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CHAPTER FIVE

INTRODUCTIONS

Lucia Michaeli hugged herself in excitement as the ship came through the lagoon towards Palazzo San Marco and the floating pier in front of her. No one noticed her excitement. The Palazzo was filled with shouting people, many of them standing in water above their ankles because they couldn’t get a place on the welcoming platform. Lucia couldn’t remember a time of greater excitement in Nikeis.

She stood next to her father. Mother hadn’t felt well enough to come. She was in her fifth month, and it hadn’t been a good pregnancy. It wouldn’t be, Mother was too old to have another child, but God’s will be done. This would be Mother’s seventh, and only three still lived: Lucia, her older sister Catarina, and her older brother Andreas.

God’s will. Professore Clavell never questioned God’s will. Never. But he showed that many plagues people thought to be the will of God were the result of small animals in the water, or of tiny creatures that lived in the blood of fleas, and by avoiding the causes one could avoid the plague. That there was often a way to prevent what everyone knew—had always known—was the will of God. That was disturbing. It was exciting, too, but there was no one to talk to about it, not even the Professore. He would not speak of God, not even of the new Unified Church that rumor said was sweeping Drantos. One story had it that it was the religion of the star men and was prevailing even in Rome. But Professore Clavell would never answer her questions about it. He would talk about medicine and health, and that was very interesting, and sometimes he would talk about other matters which he called “technology”; but he would never discuss God or the human place in God’s universe.

When Signora Michaeli declared that she was unable to come to the welcoming ceremony, it was natural that Lucia would go in her place. Her brother Andreas was on Terra Firma contracting for charcoal, and her older sister Catarina was shy, seldom going outside the home except to the foundry. Catarina knew much about the foundry, and charcoal, and the forges, but she had few social skills, and she was afraid of meeting young men. She was two years older than Lucia, almost an old maid, and she would probably be a spinster, or go into the Church. Father despaired of her ever marrying . . .

The crowd kept shouting as the navi was rowed across the lagoon. It was easy to see the great box on the deck. Container. That was the word Professore Clavell had used after he was told of the first one brought across by the star visitors. No one knew what was in those containers. One had been brought in the dead of night direct to the Arsenale where it was guarded by militia. There were rumors of star visitors welcomed by the Doge and the Signory, but not even Ginarosa Torricelli knew all the story! Not until today.

Andreas’ friend Vincente worked in the Arsenale, and he’d told Lucia that the container couldn’t be opened, although he wouldn’t admit that anyone had tried. It had not been difficult to get Vincente talking, but he hadn’t known much. There were said to be locks that could only be opened by the Star Lord Bart, who would come with the last container. Lucia strained to catch a glimpse of the new star lord, but there was too much activity on the ship’s deck, and she couldn’t make out which one was the star lord.

The ship came closer. The container was larger than she’d imagined, a huge box of painted metal. Ginarosa said that the one in the Arsenale was made of steel.

This would be the third container. There was a second container in Senator Avanti’s palazzo! There were many rumors of how it had gotten there, but one thing was certain, the container now stood in Avanti’s reception hall. The other news was the star visitors, a black man and a star lady who had come with the first containers. The black man had gone back to Terra Firma, but the star lady lived in Senator Avanti’s palazzo! And now she could see the black man, on the quarterdeck of the Queen of Heaven! That must be the other star man with him.

Lucia and Ginarosa had tried to see the star woman and the container, but they’d been turned away at the door when Ginarosa Torricelli tried to call on the Senator. Lucia chuckled at the memory. It hadn’t been easy to get Ginarosa to do that, even though everyone knew that Councilor Torricelli would be glad of a marriage into the Avanti household. It had taken nearly all of Lucia’s skill to persuade her friend to be so bold, and it had done no good at all. The major domo had been polite—everyone was polite to la Signorina Ginarosa Torricelli!—but he hadn’t even let them into the reception hall. They’d seen neither star lady nor container.

