Darkness came more slowly in the city of tents, because it was higher ground and no trees blocked the sky. Fortis and George had slipped into the academy, one of two permanent structures in the area. The ancient stone building was simple, though quite large. They had been placed in a room on the third floor, and Fortis sat on the tiny balcony. The wind was cool, but the night dampness had not yet begun. His mind swam in that wide ocean again.
Some part of him remembered to absorb his environment. The wind across the low peaked roof of slate made odd noises. He could have sworn he heard for a moment something like the sound he recalled the sails making during their long voyage from the pole. Was that movement on the roof?
Too slowly he turned to look, and faced the glint of a Gauss weapon in the hands of a shadow on the roof above him. Fortis froze.
The shadow spoke in a stage whisper. “Good idea. I have no intention of harming you, so not moving will keep me from having to think about it. Step over here to the railing.”
Fortis moved slowly to the place where the roof met the framework of the balcony. The shadow climbed down and sat on the railing next to him. Somehow, the Gauss weapon never strayed from pointing at him. He was now just a few feet from the barrel.
The shadow removed his cowl. Fortis was hardly surprised to see the fake hunter from the village. “Your hunters just about finished me back there in the woods. I wish I could recruit them, but I don’t have time for such things.” He seemed quite relaxed, almost friendly. “They deserved their awards. And you aren’t such a slouch yourself. Past your prime and you still manage to keep up with everyone else, load and all. I’m impressed.”
Fortis was not sure how genuine such praise could be. But the weapon was relaxed, and the man leaned near him, as if he feared nothing at all.
“Again, this has nothing to do with hurting you, or anyone else. I decided to take a chance and just talk. Frankly, if you wanted to run back inside, I would not stop you. What I hope for is just your ears for a few minutes. I want you to hear an honest account of the other side.”
Fortis sighed, then said quietly, “I’m listening.”
“Good. I knew you were too intelligent to swallow everything you hear without a few questions. This isn’t some evil cabal plotting to take over Misty. We just want a chance to be heard, and so far, no one will listen. We are shot on sight, mostly.”
“So I’ve heard,” Fortis agreed.
“That part was true enough. All we really want is for someone to consider the safety of our paradise here. We have no standing army, and the few troops we have are tied down. Most of the rangers are tied up chasing punks or preventing prisoners escaping the northern islands.”
Fortis bit his tongue to keep from asking about that.
The man continued. “It’s gotten pretty tough, lately. Quite a few are getting much closer to escaping. My associates are catching more and more of them trying to slip across the open water to the deserts. Twice in the past year, they chased little groups across the plateaus, even though letting them go would have left them to die in the desert. No man on this planet can carry enough water to make it.
“So what’s going to happen if the outsiders send their troops? You know better than I do. Rangers are stretched too thin. Don’t you think we need some effective defense to keep ourselves safe? If nothing else, let them see a deterrent force at the pole. All we are asking is that the first shipments include some more weapons, better stuff that work here, like the old chemical explosive based rifles. They make these” — holding up the Gauss short rifle — “look like toys. We know they can be made, and we are sure they’ll work here. With no energy weapons working here, we would always have the upper hand.”
Fortis placed the fingers of one hand on his chin, resting the elbow in the other hand. He hoped he looked a lot more relaxed than he felt. “I suppose you would recruit men like the twins as part of your larger ranger force.”
“Yes. We can surely afford to field a couple of new regiments. Of course, it would require a central command to run it, but this planet has more than enough wealth to support at least that many. We just need an independent force so the sheiks will quit hindering our efforts to protect the planet. They keep finding unimportant errands for us, like they don’t have enough slaves running around.”
Fortis was pretty sure this was not entirely accurate, but let it pass. “I suppose you have something you’d like me to do.”
“Of course. Just take me back with you. I’m sure your ship has room, no?”
Fortis juggled the risks, then decided honesty was the best answer. “There is room. However, the ship is going to leave without me, so there might be plenty of room for you.”
“What?” The man stared hard at Fortis.
“I estimate within twelve or thirteen days, Elder Bradley will reach the ship with a device which will instruct it to leave immediately without me. I can’t imagine you’ll get there fast enough to do any good.”
The man froze, staring. Then he jerked upright at the sound of door handle rattling. With a quickness that left Fortis staring, the man jumped back up onto the roof and disappeared over the peak. A few seconds later, something like a kite rose almost invisible in the night air. With its dark fabric, Fortis barely made out the shape, as it filled with air, then drifted away.
George’s face peeked around the door. “I’m going to bed…” He stepped out hurriedly. “Are you unwell? What has made you so pale?”
“Our fake hunter came to visit.” Fortis still stared off into the dark over the peak of the roof. “I didn’t know the kites could be used as gliders.”
George looked, too. “It’s extremely risky. Only a very few can afford the time to master them. Most who try end up dead or maimed. It began as a way to gain elevation for human eyes with the rangers. But the winds aloft are very unstable compared to what we experience with sails and windmills. A skilled wind-rider must face the wind, rise to altitude, and as soon as it starts bucking and before collapsing they must glide downward a ways, then repeat the process. It’s exhausting, so just a few kilometers is about the limit for most.”
They stepped inside the little room. George continued, “Did you have a nice conversation?”
Fortis looked just a little sheepish. “I told him the ship was leaving when Elder Bradley got to it.”
George smiled. “I suppose now is as good a time as any for him to learn that. If he were able to muster the incredible endurance, he just might fly there that fast with his glider kite, but the winds won’t give him much of a lift down near the pole. He would have to approach in a very wide circle, making at least a couple of loops around the polar island. So it’s not likely any man could get there, and Bradley would surely try to kill him before he landed. He’s a much better archer than I.”
George stepped into the hall and called someone as he walked, then thumped down the stairs. Fortis stayed in the room, staring out the window at the eternally starless sky of Misty. He could hear George talking to whomever answered his call. The ranger captain might easily escape, but there was little he could do now. Perhaps this would shut down all their plans? He hoped so.
