KIM BALDWIN

"Her...crisply written action scenes, juxtaposition of plotlines, and smart dialogue make this a story the reader will absolutely enjoy and long remember." - Arlene Germain, book reviewer for the Lambda Book Report and the Midwest Book Review

Hunter's Pursuit is a "...fierce first novel, an action-packed thriller pitting deadly professional killers against each other. Baldwin's fast-paced plot comes...leavened, as every intelligent adventure novel's excesses ought to be, with some lovin'. Even as she fends off her killers,…the heroine…finds the woman she wants by her side - and in her bed." - Richard Labonte, Book Marks, Q Syndicate, May 2005

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ROSE BEECHAM

"…a mystery writer with a delightful sense of humor, as well as an eye for an interesting array of characters…" - MegaScene

"…her characters seem fully capable of walking away from the particulars of whodunit and engaging the reader in other aspects of their lives." - Lambda Book Report

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JANE FLETCHER

"…a natural gift for rich storytelling and world-building…one of the best fantasy writers at work today." - Jean Stewart, author of the Isis series

"In The Walls of Westernfort, Fletcher spins a captivating story about youthful idealism, honor, and courage. The action is fast paced and the characters are compelling in this gripping sci-fiadventure." - Reader Raves, BookWoman 2005

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THE TEMPLE AT LANDFALL

PART ONE

1 March 536

CHAPTERELEVEN- A JOB THE SISTERSWANT DOING

o paths led through the mountains this far west. The line of

mounted soldiers had to pick their way forward as best they could, over moorlands blanketed in spiky, knee-high grass and through wooded valleys where the tangle of branches forced them to dismount and hack a way through, leading the horses on foot. July was blazing into August, summer reaching its height, hot and dry. The grass was parched yellow. The wind picked up a choking haze of dust that left the skin feeling gritty within minutes. Leaves on trees sagged limp, waiting for the relief of autumn rain, but still the mountain peaks high above glittered white with their caps of snow.

Evening was drawing near as the company traveled up a long, narrow valley beside the banks of a slow-moving river winding sinuously through the woodland. Stumpy trees overhung the water on both sides, less dense than in some other parts, but still making for difficult progress. At last, the head of the column reached a broad open tract set in a loop of the river, the largest patch of green grass they had encountered for days. Virtually the whole line was out in the open when the rider in the lead turned to confer briefly with the woman at her side. A subordinate who took her instructions wheeled her horse around and shouted, "Company, halt! Pitch camp. Officers report for briefing in an hour."

The effect of the order rippled down the line. Horses turned left and right, women slipped out of the saddle, packs were pulled down and opened, and the disciplined column drifted apart like a plume of smoke in a soft breeze, slowly spreading across the width of the open space. The motion appeared haphazard to a first glance, but patterns did emerge, most noticeable was the separation of the Guards in red and gold from the smaller, less conspicuous section of Rangers.

This latter group was definitely in the minority, outnumbered three to one. Their numbers seemed even less significant once they dispersed into the cover of trees on the edge of the clearing. The horses were unsaddled at the point where the valley walls began to rise, before being sent to graze on the green beside the river. The Guards, though, were preparing to bivouac on the open grass, on land lying a couple of meters below the site the Rangers had chosen.

Lieutenant Coppelli oversaw the setting of the Rangers' camp, although the experienced women needed little instruction, merely the detailing of a few unfortunates to the less popular tasks. She spared a cheery glance for the Guards, who were clearly far less happy with outdoor living. Their ineptitude had provided hours of amusement for the Rangers during the first days on the trail and could still raise a smile. Then she turned back, scanning the women moving under the trees until she finally spotted the person she wanted, standing shovel in hand, about to start digging the fire pit for cooking.

"Private Ramon. Leave that. Someone else can do it. I want you to come with me."

Kim paused for a moment, looking pensively at the shovel before stabbing it into the ground and walking over to join the lieutenant. The pair climbed the steep side of the valley in silence, not speaking until they stood on an outcrop of rock high above the campsite by the river where they could peer down on the activity: the grooming of horses, the setting out of bedding, the erection of Major Rozek's tent, and the first plumes of smoke from cooking fires.

At last Kim spoke. "You don't have to keep shielding me from heavy duties. My back was completely healed weeks ago."

"Yes...well. You have to allow me something for feeling guilty since I'm lieutenant and you're not. And anyway, I did have valid reasons for bringing you up here. You've got the best eye for trouble in the squadron. What do you make of the campsite?"

Kim laughed softly. "It's not the spot I'd have chosen."

"Same here, and I suspect the major is already starting to question her decision." A cheerful glint lit Chip's eyes as she looked down on the half-assembled tent. "She probably thought the Goddess had especially cleared a little picnic site for her and never stopped to think that the absence of trees might mean the ground was waterlogged. The sun has dried off the surface for now, but it will seep up at night. I'm afraid her girls are going to be soaked by morning."

"It was really mean of us to lay claim to the high ground without warning them." Despite the words, Kim's voice held not a trace of guilt.

Chip matched her grin before asking in more business-like tones, "Aside from the damp, what do you make of it defensively?"

"Pretty poor. Anyone could creep close through the undergrowth. The Guards will make wonderful targets out in the open, with their nice red tunics. Bandits could polish off a few and then slip away again. And you can work that out as easily as me."

"But what would you do about it?"

Kim studied the valley thoughtfully. "Apart from move? I'd put sentries there, there, there and there." Her finger pointed out the locations. "It would cover the most likely spots for archers, though it's nowhere close to attack-proof. In order to achieve that, you'd have to put the entire squadron on sentry duty, and we'd all be done in by morning."

Chip pulled a wry grin. "I always sleep best with the knowledge I could be murdered in my bed."

"Assuming there are actually some bandits out here," Kim said skeptically.

"You have doubts?"

"Don't you?"

"Well..." Chip's face wrinkled. "I know something doesn't hang right. I mean, when have they ever sent Guards after a bunch of outlaws? And there's nearly a hundred of them, plus our squadron, but you never get more than a dozen outlaws in a gang. I'd love to know what Captain LeCoup would say about it."

"Probably something unrepeatable."

LeCoup's presence was missed. The squadron captain had finally been promoted out of field duty. She was now at Fort Krowe, pushing the new admissions to the Rangers through their basic training. It was a fair bet the raw recruits were already cursing her name, but in years to come would praise her memory when the lessons they learned from LeCoup saved their lives.

The captain's promotion was years overdue, and there was no surprise in Chip getting the vacant post of lieutenant. More disconcerting was that the 23rd Squadron had been sent into the field without a new captain. Chip was the only senior Ranger officer. The squadron had been tagged on as auxiliaries to the Guards for their unconventional mission, supposedly hunting a band of extremely dangerous outlaws. But when had border security become the concern of the Guards? The question was one that all the Rangers were asking.

Kim had a few others. She faced Chip. "What I don't understand is, why are we here?"

"So the Guards don't get lost," Chip suggested.

"Oh, that's undoubtedly why they wanted a few Rangers along. But why out here? We've been heading due west through the wildlands for nearly three weeks. There aren't going to be bandits this far from the homelands. There is no one for them to steal from."

"They might have set up a base out here. Somewhere to hide between raids."

Kim shook her head. "It's too far to lug all the food they'd need for a long stay. It's been tight rations for us, and we're going to have to turn around in a little more than a week if we don't want to run out of food before we get back." It was an undeniable point, even though the Rangers had been able to stretch out the supplies with their knowledge of edible plants.

"Hopefully, that means our goal isn't too far off. The major knows exactly where we're going, so they ought to have worked out the provisions." Chip's tone was not quite as confident as her words.

Kim's expression grew even more perplexed. "And that's another question. Where did she get her map?"

"The Goddess only knows. I'd love to study it in more detail, but she's only let me have brief glimpses when she thinks she might be lost and wants my opinion."

"You haven't been able to work out anything from it?"

"It's just a simple drawing of the quickest way to get somewhere. But what that place is..." Chip shrugged. "I would say your guess is as good as mine, except it is usually better. So what do you think?"

Kim pursed her lips while her eyes stared down on the campsite. "I think there's a job the Sisters want doing out here, but they don't trust the Rangers to do it. Rozek is some Sister's favorite officer. Lynn thought she was in the pocket of one faction or the other. That's why the major has been trusted with this mission. She probably knows a lot of what there is to know, but she's keeping it to herself. Even the Guards are in the dark, and that's what worries me most of all. I think that when we find out what this job is we won't like it, but they're not planning on letting us know until we're not in a position to think of other options."

Chip's face was grim. "Maybe. But what worries me most is that Rozek particularly asked for the 23rd Squadron to accompany her troops. And I don't think it was because of fond memories of us. I've seen her watching you sometimes. She can't forgive you for the fact you're still breathing." Chip reached out and grabbed her friend's arm. "But just you keep doing it. And that's an order."

Kim grinned. "Yes, ma'am. But I had sort of been intending that anyway." She matched Chip's grasp on the forearm. "Come on, let's go back and see how dinner is going."

Together the two women in green and gray headed down the hillside.

No attacks came during the night, and the next morning, the company continued on their way. The Guards with despondent faces and wet clothes; the Rangers with partially successful attempts to avoid looking smug. The walls on either side got closer and higher and eventually, in midmorning, the valley ended abruptly at a sheer face of white limestone where the lazy river emerged from a long, thin opening at the bottom.

Major Rozek called a halt and consulted her map, at last grudgingly requesting Chip's advice. After a short discussion, the company backtracked a couple of kilometers to where a rockslide provided a steep yet passable route out of the valley. At the top they found a wide, rolling moor, virtually treeless, burned yellow by the summer. A gentle breeze stirred the grasses in a dry rustling. Overhead, the thinnest sheet of high cloud did little to hide the glare of the sun. Due west, a line of distant mountains lifted their heads against the hazy sky. One had a distinctive double peak. Rozek spent some time looking between her map and the mountain before leading the column in a straight line toward it.

A short while later, the column passed a gaping hole in the ground, a long gash at the bottom of a steep, crater-like depression. From the black depths thundered the rushing of water. The hole was where the roof of a cavern had crumbled away and the unsupported earth slid in. Obviously, the river disappeared into a sinkhole somewhere ahead and then flowed underground along caves eroded into the limestone, until it re-emerged at the foot of the cliff they had seen. But from the sound, the river bore little resemblance to the placid waterway they had camped by the night before. Now squeezed into tunnels through the rock, its booming roar reverberated from the chasm.

The mounted women kept well back from the treacherous-looking edge and carried on across the moor. Half a kilometer farther, they passed a second hole, and then a third-a string of strange pockmarks in the otherwise even surface of the moorland that marked the path of the underground river.

At noon, they had a lengthy break to rest the horses and take lunch, a chance to talk and stretch out the cricks from hours in the saddle, and then the company went on. But it was not long before the major called another halt. The head of the column had come across yet another hole, bigger than any of the others, a full twenty meters long. From the grassy plane of the moor, steep slopes of loose gravel plunged down on either side to the ragged gash in the bedrock.

The Rangers had been riding in the middle of the column, but word arrived quickly that the major wished to speak with Lieutenant Coppelli. She spurred her horse forward and to the place where Rozek and the other Guard officers were peering into the crater.

"You wanted me, ma'am?" Chip asked as she dismounted.

"Yes, Lieutenant. There is something down there by the edge. I want you to send one of your women, Private Ramon, down to retrieve it."

Chip craned her neck to look over the edge. Some artifact, possibly made of leather, was half buried near the opening in the rock, and ten meters of loose footing at an angle of nearly 45 degrees had to be crossed before one could get to it. "But, ma'am, it's-" She did not have the chance to finish.

"That's an order," Rozek snapped.

"Yes, ma'am." Chip bit back anything else she might say and faced down the line. "Private Ramon, come here. And bring a rope with you."

"We haven't got time to waste pussyfooting about with ropes," Rozek said harshly.

Chip spun back, speechless with disbelief, but at last found her voice. "I will not order one of my women to risk her neck like that."

"Then you will find yourself removed from your post and one of my officers put in your place."

Kim arrived in time to hear the major's threat. She slipped down from her horse and walked forward, eyebrows raised in query. "Ma'am?"

"The major wants you to go down without a safety rope and collect something she's seen beside the chasm's edge. But I won't ask you to do it." Chip, in her outrage, did not bother keeping her voice low enough to prevent others from hearing.

"No. I'm going to order you to." Rozek's voice snapped out sharply from behind her.

Kim's eyes flitted between the assembled officers and then down to the fissure, evaluating the situation. She met her friend's eyes and spoke softly. "It's all right, Chip. I'll go very carefully."

"She wants you to fall."

"I know. I'll try to disappoint her. But you dare not let Rozek displace you. If I'm right, things are going to get very nasty soon, and the lives of the whole squadron might depend on having a competent officer in charge. And it won't help me anyway. If I don't do what she says, she'll hold a field court-martial and string me up for disobeying an order while on active duty."

"In these circumstances? She'd have hell to pay when the report goes back to Fort Krowe."

"The Sisters won't be upset to hear of my death. Rozek might receive a public reprimand, but she'll also get a private commendation. And we both know which is more useful to a Guardswoman's career."

A range of emotions battled for control of Chip's face, but in the end, all she said was, "It's your choice, but take care."

"I will. Just try and get the squadron back intact."

Kim stepped to the crumbling edge of the crater and looked down. She removed her spurs and sword belt, then turned around and carefully lowered herself onto the unstable slope. A small trickle of loose stones bounced down to the edge of the fissure and plummeted over, but Kim managed to get enough purchase using toes, knees, and fingers to stop herself from following.

Testing her weight at each step, she edged her way down toward the sound of furious water, a roaring that got louder and louder by the second. Her entire being became fixed on the search for secure handholds, the feel of the shifting ground under her toes, and the narrowing distance between herself and the brink of the chasm. So tight did her mental focus become that Kim was almost surprised when the object she was after appeared within arm's reach. One worn shoe, toes and heels well scuffed, half buried in the soft gravel of the slope. Kim pulled it loose and was about to stuff it inside her jacket, freeing both hands for the climb back, when she was stopped by a shout from Rozek.

"Throw it up here!"

For the first time, Kim took her eyes from the ground beneath her and looked up to the top of the slope. The entire company had dismounted and was lining the rim. The Rangers were watching her with expressions of appalled dismay. Even the Guards looked worried. Except for Major Rozek.

"I said, throw it here, Ranger."

Kim pulled back her arm and lobbed the shoe up. The action sent another small avalanche of stones tumbling over the edge and nearly unbalanced her, but after a brief struggle, Kim regained her grip on the slope. The shoe landed on the grass by Rozek's feet.

"Great, now we know the shoe size of one of the outlaws," Chip muttered to the Ranger beside her.

Kim was about to start the ascent of the slope when she was again stopped by the major. "While you're there, check that nothing is under that bush."

Kim's eyes followed the direction Rozek was pointing. The plant in question was five meters to her left, a small shrub that had somehow established a foothold on the steepest part of the slope. Its knotted branches overhung the edge. Kim looked up, meeting Rozek's eyes. For a long time, they held the contact, Rozek with an expression somewhere between expectation and triumph, Kim with resigned contempt. In Kim's head echoed the words, You have my solemn oath as an officer in the temple Guard. You will die for it. Rozek's intention was that she should not live to climb out of the crater, but there was a limit to how far the major could push things. Already there was muttering from above, and not just from the Rangers. No soldier liked to think her commanding officer would play games with their lives.

Kim took a quick glance down to the black emptiness opening centimeters below her feet. The thunder of the underground river boomed from the cave below. To slip would be certain death, but she had gotten this far, and a certain grim amusement arose from the thought of frustrating Rozek.

An eternity passed in the cautious sideways scramble, but at last the bush was reached and as expected, there was nothing to be found. Up above, Rozek's expression had changed to one of irritation, but she did not dare drag things out further and made no attempt to demand more exploration of the chasm, allowing Kim to begin the climb to safety.

The first meter went without a hitch, then Kim's hand fastened on a larger rock embedded in the ground. To a careful tug, it seemed securely held by the surrounding soil, but as Kim pulled on it, levering herself up the slope, it shifted, twisted, and came loose in her hand. The jolt sent the loose gravel under her toes and knees rolling, taking her with them down the slope, an unhaltable, unhurried slither. In desperation, Kim dug her fingers into the ground, trying to stop her slow slide, but the chasm's edge came ever nearer, and then her feet slipped over. A last hopeless sweep of her hands, and Kim caught hold of the bush, pulling herself to a stop. Her legs dangled in free air. Never had the torrent sounded so loud.

Helplessly, Kim looked up to the line of shocked onlookers at the top of the slope. Chip was barging her way along the rim, making for the point directly above, coiled rope in hand, but the rescue attempt was too late. Kim heard the snapping of roots as the shrub tore free, felt the world reel about her, and saw the sky spin and recede as she pitched back over the edge and tumbled into the darkness.

CHAPTERTWELVE- A NICE NIGHT FOR A STROLL

wave of disbelief and horror froze the row of women at the

top of the crater. Only Chip's cry of "Kim!" broke the silence, and then she also stood motionless, coiled rope hanging uselessly in her hands, staring down at the tiny disturbed hollow where the roots of the bush had torn free. The last echo of the shout faded away, and then only the whisper of the wind over the moorland contended with the roar of the underground torrent.

Rozek's voice was the next to be raised. "May the Goddess treat her soul with mercy. For we are all her children and must one day stand before her to be judged."

The bland words of piety lifted the spell of inaction from the assembled women. Guards muttered to their neighbors, and Rangers slowly shook their heads in denial of what they had witnessed. Some spun away from the fissure and fixed their gaze on the horizon. Others wandered back to their horses and then stood still, as if trying to summon the enthusiasm to get back into the saddle.