Lucia’s maid said she’d heard from a cousin in service to the Avanti family that the star woman lived in the Avanti house. In a room with a door that connected to the Senator’s bedroom! Thinking about that gave Lucia strange tingles. Well, not so strange, she thought. Not now. Familiar, delicious. Lucia knew everything about sex except what it felt like when consummated. That would have to wait. Maidenheads brought a high price, and—she suppressed the thought and looked again at the container on the incoming navi.

Everyone in Nikeis was talking about what might be in the containers, but Lucia didn’t think anyone knew. There were too many different stories. Still, the stories were interesting. Secrets. How to make weapons that struck down enemies from a full Roman mile! How to speak to someone in another city! Ways to cure diseases! When she asked Professore Clavell if those things were possible, he said they were! That in the lands he came from such things were common! “Technology,” “high tech”—those were words he used, and Lucia was careful to memorize them. Despite her questions she hadn’t learned much more than that, though. Professore Clavell didn’t really know what was in these containers, and Lucia didn’t think he really knew how to do all those marvels although she didn’t doubt that he’d seen them done. Most people were like that, accepting what they saw without wondering how it came to be. It was surprising that Professore Clavell would be that way, but apparently it was so.

Professore Clavell hadn’t talked to the star visitors. Or said he hadn’t. He’d even acted surprised to hear that there were star visitors in the city, although everyone in the Rialto knew about them. He had to have known about them. That was puzzling. Professore Clavell kept his own counsel, but he wasn’t very good at it. Perhaps he might be in Drantos, but not here in Nikeis where everyone had secrets and learned to keep them.

He knew about the star visitors now! Lucia could see Professore Clavell, a handsome figure in his oddly cut velvet doublet. Good legs, his stockings didn’t appear to be padded. Perhaps a bit more at the waist than there ought to be, but not excessive, not like some of the Councilors.

The ship with the star visitors came closer. The other star visitors, that was, for of course Professore Clavell was a star visitor himself, but he had been in Drantos for more than seven crossings of the Firestealer behind the True Sun. Lucia had grown up knowing there were visitors from the stars, but meeting Professore Clavell hadn’t been the same as meeting someone just come.

The Signory wanted to know more about the star life, but Lucia didn’t think they were learning much. Lucia had learned as much in the classroom as the Signory had learned by all their questioning. Professore Clavell did not keep secrets. He just didn’t know that much. So who did know the secrets of what the Professore called “high tech”? Did the black man? Was that the secret of the stars, that only black men knew this high-tech magic? Or perhaps, perhaps . . .

The star lady Lorraine wore a wine-colored gown. She stood close to Senator Avanti, who stood next to his father Councilor Avanti. The star lady looked thin. Perhaps she had hidden charms. And perhaps she knew the high tech, but Lucia didn’t think so. If she did, surely the Avanti family would send for someone who knew about foundries. Someone like Lucia, or more likely Catarina, who knew more about foundry operations than even their brother, nearly as much as Father. Someone who could understand. But the Avanti family had not done that . . .

The navi was steered alongside the floating dock that was tied to the Palazzo. Lucia knew about such things, because Fernando had told her. Fernando’s father owned ships. He was a nice boy, and Lucia liked him, and sometimes she felt sorry for encouraging him when she had no intention of ever being more to him than a friend, but it was well to learn how to make boys do what she wanted. And useful! She’d learned all about ships and docks from Fernando. They’d even gone out into the lagoon on one of his father’s ships, Lucia dressed like a boy, but all the sailors knew! That had been exciting. Even her father had smiled as he berated her for doing it. Fernando’s father was a Senator, and he might someday become a Councilor. He was not a handsome boy, alas, and he giggled. But he was a useful friend, and Lucia was careful not to encourage him too much, but to keep him as a friend, even to let him hold her hand once. Once only.

