heed.
“At the moment, however, I am open to suggestions, Commander,” the prelate concluded.
Joab nodded grimly. “I’ll garrison the Escarpment strongholds with Regulars. Set the Scouts free to roam. We’ll need more supplies, and I have to secure a Valley water source. That means somebody’s water rights on the second plateau will have to be requisitioned. And we may as well requisition their fields as a way station, because it’ll be no good for grain.”
“I believe I can find funds in the temple coffers to cover such a requisition.”
“It’s still going to scare the hell out of the landowners.”
“As well it should.”
“I’m also going to need more Scouts. That means recruiting Delta elements. Unsavory sorts. I’ll keep them out of Hestinga proper as much as possible.”
“Yes, do.” Zilkovsky had a definite opinion about the social worth of Scouts, it seemed, no matter how much he might value their abilities. He nodded toward Abel. “And I would think twice about letting this young man associate with them overmuch.”
“Pardon me, Mr. Prelate, but I know my place,” Abel said. “And so do they when they’re around me. We are not of the same blood, but I can handle it.”
Zilkovsky smiled thinly. “That may well be. But remember: all Scouts are borderline heretics. Heretics are hated of Zentrum, the same as infidel Redlanders. They’re outside the Law. And when you’re outside the Law, you’re outside the Stasis. And when you’re outside the Stasis…well, you are outside the Land itself.”
Abel started to reply, but thought better of it. He met the priest’s steady gaze as best he could.
“Here’s the real lesson I want you to learn from your recent adventures, Abel Dashian, son of Joab. You come from a fine line of soldiers on your father’s side. I don’t have to tell you the high standing of your departed mother’s family in Lindron. There is a clear path ahead of you to high command. Maybe even a place among the Temple Guardians one day.”
Zilkovsky leaned closer to Abel. A stray breeze from the fan caught the thin strings of hair on his scalp and lifted them up for a moment like a riding dont’s feathery crest. “So, my young friend, don’t fuck it up with heresy.”
PART TWO:
The Powder
1
Bruneberg had not begun as a settlement, much less a town. It started as a scattering of unrelated clumps of families, a congregation of tribal settlements that had congealed in the area of the first cataract of the River, the cataract nearest the broad plain into which the River spilled itself after a thousand-league journey down its self-carved valley from the glacial drip of the Schnee Mountains. The Schnee were invisible from Bruneberg. They were over the horizon of northeast or, as all the Land referred to that cardinal direction: up-River.
The Collapse here was quite literal , Center explained. The River cuts through the alluvial remnants of an ancient mountain chain in this area, and as a result, the Valley constricts to a few leagues across. Duisberg’s original settlers found it a good place to build a dam to compound water for irrigation and recreational purposes. It burst, and the rocks of the cataracts are the remains of its duracrete masonry.
But a dam doesn’t need nishterlaub technology to stay in place, Abel thought. We have dams all over the place today.
A good example of why the Galactic Collapse was so complete and all-obliterating, Center replied. If the Duisberg colonists had built their dam of rebar and concrete, it would still be here to this day. Instead, they relied on exotic molecular configurations held in place by molecule-by-molecule algorithmic maintenance.
So they built a dam that could be infected by the Plague, did they? Raj’s rough and bitter laugh echoed in Abel’s mind. The wonder isn’t that the Empire of Man fell to ruin, but that it lasted as long as it did. It’s as if we built a Blood Wind into the very ground beneath our
“At the moment, however, I am open to suggestions, Commander,” the prelate concluded.
Joab nodded grimly. “I’ll garrison the Escarpment strongholds with Regulars. Set the Scouts free to roam. We’ll need more supplies, and I have to secure a Valley water source. That means somebody’s water rights on the second plateau will have to be requisitioned. And we may as well requisition their fields as a way station, because it’ll be no good for grain.”
“I believe I can find funds in the temple coffers to cover such a requisition.”
“It’s still going to scare the hell out of the landowners.”
“As well it should.”
“I’m also going to need more Scouts. That means recruiting Delta elements. Unsavory sorts. I’ll keep them out of Hestinga proper as much as possible.”
“Yes, do.” Zilkovsky had a definite opinion about the social worth of Scouts, it seemed, no matter how much he might value their abilities. He nodded toward Abel. “And I would think twice about letting this young man associate with them overmuch.”
“Pardon me, Mr. Prelate, but I know my place,” Abel said. “And so do they when they’re around me. We are not of the same blood, but I can handle it.”
Zilkovsky smiled thinly. “That may well be. But remember: all Scouts are borderline heretics. Heretics are hated of Zentrum, the same as infidel Redlanders. They’re outside the Law. And when you’re outside the Law, you’re outside the Stasis. And when you’re outside the Stasis…well, you are outside the Land itself.”
Abel started to reply, but thought better of it. He met the priest’s steady gaze as best he could.
“Here’s the real lesson I want you to learn from your recent adventures, Abel Dashian, son of Joab. You come from a fine line of soldiers on your father’s side. I don’t have to tell you the high standing of your departed mother’s family in Lindron. There is a clear path ahead of you to high command. Maybe even a place among the Temple Guardians one day.”
Zilkovsky leaned closer to Abel. A stray breeze from the fan caught the thin strings of hair on his scalp and lifted them up for a moment like a riding dont’s feathery crest. “So, my young friend, don’t fuck it up with heresy.”
PART TWO:
The Powder
1
Bruneberg had not begun as a settlement, much less a town. It started as a scattering of unrelated clumps of families, a congregation of tribal settlements that had congealed in the area of the first cataract of the River, the cataract nearest the broad plain into which the River spilled itself after a thousand-league journey down its self-carved valley from the glacial drip of the Schnee Mountains. The Schnee were invisible from Bruneberg. They were over the horizon of northeast or, as all the Land referred to that cardinal direction: up-River.
The Collapse here was quite literal , Center explained. The River cuts through the alluvial remnants of an ancient mountain chain in this area, and as a result, the Valley constricts to a few leagues across. Duisberg’s original settlers found it a good place to build a dam to compound water for irrigation and recreational purposes. It burst, and the rocks of the cataracts are the remains of its duracrete masonry.
But a dam doesn’t need nishterlaub technology to stay in place, Abel thought. We have dams all over the place today.
A good example of why the Galactic Collapse was so complete and all-obliterating, Center replied. If the Duisberg colonists had built their dam of rebar and concrete, it would still be here to this day. Instead, they relied on exotic molecular configurations held in place by molecule-by-molecule algorithmic maintenance.
So they built a dam that could be infected by the Plague, did they? Raj’s rough and bitter laugh echoed in Abel’s mind. The wonder isn’t that the Empire of Man fell to ruin, but that it lasted as long as it did. It’s as if we built a Blood Wind into the very ground beneath our
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