Rozek turned to the junior Guard officer beside her and said, "We've wasted enough time here. Get them mounted up. I want to make a fair bit of progress by nightfall."

The Guardswoman nodded and was about to shout the command, but just as she opened her mouth, she was stopped by the sight of a furious Lieutenant Coppelli, elbowing her way through the confused line of soldiers, heading toward them, hands balled into fists.

"That was murder!" Chip screamed the words, her face only centimeters from Rozek's.

The major's eyes were contemptuous. "And that is gross insubordination."

A fresh circle of silence rippled out from where the two antagonists stood, eyes locked in hostility. But at last, Rozek drew in a long breath through pinched nostrils and quoted, "The gift of life is the Goddess's alone to bestow, and hers alone to take back. At the painful parting, seek not to understand why, merely to believe that all is done according to her will."

"The will of the Goddess be damned! You murdered her."

The blasphemy drew gasps of shock from the Guards.

Rozek's face hardened into rigid outrage, but her voice softened to a dangerous intensity. "You have gone too far." Louder she said, "Lieutenant Coppelli is relieved of duty. Captain Ahmed, you will take temporary command of the 23rd Squadron." She glanced back at Chip. "You may rejoin the rest of the Rangers. Until further notice, you have the acting rank of private. Command headquarters in Landfall will receive my report when we get back and may make a more permanent decision."

Rozek turned on her heel and began to walk away, but she did not get far. A hand grabbed her shoulder and swung her back, then a fist smashed into the side of her head. The blow sent her reeling backward; a second sharp punch knocked her to the ground, half stunned.

Before Rozek fully realized what was happening, Chip was sitting astride her chest, thumbs pushing down hard on her windpipe. Fingers clawed into the back of her neck. The speed of the assault was such that a few moments passed before the nearest Guards gathered themselves to respond. Several grabbed hold of Chip and dragged her off the half-strangled major.

Still, an air of unreality gripped the majority of those watching. The previous few minutes had held too many shocks. They watched in dream-like confusion as Rozek rolled over and pushed herself up on one arm while the other hand massaged her throat. The major took a deep breath and rose unsteadily.

The Rangers recovered first. Even before Rozek had regained her feet, a couple were moving forward to where Chip was held, restrained by four Guards. The hands of others went to the hilts of their swords and their eyes shifted left and right as they readied themselves for action. For a moment, discipline teetered on the brink of chaos, but then Rozek's deputy stepped in, shouting commands, instilling a sense of purpose in the stunned Guards and shaking them out of their state of frozen confusion. As military order reasserted itself, the Rangers halted, reminded of the extent to which they were outnumbered. Many of the Guards looked uneasy, some looked ashamed, but there was no doubt that they would follow Rozek and the other Guard officers.

With furious impotence, the Rangers had no option but to watch as Chip's hands were tied behind her back and she was led away prisoner, to ride with an escort of Guards until Rozek should have time to consider her fate. Not that anyone had much doubt about what that would be.

Away from the hole in the ground, the soldiers reclaimed their horses and climbed back into their saddles, rapidly forming themselves into a double column. The major remained by the rim of the crater, twisting her neck experimentally from side to side, until something in the grass caught her eye. From their position in the middle of the line, the embittered Rangers watched Rozek bend down and pick up the discarded coil of rope. They were too far away to see her expression of grim satisfaction or hear the soft comment, "I guess we might have a use for this after all," but all could read her intention.

As soon as Rozek had returned to her horse, the order to ride on was called, the route still heading directly for the distant mountain. The column set off across the open moorland, but as they rode away from the chasm, hard, calculated looks passed from Ranger to Ranger. Circumstance forced them to be silent for the moment, but there was a lot they all wanted to say.

Both moons floated clear in the black night sky, their brilliance diminishing the glitter of the stars and lighting the valley where the company had made the next night's stop on the other side of the moorland. Chip looked up at the shining crescents through the branches of the tree, remembering the many other occasions they had kept her company through the night on lonely sentry duties. The moons were like longtime comrades. She smiled up at the familiar sight of Hardie, now almost directly overhead. She would have one last night to watch the moons' slow progression across the sky. And bid them goodbye.

Her hands were still tied behind her securely, the rope going around the rough tree trunk that her back was propped against. Two Guards stood a little to one side talking quietly, their eyes occasionally traveling in her direction. She was being held on the edge of camp, a little apart from where the sleeping forms of Guards littered the ground. Here and there, dull red embers glowed, the remains of campfires. Then beyond them was the outline of the major's tent. Chip could not restrain the sneer that twisted her lips as she looked at it.

You did not do much for the state of your health in striking a commanding officer, let alone trying to kill her. And if you were going to do it when on active duty, the sentence was a forgone conclusion. To give Rozek her due, she had held a proper field court-martial, although Chip suspected it was only because she enjoyed the ceremonial qualities and the chance it gave to hold someone totally in her power. The gratification in the major's voice was unmistakable as she had pronounced the phrase, "hung at dawn."

But it was not in Chip's nature to waste what hours she had left brooding on someone who deserved nothing but contempt. She allowed herself a little guilt that she had not been able to save Kim, slightly more guilt that she would not be able to fulfill the promises she had made to Katryn, and some regrets that they would not be able to carry through their plans for the future, but it was better to look at the moons and let their peace and beauty flow into her.

Her contemplation was disrupted by a succession of soft sounds from the left: a thud, a muffled gasp, a dull slap. Chip turned her head. The standing silhouettes of the two Guards were gone, replaced by a confused huddle near the ground, then one dark shape broke away and scuttled to her side.

A quiet voice whispered, "Isn't that just typical of the Guards? Lying down on sentry duty."

"Katryn!"

"The one and only."

The sound of cutting followed and then the rope around Chip's hands slackened. In a few seconds, the last of the binding had been removed from her wrists.

"What are you...?" Chip's voice faded in confusion.

"I've got a message for you from the girls. We've been talking among ourselves about you and Kim. And we've been looking at the moons, and someone said, Wouldn't it be a nice night for a stroll? So we were all about to set off and then someone else said, I wonder if Chip would like to come with us? So I said I'd come and ask you, and of course a few others came with me to make sure the Guards didn't

mind me talking to you."

"Katryn, stop acting the clown."

"Oh, that's a bit much, coming from you," Katryn said in mock indignation.

"I'm serious."

"So am I, my love." Abruptly, all humor left Katryn's voice. "It's bad enough we stood back and let Rozek murder Kim. There's no way we're going to form up into nice straight lines tomorrow and watch you die as well. We're deserting, every last woman in the squadron. We all know this isn't a raid on bandits. We're going to leave the Guards to sort it out for themselves. And let Rozek try and explain that when she gets back to Landfall."

"Where have we got to go?"

"You can think of somewhere worse than this? Of course, if you don't want to desert, you can wait here until morning."

Chip's head tilted back to look up at the sky, but then a grin twitched at the corner of her mouth. "Damn. Do you know I'd been looking at the moons, and I'd gotten this close"-she indicated with finger and thumb-"this close to making my peace with the Goddess."

"Good thing I came along when I did, the poor deity would never have withstood the shock."

Slipping away was absurdly easy. The term "stroll" was not misleading. Out of habit, all sentry duty, with the exception of those guarding Chip, had been assigned to the Rangers. Muffling the horses' hooves was an over-precaution. No alarm was raised as they passed up the side of the valley and assembled on the ridge at the top. Chip looked down on the peaceful campsite, then turned to meet Katryn's amused gaze.

"Do you know, I feel a bit guilty going like this?"

"Any particular reason?" Katryn asked.

"Well, I mean, how will the poor lambs find their way home without us?"

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN- SOMEONEREALLY DOESN'T LIKE YOU

im felt as if she fell forever into the darkness before hitting

the river with a splash that was utterly insignificant in the fury of white water. Immediately, she was swept away, spinning helplessly in the torrent. Her shoulder grazed over a boulder and then she was pulled out and smashed against a rock wall. The river dragged her on through a series of jarring blows. She felt a leg rise clear of the water before she was sucked down again. Already her lungs were starting to ache, but it seemed certain she would be battered to death before she drowned. There was no light, no up or down, just the savage pounding of ice-cold water.

Once more, she crashed fully against a rock wall, leaving her semi-stunned. However, this time it was different. Still the water rushed around her, giving the sensation of motion, yet the rocks stayed in place. She was lodged in a crevice, but her lungs were burning, and she was not sure which way was up. So it's drowning, then. The ironic thought shot through Kim's mind, but it was still just a little too soon to give up.

The pressure of the current made movement a battle. She was pressed against the rocks like a leaf on a window in a gale, but slowly, painfully, Kim raised her arm above her head and felt it break into the air. The two sides of the crevice formed a wall on left and right, both were washed smooth, but it was just possible to brace arms, legs, and shoulders against them and propel herself upward until her face lifted above the surface of the water and she drew a deep gasp of air into her lungs, spluttering in the spray as the current hammered on her back and broke in cascades over her shoulders and head.

The cavern was pitch black, impossible to see a thing, and the roar of the water was deafening in her ears, but Kim thought she could detect a faint echo from high up, giving the hope that the roof of the tunnel was more than just a few centimeters above her head. The water surged past her in a torrent, dragging on her clothes. She was not in a dead end fissure, but a narrow channel. The current had drawn her in, but she was too large to go through. And now that her head was clearing slightly, Kim was aware of painful grazing from where she had been rammed between the two rock faces, even though both were polished smooth by the years of rushing water. Polished smooth, and therefore devoid of handholds.

Nothing Kim could feel gave even the faintest hope of a grip sufficient to pull herself out of the water, but as she had already found, it was possible to brace herself in the gap. The water was like a dead weight, trying to suck her down, and the polished rock was as slippery as glass, but slowly Kim got higher and higher, fighting to gain some purchase on the wet surfaces, not knowing where she had to go, only that she could not stay where she was. Her body was battered and bruised, but adrenaline kept her moving.

Several times, she nearly slipped back before she finally got clear of the water. The two sides of the crevice were drawing closer. Kim wedged herself in the gap and felt above her head. To her despair, she touched the roof on the tunnel, and then her exploring hand felt an opening on the sheer wall to her right and a little behind her. She had no way to tell how deep the aperture was or where it led, but it was the only way for her to go. It was a desperate struggle in the dark, to shift backward hampered by wet, clinging clothes, with the ever-present risk of falling. But eventually, Kim was able to put her arm into the empty space and feel a gently sloping ledge, maybe half a meter wide. With a hazardous kick and twist, Kim rolled onto the shelf of rock and lay on her back, gasping from the exertion of the climb.

Once she had recovered her breath, in something verging on surprise, Kim realized she could see her surroundings-very, very faintly. The darkness was no longer absolute. The space was not sufficient for Kim to sit up, so she raised herself on one elbow and looked around. The shelf she lay on was the start of another fissure in the rock, a crooked, sloping shaft, climbing upward. The faintest glint of daylight came from this opening.

Kim peered over the edge of the shelf. It was too dark to see the water below, but she could hear it roaring though the narrow channel, and other echoes of other torrents in the underground maze of caverns. She guessed that the river had divided, and by the grace of the Goddess, she had been carried away from the main channel to lodge in the cleft. Yet it was still premature to give thanks for her escape; there was no guarantee the fissure would be passable.

Kim began to squirm her way up the breach in the rock. Soon she was enclosed on all sides, and the ground beneath her had changed from a smooth, polished surface to a gritty incline, covered in loose scree. The passage was narrow, winding, and uneven. In parts it opened into small chambers. In other places, it was barely wide enough for Kim's shoulders. Once, she had to scrabble with her hands at the chippings of rock before she could continue, but she managed to force her way ever up, and the booming of the raging river faded until she emerged into the open air at the bottom of another crater on the surface of the moor, a much smaller depression than the one she had fallen into, no more than three meters deep, and a similar distance across. The hole was probably slightly off the route the company had taken over the grasslands and too small to attract attention from a distance.

The final scramble out of the crater presented few problems. Kim pulled herself over the rim and lay at last on the ground in the warm sunshine, with the wind carrying the smell of earth and grass to her, and Celaeno's sweet blue sky hanging over her. Laughter from pure joy bubbled in her throat.

A while passed before Kim gathered herself to stand and look around. With shock, she realized barely an hour had elapsed since she had fallen into the river. It had easily felt ten times as long. But the afternoon was drawing on, and the sun was well past its zenith. She shaded her eyes against the glare and looked due west. Maybe fifty meters away was the long scar of the fissure that had claimed her, and beside its rim, she could see the trampled grass and the tracks of a mounted column of soldiers. Of the horses and riders themselves, there was no sign.

Kim took a deep breath and set off toward the trail.

The effort to put one foot in front of the other was becoming more

and more difficult. Kim stumbled once or twice, but had to keep going. As a Ranger, she was well trained to survive in the wild, but she would require more than the clothes she stood in, especially as even these were torn from the pounding of the river. Her sword belt was no longer where she had left it. Of course, it would have been taken by the other Rangers when they moved on. Her chances would be very poor indeed, alone in the wilderness, without tools, weapons, provisions, or adequate clothing. Even worse than her chances with Rozek, since surely the Guard major would not dare make another such blatant attempt on her life.

Her only option was to try to catch up with the rest of the company. Normally this should have presented few problems, even though they were mounted and she was on foot. The horses could not be ridden nonstop; they needed a chance to rest and graze. The column would camp well before nightfall and not move on until after dawn. This would allow plenty of time for Kim to overtake them, as long as she could keep walking. But this last proviso was the issue at doubt.

The effects of adrenaline had worn off hours before, and those of cold and shock set in. The battering by the rocks had left her badly bruised and cut, and the throbbing in knee, hip, and shoulder had increased to the point of agony. The last of the sunshine had partially dried her clothing, but now the chill of evening had set in, and Kim could feel her whole body shaking. She wrapped her arms about herself as she walked, to try to hold back the tremors. The temptation was to stop and rest, but if she sat down and gave in to sleep, there was no saying when she would awake, and she might lose all chance of catching up with the others.

Dusk had faded into night. The shining crescent of Hardie was starting its journey across the sky. The other moon would not rise for some time. Yet even without small Laurel, there was easily enough light to follow the tracks of a hundred horses across the open moorland. But the contours of the land were changing, becoming more broken and scored by the paths of streams. The line of hoof marks went down into one such gully. Kim followed, taking as much care as she could, but her ankle gave way on the incline, sending her stumbling, to land in a heap at the bottom.

Once the pain of jarred bones and bruises had faded, it was so seductive, to stay where she lay, but Kim forced herself to her knees.

The small stream gurgled over its stony bed nearby. Kim splashed its cold water onto her face. The horse tracks carried on beside the banks of the stream. She stood up, turned to follow, and kept on walking.

After another fifty meters, the gully opened onto the side of a far deeper valley. Kim stood on the hillside and looked down on the sparsely wooded bottom. The trees were slightly different from those she was familiar with, or maybe they were the same species but growing in a new environment. The issue was not important to her right then. The trampled trail led off, up the valley to the northwest. Kim followed it with her eyes and saw in the distance the faint dots of red firelight, no more than another two kilometers away. Even as the wave of relief washed over her, one corner of Kim's mouth twisted in a disdainful grimace. The fires would be the Guards cooking their evening meal. No Ranger would advertise her presence so heedlessly with likely bandits about.

The sight of the camp gave fresh impetus to her footsteps. Kim left the entrance to the gully and began to make her way down the hillside. For the first time in hours, a smile lit her face and her bruises felt less unbearable. But the vegetation was rougher than on the moor, knee-high bushes and brambles that caught her feet, so it was not surprising that Kim tripped again. She fought to keep her balance, but her beaten body was slow to respond, and she tumbled down a steep slope, sliding and rolling, and ending up in a hollow at the foot of a tree.

This time it was easier to summon the enthusiasm to rise, but even before she could move, Kim heard a twig crack behind her. She froze. This far south, and at this time of year, there was no risk of snow lions, but their smaller cousins, the mountain cats, abounded, and despite their size, they could pose a severe threat, especially to a lone, unarmed woman. Slowly, so as not to provoke an attack, Kim rolled over. But instead of teeth, she was confronted by the sight of three drawn bows, the arrows trained on her heart.

The archers' expressions were impossible to read, though their eyes glinted in the moonlight. Kim raised herself on her elbows, still moving very slowly, and returned their steady gaze. For a while no one spoke, but at last Kim raised an eyebrow and said, "Good evening, ladies. Can I assume that you are the bandits?"

Nearly an hour later, her captors escorted Kim into the bandit camp on horseback. Laurel was just starting to rise. They had skirted the area where the fires had been visible and were now several kilometers to the west, on hills overlooking a wide basin of grassland. The bandit camp was well concealed and they were upon it before Kim realized. Although in her battered state, she was beyond paying close attention to her surroundings. Riding required less effort than walking, but her bruises made themselves felt at every hoof fall, and maintaining her balance in the saddle was awkward with bound hands. By now, even her head was aching, and nausea gripped her stomach.

Loud shouts greeted their arrival in camp. "Hey, Cloe. We were starting to wonder what had happened to you. Did you come back by the scenic route?"

"Or did you get lost again?" another voice called.

"Of course not. We had problems," one of Kim's captors retorted, presumably Cloe.

"Problems?" an older voice spoke sharply, silencing the banter. "What are the Guards doing?"

"No, it wasn't with them. They've made camp in the valley and look set to cross the plain first thing tomorrow."

"Perfect. So what was the problem?"

"We acquired a prisoner."

"Oh? Why did you do that?" The elderly speaker was clearly exasperated.

"We didn't mean to. We waited until the Guards had settled and we were sure they weren't about to break camp and head on. Then we were just about to come back here, when she literally stumbled onto us," Cloe said apologetically.