Sailors used ropes to pull the ship tight against the padded fenders on the floating dock. A shout went up when they were done, and an ornate gangway was thrust out to the ship. People pushed in front of her, and Lucia couldn’t see what happened next, but she knew. The Doge was making the new star Lord Bart welcome.

That went on for a long time, then the Doge called Senators and Councilors forward. After each was presented he left the platform, so after a while Lucia could see. All three of the new star visitors were up on the platform with Professore Clavell and his companion. There was the black man. Lucia had never seen a black man before. And the Signorina Lorraine, thin, too thin, but she had strong muscled arms, lips very red, attractive wine-colored gown. Lucia envied her painted lips and red cheeks, and wondered if that too was a secret from the stars. The wind whipped up her gown to show her slender ankles from time to time.

Her father took her hand. “Come.”

Lucia put on her best smile as her father led her up to the platform. The Doge was seated on his great throne. He nodded greetings to her father as Councilor Fontana presented them to the star lords.

“Signor Fabiano Michaeli, Master within the Metal Forgers Guild,” Fontana said.

The star man Bart Saxon extended his hand, and her father shook it. And then, and then—!

“Signor Bart Saxon, may I present my daughter Lucia, who comes in place of her mother who is ill.”

Lucia held out her hand, and the Lord Bart took it, and raised it to his lips and kissed it! Lucia’s heart pounded.

“Welcome to our most serene city,” Lucia said. And now is the time for all my art, she thought, but then she realized she was blushing, instead. Such a handsome man! It was all she could do to contain herself.

And then Lord Bart looked at her, and smiled.

I never thought to love, Lucia told herself. I never thought to love.

She was presented to the black star man, and the Signorina Lorraine, but she hardly noticed.

* * *

Lance Clavell’s feet hurt, but at least the ceremonies were finally coming to an end. Maybe I’ll get to sit down sometime today, he thought and looked sourly at Jimmy Harrison.

Harrison nodded. No need to say anything. Clavell wrinkled his nose and wished for a cigarette. That wouldn’t be happening. The nearest tobacco was a long way off . . .

The ceremonies continued. This was one hell of a lot bigger reception than they’d thrown for Clavell and Harrison. We got presented to the Doge and some nobles in the Palace. They went the whole hog for this guy. That container, that has to be a big part of the reason. So what’s in it? Weapons? Books? Both?

But at least we finally know what’s going on, Clavell thought.

Three of them. Before the ship arrived they’d been introduced to Lorraine Sandori. They’d been separated before they could say anything important, but they had managed to exchange a few words in English. Clavell wondered if that had been a mistake. The Signory now knew that the star visitors all shared a common language, one that locals had little hope of learning. That might be important. Nothing to be done about it, of course. I’m not as clever as Harrison, Clavell thought. And neither one of us is a patch on the Skipper, but we’re all we’ve got just now.

And it might not be important at all. It’s easy to get paranoid around here. In this place, you don’t suspect there’s a plot, you know damned well there are a dozen of them! But you don’t know what the plots are, or who can tell you.

Bart Saxon. Looked like a professor. A real one, Clavell thought. And the way he and Lucia Michaeli looked at each other! Maybe nothing to that, but maybe there was, too. He didn’t know Saxon, but Clavell thought the man had looked interested—and Lucia had looked at the star lord in a way Clavell had never seen her look at anyone else. As if she’d lost control of her emotions, and that would be a very strange thing for Lucia the apprentice courtesan to do. Hard to tell, hard to tell.

Of course Lucia was all dolled up. Not unusual for her and certainly to be expected for a big shindig like this. She looked pretty good, too. Young, but a lot of girls her age were already married here. They married young, and childbed fever had a lot to do with that. So many women died in childbirth—and so many kids died in infancy—that they had to start producing babies early.

One more thing our hygiene lessons are helping with, thank God! Lance Clavell was prouder of some things than others, and that was a big one. Yeah, me and Semmelweis! You go, Lance!

