"You see what we're up against," Kiel concluded, forming a fist. Her dark complexion flushed. "Sure, we Rads are also proposing big changes, but in the opposite direction! We'd redirect life on Stratos toward more normal modes for a human species . . . toward a world right for people, not beehives from pole to pole."
"You'd take us back to when men were . . . fifty percent?"
Laughter broke Kiel's earnest scowl. "Oh, we're not that crazy! For now, our near-term goal is only to unfreeze the political process. Get some debate going. Put more than a few token summerling reps on the High Council. Surely that's worth supporting, whatever you think of our long-range dreams?"
"Well . . ."
"Maia, I'd love to be able to tell the others you're with us."
Kiel was trying to meet her eyes. Maia preferred looking away. She paused for a long moment, then gave a quick half-nod.
"Not yet. But I'll . . . listen to the rest."
"That's all we can ask." Kiel clapped her on the shoulder. "In time, I hope you'll find it in your heart to forgive us for stupidly underestimating you. That'll be the last time, I promise.
"And meanwhile, since you've shown yourself to be such a woman of action, who better to choose as our guest's bodyguard, eh? You'd keep a special eye on him. Prevent anyone from slipping things into his feed, as we did at Grange Head! What better way to make sure we stay honest? Does that sound acceptable to you?"
Kiel was being wry, but the offer appeared genuine. Maia answered with grudging respect. "Acceptable," she I said in a low voice. It was irritating to know that Kiel could read her like a book.
Game tokens lay scattered across the cover of the cargo hold — small black and white tiles with whiskerlike sensors protruding from their sides and corners. At first, Renna had marveled how each piece was built to meticulous precision. But, after spending all morning winding one after another of the-watchspring mechanisms, some of the romance went out of contemplating them. Fortunately, the efficient gadgets needed just a few twists with a winding key. Nevertheless, Renna and Maia had only finished prepping half of the sixteen hundred game pieces by the time lunch was called.
How do I keep getting talked into weird stuff like this? Maia wondered as she got up and stretched her throbbing arms. I'll be a wreck by evening. Still, it beat peeling vegetables, or the other "light work" tasks she'd been assigned since being let out. And the prospect of her first formal Life match had Maia intrigued, if not exactly breathless.
Maia dutifully supervised the dishing out of Renna's food, making sure it came from the common pot and that the utensils were clean. Not that anyone expected an assassination attempt way out here on the Mother Ocean. More likely, someone on the crew might try to dope him, just to stanch the endless flow of alien questions. It was always easy to find Renna on board. Just look for a disturbance in the sailors' routine. On the quarterdeck, for instance, where Captain Poulandres and his officers took on harried looks after long sessions of amiable inquiry. Or teetering precariously, high in the rigging, peering over sailors' shoulders as they worked, thoroughly upsetting the protective pair, Thalia and Kiel, who watched anxiously below.
When Renna mentioned his curiosity how the Game of Life was played at sea, Poulandres seized a chance to divert the strange passenger's attention. A challenge match would take place that very evening. Renna and Maia against the senior cabin boy and junior cook.
Hey, Maia thought at the time. Did anyone hear me volunteer?
Not that she really minded, even when her wrists ached from the endless, repetitive twisting. A fresh east wind filled Manitou's electric generator and stretched its billowing sails, causing the masts to creak gently under the strain. It also filled Maia's lungs with growing hope. Maybe things are going to work out, this time.
I'm going to see Landing Continent.
If only Leie were here, so we could see it together.
Unlike the creaky, old Wotan, this was a fast vessel, built to carry light cargoes and passengers. Its sailors were well-accoutered, befitting members of a prestigious guild. Cabin boys, newly chosen from their mother clans, ran errands with enthusiastic dash. Maia found the officers' uniformed splendor both impressive and more than a little pompous.
After her spell in Long Valley, where men had been scarcer than red lugars, it seemed strange now, living with so many around. Her experience with, the Beller drug undermined Maia's confidence in winter's sure promise of male docility. What was it like before Lysos? she wondered. You never knew which men were dangerous, or when.