The horses had stopped close by the campfire. In its light, Kim could pick out ten or so women, and most of them were, in turn, watching her. From the tone of the exchanges, the older woman was the leader, and she clearly had no wish whatsoever for a prisoner. To Kim's mind, this was both good and bad news. The good being that she probably was not going to be questioned to any extent. The bad that it could only be a matter of minutes before her throat was slit. The thought should have been worrying, but Kim was pretty much beyond caring.

The woman riding beside Kim slipped out of the saddle and continued with the explanation. "We think she'd gotten lost and was trying to rejoin the Guards. But she's been knocked about a bit, Gina, and not by us. Perhaps you should take a look at her."

This was Kim's cue to dismount, and when she made no attempt to do so, hands pulled her down and dragged her into the light. Kim clenched her teeth as darts of fire shot from her injured limbs, although the handling was firm, rather than rough. A white-haired woman was waiting beside the campfire, evidently the leader who had spoken before. She came forward to stand in front Kim, the few steps revealing the trace of a limp. The infirmity was reflected in one entire side of her body, the corner of her mouth sagged, and while her right eye examined Kim's face, the left one stared, disconcertingly, over Kim's shoulder. But despite the lopsided gaze, there was no doubting the intelligence in the face, or the sense of humor, and at last the leader pronounced, "Either you've been very unlucky, or someone really doesn't like you."

Kim tried to match the dry tone. "It's the latter option."

"So who doesn't like you?"

"The commanding officer."

"In which case you should have answered both, since you are clearly unfortunate in your choice of enemy." The one good eye took in the whole of Kim's appearance. "But I can't help wondering exactly what form your commanding officer's dislike took."

"There was a shoe at the edge of one of the holes over the underground river-" Kim was interrupted by an amused outburst from some of those listening. Apparently, the shoe had belonged to someone called Jade, but the leader silenced the quips before Kim could learn more, and signaled to continue. "The major sent me down to pick it up-"

"Was she really that interested in a shoe?" The leader interrupted with a question.

"I doubt it. What she wanted was for me to fall in."

"You're right. She doesn't like you. Can I take it you obliged her?"

"Yes."

"It would explain the state you're in. But since you obviously managed to get out alive, perhaps I should reconsider my evaluation of how lucky you are."

"Not if you want to take my current situation into account as well." Kim indicated her bound hands.

"Maybe." The leader paused for a while, then asked, "What did you do to make this major dislike you so much?"

"She caught me kissing an Imprinter."

A second of stunned silence was followed by a roar of laughter, which the leader joined in. Once a degree of calm had been reestablished, she looked back to Kim. "You know, I don't like to form snap judgments about people, but you do seem to indulge in an overly dramatic lifestyle. Couldn't you have considered something more conventional, such as drunk on parade?"

Kim shrugged, but could not find the strength to say more. She was swaying on her feet, in imminent danger of collapse. The humor on the elderly woman's face faded, and she lifted a hand to Kim's forehead.

"Lay her down by the fire," the leader instructed the women at Kim's side, dispensing with any more questions. Once this was done, she settled down beside the Ranger and said, "I have some of the healer sense, and it looks to me as if you are rather in need of its assistance."

The elderly hands rested on her forehead, and Kim began to feel the familiar sense of well-being that a healer could bestow. Pain ebbed, nausea dispersed, warmth flowed out from her core, driving away the tremors, then a soft drowsiness wrapped itself around her. The behavior was highly unconventional for a bandit chief, but Kim made no complaint. Working things out would be easier when she felt better.

CHAPTERFOURTEEN- EX-SISTER GINA RENAMED

short time later, Kim was roused from her light doze, aware

of a vast improvement in her physical state. Enough for her to look with interest at the bowl of food held out to her by the white-haired leader. Around the campfire, the other bandits were also taking a late meal before sleeping. Eating with her hands tied was a little tricky, but Kim managed well enough, and eventually put the empty bowl down while stifling a large yawn.

"I didn't know if you'd want waking for food. But I guess you did," the leader commented. Now that Kim was more alert, she also noted the lisp in the voice, the result of the elderly woman's sagging lips.

"Yes. Thank you. I'm sure I'll get back to sleep okay."

"You certainly will. I'm afraid I'm going to have to put you out cold. We can't trust those knots to hold you all night, and I don't want to have people standing watch on you, as we've got a big day planned for tomorrow. I know it's an abuse of the healer sense, and I'm sorry, but..." The leader looked at Kim apologetically.

"That's all right," Kim said, and then the irony hit her. She looked up at the elderly woman. "The Guards told us we were after dangerous bandits. But if you don't mind me saying so, you don't seem to have the game sorted out very well. Most bandits knock people out by hitting them over the head with a large blunt instrument. And they hardly ever say sorry for it."

"Really!" The woman's right hand eyebrow rose in mock surprise.

Kim was aware that other bandits were also listening. She looked at her captors thoughtfully. "It adds to some concerns I've had about your commitment to theft. You seem to have stuck yourself in a spot

where there's no one to steal from."

"So putting it all together, what conclusions do you draw?"

Kim met the gaze of the one good eye and said, "That you are not bandits."

"And what do you think we might be?" The leader sounded amused.

"Some people who have seriously pissed off the Chief Consultant."

Laughter and scattered applause rang around the campsite. The leader also seemed quite pleased with Kim's assessment. "Yes, we've certainly done that. Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Gina Renamed. Ex-Sister Gina Renamed."

"Ex? I didn't know Sisters could retire."

"We're not supposed to, but it's the least of the things I've done to upset the Chief Consultant." Gina gave her an uneven smile. "And you are?"

"Ranger Private Kimberly Ramon."

"You answer to Kim?"

"Yes."

"Well, Kim, it would be best if we took a little while to digest our supper before sleeping. So how about if I tell you just what we've done to piss off the Chief Consultant?"

Kim nodded her acceptance, and the ex-Sister settled herself a little more comfortably by the fire before continuing. "I actually began my career in the temple as an Imprinter. Well...a trainee Imprinter. And that's another job you can't normally retire from. Like everyone else, I went to the temple for assessment when I was twelve years old, but I was never allowed home again. It's a terrible thing to do to a child. It leaves you with a lifelong resentment of the Sisters, which will explain a fair amount of what follows."

Kim's face grew attentive as she thought of another Imprinter with a resentment of Sisters, though she said nothing.

"I trained as an Imprinter for six years: the biology, the genetics, the lot." Gina waved her hand as she spoke. "I was a few months from starting to work in the temple, when one day, I was doing some experiments on a horse. Nothing that was going to hurt it. I don't want you getting any false sympathies, just analyzing its DNA. I was deep in a trance when some fool came charging into the stable, screaming her head off about something utterly trivial. She spooked the horse. It reared up and kicked me in the head. At least, this is what I've been told, because I was unaware of anything at the time, or for some months after. But apparently the blow cracked my skull, giving me a brain hemorrhage. Obviously, the best healers were put onto me at once. They probably saved my life. Even so, I was in a coma for fifteen weeks, and when I finally came around, I was totally paralyzed down one side. I got better slowly, but you've no doubt noticed that I never made a full recovery. At first, it was thought my mental faculties were unharmed. The Chief Consultant herself was going to lead the prayers of thanks, and then it was realized my healer sense had gone."

"You did all right by me just now."

Gina shrugged. "It returned slowly over the years, the same as my walking, but it never made anything close to a full recovery. I'm a competent healer, but I can't even force cloning, let alone imprint. So the temple had to work out what to do with me. I'd have been quite happy to go back to my parents, and I'm sure they'd have been happy to have me, but I'd been admitted into the sanctum and been privy to many great secrets of the temple. Well, that's what they said. Personally, I think they didn't want me spreading gossip about their private lives, which are nowhere near as holy as they'd like you to believe. Anyway, the end of it was they told me I had to become a Sister. Then they had the problem of knowing what to call me, since my last name had been formally annulled, so they came up with Renamed. Sister Gina Renamed. Damned stupid name."

"But it suits you," someone heckled from the other side of the fire, giving rise to more laughter.

Gina snorted, undeterred from her story. "They had one last problem. What was I actually going to do in the temple? The Sisters have an image they like to project. Aloof, spiritual workers for the Goddess. I just didn't fit in, limping around and dribbling under my mask. Plus, all you see of a Sister is her eyes, and mine didn't even point in the same direction. They decided they didn't dare let me have any contact with the general public, so they sent me off to the temple library, which is traditionally where they put the Sisters who are too dense to be trusted to perform the public ceremonies. They thought I'd fit in. It's typical. Walk with a limp, slur your words, and people think you're an idiot. It was their mistake." Gina looked at Kim. "Do you have any idea how many books are in the temple library?"

The question was clearly rhetorical, but Kim answered anyway. "No."

"Hundreds and thousands. Now, do you want to guess how many ever get read?"

"I've no idea."

"None. At least, none before I went there. It's actually forbidden. A mortal sin. Only the Chief Consultant is allowed to read them, and she never bothers. The library contains the entire wisdom of the Elder-Ones. Supposedly it's information left to assist Celaeno's children in achieving the destiny the Goddess has planned for them, and it will all be revealed, bit by bit, if and when the Sisters think the time is right."

"How will they know when to reveal the information if they don't know what it is?" Kim asked.

Gina waggled a finger. "A good question, but not a wise one to ask the Chief Consultant to her face. Anyway, these other two Sisters and I worked in the library, sweeping the floors, dusting the shelves, taking a book down, wiping the outside and putting it back. But never actually opening the cover of a single volume. The other two were hard put to read their own names, so they probably weren't tempted. Plus they believed they'd burn in hell if they did. But they'd chosen to be Sisters. I hadn't. My parents had been skeptical about religion, and they'd passed it on to me."

Gina paused for a moment in thought, as if reconsidering her last words. "Actually, all Imprinters tend to be a touch skeptical. It comes somewhere in your third year of training, when you realize that the Sisters don't understand what they're talking about. Imprinters have to be given real information. You can't be fobbed off with half-truths. Embryos can't be imprinted by faith alone, so the Sisters have no option but to let you read some of the books the Elder-Ones left. And then you realize that a lot of the prayers are...inaccurate. That's the politest word for it. Perhaps that's the really dangerous piece of information they didn't want me to take out of the temple, and why they keep the Imprinters so repressed and isolated. They might say the temple is to care for and protect the Goddess's chosen ones, but in fact, Imprinters are little more than slaves."

"Oh, I know," Kim cut in. "Remember, I said I was...acquainted

with an Imprinter."

"Yes, you did." Gina frowned at her. "That was the truth? You weren't joking?"

"No."

"Umph. Perhaps we could hear your story later. Maybe tomorrow."

"Because you won't get a word in edgeways while Gina's telling hers," another voice called out cheerfully.

"Ignore them. They're just bored because they've heard it all fifty times before," Gina said to Kim after sending a dismissive gesture in the general direction of her followers. "Now, where was I? Oh, yes...in the library. I started to sneak peeks at the books. It wasn't easy, as we were never supposed to be in there alone. Still, as I've said, the other two Sisters weren't very bright, and I could wangle the odd half hour every month or so."

Gina's lips compressed in an uneven line. "And those books! They lined shelf, upon shelf, upon shelf, all looking identical from the outside. Same size, same color, and they all had the same words on the spine: Celaeno: Encyclopedic Database Download, and a number underneath. I'll never forget the first thing I read from them, the day I finally built up my nerve to do it. I snuck a book off the shelf, opened a page at random, my heart pounding, expecting to discover some arcane knowledge...and what I got was a section about the chemical structure of nylon. It was such a disappointment. I know I was expecting something mysterious, but not that mysterious. I still don't have a clue what nylon is. And there was lots more of the same. After two years, I was pretty disillusioned and would have given up, except that breaking the rules was the only excitement left in my life."

Kim watched Gina's face as she spoke. The ex-Sister's gaze was fixed on another time, another place, her audience temporarily forgotten.

Gina sighed and continued speaking. "But then one day, I discovered the index. That's what the numbers on the spine were. If you wanted to know about something you could look it up, and the index would tell you which book and page number to go to. It meant I could be a bit more directed in what I read. So I thought, concentrate on what I know most about-biology. Which was when I became really confused." The elderly hands waved, trying to convey the sense of the emotion. "I mean, I know human biology. I have been inside a blood cell, wandered through a central nervous system. Most of what was in the books was right on the mark, and other parts were totally surreal. Prostate glands. I read a section on human prostate glands; but humans do not have a prostate gland. So I gave up on biology." She drew a deep breath.

"Then I discovered there was a whole section on history, which threw me completely. The Elder-Ones lived at the dawn of time. What history did they have to write? So I chose a reference at random, and got the Franco-Prussian war." Gina tossed her hands into the air, miming despair. "Then I saw the date: 1870-71."

"But..." Kim's forehead knotted.

"Exactly! It's over a thousand years into the future. For a short while, my little skeptical soul was in revolt as I considered the possibility that the Elder-Ones had given a detailed breakdown of what was to come. Then I remembered prostate glands. So I picked a date I knew about: 320. Did it mention the floods in Landfall? Did it hell! The Gupta dynasty reunites India. That's what it talked about, and that's when I gave up with the whole thing. I decided the reason the library was out of bounds was to hide the fact that the Elder-Ones were a bunch of deranged lunatics. I would have gone back to the dusting, except that I got a kick out of imagining what the Sisters would say if they knew I was reading the books."

Kim's expression was somewhere between a smile and a frown. She was not sure where the story was going. The other women around the fire were showing only cursory interest. It was clearly a tale they were all very familiar with. Kim looked at them. Their ages varied between fifteen and sixty, with Gina the oldest by a good ten years. On the faces of the group was a familiar intensity, born of desperation, though it was well hidden beneath a show of humor. They were all armed and clearly used to living in the wildlands, but Kim was certain they were not vicious criminals. She had seen enough of that sort to know the signs. Her attention shifted back to the speaker.

"I must have been working in the library for nearly ten years when I came across something else. By then, I was the senior Sister in the library, which isn't very senior, as Sisters go. But I had more chances to read, and it was the only entertainment I got. I'd developed a liking for geology. It all seemed to make sense. There were no imaginary rocks, although most of the examples were from imaginary places. When I saw a reference to a cold place called Iceland, I thought they were being figurative, but what the hell was it supposed to imply if somewhere was a new Zealand? And what would an old one be like?" Gina raised her hands in an exaggerated shrug.

"However, there was one room of the library I'd not paid much attention to. It didn't look very impressive compared to the rest, just cabinets full of hand-written paper. And I guess I assumed that if the contents hadn't been put into the books, then they couldn't be very important. But it still needed dusting. Which is what I was doing one day, when I saw the word Iron Pyrites on a folder. It's a mineral formation that I'd been reading about the week before. So the next chance I got, I went back and had a look at it. They were the first reports from the Elder-One, Peter McKay."

"The patron of miners?" Kim queried.

"Yes, that one. He had been a geologist...and did you note the word I used?"

"Geologist?"

"No, he."

At the confused expression on Kim's face, Gina laughed. "Never mind. I scoured through the drawer of reports, and was just about to close it when I saw some other books, almost hidden, lining the bottom. The papers were all clipped into folders, but these books were the wrong size, so they had just been placed in the drawers. I took them out and found they were four volumes of Peter McKay's personal diary. And then I thought, nobody apart from me knew they were there, so nobody was going to miss them. I hid the diaries inside my robe and took them back to my room and read them at my leisure. And suddenly everything made sense."

Around the fire, other conversations had stopped. All eyes looked in Gina's direction. This, Kim realized, was the crux of the story.

"Virtually everything the Sisters tell us about Celaeno, and Himoti, and the Elder-Ones is wrong. And the parts that are true are completely distorted." Gina paused and met Kim's eyes in an intense, earnest stare. "The Elder-Ones weren't semi-divine. They were our ancestors, or at least, they came from the same place our genetic ancestors came from. They were pretty much the same as us. Nothing like the statues in the temples, just a bit more diverse in appearance. They used to live on another planet, under another sun. The original Earth, the place where humans first came into being. Their science was unimaginably more advanced than ours. I couldn't even make sense of it from the books. Particle accelerators, field-floatation tubes, nylon, and all the rest. But they were able to make ships that could travel between the stars, and that's how they got here."

"But..." Kim paused in utter confusion. "If that were true, it couldn't be kept hidden from people."

"Why not? Who, apart from the Sisters, have access to records from the Elder-Ones?"

"You think the Sisters are deliberately spreading lies and keeping everyone misinformed?" Kim was skeptical. She had no love for the Sisters but found it hard to believe they were all involved in a great conspiracy.

"It's not deliberate. Since they don't read the Elder-Ones' books, I suspect none of them, not even the Chief Consultant, actually know the truth. If they did know, I think the library would have been destroyed long ago, but the people with a stake in keeping the truth hidden no longer know what's in there to hide. Mind you, I'm not sure I'd have ever made sense of it without the diary. There is just too much information to be able to pull it together and get a sensible picture. The library was the Elder-Ones' bequest to us. It was the history of the first Earth. It described its countries, its culture. The Elder-Ones left us the information so we would know something of our true home world."

"So you don't think we were brought here by Celaeno?"

"Oh, no. In fact, I know for certain that we were. It's just that Celaeno isn't what they say she is."

"And what is she?" Kim asked.

"I've already told you. She's a ship."

"A boat?"

"A starship. The Celaeno was built by people on the first Earth to carry them between the stars. She's not a goddess. She's not even alive. She's a thing made out of metal and...whatever it is you build starships out of. Maybe nylon. She was named the Celaeno like a barge skipper calls her boat the Daisy-lee. Our ancestors made her to carry them to a new world, but they never intended to come here. They never intended to lose contact with the first Earth. But when traveling in the spaceship, they were all held in a sort of artificial sleep, and while they were asleep, the spaceship got lost. They were stranded here on this planet without the resources to recreate all their technology, so they did the best they could."