It was going to take a while for custom to catch up with the new reality, though, and young Lucia was definitely of marriable age here in Nikeis. And a lot of families would think it a step up to marry a daughter to a star man, for that matter. Maybe the Michaeli family would think it was better than having her be a courtesan. It would certainly help their foundry business if this Saxon guy knew anything about modern metalworking. Clavell wished he knew more about metalworking, but he might as well wish for gold or extra ammunition . . .

The crowds were thinning out now. The Doge got up from his throne and into a sedan chair. No wading across the Palazzo for him! He was carried across the Palazzo towards his palace, his bearers wading in ankle-deep saltwater. The tide was going out now. It was always high tide just after local noon and midnight. Must be sun tide, Clavell thought. This place don’t have much of a moon. He could understand how the sun—or a moon if Tran had a large one—might pull the water up as it passed over. But why is it high tide on the other side of the world from the sun or moon? He was sure he’d been told how tides worked, but that was a long time ago and he couldn’t remember much of it.

“If you please, Professore,” Giamo said as Clavell and Harrison followed the nobles off the platform. “There will be more ceremonies in the Palace.”

Harrison grimaced, and Clavell snorted.

“I could do with a little less ceremony,” he said in English.

“Me too, man.”

Clavell looked over his shoulder toward the unfamiliar voice. Harrison was beside him, but behind them was a Black man in wilderness survival clothes that could only have come from Earth. Must be Cal Haskins, Clavell thought, smiling back at him.

“The hospitality of the Serene Republic can get a bit heavy,” he said.

“So you’re part of the Galloway outfit?” Haskins asked.

“Yes. You know about Colonel Galloway?”

“I know Saxon says we’re supposed to find him and help him grow some weed,” Haskins said. “Sounded like weed to me, anyway.”

“Super weed,” Jimmy Harrison said. “But that’s close enough. ’Cept the stuff’s nasty, a lot nastier to grow than hemp. But yeah, that’s one of the things the Skipper does, grows and harvests madweed.” No secret to that, Clavell thought. Everyone in Drantos knows it, so the Signory will know it too.

“So they sent you here to help us?” Harrison continued.

“Something like that,” Haskins said. “You reckon anyone here except us speaks English?”

“Pretty sure none of them do,” Harrison said. “They tell you where you were going? Before they picked you up, that is.” No need to explain who “they” were.

“No, I thought we were headed to Africa for the CIA,” Haskins said. “You?”

“Nope. Heh, we were already in Africa for the CIA. ’Course we didn’t have much choice,” Harrison said. “Rather come here than face the Cubans.”

“Cubans?” Haskins asked.

“Long story,” Harrison said.

Interesting, Clavell thought. He doesn’t know how we got here. Maybe his partner does?

They were well across the Palazzo and almost to the Palace now. They watched as the Doge was carried in, then the nobles followed him inside.

“You reckon we’ll ever come out of there once we go in?” Harrison asked.

“What’s all that?” Haskins asked. “Something going on I ought to know about?”

“There’s always something going on in Nikeis,” Clavell said. “And you ought to know all of it, but we can’t tell you because we don’t know much either. We didn’t even know for sure you guys were on the planet until a couple of days ago. Now you say you’re here to help the Skipper. Maybe they’ll let us talk things over after all the bullshit’s finished.”

“That’d be nice,” Harrison said. He took a deep breath. “Okay, in we go.”

* * *

The ceremonies in the Doge’s Palace were finally over, and Bart Saxon was glad enough to leave the Doge’s Palace and go to another palazzo, which he understood was where the Signory had put up Clavell and Harrison.

They crossed the city square, escorted by Councilor Torricelli. The tide had gone out during their time in the Palace, and the stones were wet and slippery. Shops were open all around the Palazzo and people sat sipping coffee or what passed for coffee here, more like tea if it was anything like what they’d given Saxon and Haskins during the receptions. Everyone watched as they went by, not even trying to hide where they were looking and some flat-out stared. Their destination was in the second layer of palaces beyond the shops of the square.

