water.

The aiji was in Shejidan, the heir of Dur was attending University, grandmother was riding mechieti at Malguri on the lake, and uncle Tatiseigi was in Shejidan politicking with the fragments of the association which had revolved around Direiso and now wanted very much to be seen with Uncle andwith lord Geigi, who was the guest of the season in social circles.

As for the bad neighbors out in space, those who needed to know were warned. They were working on it. Nobody mentioned it. Yet.

Bren picked up the lunch basket that had rested on the terrace and joined Jago on the way down the steps.

They had gotten fairly good at certain things. Practice, Jago called it.

The aiji-dowager had invited the paidhiin and their staff for a season at summer’s end—the aiji-dowager had promised themboating, too, and a bedchamber guaranteed to be as haunted as the lake.

The ghost bell has been heard this summer, Ilisidi had written them, in that careful, delicate hand Jago said was the old school of penmanship. I propose to spend the night in the old watchman’s tower on the island in the lake. If we find no ghosts the view of the stars will still be extraordinary, and if it rains, the fireplace is intact.

I assure you of the safety of the old tower and the caution of our cuisine as well as the security of our boundaries. The shell holes are patched. The banners fly. There’s a nest of wi’itikiin on the roof this summer.

The damned creatures have taken advantage of the repairs and are getting entirely too impertinent.

–«»—«»—«»—

]