"The unborn Elder-Ones," Kim said in a sudden excitement. Not that she was convinced, but a quote clicked with her. "In her belly slept the Elder-Ones, who were not born of this world."

"Exactly. They weren't born on this world. But that doesn't mean they hadn't been born somewhere else."

"But don't..." Kim stopped in confusion as she tried to pull her thoughts together.

Another woman leaned forward and said, "I wouldn't bother asking too many questions now, or Gina will have you up all night. It's part of her quest to spread enlightenment through the world. She needs no encouragement at all to talk non-stop for hours and bore everyone silly." Despite the words, there was no mistaking the affection in the woman's voice when she spoke of her leader.

Gina nodded, a little sadly. "Yes, you're right. I do talk too much. And look at where it's got me." She indicated the camp. "And I'm afraid I haven't the time to finish my story properly, as we have to be up before first light tomorrow. But to put it briefly, I was still young and naive at the time. Not quite naive enough to think that if I went to the Chief Consultant with my discovery, I'd be hailed as the savior of the world, but naive enough to think I could make a difference. So carefully, very carefully, I started spreading the word. And after another twenty years I had a small network-"

"The heretics!" Kim interrupted, remembering the commotion that had only just been dying down when she first joined the Militia.

"Ah. So you have heard of us."

"I'd heard you'd all been captured and executed."

"Which is only slightly more true than the story that we used to eat babies. I'm afraid some of us were killed, but the rest of us fled west with a few sheep and plows and things, and we've been living out here ever since, trying to stay one step ahead of the Sisters. We've managed quite well up until now. But a few months back, we got word that Domia's mother was dying. We still have contacts in the homelands who pass us news about things we need to know. So Domia went back to see her mother one last time and was caught by the temple Guards." Gina's face was grim. "I know none of us want to think too much about how they did it, but somehow they forced her to tell them where we are."

"The major has a map," Kim said.

"Really? Poor Domia." Gina sighed and her head dropped. "She wouldn't have betrayed us easily. Anyway, we're stuck. We can't afford to desert the farm right now. The crops are all planted, and if we don't get to harvest them, we'll starve this winter."

Kim was staring at the ground, thinking rapidly. Regardless of whether the rest of Gina's story was true, it made sense of the way the mission had been organized. Reinforcing religious doctrine was a job for the Guards, and they would not hesitate to kill every last heretic they found. But if the Rangers had been sent alone, they would surely have thought twice when, instead of armed bandits, they met farmers in their fields.

Kim looked at the heretic leader and asked, "So what are you going to do?"

"We're going to attack the column tomorrow, before they can get to our farm."

"How many women do you have?"

"What you see here."

Kim was incredulous. "You're going to attack a hundred Guards with a mere dozen women!"

"Well, we have a plan. Actually, we have several. They all depend on circumstances, but it looks like we're going to be lucky with one of the better plans for tomorrow. And there are some more of us up ahead, with other plans, in case this one fails."

"You're hoping to inflict serious injuries?"

"Yes. I'm afraid they won't turn around if we settle for just asking them politely," Gina said ironically.

"There's a squadron of Rangers in the company."

"I know. And I don't mean it as flattery when I say that in some ways, they worry us more than the Guards."

"They are my friends."

"I'm sorry." Gina's voice made it clear that the regret was genuine. "We won't be able to distinguish between them and the Guards, and our lives are at stake. If I had the option, I wouldn't even kill the Guards. Their only crime is to believe a set of lies they've been told ever since they were babies. But we aren't going to lie down and let them butcher us."

Kim's head dropped. She looked despairingly at her bound hands. She bore the heretics no ill will, but she had to warn Chip if she could get the chance. Not that it seemed likely. Even as she sat considering her options, she saw the rest of the heretics were making their preparations to sleep. Gina came and put a hand on her head.

"Right, I'm going to send you to sleep now. Do you have any last question?"

Kim bit her lip and then shrugged, but as the waves of drowsiness swallowed her, she mumbled, half-heartedly, "You didn't explain how prostate glands fit into it."

CHAPTER FIFTEEN-CHOICES AND OPTIONS

stiff breeze from the north sprang up overnight and was

gusting over the hillside and shaking the bushes around the campsite when Kim was awakened before dawn the next day. For some reason, this seemed to please the heretics enormously, and they all offered congratulations to the weather-wise woman who had predicted it the day before. For her part, Kim would rather have done without the chill wind in the cold hour preceding daybreak.

Both moons had set, so nothing challenged the brilliance of the stars. Kim studied them as she huddled by the snapping fire, eating the hurried breakfast that was offered to her. She hardly knew what to make of Gina's story, but it was a strangely moving thought that other people might be walking on planets beneath those distant suns. Kim's gaze traveled across the glittering heavens as she tried to analyze her thoughts.

Religion had never been a major preoccupation of hers. In fact, like most Rangers, she had deliberately adopted an irreverent manner, in contrast to the Guards. If pressed, she would have said she believed the teaching of the temple. It would take a lot to accept that Celaeno was just a mechanical creation, a ship. Kim did not know if she could believe it, or if she wanted to.

The black sky to the east was showing the first signs of paling when the heretics finished their preparations and began to disperse. They headed off, in ones and twos, until only Gina, Kim, and one other were left at the camp. This third woman took a lookout post atop a nearby knoll, while Gina helped herself to an extra half-bowl of porridge and sat down beside Kim.

"How do you feel this morning?" Gina asked in her role as healer.

"A bit stiff and sore."

"But lucky to be feeling anything?"

"Definitely."

Gina took a few more mouthfuls of breakfast and said, "Just before going to sleep last night, you asked about prostate glands."

"Are they important?"

"Not to you or me. Women don't have them."

"So what does?" Kim asked, slightly confused. Something she was getting used to feeling around Gina.

"Who, not what."

"But you said..." Kim broke off and frowned.

"As a Ranger, you learn a lot about the non-domestic animals on this planet, don't you?"

"Yes," Kim agreed, though she did not see the relevance.

"And you know how they reproduce?"

"Only in general terms. You probably understand the biology of it better than I do. But I know they have males who can transmit their genetic material to the females to produce young."

"Right. Well, all the species that have males as well as females are native to this planet. And all the others were brought here by the Elder-Ones. But this is..." Gina stopped, halted by a sudden gesture from Kim. "Yes?"

"Would that explain why the two groups are poisonous to each other?"

"Yes. Our chemical makeup is, quite literally, alien."

"So that would explain the moggies." Kim's face held a thoughtful expression. "The Sisters say Celaeno had to give the wild animals a different method of reproduction, since the Cloners couldn't get near them. But that doesn't explain why you get male moggies."

Gina nodded. "Moggies are a native species that our ancestors domesticated, hence they have males. We need them to catch the indigenous vermin that would otherwise infest the grain stores. And in order to be able to eat the vermin, they have to be indigenous as well."

"But what has this to do with prostate glands?"

"Ah. Now that was what I was coming to. When the Sisters say that Himoti made the first Cloners and Imprinters, they're actually telling the truth, albeit that she made them using scientific instruments rather than prayer. Before her, there were no Imprinters."

"So how did people reproduce on the original home planet?"

"Same as the creatures here. There were two sexes. And one of the many distinguishing features was that the males had prostate glands."

"Human males!" Kim did not know whether to be amused or shocked. "But that would be..."

Gina laughed at the open-eyed astonishment on Kim's face, and almost against her will, Kim joined in until the pair were helpless with a fit of giggles.

"That can't be true. I mean, apart from anything else, why would they change if that was what they were used to?" Kim asked once she had her breath back.

"This planet was just a touch too alien for the males. The grass pollen here mimics certain hormones, which destroyed their ability to function in creating children. It was Himoti who worked out a way around the problem this caused."

Kim looked at the elderly woman. "If you make a habit of going around saying things like this, you must give the Chief Consultant nightmares."

"Oh, I do hope so."

Kim picked up a few dropped twigs with her bound hands and fed them into the fire, still shaking her head slightly. Gina watched her for a while and then said, "We won't be holding you prisoner after today. You'll be free to go back to the homelands if you want."

Gina's last three words had a querying edge, which Kim picked up on. "Do I have an option?"

"Yes."

"To stay out here with you and your followers?" Kim suggested.

"We'd be pleased to have you. You have skills we'd find very useful."

The smile on Kim's face faded as her thoughts turned to the future and to what was planned for that day. She stared bleakly at the ground. When she made no attempt to reply, Gina added, "I would have thought being nearly murdered by your commanding officer was a very strong motive for desertion."

"Oh, yes. And there's nothing else I want to go back for, but..."

"But?"

Kim took several deep breaths before speaking, her face somber. "Today you're going to try and kill some women who are my friends. I know it's not fair to blame you, but I couldn't live among you, not with my comrades' blood between us."

"Yes." Gina nodded slowly. "Yes, I can see that. We must all make our choices and live with the consequences. I am truly sorry...It wasn't quite what I was intending when I began reading the books in the library."

"And would you change things, if you had your time again?" Kim raised her head.

The elderly woman met the Ranger's earnest gaze with a rueful, crooked pout. "Some. I'd try to avoid the mistakes so a few more people would be left alive. But I couldn't ignore my curiosity, or the truth. The choices and options of our lives all come with a price attached."

Kim looked away sharply. If the heretic's plan succeeded, by nightfall, there would be an unbridgeable barrier of grief between her and Gina, which was a cause of regret in itself. Regardless of doubts concerning her sanity, there was something about the heretic leader that Kim could not help liking and respecting. In an odd way, she reminded Kim of Captain LeCoup.

Gina stood up, patted Kim on the shoulder, and hobbled a few steps away, sensing Kim's need of space. While they had been talking, the day had grown brighter. The sun was yet to make its appearance above the mountains to the east, but the sky was already pale blue, with a yellowish tinge that promised another long, hot day, despite the wind. For the first time, Kim could study the landscape before them. The camp was on the northern hills above a flat plain, where the ground sloped down gently to the south before it rose again in a long, stony ridge about three kilometers away. The wind chased waves through the dry grass covering the floor of the basin.

The second heretic left her watch post and wandered back to the fire.

"Can you see them?" Gina asked anxiously.

"Not yet, but I'd better get in position before the sun rises."

"Okay."

"What should we do about the prisoner?" Both heretics looked in Kim's direction. "You aren't going to be able to cope with her if she slips free."

"I'm going to give her a choice," Gina answered decisively. She came back to the fireside and lowered herself awkwardly, so her eyes were on a level with Kim's, then said, "And your choice is this. I can knock you out again, or you can give me your word that you won't try to escape or warn the Guards or sabotage the plan."

"You'd trust her?" The second heretic sounded slightly incredulous.

"Yes. If she gives her word." There was no doubt in Gina's voice. "I'd even untie her hands."

Kim bowed her head as she considered her options. Either way she was not going to be able to help Chip, and it would be hard to live with, but the doubts would be less if she at least knew what happened to her friends. Kim raised her eyes to meet with Gina's and said, "I'll do what you say. You have my word on it."

Time passed slowly. The sun lifted clear of the distant peaks to their left, the heat began to rise, and the wind picked up a haze of dust that shimmered in the oblique morning light over the grasslands, but still there was no sign of the column of soldiers. Gina was getting increasingly nervous. She glanced back to Kim.

"What time did you normally start moving?"

"About an hour before now."

"Something's happened. Damn...damn." Gina's voice was tight, fearful.

Kim could almost feel sorry for the heretic, but her heart was cheered by the thought Chip and the other Rangers might avoid whatever had been planned for them. And then, just as she was beginning to hope some other outcome was possible, she saw at the edge of the plateau, the dark shapes of mounted soldiers riding two by two down from the eastern uplands. The dust rendered them obscure, just little black silhouettes that crawled across the landscape, devoid of detail, as insignificant as children's toys. Even their numbers seemed reduced, and the red of the Guards' uniforms was indiscernible.

Not for the first time, Kim wondered about the nature of the plan. Despite the implausibility of the small band of heretics inflicting serious damage on over a hundred trained warriors, somehow she never doubted that Gina's plan would be effective. Deadly effective. Kim watched and waited and feared the worst.

The soldiers were due south of the camp, nearly halfway across the plain when Kim saw a trail of smoke rising at the foot of the hills to the east. Then another plume appeared, and another. In less than a minute, twelve columns of smoke were reaching up to the blue sky, forming an arc to the north of the soldiers. Kim's eyes darted back to the line of mounted women. Amazingly, they were still riding in formation, as if they had not noticed the spread of the fires. Minutes passed and still the column continued, undeterred.

Chip, you clown, wake up and use your eyes. Kim almost spoke aloud. And at last, the company halted. Yet instead of an orderly response, avoiding the hazard, they milled around, some continuing to go forward, some standing still, some already heading south, away from the advancing flames. And the flames were advancing more and more quickly, as the wind did the job the heretics had obviously intended. Already, the dozen original fires had nearly joined to make a blazing semi-circle that was whipped through the tinder-dry grass by the strong gusts, its spread assisted by the heretics. Then all the soldiers at once seemed to become aware of their danger. They spun about and raced for the safety of the rocky hills on the far side of the basin.

"Fools. They've let the horses have their heads!" Kim shouted in disgust. "What's wrong with Chip today?" She came and stood by Gina's shoulder, watching the scene before her, though the wall of smoke was making it increasingly difficult. Then she looked to the woman beside her. "Okay. You'll give them a scare. Maybe a few will get caught, but most will outrun the flames."

"Actually, the fires aren't the real threat." Gina spoke almost sadly.

"Then what is?" Kim shouted.

Gina did not answer the question directly. She turned her back on the grassland and looked toward the east, her expression pained. "I don't doubt they used barbaric means to get Domia to draw them the map, before they executed her. But all they wanted, and all she'd have told them, is the shortest route to where our farm is. What we're counting on is that they don't know that the most treacherous marsh in these mountains covers the south side of this basin. It's just a mat of floating grass on a lake of mud and tar. All we needed was the luck of the wind, and we didn't need much of that. At this time of year, a strong northerly blows two days out of three."

"Chip will spot the change in vegetation. She won't let the squadron just plow into it." But Kim spoke mainly to bolster her own hopes. Chip clearly was not on form that day, and the panicked horses

would be impossible to stop.

"I'm sorry, Kim. I really am." Gina's voice was raw with regret.

Kim turned horrified eyes back to the plain, but by now, there was nothing to see, just a solid wall of red flames and smoke, obscuring the soldiers, the marsh, and the hill beyond. Kim stumbled to the campfire and sat with her face buried in her hands, fighting back the tears.

By midday, the last of the fires was out, halted by the wetlands, and reports began to arrive at the campsite. Kim had been through enough desperate fights to know that you never gave up hope until the final body count was made, but the waiting was hell. And, as always when bad news was expected, the old memories clawed at the edges of her mind. Her parents' farmhouse and the strange stillness when she had returned on that day, twelve years ago. Even before she pushed open the door to the kitchen, she had known something awful had happened, but she had not been prepared for what lay within. Nothing could ever have prepared her for that sight. Kim's eyes fixed, unseeing, on the distance, remembering her childish oath never to care for anyone again, so she could never be hurt by their loss. She was old enough now to know that such emotional isolation was not possible and also to know that revenge was a very poor remedy for grief.

The first news received was that several prisoners had been taken. Dragged, still breathing, from the mud. The numbers were later confirmed at twenty-seven, although there were no details of their identity. Kim tried to take encouragement from the tidings, but even if all the survivors were Rangers, it would still mean that some of the squadron had perished. However, the waiting was nearly over. Everyone who could be rescued had been, and the captives were being brought to the camp to talk to Gina. The line of prisoners and their mounted escort could be seen advancing across the blackened plain.

Throughout the long morning, the heretics had tactfully given Kim a wide berth, but now Gina came to sit beside her. "You'll be heading back to the homelands?" It was not really a question, and Gina's voice held no expectation of disagreement.

Without looking at the elderly heretic, Kim nodded her head. "Yes."

"Then it would be wisest if none of the prisoners saw you here. If the Sisters know I have had the chance to tell you my story, then it could seriously damage the chances of you seeing your next birthday, especially as you don't seem too popular with them to start off with. You could hide in the tent over there until I'm finished talking to the prisoners."

The tent in question was a makeshift affair, designed to shield the food from the worst of the sun. Kim went over and ducked inside then pulled the door flap closed, although still leaving a slight gap so she could see what happened. Soon the sounds of talking and horses' hooves announced the arrival of the captives. All the heretics were present as the sorry party was brought into the camp. They further obscured Kim's view, but not enough to stop her from counting all twenty-seven women and seeing not a Ranger among them. Most bitter of all, Rozek stood at the head of the prisoners.

The anguish hit Kim with an almost physical pain before disbelief swept in. How could the city Guards survive and not a single wilderness-trained Ranger? Some must have eluded both the mud and the heretics. Kim swore she would go to the marsh and not rest until she had searched thoroughly. But in the meantime, there was the interview with Rozek to hear, and even in her mental torment, Kim could not repress a certain satisfaction in seeing the arrogant major, hands tied, with a soot-smeared face and clothes so soaked in mud that the vibrant red had to be imagined rather than seen.

Gina was also amused, judging by her tone. "Hello, and welcome to our humble camp."

"Doubt not that Celaeno is Goddess over all, and Himoti is her favored disciple, for all who turn their back on her law shall be eternally damned." Whatever else, Rozek's faith had not been shaken, not that it impressed the heretics.

"Oh dear. I hope you're going to say something a bit more sensible than just quoting fiction at us." Gina spoke as if addressing a small child.

"The words of the Goddess shall be as a shield to the faithful."

"Unless I'm missing something, the words of the Goddess have been remarkably ineffective at preventing her faithful from being defeated."

The logic cut enough for Rozek to abandon her quotes. "Only because of treachery."

"And who has betrayed you?"

"As if you didn't know. Your allies, the gutless Rangers."