Once inside he looked around in curiosity. He decided that the great hall of Sergeant Lance Clavell’s palazzo would usually be impressive, but it looked small after the Doge’s Palace, which had proven to be huge and ornate inside and out. Still, this place is large enough, Saxon thought. And now it’s mine as well as Clavell’s. Wonder if he resents that? He regarded the lavish tapestries and hangings. The Signory were certainly treating them like honored guests. Now if they’ll just leave us alone to talk . . .

It must have been clear what he was thinking, because Councilor Torricelli bowed and spoke in Italian too rapidly for Saxon to understand. Then he and his retainers departed, leaving the star men alone in the big hall. Men, Saxon thought. Spirit had been gay enough at the reception in the Doge’s Palace, but she’d sent her regrets through Senator Avanti when they were invited to accompany Clavell and Harrison.

Is she a hostage? Or is this a mutiny? Except it wouldn’t be mutiny, she doesn’t owe me any loyalty, and whatever relationship she has with Senator Avanti sure as hell isn’t hostage and captor. Maybe she really is just tired out. It has been a damned long day. But I do wish I knew what was going on in her head. What does she want? Hell, what do I want?

He looked at the ornate decorations in the big hall and nodded in satisfaction.

“Nice place,” he told Lance Clavell. “Sure you don’t mind sharing it?”

“I don’t own it, and I’m the one that suggested you stay with us.” Clavell shrugged. “Of course it was pretty clear Torricelli’s people liked the idea. Keep us all together. Easier to guard us. He’s got a detachment outside right now.”

“Guard is fine,” Harrison muttered.

Clavell nodded and lowered his voice.

“Easier to watch us, too. And make no mistake about it, Mr. Saxon, they do watch us. Every damn minute. They won’t understand English, but they’re good at reading body language. And just be sure, someone’s watching us all the time. Including now.”

He jerked his head towards the balcony railing above them where half a dozen servants waited for anyone to show a need.

“Why?” Haskins asked, and Harrison laughed.

“Because that’s what they do, Cal. That’s what they do. Welcome to the Serene Republic.”

“Okay, they watch us. Fine by me,” Haskins said. “But what’s the rules here?”

“Damfino,” Harrison said. “Me, I’m just real careful.”

“Careful?” Haskins asked. “You mean like with the women?”

“Yeah,” Harrison said. “Some of them look available and usually aren’t, but some are safe.”

“How can you tell?”

Harrison chuckled.

“Cal, they usually make it pretty clear. My rule is, if it’s not really clear, then don’t. Use common sense.”

“Lot of them look real young.”

“Well, they marry at ten or eleven here,” Harrison said.

What?!” Saxon stared at him, and Harrison burst out laughing.

“Sorry! Sorry, man! Couldn’t resist.” The merc shook his head and wiped his eyes. “Year’s a different length here, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” Saxon shook his head and chuckled. “Got me,” he admitted, and did some quick mental math. “So seventeen or eighteen?”

“Closer to sixteen, for a lot of ’em,” Harrison said with a shrug.

Marry at sixteen, Saxon thought. Somehow that was disturbing. And did all the young girls look at men like the Michaeli girl had looked at him? She was a beauty. And they marry at sixteen . . .

“ . . . but it’s pretty soft duty here, Cal,” Harrison was saying. “Be glad you’re over here and not having a tour in the madweed fields.”

“Madweed. We’re here to help you grow madweed,” Haskins said. “Don’t know much about that, but it’s what they said we were here for. Not sure how we can help. One thing at a time, I guess.”

“The further you stay from the madweed fields the happier you’ll be,” Harrison said.

“So what’s next?” Clavell asked.

“That’s up to Bart,” Haskins said. He looked to Saxon. “He’s in charge, far as I’m concerned.”

Saxon shrugged.

