The Children of the Sky

Greenstalk wisped a frond across Tycoon’s nearest head. “Thank you, sir. I think slowly and dream a lot. My skrode doesn’t make memories easily, but I and mine will be good servants? citizens?”

“Employees,” Tycoon said firmly.

“I am so glad to see Ravna again. It has been—?”

“Years,” said Ravna. “I couldn’t find you.”

“That time doesn’t matter so much to me. These are friends you are among now?”

Ravna looked at Tycoon, at Zek who was surely relaying this conversation back to Vendacious. The truth, right now, could not be spoken and would not be understood. It would have taken tendays for Ravna to explain the situation to Greenstalk, repeating and repeating until the memories sat firm. She turned back to Greenstalk and said, “Tycoon here is my friend.” She gestured around to the eight.

The voder buzzed. It might have been cheerful laughter if the device weren’t so old and under water. “Good. Good. I am glad. Sit and repeat it to me some times.”

Ravna looked to the north, far past Greenstalk’s pond. While they had been talking, Tycoon’s great airship had been dragged clear of the hangar. It floated just clear of the ground, tethered by its landing pylon and dozens of tie-down cables. She glanced at Tycoon. “This will take a little time,” she said.

Tycoon look around at himself and then back at Greenstalk. Finally he said, “So Greenstalk, this Ravna Bergsndot is your friend?”

“She is my dearest friend in all the world.”

•  •  •

The Great Tycoon’s expedition to the Domain was delayed by one day. During much of that time, Ravna and Jefri and Tycoon sat around the cuttlefish pool—the riderlet pool—and explained that they were going away for a brief time, but that they would be back, with interesting news and projects. One day of repetition was probably enough. Greenstalk would remember, and would cooperate in ways that already seemed to have Tycoon—both as inventor and businesscritter—vastly intrigued.

At no time did Tycoon state any concessions, even when Ravna spoke to him alone. But when the two airships finally departed, Jefri and Ravna were both aboard Tycoon’s airship.

Chapter   36

As a child in the Beyond, Ravna Bergsndot had lumped everything before spaceflight and automatic computation into an amorphous romantic haze of “pre-technology.” Ravna’s years among the Tines were a never-ending discovery of how much the simplest advances could change one’s life. Tycoon’s airship was such a primitive machine, but Ravna had walked much of the ground they were now overflying. Land that had taken tendays of painful effort to traverse now passed below her in just a few hours. It would have been glorious, except that they spent the first day and night locked up in that familiar tiny cabin.

On the morning of the second day, their progress slowed. The air was bumpy, and the shadows in the clouds below were pointing in the wrong direction. Sometime in the night, Tycoon had changed the ship’s bearing. In the distance, they could see Vendacious’ craft. It had been behind them, out of sight for most of yesterday.

The steward foursome came tapping at their door, but not with breakfast. “This way, this way,” it said. Ravna crawled through the hatch. To her right, the steward was already a meter or two forward, walking along with only an occasional look back in her direction. Their gunpack was to Ravna’s left. Aboard the airship, it carried short-barreled weapons, all the barrels tucked downwards.

“Beware the guns,” she said back to Jefri.

“Hei, guy,” Jef gave the gunpack a little wave as he came into the corridor.

Sandwiched between the steward ahead and the gunpack behind, the humans’ progress was slow. There were hatches at regular intervals along the corridor: more staterooms. The mantle lamp by each turnout was lit. Not for the first time, she gave a little prayer: I really hope these guys also stole the tech to stabilize hydrogen.

The corridor extended the length of the carriage, gently curving along the belly of the ship. They were heading for the bow. Where else would Tycoon hold court?

The ship’s passenger carriage did finally come to an end. The passageway opened onto a cross-corridor that ran the width of the carriage. There were the usual fifteen-centimeter portholes on either side, the sunlight trumping the light from the mantle lamps. In the middle of the open space was a Tinish version of spiral stairs, a fan-like helix of rungs, quite suitable for Tines ascending single file. The steward pack sent a member up the steps. Ravna heard it gobbling, announcing the humans’ arrival. After a moment it came scooting back down. “Go up now, please to go.”

Ravna started up, winding herself around like some comedian in a cross-habitat comedy, but she didn’t quite get stuck. Finally she climbed out onto the carpet of the upper level and looked into bright daylight.