Kim almost leaped from her place of hiding to demand to know what was meant by the remark, but she restrained herself. Gina also seemed taken aback. "If the Rangers did something that helped us, then I'm most grateful to them. But it wasn't arranged, and to be honest, I don't even know what it was."

"They led us into this ambush, and then last night, they all ran away and deserted us."

"I thought you were led here by information you extracted from one of my followers," Gina pointed out reasonably. However, Kim did not hear the remark, or any of the next few exchanges. She was caught, uncomfortably, between laughter and tears, resulting in hiccups, which she stifled as best she could. By the time she was able to return her attention to the confrontation, it was clear that Rozek had lost her temper and Gina her patience.

"You're depraved murderers, and you will pay for it one day!" the Guard major shouted.

You'd know all about murder, Kim thought.

Gina also looked at Rozek with contempt. "We only kill in self-defense. We aren't even going to execute you, though I don't doubt you wouldn't show the same mercy to us, were our positions reversed. I estimate it will take you about thirty-five days to walk back to the Sisters' Homelands on foot, so we'll give you enough supplies and point you in the right direction." Gina paused for effect and then stuck her finger out to the east. "It's that way. Now pick up the saddlebags and start walking."

A lengthy period of complaint and muttered comments was accompanied by jeers from the heretics, but eventually the Guards were leaving the campsite, heading east, with a couple of mounted heretics monitoring their departure.

"I'll come back for you. I swear it," Rozek shouted from the distance.

"I'm sorry, pet, but we aren't going to hang around waiting for you," Gina said softly, mainly for the benefit of her followers.

Kim emerged from the tent and walked over to the heretic leader.

"You heard what Rozek said?" Gina asked when she saw Kim.

"Yes."

"Good news for you, but I'm not so certain about us. I don't know if I like the thought of a squadron of Rangers loose in the mountains."

"Maybe it could work out for us both."

"In what way?"

"Rozek accused the Rangers of desertion. I don't know why they went. There was probably more to it than just thinking I'd been killed. But whatever the reason, they can't go back to the Homelands. When Rozek makes her report, the Guards will be only too pleased for someone to blame for their losses. The Rangers will be convenient scapegoats. You said you could make use of my skills. Do you think you could make room for a whole squadron?"

Gina looked thoughtful. "Possibly...possibly. Some adjustments will be needed on both sides, but possibly." Her right eye looked appraisingly at Kim. "Find your comrades and talk to them. If they are willing to join us, bring them here, and we will discuss it further."

"How long will you stay at this camp?"

"At least five days. We must make sure the major and her women keep on walking and don't try to double back." Gina reached out and put her hand on Kim's arm. "Take a horse and anything else you need. And may the Goddess watch over you."

Kim smiled. That dawn, when the heretics were heading off, she had heard the appropriate rejoinder several times. She used it now. "And may a malfunctioning starship in geo-stationary orbit watch over you."

The Rangers had made little attempt to disguise their tracks. It said much about their opinion of the Guards' abilities. Kim was able to follow the trail without dismounting. Her guess was that after deserting, the Rangers would have put ten or twelve kilometers between themselves and the Guards and then found an easily defended spot to rest out the day and following night.

Dusk was drawing close as Kim rode along the bottom of a winding valley, underneath the spreading branches of tall trees. Despite bruises that were still tender, she felt at peace for the first time in months. She had always been happiest out in the wildlands, away from the regulations, the temples, the Sisters, and the Guards. A smile crossed Kim's face as she remembered Rozek, covered in mud and soot, trying to intimidate Gina with her quotes from the book of the Elder-Ones. The image was one that she would always treasure.

The light was fading fast. Kim was starting to consider stopping her hunt and resuming the next morning, when she heard the whinny of a horse. The squadron must be encamped less than a kilometer ahead, although any sign of their presence was well disguised. Kim had no doubts that the site would be better defended than anything seen so far on the mission. Her smile broadened. The most junior Ranger could give Rozek lessons in how to be a soldier.

The debate had been going around in circles all afternoon. Only two options were available, and no one was particularly happy with either. As Chip had pointed out, there was only one place to go. The Rangers, with their skills, could cope well enough in the wilds during the summer, sticking to a vegetarian diet, but the resources necessary to survive the winter could only be found in the Homelands. The issue was whether the Rangers went back to live inside or outside the law.

After a life devoted to hunting bandits, none of the Rangers was keen on the latter option, but the outcome was very chancy if they threw themselves on the mercy of the Ranger Command and surrendered. Even if they could convince the authorities at Fort Krowe that desertion had been justified, the Guards were unlikely to be so understanding, and if the Sisters got involved, the chances of a pardon became still more remote.

The whole squadron, with the exception of a few sentries, was gathered around the fire. Most were sitting on the ground, though some at the rear leaned against the encircling trees so as to better see the various speakers.

"You could always say you heard me escaping and you all came after me, knowing it would take the entire squadron to recapture me."

Chip's suggestion was at least as sensible as some others, although less seriously meant.

"There's no-" another Ranger began and then stopped sharply as a low, rippling whistle sounded from the trees.

The signal was from one of the sentries, warning of someone approaching. In an instant, the whole camp was at the ready, but before any action could be taken, a second whistle sounded, this one with a rising note. The code sign by which one Ranger identified her position to another.

"What are they playing at?" Chip muttered in confusion, her hand moving to the hilt of her sword. Surely the Guards could not have traced them? And why were the sentries signaling to each other?

A sudden cry of alarm issued from the sentry, but even as swords were whipped free of their scabbards, the yell turned to an unmistakable whoop of delight. The Rangers around the fire looked at each other uncertainly, wondering what was happening. At Chip's signal, they spread out so as not to present a solid target, and archers slipped to positions at the edge, from where they could get a clear line of sight. All were facing the direction of the sounds when the sentry herself emerged from the bushes accompanied by a woman it took everyone a few disbelieving seconds to identify.

Kim walked forward into the firelight, a broad grin on her face, and finally broke the stunned silence. "You know, Chip, I hate to use clichés, but you look like you've seen a ghost."

"Kim?" Chip's voice was hushed. "You fell into that river. We saw you."

Kim shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "I can swim."

There was no chance to say more. With tears in her eyes, Chip launched herself forward, flinging her arms around her friend, and threatening to unbalance them both. Kim laughed and said lightheartedly, "Hey, steady on, you don't want to make Katryn jealous."

Not that any risk of that existed, as within an instant, Katryn was also there, wrapping them both in an embrace, followed by as many of the others as could get close enough to pat Kim's back or rub her head. It was not in any of the books of standard military procedures, but no one was bothered.

It was some time before all the recounting of events was completed, but in the end, the decision was very straightforward, a unanimous vote that the Rangers would join with the heretics. Although many were unsure or unhappy about the atheist beliefs, it seemed to offer a fair and free life, and the squadron had no other honorable option. With over sixty dead Guards to avenge and the predictable contents of Rozek's report laying part of the blame on the Rangers, there was no hope of the squadron being accepted back.

The meeting was about to disperse when Chip stood up one last time, holding out her hands for attention. The murmuring around the camp stilled. "Okay. So we're all deserters and have seen our last pay packet. But can I take it we still want to function as a squadron, and I'm still your lieutenant?" A loud succession of cheers and whistles left no doubt that this was agreed. Once the noise quieted, Chip went on, "Well, a squadron needs a captain, and since we won't be getting one from Fort Krowe, we'll have to make our own arrangements and vote for a leader. I would like to start by nominating ex-Lieutenant Kimberly Ramon."

The second burst of applause was if anything, louder than the first. No other nominees were put forward, and the final vote was also unanimous.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN-A DREAM FOR THE FUTURE

im was not sure exactly what she had been expecting of the

heretics' farm. Gina had warned her that it was little more than a collection of temporary huts, and she had accordingly overlaid the image of hovels onto a memory of her parents' farm. What she had not been ready for was something the size of a village, comprised of fifty to sixty round huts, the home to nearly two hundred women, plus their cows, sheep, pigs, chickens, and horses. The buildings were arranged around a central square. They all had conical, turf-covered roofs, and dry stone walls, about a meter high, the cracks filled with mud and grass. Judging by the trails of smoke seeping from the apex of the roofs, the ones in the middle provided dwellings for the inhabitants. The outer huts were slightly more variable in size, and were doubtless storehouses and animal byres.

The place gave the overwhelming impression of poverty, which Kim found hard to pin down. After all, many farm laborers in the Homelands lived in conditions that were equally basic, if not worse. The heretics themselves all looked well fed and clothed, and the farmlands were clearly fertile. Fields golden with ripening corn were interspersed with rows of beans, cabbages, and other vegetables. Thriving herds dotted the surrounding hills.

Only when she had dismounted in the open space at the center of the village and looked around did Kim finally put her finger on the discrepancy. It was the uniformity of the community. In a place of a similar size in the homelands, a few, the poorest, at the fringes, would have been living in an even worse state, but there would have been others in fine homes of dressed stone, with tiled roofs and under-floor heating. The village would have had a welcoming tavern, a public bathhouse, and a council hall, the main civic building, which would have functioned as school, law court, meeting room, and church at the appropriate times. There would have been gardens. And without these, the place seemed uncivilized, crude, and shoddy.

Word of the Rangers' arrival had spread, and a fair number of heretics had left their work to watch the column of green and gray clad women ride in. As she ran her eyes over the gathering, another difference to the homelands struck Kim. Many elderly faces were dotted among the crowd, but the range of ages hit a sharp cutoff at the other end. There were no young girls abandoning their lessons to run behind the Rangers, or toddlers peering from behind their mothers' legs, and Kim found their absence far more unsettling than she would have believed.

Kim did not have long to dwell on her first impressions. Gina was waiting at the head of a small group of elders who welcomed the Rangers to the village. The welcome was noticeable both in its informality and in the speed with which it turned to practical matters: which huts had been cleared for barracks, where the horses should go, who could allocate food. Kim managed to restrain a broad grin. It was anyone's guess how the two groups, the Rangers and the heretics, would get on, but it was evident they both started with a common disregard for time-wasting ceremonies.

Later that night, when everyone had settled, Kim had a chance to talk things over with the heretic leader. They sat outside the hut where Gina lived with her partner and three other couples in communal domestic arrangements that seemed to exist in a permanent state of happy, although noisy, chaos.

"Have any of your Rangers begun to regret their decision to join us?" Gina asked.

"Not that I've heard. How are your people feeling?"

Gina pursed her lips and waggled a hand horizontally in answer.

"What don't they like?"

"Not all are convinced of the wisdom of admitting a large group of armed soldiers when you don't share our religious beliefs."

"Shouldn't that be lack of religious beliefs?"

Gina smiled. "Maybe."

"They aren't worried at us eating our way through your food stores?"

"I shouldn't think so. It looks like it will be a good harvest. There will be plenty to see us all through winter, and food has never been a problem so far. However, now that the Guards know we're here, we'll have to move. Rozek won't get back to Landfall for well over a month, and they won't have time to assemble another company before winter makes the mission impossible, but we must not still be here come spring." Gina looked rueful. "It will be the third time we've been forced to move. I can guarantee that everyone will be extremely grateful for thirty capable, robust women to help rebuild the settlement. You're going to work for your keep, believe me."

Kim looked at the glittering array of stars that hung above them, her thoughts adding things together. "So it's the need to keep moving that stops you from building better homes?"

The implied low opinion of the village had not been intended as criticism, but Gina hung her head. Eventually she said, "Yes. When we first fled here we...I had hopes. At the first site, we began to lay out a proper settlement. We had nearly completed the bathhouse when we had to run again. The work we put into it...we've never had the enthusiasm to make a real start again. But I feel so guilty. These people listened to me, and look where it's gotten them."

"You could move farther west. So far that the Guards would never find you. You've got the whole planet to hide in."

"We still have a lot of adherents in the homelands, and their numbers are slowly growing, despite the efforts of the Guards to identify them. We can't desert them. They must have somewhere they can escape to if they get discovered. And also there are certain essential items we can't make ourselves, so we have to send people back from time to time to procure things."

Kim was silent for so long, eventually Gina turned and asked, "What are you thinking?"

"A compromise, of sorts."

"Which is?"

"Once you've finished moving the village, it doesn't strike me that you're going to need the Rangers much to help with the farming, except maybe at harvest time," Kim said.

"True."

"Which means we can be freed to do what we've been trained for: patrolling large areas of wilderness, and fighting. The village could move another thirty days west of here, a distance that would strain the supplies of anyone who came looking for it. We Rangers could patrol this region, meeting any escaping refugees, and harrying any Guards.

We could pick a strong defensive site for the village and fortify it, because now you've got a proper fighting force to garrison it. And once you're safe from attack, you could rebuild your bathhouse."

Gina's face was thoughtful. "I'm not sure. I'd have to talk it over with the rest. But...maybe."

"I know, it's typical. You've been here years, and then a new girl comes in and wants to change everything around." Kim's tones were self-derogatory.

"Some might see it like that. But..." Gina paused. "You can find a safe site for a permanent settlement." It was a statement rather than a question.

"Yes," Kim said in confirmation.

"Go and find it. Once we have a definite proposal, I'm sure we can talk the doubters around."

The long line of cliffs soared nearly two hundred meters, a sheer precipice of rock, overhanging the broad flood plain below. The only break for several kilometers was a hanging valley, looking for all the world as if the Goddess had placed a gigantic finger atop the escarpment and pressed halfway down. A river issued from the mouth and cascaded the remaining distance to the lowlands in plumes of white spray.

Kim and Chip stood at the top of the waterfall and took in the view. The climb up was not easy, but a little judicious work with a pickax and it would be possible to make a path that animals could be herded along in single file. The mouth of the valley was narrow, little more than fifty meters wide. With a strong wall across and a dozen archers behind it, that same path up would be suicide for any enemy force foolish enough to try attacking.

The Rangers turned their back on the low-lying plain and walked a short way along the valley to the point where the vertical sides started to draw apart. On both sides, the tops of the cliffs became ever higher, until they joined with an encircling ring of mountains. From two days of surveying, they knew the valley before them was over four kilometers long, broadening out to nearly a kilometer at its widest point. It held a small lake, good grazing, and an abundant stock of timber. Apart from the mouth, there were two, or possibly three, ways into the valley. All were treacherous and all were easily defended. The site was a little closer to the Sisters' homelands than had originally been intended for the new village but was, all in all, far too good to be dismissed. It even opened south, so as to be sheltered from the worst of the cold northerly wind.

Chip's expression made her approval evident as she said, "So, what do you think?"

"I think that with a squadron of Rangers and a strong barricade, we could hold out here against a thousand Guards."

"And their friends. If they had any."

Kim nodded, her eyes taking in the white-capped peaks, the sunlight sparkling on the lake, and the dense green forest of firs. The terrain could not have been better if had it been sculpted for their needs. That it was also beautiful was a bonus. A contented smile touched Kim's face; there were far worse places to live.

The bright day in early February held the promise of spring. A crisp blue sky arched over the valley, and sunshine painted the world in sharp, rich colors. Overnight, a thaw had cleared patches of snow, although a cold pinch in the air warned that a change in the wind could easily bring it back. The first signs of buds were already appearing on the trees.

Kim and Gina walked though the building site that was the beginnings of the village. The work of preparing for the arrival of people had progressed all through winter, whenever the weather allowed. The first year would be hard, just to do enough to establish themselves while still ensuring the fields were cleared, plowed, sown, tended, and harvested. Yet morale among the women was sky-high. Already, the site had been chosen for the bathhouse and meeting rooms, and plans had been made for stone-built houses, with proper heating and sanitation. It would not all come at once. Many years would pass before everyone would be able to move from the temporary round huts, with their damp floors and cold drafts. But it would come; the women had a dream for the future. Over the winter, a mutual regard had grown between the Rangers and the heretics. This aspect of the previous few months was the topic that Kim and Gina were discussing.

"I think it comes down to Rangers being intrinsic non-conformists," Gina said.

"What makes you say that?"

"The way you all seem quite content to toss the rule book out."

Kim pursed her lips. "It depends on what the rule is. Our discipline is very tight where it counts. But sometimes, as a Ranger, you have to choose between following the rules and staying alive. It works pretty well at whittling out the people who prefer the first option."

"Perhaps," Gina conceded. "I've only got my experience with the temple Guard to compare you with."

"Oh well, compared to the Guards, we're all raving subversives. As I'm sure Rozek would tell you, if she were here."

Gina laughed. "I've noted none of you tried quoting the book of the Elder-Ones at me."

"I doubt if many of us could remember the relevant quotes, though it may not mean that all are convinced by your arguments."

"That's hardly surprising, as I don't think you're fully convinced yourself."

Kim shrugged. "I'm trying to cultivate an open mind."

"I won't hold it against you. We heretics are too much in your debt as it is."

"Pardon?" Kim asked, confused as much by the earnestness of Gina's tone as her words.

"You brought us hope. After ten years living in crude huts, we'd given up everything apart from the aim of surviving from day to day. Well, that and feeling smug because, although we might be wet and cold, at least we knew the truth."

Kim nodded her head. "It's not been a one-way exchange. I think we Rangers are just starting to see what we've gained. The authorities like to keep Rangers flexible, so they make a point of moving us around, and they disapprove of close personal ties. We have to choose between family and the call of the wide-open spaces. Now some of us are realizing we can have them both."

"And some have realized it quicker than others."

Kim matched Gina's grin, aware that over the winter, quite a few relationships had sprung up between Rangers and heretics, but she missed the thoughtful gaze Gina directed in her direction.

After a few minutes of walking, their footsteps took them to the high wooden barricade across the mouth of the valley. From the fortified gateway, they could look down on the women with pickaxes who were modifying the path up, cutting a route which pack animals could manage, but one that would not allow more than two women to walk abreast, and one that would be exposed to arrows from above every step of the way. It was urgent work, as the entire move from the old site had to be completed inside two months at most, and much had to be transported up to the site of the new settlement.