“Still working on what we do down the road, but the next step’s pretty clear,” he said. “I’ve asked that they bring the latest container here. To this house. Spirit says they’ll have it here by morning, it takes a big gang of stevedores to unload it and bring it across the Palazzo, even on rollers.”

“Think that thing is safe where it is?” Harrison asked. “Maybe I ought to go down and do some guard duty around that ship tonight.”

“No signs of tampering with either of the two containers that were already here,” Haskins said. “I don’t think they can get into them things without it showing. Not sure you could stop them if they decided to just break in . . . ”

“No, I’m pretty good but I can’t do a point defense against the whole damn Serene militia,” Harrison agreed.

“And standing guard there would certainly be a sign of distrust,” Saxon said. “If you were asking me, I’d say we have to trust them.”

“You mean don’t stand guard,” Clavell said.

“Yes, that’s what I mean.”

“Just making it clear,” Harrison said. “Okay, what’s next?”

“When we get the container in here I’ll show you stuff, you tell me what we can do with it,” Saxon said. “But mostly we have to let Captain Galloway know we’re here.”

“That may be hard to do,” Harrison said. “The Signory are nice, polite, generous, but they sure as hell haven’t been letting us send messages. Or leave here. And I’m guessing that once they see what all’s in them boxes of yours they’ll be even less likely to let us go wandering off.”

“Colonel Galloway will come get us,” Clavell said.

He sounds damned positive about that, Saxon thought.

“How?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Clavell said. “But he will. The Skipper’s pretty smart. He’ll hear what’s going on. The story about the containers must be spreading all across the planet by now. If he ain’t heard it yet, he will. Soon.”

“You know, I reckon that’s right,” Harrison said. “I don’t know if Galloway gives a rat’s ass about us, but he’s for damned sure going to want to know about all that stuff once he hears about it, and you say a lot of people over on the mainland got a look at those containers. He’ll find out about them. The Colonel won’t know what’s in them boxes, but he’ll sure as shit figure there’s a lot. So yeah, he’ll be showing up.”

The private sat back for a moment, looking thoughtful as he considered the possibilities.

“So what is in those boxes?” he asked then. “Guns and ammo? Sergeant Clavell’s student kids told us you say that’s not what’s in there. Not sure how they know that, but it’s what they say. So what is in there?”

Saxon went to the side table and poured himself a glass of claret. Everyone drank wine here. It would be easy to get drunk and stay that way. The interesting thing was that the one night he’d had too much of the stuff, it wasn’t much fun. I’d rather have water. Maybe I’m growing up? That took thinking about, and he hadn’t really had time to think on it. The sense of having a mission, of a reason for living, was still growing in him, eating through the stagnation of his year in the Tenderloin. Life was interesting again. Humans, in need of education. In need of Bart Saxon. A scary thought, but nowhere near as scary as living in the Tenderloin for the rest of his life. And nobody on this planet knew about registered sex offenders.

“Whatever they know they got from Miss Spirit, not me,” Haskins was saying. The others looked at Saxon, and he nodded in agreement.

“Not from me, either. Had to be Lorraine. Not sure how much they understand of what she told them.”

“A lot. My students were asking me about microscopes so I figure there’s one of those. So what else did you bring?” Clavell asked impatiently.

“Books and information, mostly. A whole library of books, books about everything. Physics, electronics, biology, you name it. As to equipment, laptop computers, windmill power generator. Bicycle power generator, too. Some radios. Some tools. Scientific instruments. Not much in the way of guns and ammo.”

“What’s a laptop computer?”

“Just what it sounds like, a personal computer you can carry around with you,” Saxon said. “That whole field has advanced a lot since you left Earth.”

“I can see that,” Clavell said.

“Radios,” Harrison said. “The skipper will be damned interested in radios.”

“Only handheld units,” Haskins said. “Not more’n a few miles’ range.”

“A few miles is one hell of a lot better than no miles,” Harrison said with a chuckle.

“Encyclopedia?” Clavell asked, ignoring the byplay.

