various "magic" techniques they'd developed. The one to get the bugs off the gardens was especially appreciated. They'd given up on the first fields outside their walls.
The river was sluggish enough for him to paddle up it with little trouble. He traveled from village to village, rarely staying longer than a week, teaching anyone who was interested all the "spells" they had worked out, and learned a few new ones. He kept a journal, and drew maps, kept a rough census. And he noted how many of the settlers were genetically engineered, and how many powered. They'd stopped automatically inserting the power genes over a decade ago, so the number of . . . Lord he hated using the terms Witch and Mage. The number of kids who would be strong telies tapered off at twelve years of age, but then the second generation, and even a few third generation children started filling the gaps. Rather a lot of the powered children had been abandoned by their parents and were living in groups in the big cylindrical buses.
"You look worried." The local doctor eased down to a seat on a rock near his.
"Well, perhaps a bit apprehensive. But maybe I should be hopeful, instead. As a group to strand away from modern society, we're pretty good. Lots of us with strengthened immune systems and so forth. I'm wondering what the next few generations will be like, though."
Another man chuckled, as he joined them. "And no prejudice against the engineered. I'm not, but I got a slew of things fixed in my kids. My wife died of cancer, but my kids and grandkids won't. They're smarter than I am, they'll be taller and better looking. And they still manage to look a bit like Vera, and if you squint really hard, me. Very prettied up."
Another man snickered. "And so many of us are doctors! I swear, every village must have one or two."
"And lawyers." The doctor shook his head. "You can see them sweating, resisting the impulse to sue the hunters on behalf of the wildebeests." There was general laughter, and they sat and talked as the sun dropped to the horizon. Then they all migrated back inside the walls. Food and drink started showing up, and the speculation on the future continued. All in all they were minimally bothered by the thought of being marooned here.
Damn good neighbors.
As were the other villages.
"If those lions mean this is Africa, then the straights of Gibraltar are closed." This village had decided to go for the Medieval feel, and elected a High Sheriff. A big genial man who'd come with his two children and three grandchildren.
His wife rolled her eyes. "It's a different world. We ought to give the continents different names."
"It's supposed to be a parallel Earth," the High Sheriff returned, stubbornly. "Those bullies we kicked out, they came to be near the beacon. Talking all the time about parallel worlds, and which one they wanted to move to. Most of them wanted to go back to Earth."
Harry bit his lip. " Earth? Who were they?"
" Parents, adults who'd had a breakup with an engineered spouse, or walked away from kids who were engineered. Older brothers and sisters, who'd been dragged along. People who ought not to have come in the first place."
" So far, there has been sixteen women and twenty-five men." The wife smiled ruefully. "With such a small population, I tend to keep an eye on the gender balance here. So I noticed it with them. They weren't balanced at all."
"Which worries me." The High Sheriff frowned. "I'd hate to see them start raiding for food or women. "
" In any case, that first group talked about the beacon, about how they'd go back home, as soon as the gate opened." The wife made a face. "I figure we did Earth a favor, taking them away, but frankly, I'd druther they'd been left behind. They've settled south of here, I think, through the hills and out on the Atlantic coast."
"With luck, the government will get the gate working again, without you gods, and they can all go back." The High Sheriff grimaced. "I doubt it will
The river was sluggish enough for him to paddle up it with little trouble. He traveled from village to village, rarely staying longer than a week, teaching anyone who was interested all the "spells" they had worked out, and learned a few new ones. He kept a journal, and drew maps, kept a rough census. And he noted how many of the settlers were genetically engineered, and how many powered. They'd stopped automatically inserting the power genes over a decade ago, so the number of . . . Lord he hated using the terms Witch and Mage. The number of kids who would be strong telies tapered off at twelve years of age, but then the second generation, and even a few third generation children started filling the gaps. Rather a lot of the powered children had been abandoned by their parents and were living in groups in the big cylindrical buses.
"You look worried." The local doctor eased down to a seat on a rock near his.
"Well, perhaps a bit apprehensive. But maybe I should be hopeful, instead. As a group to strand away from modern society, we're pretty good. Lots of us with strengthened immune systems and so forth. I'm wondering what the next few generations will be like, though."
Another man chuckled, as he joined them. "And no prejudice against the engineered. I'm not, but I got a slew of things fixed in my kids. My wife died of cancer, but my kids and grandkids won't. They're smarter than I am, they'll be taller and better looking. And they still manage to look a bit like Vera, and if you squint really hard, me. Very prettied up."
Another man snickered. "And so many of us are doctors! I swear, every village must have one or two."
"And lawyers." The doctor shook his head. "You can see them sweating, resisting the impulse to sue the hunters on behalf of the wildebeests." There was general laughter, and they sat and talked as the sun dropped to the horizon. Then they all migrated back inside the walls. Food and drink started showing up, and the speculation on the future continued. All in all they were minimally bothered by the thought of being marooned here.
Damn good neighbors.
As were the other villages.
"If those lions mean this is Africa, then the straights of Gibraltar are closed." This village had decided to go for the Medieval feel, and elected a High Sheriff. A big genial man who'd come with his two children and three grandchildren.
His wife rolled her eyes. "It's a different world. We ought to give the continents different names."
"It's supposed to be a parallel Earth," the High Sheriff returned, stubbornly. "Those bullies we kicked out, they came to be near the beacon. Talking all the time about parallel worlds, and which one they wanted to move to. Most of them wanted to go back to Earth."
Harry bit his lip. " Earth? Who were they?"
" Parents, adults who'd had a breakup with an engineered spouse, or walked away from kids who were engineered. Older brothers and sisters, who'd been dragged along. People who ought not to have come in the first place."
" So far, there has been sixteen women and twenty-five men." The wife smiled ruefully. "With such a small population, I tend to keep an eye on the gender balance here. So I noticed it with them. They weren't balanced at all."
"Which worries me." The High Sheriff frowned. "I'd hate to see them start raiding for food or women. "
" In any case, that first group talked about the beacon, about how they'd go back home, as soon as the gate opened." The wife made a face. "I figure we did Earth a favor, taking them away, but frankly, I'd druther they'd been left behind. They've settled south of here, I think, through the hills and out on the Atlantic coast."
"With luck, the government will get the gate working again, without you gods, and they can all go back." The High Sheriff grimaced. "I doubt it will
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