"You know. We're going to have to think of a name for the place. Otherwise it will end up as New Village or something equally banal," Gina said.

"Too late. I've already heard people start to refer to it as Westernfort."

Gina wrinkled her nose. "Could be worse."

From their vantage point, they had a panoramic view of the broad, snow-covered lowlands. Even when work on the path to the upper valley was complete, the animals would normally be kept down there on the rich water meadows, only retreating to the safe fields behind the wall when danger was near. Currently, a herd of sheep was scattered beside the riverbank and cattle congregated under the shelter of trees, where bales of hay had been put down to supplement what other food might be found. A few rough sheds and hay barns had been built and stocked the previous autumn, the first work to be undertaken at the new farm. Of necessity, the herds had been moved before winter set in, since by now they were all heavy with young. If they had been left at the old site until spring, the presence of new lambs, calves, and piglets would have delayed the long trek until well after the time when the Guards might return to the mountains. And whatever the Rangers might feel about the tracking skills of the Guards, it did no harm that several months would have passed to cover all traces of the passage of hundreds of hooves.

As her gaze took in the animals below, a new, worried frown creased Gina's forehead.

"Is something wrong?" Kim asked.

"I was thinking about the herds."

"What about them? They seem okay."

"Oh, they are. But all the work going on here has reminded me that I need to plan slightly further ahead than I've been used to, and I'm not sure of the herds' future."

"Why not?"

"Lilian is not as young as she used to be," Gina said simply.

"Oh," Kim said in sudden understanding. "Is her health failing?"

"No. She's in very good condition for her age, but..." Gina did not need to say more.

Lilian was the heretics' Cloner, an ancient, shrunken woman who was a familiar sight, tottering around the animal pens. It was her skill with the healer sense that had called into existence the new generation of farm animals that were bulging the sides of the creatures below. Without her, there would be no others to follow. Yet, since Lilian must be well into her eighties, it was unreasonable to expect the new farm would be able to employ her services for many more years.

Gina shook her head slightly and said, "Still, it's not fair to write Lilian off too soon. She's a tough old thing and could outlive us all. And there is nothing much we can do in the way of useful planning. Except maybe a little research into a few vegetarian dishes."

"We might get a new Cloner."

"Possible, although not too likely, when you think of how rare Cloners are. For a community as small as ours, we were very lucky to get Lilian to start with."

"We could be a bit more enterprising and deliberately set out to recruit a Cloner."

Gina laughed aloud and pointed a finger at Kim. "Now that's what the Rangers bring to us-a more positive way of looking at things."

"Standard military procedure. Always plan ahead to secure your resources." Kim's voice was heavy with self-parody.

"An interesting idea." Gina bit a corner of her lip. "But it will need some thought as to how we identify a suitable convert."

Kim turned away sharply and stared out toward the row of mountains on the far horizon.

"Kim?" Gina had to ask three times before she got an answer.

"I think I might know of someone already."

"A Cloner?" Gina's voice reflected a little surprise.

"No, an Imprinter. Imprinters can clone as well, can't they?"

"Of course..." Gina paused. "I imagine you're referring to the subject of your indiscretion in the stable?" Over the winter, the full story had been recounted on many occasions.

"Yes...Lynn. She told me how much she hated being held in the temple, and she loves mountains. She might be persuaded to come here. Also, she took the full blame for everything that happened in Petersmine, which saved my life. The least I owe her is to find out whether she's safe and happy, even if she doesn't want to join us. But if we had an Imprinter, then we could have children, and that really would give us a future."

Gina studied Kim's profile thoughtfully. "You would also have slightly more personal reasons for wanting her here?"

"Well...I'm...possibly not," Kim mumbled. Her eyes slipped from the horizon and finished up somewhere much closer to her feet.

"Not?"

Kim shrugged. "I don't think it was terribly seriously meant, certainly not on her side. I mean the words she used-adolescent crush-don't point to anything heavy, and it's coming on a year since we last met. I think she'd enjoyed the freedom of the mountain fort. We'd been friends, and she was upset at parting and not thinking too clearly. Otherwise, surely she'd have made things obvious before, rather than blurting it out after the time when she was supposed to have left."

Gina's face held a slightly skeptical look, although all she said was, "And how about you?"

"Oh...I was mainly caught by surprise. Yes...I liked her, but I'm a Ranger." Kim pulled a wry face. "It's almost part of the job to try your luck with half the women you meet." She sighed heavily, then shook her head. "For this settlement to have a long-term future, we need an Imprinter, and Imprinters have to be celibate."

Gina looked as if she was about to say something and then changed her mind, although she continued to watch Kim thoughtfully. After a long pause she said, "Getting an Imprinter out of a temple won't be easy. We need to carefully evaluate the risks and benefits."

"Of course," Kim agreed.

"If we do decide to go for it, it would be better if the attempt was made as soon as possible, before Rozek starts crawling around the mountains again."

"That's no problem. I'm quite used to traveling during winter. I could leave within days."

"You're assuming you'll be the one to go?" Gina's voice was lightly amused.

"Try and talk me out of it."

"I want to go as well." Chip's voice was quietly adamant, but Kim shook her head.

"One of us has to be left here in command."

"So why don't you stay? I'd have said that I was far more expendable than you."

Kim looked at her friend in slight confusion. "Why are you so eager?"

"I've already said. Because I think I owe her. Owe you both. Remember, it was me who put my foot in it."

"That's hardly a recommendation for a tricky mission."

Chip sank her head into her hands and then raised it again to look out over the small lake. Evening was falling on Westernfort, and work was stopping for the night. A moon was glimmering in the darkening sky and reflected on the ice-bound water. That afternoon it had been agreed that Kim would go after Lynn, leaving before the middle of the month. The only thing remaining was to work out who else would be in the party. Chip chewed on her lip as she tried to think of more arguments for her own inclusion, but nothing came to mind.

"Chip? There's more to it than feeling guilty, isn't there?" Kim asked softly.

Chip shrugged one shoulder. "Are you still interested in her?"

"What's that got to do with it?"

"It might affect whether she's still an Imprinter when she gets here." Chip could not bring herself to meet Kim's eyes, but carried on in a rush. "I know it's not a fair thing for me to put on you, but Katryn and I wanted kids. Well, at least one, and joining the heretics, we thought we had to forget it, but if Lynn comes here and she's still an Imprinter, even for a short while, then..." The trail of words ground to a halt.

Kim put her arm around Chip's shoulder. "So you wanted to come along and make sure we were never left alone together?"

"Oh, nothing that crass. I was just going to let you know what it meant to me, and then stand around looking pathetically miserable any time the pair of you seemed to be getting along too well. I'm not proud. I don't mind stooping to emotional blackmail."

Kim laughed. "How would I tell your pathetically miserable look from your normal one?"

"I'd make suitable hand signals." Chip turned and faced Kim.

"But forgetting the jokes, Lynn coming here would mean so much to Katryn and me. I want to come and help on the mission because it's so important."

Kim's expression became serious. "That's all right. But you've got nothing to worry about. I'm going to do everything possible to get her here safely, and I'm going to do it because the village needs an Imprinter, with all that implies, and not because I like my chances with her. In fact, I don't even expect Lynn to still be interested in me. What happened in the stable was a mistake, on both sides. She was feeling lonely and miserable, and I...Well, you know my record with women."

"Record is the right word, and that's partly what worries me," Chip said forlornly, and then took a deep breath. "Although I'll admit you've slowed down a little over the years."

"It's called growing up." Kim punched her friend's arm gently. "Don't worry. I promise you, I'll get her here and she'll still be an Imprinter when she arrives."

PART THREE

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN-IN CLOTHES LIKE THESE

ometimes in the temple you had good days, and sometimes

you had bad days, and usually you could not be bothered to spot the difference between the two. Lynn stood in the imprinting chapel, feeling not so much exhausted as drained. Drained of all energy and enthusiasm, drained of the ability to take pleasure in the smiling faces of the young couple before her, drained of life. Surely the most ironic state for an Imprinter to reach, yet one they all got to in the end. Being told of Kim's death had simply pushed Lynn into it a bit sooner than expected. She was still one of the better Imprinters in the temple, but she no longer stood out as exceptional.

The change had Sister Dunsin both peeved and confused. Showing Lynn the dispatch from the Rangers should have improved the cynical Imprinter's respect for the will of the Goddess and should have enhanced her discipline, making her better able to do Celaeno's work. That it had not was obviously Lynn's fault in some way that the dogmatic Sister had yet to pinpoint, beyond a general confirmation that sins of lust were as damaging to an Imprinter's talent as the teachings of Himoti warned. Lynn could sometimes reach an odd, dispassionate sympathy for the woman. Dunsin was not particularly malicious or stupid; she was just hampered by her beliefs, which insisted on providing her with answers before she had the chance to start thinking.

In the chapel, the couplets of the litany of thanks stumbled on. Keeping up required no concentration. Lynn latched onto the rhythm, and the words were so familiar she could recite them in her sleep. From the advance of shadows across the wall, Lynn estimated she had been in the imprinting trance for nearly three hours, pretty much average for her over the past few months. With the nearest thing she had felt to pleasure all day, Lynn realized it was now too late for her to be introduced to another couple of prospective parents. She had only to finish the family prayers, offer her private thanks in Himoti's oratory, and then she would be free until the evening meal. Unless Dunsin caught her first.

The escort of Guards fell into place around her as she left the chapel, clearing a way through the crowds of worshipers and bystanders who always wanted to congregate in the most awkward of places. Most sidestepped quickly, but those too lost in religious awe to shift in time were roughly elbowed aside by the Guardswoman in the lead. None should hinder an Imprinter, the chosen of the Goddess, the woman in blue, whose aloof, glazed stare seemed oblivious of the ordinary folk and the circle of reverence that surrounded her.

In truth, Lynn was so tired she was scarcely aware of the flow of people in the temple-the march of the Guards, the shuffling of the public, or the purposeful, yet sedate, progress of the occasional white-robed Sister across the great hall, but her eyes did fix on the open exit and the brief flash of daylight beyond. Then it was gone, and in its place loomed the entrance to the sanctum. Lynn passed through the hanging curtains alone, into the corridors of the quiet inner sanctum, the preserve of the initiates.

Himoti's oratory was deserted when she entered. The only movement was the flicker of candlelight. The flames danced in the draft as Lynn closed the door. She knelt before the small shrine, her eyes fixed on the traditional carved fresco. She was supposed to be offering thanks for the gift of life, yet no words rose in her heart. The festival of Landfall had been celebrated only a few weeks before, sharpening the memories of the same time the previous year at the mountain fort. How could she give thanks when life was so unfair, so devoid of hope? It would not help even if she could believe Dunsin's constant preaching: that Kim had ensnared her using cheap, sordid tricks; that Kim had wanted to harm her, violate her; and that the Goddess had inflicted a just punishment on the sinful Ranger. Because if she believed that, then life would be devoid of any value, any beauty, any thing worth caring about.

Dunsin was probably consulting her books at that very moment, devising new lectures to bombast her protégé back into the full grace of the Goddess. Even as the thought occurred to Lynn, the door opened and a tall Sister stepped into the oratory. Lynn's spirits sank still lower, if that were possible, but a quick sideways glance showed it was not her mentor. The masked figure was too lightly built for the thickset Dunsin.

The unknown Sister knelt beside her at the shrine, and for a few seconds there was silence before the new arrival said quietly, "Please don't shout or run away, but I need to talk to you."

"Pardon?" Lynn said in total bewilderment. The line was hardly a conventional opening for a Sister to use.

"I need to talk to you. And for starters, is it okay for me to be here? I followed you from the great hall, but I don't know whether a Sister is supposed to come into this room."

Lynn froze, unable to accept that she recognized the voice. She turned her head and met the level pair of eyes above the mask. "Kim?" The name was mimed more than spoken.

"Yes."

"They said you were dead."

"Not quite, but not for the lack of them trying."

Lynn's gaze darted back to the shrine as she concentrated on breathing, on reassuring herself she was not dreaming or hallucinating.

"Lynn? Are you all right?"

"I...I think so."

"Is it okay for me to be here? I can't risk attracting attention."

Lynn tried to pull herself together. "Er...yes...It...it would not be unusual...certainly not enough to...er...concern anyone."

"Good. I'm sorry to just appear like this, but there was no way to warn you first."

"That's all right, I was..." Lynn's words halted. "You are...really here, aren't you?"

Kim laughed softly. "If ever I come back as a ghost, I promise I won't do it in clothes like these."

"Right." A confusion of emotions chased across Lynn's face and she could feel her eyes were dangerously close to filling with tears. She concentrated on the carving of the shrine while her mind tried to come to terms with what was happening.

The robed figure beside her glanced toward the door and then began talking quickly. "Now please, listen. I don't want to be here too long. I wanted to talk to you about...well, two things really. First, I wanted to be sure that you're all right."

"Me?" Lynn looked back at the disguised Ranger, fighting with the sense of unreality that was threatening to run away with her.

"Yes. Your confession was read out at the court-martial. It saved my life, but I've been really worried about what might have happened to you because of it."

"Oh...um..." Lynn struggled for words. "As I told Coppelli, the Sisters weren't going to risk harming me. You needn't have worried. I wasn't in any danger, not like..." She stopped again. "You. Are you all right? I saw what happened to you. I...I'm sorry. It was my fault. I didn't-"

Kim cut her off. "I'm fine. Honestly. As long as you're all right, the rest doesn't matter, and we haven't got time to talk about it now because there is a lot I need to tell you. It's hard to know where to start. Did you hear that the whole 23rd Squadron deserted last autumn, me included?"

"Deserted?" Lynn said, confused. "No, there's been nothing said about it."

"I'm not surprised. The Sisters are probably quite anxious to keep it quiet." Kim's voice sounded amused. "We've joined up with a group of heretics. They've got a small farming community way out in the western mountains, beyond the reach of the Sisters and the Guards. It's a bit basic there at the moment, but we've got plans for the future. That's the other reason why I've come to see you. At the moment, we have a Cloner at the farm, but she's very old. We need someone younger who can take over the work, and when we were talking about recruiting another Cloner, it occurred to me that an Imprinter would be better, because then we could have children at the village. I know it's a big step to take, but you'd said you didn't like living in the temple, so I'm here to see if you might be willing to come and- "

"Yes."

"...join us at..." Kim trailed off, in obvious surprise at being answered so quickly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Lynn felt not a trace of doubt.

"It's not very comfy there at the moment. We're virtually living in mud huts."

"I don't care."

"There's no proper heating. We may not finish the bathhouse for a couple of years."

Lynn fixed Kim with an ironic frown. "Aren't you supposed to be trying to talk me into it?"

Kim shrugged. "They always said I'd never earn my living as a shopkeeper, but I don't want you to commit yourself before you know what the score is."

"You said it was in the mountains?"

"Yes."

"And I'd be allowed to stand outside from time to time and look at them?"

"Of course. Whenever you wanted," Kim answered, although she sounded uncertain as to whether Lynn's question had been meant seriously.

"Then that beats anything the Sisters have ever offered me."

"But isn't there anything else you want me to tell you?"

"That I'm not dreaming."

"No, you're not." Kim gave a soft laugh. "I hadn't expected you to agree quite so quickly."

"Did you really think my answer was in doubt?"

"I...er...I didn't know quite what to think." She drew a deep breath. "Okay. So the tricky part is how to get you out of the temple."

"Can you bring me another set of Sister's robes? Then I could just walk out with you."

Kim shook her head. "It was hard enough getting these."

"The trouble is that every time I leave the sanctum I get a little entourage of Guards, and even when I'm inside, I'm not supposed to just wander about. Sisters, on the other hand, are allowed to come and go pretty much as they please."

"Is there no other way out of the sanctum? A high window or something? I could leave you the clothes and climb down."

"No. There are Guards on every possible exit, and if they see you leave the sanctum not disguised as a Sister..." Lynn did not bother to finish the sentence.

"You don't have access to anywhere else?"

"At night, when the main doors to the temple are locked, I'm allowed to go into the central hall to pray. If I get permission first."

"The Guards search the temple before the doors are closed. I know because our first idea of getting to see you was to hide in there until after dark. We can't meet you that way."

"But you don't have to," Lynn said in sudden eagerness. "I think I know how to work it out..."

Nobody paid any attention to Kim in her borrowed robes as she walked through the gardens on the south side of the temple. Dusk was falling, and most people had already left the temple grounds in search of a hot meal and a warm bed for the night. Only a few dawdlers still wandered the maze of gravel paths amid the trees and bushes.

At one corner of the garden was a narrow alleyway running between the wall of the temple and the back of an outlying building. Kim walked toward it at a dignified and unhurried pace. The heretic, Mirle, stood by the entrance, as if idly viewing the scene while waiting for someone. She nodded respectfully to the bogus Sister but made no other attempt to move. The far end of the passage was guarded by Carma, the squadron's healer, also in the costume of an ordinary bystander.

Kim walked sedately along the alley until she reached the halfway point, where a blocked doorway stood at the back of a deep recess in one wall. Both sentries signaled the all clear. Kim ducked inside, already reaching to draw the white robe up over her head. The swift action also removed the cowl and mask and revealed the normal civilian clothes underneath. It took seconds to lay the robe flat on the ground and roll it into a neat bundle, by which time the sound of footsteps told of Carma's arrival. The other Ranger handed a small rucksack to Kim, who pulled out her jacket, put it on, and shoved the white robe into the pack. Then the two Rangers strolled casually back up the alley, to make a show of being reunited with their friend Mirle before heading off to the town, talking quietly among themselves.

"Did you find her?" Carma asked.

"Yes," Kim said.

"And?"