“Three, including Britannica,” Saxon said with a nod.

“Industrial Revolution on the half shell,” Clavell said, and Saxon laughed.

“Yeah, I suppose it is, once I teach them how to read English.”

“Only, from what I hear, the Shalnuksis don’t cotton to that idea,” Harrison said. “They bomb the shit out of anyplace on the planet that looks like it’s developing technology. That’s what the skipper used to say. Maybe we better think hard about what you do with that stuff.”

“What’s that? You say we’re not supposed to teach these people?” Haskins frowned. “But that’s what the inspector told us they wanted us to do!”

“And Colonel Galloway tells us to be careful what we teach,” Harrison said. “We was sent out here to teach and preach about public health, but we’re supposed to be careful about technology. Here you bring the whole Industrial Revolution in one package.”

“I don’t know what to think,” Saxon said. “I mean, they sent us with a bunch of useless stuff if they don’t want me teaching them. But on the other hand, Cal”—he looked at his friend—“he did say helping Galloway’s the main job. Might not be a bad idea to get his take on all this before we go around starting any scientific revolutions?”

“Hey, like I said, you’re the boss, man!” Haskins said with a laugh. “You wanna throw on the brakes, though, you better be telling that Spirit lady. If it ain’t already too late. She’s telling everyone what a new day this is going to be. Started already, that’s for sure.”

“We agreed not to open the containers unless we were all present,” Saxon said. “And I have the keys.”

“And she’s got number two in her living room,” Haskins said. “And she’s anxious to open it.”

“Okay, so we all get together and open them up to see what’s inside. Admire the contents,” Clavell said. “And then what?”

Saxon shrugged.

“I was recruited to come here and teach science to smart but uneducated kids,” he said. “That’s what I volunteered to do, anyway. It turns out that the real mission is to help Galloway grow crops for export, but teaching science is what I know how to do, and like I said, if they didn’t mean for me to do that, why send all this equipment?”

“Not sure that’s what the Skipper’ll want you to do,” Clavell said, “but what the hell. If you want to teach, you came to the right place. The Serene Republic, that is. There’s plenty of students, they all want to know stuff, and nobody’s against learning. Not like some places. One town on the mainland, we had to shoot our way out. Turns out the local priest was sure we were sending everyone to hell by teaching hygiene. Disease is God’s Will, and it’s a mortal sin to prevent it. None of that bullshit here, at least I haven’t seen any. Sure none in my classes. Everyone wants to learn.”

“Maybe not a fair sample,” Harrison muttered.

“Well, no,” Clavell said. “But it’s who the Signory picked.”

“Who are your students?” Saxon asked. He frowned as Haskins poured himself a third glass of wine. Probably no harm in it, but . . . “Who did they send?”

“Mostly younger nobility,” Clavell said. “Some upper middle class. Mostly boys, four girls. Everyone here is used to being in school. They all have to take military training, for one thing, and the upper-class kids have schools for that. All the boys. But there’s girl schools, too. That’s mostly housekeeping and cooking and home economics, some music, but there’s girls in the merchant business too. You met one of the girls in my class when you landed.”

“Ah. I remember. Lucia. She’s easy to remember.”

“Yep. Pretty thing. She wants to be a courtesan.”

Saxon frowned, and Clavell laughed.

“Apparently it’s not all that frowned on as a profession for middle-class girls here.”

“She seemed a bit young.”

“I told you, they marry at about sixteen here, and she’s actually a little older’n that, I think.” Clavell grimaced, recalling his earlier thoughts in the Palazzo. “I think some of that’s because their medicine’s so primitive. Lose a lot of mothers to childbirth fever. That’s getting better since the Colonel started introducing the idea that germs are behind infections. It’s going to take a while for the social patterns to change, though, even if the Nikeisians start applying the lessons big-time.”

“That young?”