"She wants to come."

"Great," Mirle said. "Did she have any idea of how we could get her out?"

Kim smiled. "Yes, in fact, she did."

The central hall of the temple was a different place after dark when the crowds had left, and it was peaceful enough to draw on the beauty of the images that adorned the shrines and altars. Lynn knelt and set her basket down, then raised her eyes to the painting above her in the alcove, shimmering in the light of a dozen candles. The serene faces of five Elder-Ones looked down on her, with their multi-colored hair and skin.

The representation was taken from the book: Their skins were diverse in tone, and their hair was yellow and red and black, and all the shades between. Artists and theologians had spent centuries arguing over the exact interpretation, but whatever the true appearance of the Elder-Ones, Lynn had a liking for this particular picture. The central figure reminded her of a talisman her grandmother had of the patron of livestock breeders, Simon Hunt, with her deep brown skin and flowing green hair. This shrine had been the first to come to mind.

In the basket was an offering, a garland of spring flowers to adorn the shrine. Lynn removed the cloth cover and lifted out the gift, then reached forward and arranged it around the low altar, weaving it between the candles. She moved slowly, methodically, letting her actions camouflage her inspection of her surroundings. No one else was nearby. Two Sisters were deep in conversation before the main altar to Himoti, and a group of Guards stood at attention by the entrance to the sanctum, but no one was looking in her direction. Lynn slipped her hand under the mantle draped over the altar and found the tightly rolled bundle of white fabric hidden beneath. Still trying to keep her actions smooth and innocent, she transferred it to the basket and pulled the cover across.

Lynn settled back on her heels and looked again at the painting. Her strong urge was to leave as quickly as possible, now that she had what she came for. However, a hurried departure might cause comment, and all things considered, this might be a very good time to pray. Lynn bowed her head and began to softly recite the mantra of supplication.

Lynn's heart was pounding as she closed the door of the meditation room. All it needed was for Sister Dunsin to decide that another lecture was due, and the game would be over, but it was a chance she had to take. That morning was Lynn's turn to be released from duties in the imprinting chapels to spend a few hours in private meditation and revitalize her spiritual energies. Lynn suspected that many of her fellow Imprinters used their meditation time to catch up on sleep or to daydream, but of course no one would admit it, and the use she was going to put the time to was even more unorthodox. It was her opportunity to escape.

Lynn tugged her blue tunic free of her belt. Carefully wrapped around her body was the set of Sister's clothing. She wondered if any at breakfast had noticed her apparent overnight weight gain, although fortunately the Imprinter's tunic was loose enough to conceal a suspicious outline. Her lips pursed thoughtfully as she shook out the robe. The hem had been raised, allowing for the difference in height between Kim and herself. She hoped that the modification had been correctly estimated, but there was only one way to find out.

Lynn pulled the gown on, dropping it over her suit and then looking down. The length was not too bad, maybe a couple of centimeters short, but acceptable. Her soft leather sandals would show, but that did not matter since they were the same style as those worn by the Sisters. What would be dangerous was if a flash of blue should show at her ankles as she walked. Lynn bent down and rolled up her leggings until they were above her knees, then she tied the mask about her face and pulled the cowl over her head.

A mirror for her to check her appearance would have been comforting, but such vanities were hardly the thing for a meditation room. Instead, Lynn stood for a short while, adjusting the way the robe hung from her shoulders and the lie of the mask over her nose. But this was merely a way of delaying her exit from the room, when the disguise would be put to the test, and Lynn knew she did not have time to waste.

It took an effort to pull the door open confidently, rather than edge it ajar and peer out first, but her escape relied on bluff, not caution. Lynn was so tense that it was an anti-climax when she found the corridor outside the meditation room empty, although the absence of people was hardly surprising. Most Sisters would still be at their prayers after breakfast. The temple day had not yet begun. The exit of the sanctum was in sight before Lynn encountered anyone else. All her willpower went into maintaining the stately tread of a Sister, confident and dignified, but she could hardly believe it when the other white-clad figure walked past with only a polite nod of acknowledgment.

The curtains shielding the sanctum from the view of the public hung in heavy folds across the exit. Lynn pushed them aside and stepped through. The eyes of the row of Guards on either side flicked in her direction before returning to their forward stare. The curtain dropped back into place and Lynn proceeded across the main hall of the temple. Few people were in sight, just some devout citizens stopping off to pray before beginning their day's work, three junior Sisters removing dead flowers from the altars, and one nervous family, so worried by the risk of being late for their appointment in the imprinting chapel that they had turned up far too early.

At the doors of the temple, Lynn stopped, temporarily overwhelmed to have the sky above her head once more. The time was just before sunrise. Bands of pink cloud lay on the eastern horizon, the air was chill and fresh, and birds screeched their song from the rooftops. The gates of the wall around the temple complex were less than fifty meters away, and through them the whole city of Landfall lay stretched before her. However, her route did not lead in that direction, not yet. Lynn walked down the steps and followed the path to the side.

Kim's directions had been explicit. Soon she was in the deserted gardens, and ahead of her was the entrance to the narrow alleyway. A young woman stood idly at one side. The unfamiliar civilian clothes meant that only as she was walking past did Lynn recognize Carma, one of the Rangers she had known at the mountain fort. The walls on either side of the passage enclosed her. The blank faces of stone seemed to stretch out, devoid of feature from one end to the other, but midway along, in the space of a few steps, a shadow on the right hand wall split open and revealed itself as a deep recess.

"Everything okay?" Kim had been waiting inside.

"Yes."

Lynn slipped into the alcove, ripping the mask off her face. With Kim's help, the white robe followed, pulled up and over her head. Then, while Lynn undid the buttons at the neck of her blue tunic, Kim knelt by two rucksacks on the floor and produced shirt and trousers in neutral homespun colors, a sheepskin jacket, and finally a sturdy pair of boots.

"We had to make a guess at what size your feet were."

Lynn's tunic was off and she had both arms in the shirt as she spared the boots a quick glance. "They look about right."

Kim was about to toss the discarded Sister's robes into a corner, but Lynn stopped her.

"Don't leave them. When the Sisters find I'm missing, they'll start by searching the grounds. If they find my clothes, they'll know I had help and will look further afield."

Even before Lynn had finished speaking, Kim had nodded and was folding the white robes and Imprinter's suit so they would fit in the rucksacks. The pair finished their tasks almost simultaneously, Lynn tying her laces as Kim pulled the drawstring on the second rucksack.

"How do they feel?" Kim asked, pointing to the boots.

"A bit loose," Lynn said after an experimental waggle of one foot.

"Not a bad thing."

"True. When we have more time, I'll take some strips from the robe to make padding. It will save blisters."

Lynn stood up straight, and for the first time, took a serious look at Kim's appearance. Seeing the Ranger in civilian clothes was more than a little strange, and her hair was even more disconcerting. It was still short, but instead of the close military crop, it had been allowed to grow into a fringe, and a parting was discernible. I can probably get to like it, Lynn reflected to herself, a little amused by her own reaction. Kim was also treating her to a quizzical stare.

"Do I look sufficiently ordinary?" Lynn asked.

Kim gave a wry smile. "So so. But we must do something about your hair." She pulled a long knife from her belt. "Turn around. I'm afraid this will be rather untidy. Something else to sort out when we have more time."

Lynn gritted her teeth as the knife snagged once or twice, but within seconds, she had been shorn of her heavy braid. She twisted her head from side to side, feeling the strange absence of weight, while the twisted plait of hair was also stuffed into a rucksack, then Kim helped comb Lynn's hair forward with her fingers.

"How does it look?" Lynn asked.

Kim grinned. "Like a Ranger has hacked at your hair with her trail knife. You can borrow Mirle's hat to cover the worst of it. It will do, and it changes the shape of your face quite a bit."

The entire transformation had taken less than three minutes. Kim picked up the two rucksacks, swung one over her own shoulder and held the other out for Lynn. Then they stepped out of the alcove and walked back up the alley toward the garden, falling into an unhurried stroll. As they got close to the end of the passageway, Lynn heard faster footsteps catching up behind, and a few seconds after reaching Carma, they were joined by a fourth woman.

Kim gestured to the newcomer. "Lynn, this is Mirle, one of the heretics. She volunteered for the mission since she knows the safe houses in the homelands. And I think you probably remember Carma."

Lynn nodded and said earnestly, "Yes. And I don't know how to start thanking you all."

Carma's lips twitched down at the corners. "I'm enough of a healer to know that you saved my life back in the mountains. If we all get home safe, we can call it even."

"Make that when, not if," Kim interrupted. "But the polite exchanges can wait until later. First we need to get to the horses, and also, Mirle, I think Lynn should borrow your hat."

The heretic smiled and handed it over, then the four of them strolled through the gardens to the temple gates. By now the traffic in and out had increased to a steady flow. Three Guardswomen stood stiffly at attention on either side of the arch over the road. Lynn was terrified that she would be recognized without the mask, but the glazed expressions of the Guards were oblivious to the people going by, and no challenge was issued as she passed the iron-bound doors and emerged onto the street outside.

"They didn't even look at us," Lynn whispered.

"Why should they? How would anyone dare to make off with an Imprinter when they are on duty and their uniforms look so pretty?" Kim's voice was full of amused irony.

The temple gates opened onto a wide thoroughfare lined with well-stocked shops, already busy with the commerce of a new day. Not far away, a young street urchin held the reins of four horses. She looked at them with a hopeful expression and gave a yelp of thanks as she caught the coin Kim flipped in her direction, then turned and scampered off, disappearing into the jumble of activity on the road.

The sight of the horses gave Lynn another moment of panic. Such a long time had passed since she had ridden seriously; the two brief occasions at the mountain fort had been only a game. But it was not the sort of thing you forgot how to do. The second her foot touched the stirrup, her body took over, remembering the actions as she swung into the saddle. Her horse fell in line with those of the other three women, winding through the early morning traffic that filled the streets of Landfall. By the time they reached the edge of town, the sun had cleared the horizon and its rays fell on their backs as they headed west.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN-THE RULES OF THE GAME

hey did not stop until midmorning, when Landfall was many

kilometers behind and long lost from sight in the gently rolling farmlands. Some time earlier, they had abandoned the main road in favor of a lesser used sidetrack. This route followed the path of a sluggish river through freshly plowed fields and small strips of woodland. Kim finally called a halt on a deserted stretch of grassy embankment and set her horse off to graze. It was a break to rest the animals, and a chance for the women to eat a light meal and to make a final decision on the route they would take back to the mountains.

"How long before you'll be missed?" Kim asked, once they were all seated or sprawled on the grass.

The question was one that Lynn had already given some thought to. "With extreme bad luck, they'll be after me already, but I was due to be meditating all morning, so I shouldn't be missed until I don't show up at lunch time. And they probably won't begin a major search until the meal is over. Then they'll start by turning the sanctum upside down before moving on to the rest of the temple." Lynn shrugged. "It could well be late afternoon before they know I've definitely gone."

Mirle looked thoughtful. "That's not too bad."

"But as Lynn said at the beginning, we can't rely on it," Kim said.

The heretic pursed her lips. "True. And whenever the chase starts, we still have the same basic choice: either we go hell for leather and try to outrun them, or we go slowly and try to blend into the scenery."

"This part of the journey is your specialty. What do you recommend?"

Mirle had no hesitation. "Slow and steady. They may well suspect that we've got Lynn and are taking her to Westernfort. When you think about it, there's nowhere else for her to go, so they'll be looking west.

We could drop down toward Alderwood and take the roundabout route by Southwater. There are some good safe houses that way."

"Fair enough. Do you two have anything to add?" Kim looked at the others as she spoke.

"Only to agree with Mirle." The chunk of bread in Carma's hand was waved in the heretic's general direction as she spoke. "If the Guards are changing their horses at way stations, we'll never be able to keep ahead of them."

"True. Any thoughts, Lynn?" Kim's eyes moved on.

"Er...I...no." Lynn could think of nothing sensible to say and her voice sounded, to her ears, nearly as weak and unsure as she felt, but no one else seemed to notice her confusion.

Carma and Mirle were both looking to Kim as leader, waiting for her to make the final decision. She looked thoughtful for a minute and then nodded. "Okay, Mirle, we'll follow your lead. Where should we aim to stay tonight?"

The conversation moved on to routes, distances, and provisions, a detailed debate about places Lynn had never heard of. She sat to one side, trying to follow the intricacies of the plan, but suddenly she was feeling completely out of her depth. She did not know how far a horse could travel in a day, how much it cost for a room at an inn, or whether you could ford the river Wade in April. The dull security of an Imprinter's life had gone, and Lynn had no experience relevant to the new situation. In fact, apart from the journey to Landfall, she had no experience of adult life outside the temple at all. Lynn fixed her eyes on the trees overhanging the river, hoping to take comfort in their beauty, but at the moment, it all seemed frighteningly alien.

At last, the other three concluded their planning and began to get ready for the return to the road. As she went to stand, Lynn's legs felt a little wobbly from the unaccustomed strain of riding, and the sharp sting on her left heel reminded her of the intention to pad her new boots. She hesitated. She should have thought of it sooner; now it would mean delaying the others. Yet it would be foolish to get blisters if it could be avoided. Surely a few minutes extra wait would not matter?

Lynn sat down again and pulled off her boots. "Can you pass me the Sister's robe?" she asked, feeling embarrassed to be wasting everyone's time.

However, Kim was by her side in an instant, her voice concerned rather than critical. "Oh yes, your feet. How are they?"

"No blisters yet, but..."

Lynn did not need to finish the sentence. Already Kim had pulled the robe from a rucksack and began tearing off strips to pass to her.

Carma watched with melodramatic mock horror. "Oh no, after all I went through to get that."

Kim and Mirle laughed. The acquisition of the robes was obviously a shared joke, and a subject that had given Lynn cause to wonder. It could not have been easy. She paused her wrapping to ask. "Just how did you get a set of clothes from a Sister?"

The laughter became even louder, but eventually Mirle controlled herself enough to answer. "It was as heroic an example of self-sacrifice as you could ask for from a Ranger. Carma slept with the woman who runs the temple laundry."

Kim handed the last strip of cloth to Lynn before adding her own comments. "Yes, it was courage up to and beyond the call of duty. I didn't even need to order her. I just suggested it vaguely, and straight away, she volunteered. And if you'd seen the woman, I tell you, there was no guarantee Carma was going to get out of there in one piece."

"I must admit I was impressed by the valiant way she threw herself into the action." Mirle feigned seriousness.

Kim matched her tone. "You tend to get a lot of practice at it in the Rangers. Carma more than most."

"She's got a healthy running tally?"

"I don't know about running, I think the count galloped into the distance years ago."

At which point, the gibes became too much for Carma to resist some good-natured retaliation. She directed a long, hard stare at Kim. "Now that's a bit much, coming from you, Ramon. I can remember Captain LeCoup threatening to put a sentry outside the door to your room to keep the line in order."

Lynn concentrated on wrapping the padding around her feet and putting her boots back on while the laughter and teasing continued between the other three. It was all said in jest, Lynn realized, but it was based on events and an experience of life that was even more unknown to her than the planning of a dangerous journey. Now it was too late to question exactly what she had agreed to with Kim. In fact, Lynn was not certain what the right questions were, or what she wanted the answers to be. Some of Sister Dunsin's warnings echoed in her mind, and even Dunsin could not be totally wrong about everything. And then Lynn remembered the hopeless, deadening slavery of the temple. Surely nothing could be worse than that? But whatever happens, Lynn told herself, I've made my choice and I'll stick with it.

The skies remained clear for the rest of the day, but the weather was cold, even for early April. As the sun drew near to the horizon, the temperature dropped still further. Fortunately, the party was well equipped, and in addition to her jacket, Lynn had a riding cloak over her shoulders. Although she was warm enough, Lynn knew she was trembling, but she knew it in a vague, detached way.

Shortly after the midmorning break, Lynn had become aware that the unfamiliar exercise was making heavy demands on her body, but she could not afford to let it impede the rest of the party. She knew all the warnings about using the healer sense to overcome physical limitations, but the situation did not allow her any other options. They had to escape. All their lives depended on getting away, so she had exerted her skill to block out the pain of overworked muscles and chafed skin. At first, it had been only the gentlest of interventions, but by the time sunset approached, she was totally absorbed in the healer-trance. The rift between mind and body was so great that she failed to notice the change in surroundings when they finally rode into the enclosed courtyard of a crossroads inn.

The innkeeper, a plump, middle-aged woman with a flour-covered apron, came out to greet her guests. "Welcome, travelers, what can I do for you?"

Mirle slipped from her horse and stepped forward. "We'd like a quiet room for the night."

A slight hesitation and flicker of recognition crossed the innkeeper's face, but the woman's voice was unchanged as she said, "We're short on private rooms. Would the hayloft over the stables do?"

Kim and Carma caught each other's eye with approving looks, knowing that if necessary, the hayloft would provide the quickest escape from the inn without drawing the attention of others. Mirle and the innkeeper walked a little to one side and spoke in low voices, giving the charade of agreeing on a price, although the information being exchanged was undoubtedly far more significant. The two Rangers dismounted and caught their horses' reins. However, Lynn remained in the saddle.

Kim walked to her side. "Lynn. Are you all right?" But as the Ranger looked more closely, she could see Lynn swaying slightly and the pallor of her face. Kim reached out to put her hand on the Imprinter's arm. At the touch, Lynn appeared to jerk awake. She shook her head slightly and then swung her leg over the rump of her horse and dropped to the ground. Quite literally. As her feet hit the cobblestones, her knees buckled, and if Kim had not caught her, she would have fallen.

"Carma, get over here." But there was no need for Kim to speak. Already the Ranger healer was at her shoulder. "What's wrong with her?" Kim asked in alarm.