Saxon frowned. Despite the incident with Sherry Northing, he’d never been remotely tempted to fool around with any of his students before disaster struck. He hadn’t been blind to how attractive some of them had been, but they’d never attracted him. Not until Sherry, and he’d been drunk that night. Drunk and angry and stupid. Not only that, he’d genuinely thought she was at least nineteen. Or at least, that was what he’d been telling himself. But that Lucia . . .

God, maybe I did have a thing for younger girls all along and never realized it! Am I a “dirty old man”? The thought was more than a little disturbing, especially after all this time. But I am not going to screw up that way again. It’s just

“Younger’n that, a lot of them.” Clavell’s reply to his question pulled him out of his thoughts, for which he was grateful. Or he thought he was, anyway.

“So your students haven’t been what you might call a sample of the general population,” he said, getting himself safely back to the original thread. “Don’t know how I feel about that.”

“Way it is.” Clavell shrugged. “Oh, not back at the Colonel’s University, but here in Nikeis—and just about everywhere else on the planet, for that matter—them as has gets, and them as don’t have don’t. Can’t say I’m crazy about it, either, but things are gonna have to change a lot before we get to what you might call equal opportunity on Tran.”

Saxon was about to comment on that when one of the servants rushed in.

“Councilor Torricelli,” the servant announced. “His Honor says the matter is urgent and begs immediate audience.”

“His daughter is in my class, too,” Clavell said. “Okay, Bart, I think we need to meet with the Councilor. You agree?”

Now what? And just who’s in charge? And of whom? Saxon looked to Clavell and shrugged.

“Bring him in,” Clavell said.

Torricelli was red-faced. He spoke rapidly in the mainland trade language, stopping to repeat himself often when Saxon looked confused.

“We have messages from our scouts in the north,” he said. “My pardon, Signori. I wish you greetings and good health—”

“Consider the formalities served,” Clavell said. “You have urgent news, Councilor?”

“Indeed,” Torricelli said, and launched back into his voluble explanation. He spoke far too rapidly for Saxon to follow, but Clavell nodded. Then he turned to Saxon and Haskins.

“He says this comes from a scout patrol ship from up north,” he said in English. “There are pirates there and they’ve joined up with the naval forces of the Five Kingdoms. A fleet is assembling. A large fleet, of pirates and Five Kingdoms ships, acting together. And because of the alliance with Drantos, the Serene Republic is at war with the Five Kingdoms.”

Saxon frowned.

“Fivers and pirates,” Harrison said. “That can’t be good. Ganton’s at war with the Five, and Nikeis is an ally of Ganton. Not so close an ally as they used to be, but I bet it gets a lot closer now that the Signori need us.”

Torricelli’s distress was obvious. He spoke rapidly in Italian, slowing down when Clavell protested. Saxon couldn’t understand three consecutive words, but after a while Clavell nodded.

“The Five Kingdoms, a pirate group, and the Grand Duchy of Riccigiona,” Clavell translated.

“What the hell is that?” Harrison demanded. “I never heard of it.”

“I have, just barely,” Clavell said. “Small northern outfit. Trees, mountains, seaport, neutral outfit so they tell me. Used to be neutral, anyway. Councilor Torricelli says they have ships and a trained army. Now they’re all in one big alliance, and they’re merging their fleets.”

Torricelli spoke rapidly again. Clavell nodded.

“There’s only one goal such an alliance would seek,” he translated.

“And we’re it?” Saxon asked, and Clavell nodded yet again, his expression unhappy.

“Looks that way.” He listened as Torricelli spoke again, this time not as rapidly. “Five hundred ships. Possibly more,” Clavell said.

“That’s not good.”

“It gets worse,” Clavell said. “It gets a lot worse.”

“What do you mean?” Saxon demanded.

“I mean that they’re scared,” Clavell said. “The Signori are scared. Their harbor defenses aren’t so good now, what with the water level rising. Once an enemy gets in the lagoon there’s not much to stop them from coming right to the main island. I hope you brought some ammo, Bart, because it looks like we’re going to need it.”


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