Carma's eyes unfocused as she put her hand on Lynn's forehead for a few seconds before replying. "Nothing too serious. It's mainly strained muscles. She's overdone things and has been holding herself together with the healer sense."

The innkeeper had also stepped up close and now hissed. "If she's the one you don't want people to notice, then get her out of sight at once."

The advice was very good. Lynn felt herself being picked up and carried, and for a while the world pitched and swung about her. When the whirling stopped, she was set down on a fresh bed of straw with a thick cloak laid over her as a blanket. She opened her eyes to see the sloping rafters of the hayloft and Kim kneeling at one side with the other two standing behind.

"When did you last ride a horse?" Kim demanded to know.

"You saw me, back in the fort," Lynn managed to reply.

"A year ago! And when was the last time before that?"

"When I was twelve."

"Damn it. Why didn't you say before?" Kim sounded angry.

"I'm sorry. You'd planned out your route. I didn't want to slow you down." Lynn felt her eyes filling with tears.

Kim sighed loudly and lowered her head, then put her hand on Lynn's shoulder. "No, I'm the one who should say sorry. I should have thought. I'd seen you ride, but it should have been obvious you wouldn't get to practice at the temple." She looked over her shoulder. "Carma, can you do anything for her?"

"A little." Carma's voice was softly regretful. "Unfortunately, it's been a long day for me as well. Once I've had a rest and something to eat, I should be of more use. At least enough to make sure she gets a good night's sleep. By tomorrow, she'll be able to look after herself, but I doubt she'll be ready to move on."

Kim pursed her lips. "Mirle, will the innkeeper mind us staying?"

"She'd probably rather we didn't, but she'll cover for us as long as we need."

"Okay. Carma, if you do what you can now, then you and Mirle can go over to the common room and get supper. I'll stay here and keep an eye on her for a while," Kim said and moved back to let the other Ranger take her place.

Lynn closed her eyes as Carma's hand rested on her forehead, and slowly the worst of the pain slipped away, while the exhaustion softened to a bearable level. She still felt as if she had been through a mangle, and her hips and thighs throbbed, but her thoughts were back in the present and clear enough for her to know the risks she had taken that day. Only when she had released herself from the cocoon of the healer sense had she found that she had pushed herself much, much too far.

"Do you feel any better?" Carma asked eventually.

"Yes. Thank you."

"That's okay." Carma looked over to Kim. "Mirle and I will be off in search of supper, then."

"Right. I might be along later."

"If not, we'll bring something back for you."

"Thanks."

There was the sound of the Ranger and heretic climbing down from the hayloft, and then Lynn was aware that she was alone with Kim. All her doubts from the morning returned in a rush. Was Sister Dunsin right? Would Kim be looking simply to notch up another conquest? Some sort of competition? But Lynn did not know the rules of the game. She hunted desperately for something to say.

"I've been stupid. You're right. I should have spoken earlier."

"We all do mad things sometimes. And it allowed us to get safely to this inn." Kim spoke quietly.

Lynn turned her head and looked around. A third of the hayloft was taken up with a mound of loose straw. An oil lantern hung from a rafter, casting oblique shadows across the sloping roof that came down almost to the floor. At one end of the loft, a bay jutted out, presumably overhanging the road outside. The tall loading hatch at the back was bolted and shuttered. A ladder stuck up through a trapdoor in the middle of the floor. Lynn frowned. She had no memory of how she had been carried up it, but obviously it had been managed somehow. And then, sitting on the straw less than a meter away and watching her intently, was Kim.

Something approaching panic clawed at Lynn. Try as she might, she could not push away the memory of Sister Dunsin's preaching, the words that echoed in her head. She would have taken what she wanted from you, and I can guarantee it would have been more than you wanted to give. And what did she want to give? Lynn's eyes closed as she felt fresh tears rising. At the moment, the answer was definitely nothing. Her whole body ached from head to toe, the burning in her groin was the effect of the saddle, not lust. Dunsin had derided her for childish romanticism, had promised that reality would be both crude and unpleasant. In the security of the temple, it had been so very easy to dismiss the words as religious ranting, but now?

Lynn fought back sobs. In her current state, anything that happened was likely to be far worse than Dunsin's most dire warning. And what was Kim going to want? Lynn remembered the conversation from that morning, the jokes about a Ranger's running tally. Then another memory came to mind, the parade ground at Landfall, and what had happened to Kim there. Lynn set her jaw. That had been her fault, her ill-planned actions that had resulted in the flogging, and she owed Kim something by way of repayment. Lynn was still frightened, still unsure of what she had bought into, and the time and place were not those she would have chosen, but she was not going to start complaining. Whatever Kim wanted, she could have.

"Lynn?" Kim's voice was soft. "Are you all right to talk?"

"Yes," Lynn said. Talking was not the issue. Kim reached out a hand as if to touch her, and despite her resolve, Lynn felt herself flinch away and freeze.

Kim's hand dropped and she said, "There's something we need to sort out."

"I'm listening."

Kim hesitated for a moment and then began talking, but her sentences limped along in untidy chunks. "I...er...I came to the temple to ask you to join us because...when we were thinking about the need for a new Cloner...you came to mind...since you'd told me how unhappy you were at the temple, and I thought...perhaps, you'd be willing to join us. It wasn't that I was hoping..." And finally, the erratic speech died. Kim hesitated for the space of several breaths before continuing. "I know I'm sounding disjointed. Basically, what I want to say is...what happened in the stable in Petersmine...I haven't been putting any...expectations on it. I'll understand if it was just that you didn't want to go to Landfall, and got a bit overwrought, and didn't mean what you said to me, and you only kissed me because you were unhappy." Kim's words paused for the longest gap of all. Lynn waited in silence, unsure of quite where the awkward monologue was going, but at last Kim picked up again in a rush. "Because I didn't seriously feel that way about you, it was just the situation. And I'm not hoping or wanting for us to become lovers now, in fact, quite the opposite. Westernfort needs an Imprinter, and I know celibacy is part of the job. So we can just chalk up Petersmine as one of those stupid things that happen sometimes. And we can be friends. Okay?"

Lynn felt as if she had been thrown a lifeline. She grabbed at it eagerly. "Yes. Of course."

"Right." Kim took a deep breath. "As long as that's sorted. Now, do you want me to stay with you, or would you prefer to be left alone to rest?"

"No. You go and get something to eat."

"You're sure? Do you want me to bring you over something to eat yourself?"

"I'm sure, and I'd better wait until Carma is around before I try eating."

Kim got to her feet a little uncertainly and walked over to the trapdoor. She stopped once as if about to say something else, but then climbed down without a word. Lynn watched her go, her relief turning rapidly to a perverse and irrational disappointment.

After stepping off the foot of the ladder, Kim walked to the stable door and looked out on the darkened courtyard. Night had fallen while she had been in the hayloft; one crescent moon hung low in the sky. The gusting breeze was icy cold. From the entrance to the inn's taproom came the hubbub of cheery voices, laughter, and the clunk of beer tankards on tables. The promise of warmth and food. The sound was normally enticing, but Kim was not quite ready for company. She pressed a palm against her forehead and closed her eyes. Before she faced the other two members of the group, she wanted to have her expression fully under control. Carma certainly would have questions, whether or not they were voiced aloud.

Kim leaned a shoulder against the doorpost, berating herself for her own stupidity. She realized she had managed to persuade herself that she did not want Lynn as a lover, that the kiss had been a mistake, that she had come on the mission solely for the benefit of the community at Westernfort. And her self-deception had worked perfectly. Right up to the second she had set eyes on Lynn again in the great hall of the temple. But in that second, Kim had known she was more hopelessly serious about Lynn than she had ever been about any woman before, and that in proposing to take the Imprinter back to Westernfort, she was just possibly making the biggest mistake of her life.

But the stupidity and self-deception had not ended there. Kim fought to restrain a groan at the realization. Somewhere in the previous few days, she had let herself start to hope, that maybe Lynn might...

Kim cut off the thought. There was no mistaking the way Lynn had shied away from her hand, the blank expression with which Lynn had avoided the chance to reaffirm her words in Petersmine, the eagerness with which Lynn had agreed that they should stick with friendship. Kim's hand dropped and she fixed her eyes on the stars. Never had she been so disappointed to have someone agree with what she said, but it had been a foolish dream to hope that Lynn would admit to still loving her.

Kim drew another sharp breath and finally gave vent to her feelings. "Oh, shit, shit, shit."

In the middle of the night, Kim was awakened by the sound of pounding hooves. Instantly, she had slipped out of the bedding and was standing by the loading hatch. Through the lattice of the shutters, she saw half a dozen Guards charge by, their route going directly underneath where she stood, pushing their horses to a reckless gallop in the moonlight. And then they were gone, racing down the silver ribbon of road, heading away from Landfall.

Carma had also been awakened by the noise. She stood at Kim's shoulder while the hoofbeats faded into the distance and the quiet sounds of the night returned. Then she said softly so as not to wake the other two, "They'll be carrying the news about Lynn."

"Probably."

"So now the fun starts in earnest. They're in front of us."

CHAPTERNINETEEN- A PIG FARMER'S DAUGHTER

he alert had gone out to every town Militia. Over the following

two weeks, the group lost count of how many roadblocks they passed, but after the first two or three, the barricades ceased to hold any anxiety for them. The Militia was clearly hampered by their preconceptions of the person they were looking for. Initially, when the soldiers in their black uniforms waved the four women by without a second glance, Lynn wondered if they were still naively expecting an Imprinter in blue with a long braid of hair, but it became apparent that their ideas were stuck in a different rut.

Riding the horse was what confused them and provided the best disguise. Although it slowed the group down at first, while Lynn hardened to the exercise, it was their passport across the country. The most difficult part was hiding the amusement as they rode in single file around a cart that was being emptied and searched by the earnest Militiawomen. It was still a question of debate whether the emphasis on wheeled transport was because the authorities thought an Imprinter too spiritual a creature to sit astride a horse, or if the Militia were unable to grasp the idea that an Imprinter might willingly leave a temple and they were therefore looking for a prisoner, bound and gagged. Whatever the reason, evading the pursuit was beginning to seem almost too easy.

The peaks of the western mountains were lining the horizon as they reached the last major obstacle before they left the lands controlled by the Sisters-the river Coldwater. The four women rode over the brow of a hill and looked down on the valley. Below them, a six-arch bridge spanned the winding river and a small town lay amid a patchwork of farmland. The sun was low on the horizon, but even with the glaring light in their eyes, they could see the huddle of black-clad Militia on the distant bridge and the line of traffic waiting to pass. It was an irritation. The day had been a long one, and the group was all looking forward to finding a tavern and a meal with as little delay as possible. However, one more checkpoint was not a cause for concern.

Only when they were in the line and the barrier no more than twenty meters away did they notice the woman in red and gold standing in the middle of the crowd of Militia and scanning every face that went by. The presence of the temple Guard was worrying, but turning around and going back was unsafe. Such an action would have been far too blatantly guilty not to attract attention.

Kim nudged her horse closer to Lynn's and whispered, "Do you recognize her? Is she from Landfall?"

"I don't know. She's a bit far away at the moment, and all Guards tend to look the same to me anyhow."

"I know what you mean. If it weren't for Himoti's ban, I'd swear someone was cloning them somewhere. Uniforms have that effect." Kim gave a reassuring smile. "And the same applies for you, so don't worry. The blue suit is what people notice, not the face. The Guard would need to be very familiar with you to recognize you in everyday clothes with your haircut. What she'll mainly be looking out for is an expression of panic."

The corners of Lynn's mouth turned down. "She may well get to see one."

The group moved slowly up the line. After a long wait, while every sack of flour on the wagon ahead was shifted, prodded, and then pushed back into place again, their turn came to ride onto the bridge. Lynn tried to keep her concentration on the back of Kim, riding in front of her. She felt she was running a gauntlet and could hardly believe it when there was no challenge. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the Militia already turning to the cartload of apples that was next in the line. Then, just as it was starting to seem that this roadblock would be like all the rest, the Guard stepped out and held up her hand for Lynn to stop. Immediately the Militia switched their attention from the cart and formed a circle around the group of four women.

The Guard's eyes were locked on Lynn's face, but a degree of doubt lurked there. She was not sure of the identification. Long seconds of silence dragged out and then the Guard asked, "Would you mind telling me where you're heading?"

"To Longhill, ma'am." Lynn spoke confidently, repeating the story the group had prepared.

"And where are you coming from?"

"Well...Longhill originally. I've just been up to Southwater and back with my friends. We've been..." Lynn let her voice trail off as she tried to seem innocently confused.

"So. You're from Longhill?" the Guard snapped.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And what do you do there?"

"I work on a farm."

"Doing what?"

"Whatever the boss tells me."

Lynn's reply raised a faint chuckle from the back of the ring of assembled Militia, but the Guard was not amused. She scowled and said, "Get down off the horse."

Lynn's stomach was a twisted knot of fear as she obeyed the order. When the Guard was able to better judge her height and build, the suspicions would increase, and little could be done about it. Posture might help, though not too flagrant a stoop. Lynn stood on the cobbles of the bridge in a defensive, inelegant, round-shouldered slouch, and was rewarded by seeing the frown on her interrogator's face deepen. The stance was not what you would expect from one chosen by the Goddess. Lynn could sense the anxious concern of her companions, but dared not raise her eyes to them. Instead, she tried to force herself into the role she must adopt-the bewildered farm worker, stopped on her journey home.

"It's a nice horse." The Guard's tone made it clear that flattery was not her purpose.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Is it yours?"

"No. The boss said I could borrow it because-" Lynn was about to launch into their prepared story, but the Guard cut her off.

"This farm you work on, it's near Longhill?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"What's on it?" The Guard's question had moved beyond the scope planned for, forcing Lynn into the realm of improvisation.

"Er...pigs."

"How many?"

"Two hundred saddlebacks and fifty dwarf short tails...and ththere's a few chickens as well. The b-boss likes her eggs." With the aggression of the rapid questions, Lynn did not have to worry that acting frightened would seem out of character.

The Guard paused in her interrogation and looked at Lynn thoughtfully, then she glanced across at one of the Militia, a sour-faced woman with a sergeant's badge on her black jerkin. "Weren't you telling me that your mother used to keep pigs?" the Guard asked deliberately.

The sergeant looked startled for a moment but then nodded and said slowly, "Yes, she did. She even had a couple of the dwarf short tails, but she lost them to a dose of colic from eating border weed."

Lynn did not wait to be asked before speaking. "Dwarf short tails with colic? Are you sure? The whole reason you keep the short tails is they don't mind the coarse stuff, else you wouldn't bother, 'cause there's sod-all meat on them."

The Militia sergeant pursed her lips. "Maybe they weren't short tails, then. They were those short dark ones with the long snout."

"Sicross blacks? They'd have to eat a lot of border weed to get sick, and anyway, they're finicky eaters. I'm surprised they'd touch the weed. It's the saddlebacks that are the hungry buggers with no sense and weak stomachs."

"Is that right?" the Guard said slowly, re-entering the interrogation, while her eyes shifted between Lynn and the sergeant in black.

The Militiawoman had a sneer on her face that was probably intended as a confident smile. "Oh yes. She works on a pig farm. Unless, of course, Imprinters spend their spare time reading up on how to care for different breeds of pig."

The Guard frowned. Her eyes locked on Lynn's face, but then she stood back and jerked her thumb toward the horse. "Okay. You can go."

"Yes, ma'am."

Lynn put her foot in the stirrup and hopped up into her saddle. The four set off in a line, the horses' hooves clattering loudly on the cobblestones. Each second, Lynn expected to be called back, but the shout never came. Only when they were over the bridge and heading on toward the town did she dare glance over her shoulder. The soldiers had moved to the applecart. A Militiawoman was standing on the tailboard, poking about with a long pole. Even the Guard in red and gold was no longer giving them any attention.

The four rode in silence for a while, but at last Kim cleared her throat and said, "You did well."

"Thank you." Lynn drew a deep breath.

Suddenly, the tension seemed to break for everyone at the same time. Lynn had to fight back the urge to giggle like a child. It had been a close thing, but it was over. Ahead of her, Mirle was leaning forward, shaking her head in amused disbelief. Carma started whistling a song that Lynn was fairly certain had the chorus of "Off and Over the Hills."

Kim spoke again, although this time in a tone of dry humor. "Er... Lynn. Do Imprinters spend their spare time reading up on how to care for different breeds of pig?"

Lynn shrugged. "Well, I can't speak for the rest, but I never needed to. I'm a pig farmer's daughter. I spent the first twelve years of my life looking after them."

Kim's shoulders shook with subdued laughter. "Right. I should have guessed."

"Oh, so you know a bit about pigs, then?" Mirle sniffed, making a play of banal gossip. "You might be even more useful on the farm than we expected."

"You've got pigs there?" Lynn sounded thrilled.

"Yes, lots of them. You mean Kim didn't tell you?" Carma joined in.

"No."

Carma shook her head in mock censure. "Honestly, Captain. That's the last time we send you to try and talk an Imprinter into joining us. You left the best part out."

They arrived at Westernfort in the middle of June. There had been a few further encounters with the Militia, but nothing to match the bridge over the Coldwater, and once they were in the mountains, the fear of pursuit was gone completely. Even so, the Rangers set a fast pace through the wildlands. Over four months would have passed by the time they returned, and Kim was eager to know how things had progressed with the valley defenses.

The hard riding was no longer a problem for Lynn, and the mountain scenery was beautiful enough to bring tears to her eyes.

Sometimes, lying wrapped in her blankets at night waiting for sleep to overtake her, she was overwhelmed by a wave of disbelief. She had actually escaped; the sense of freedom was too much to comprehend. She would never again be swallowed by the gloom, the repetition, the hopelessness of the temple. It was quite literally true that she would rather die than go back.

Lynn would have declared herself utterly happy, were it not for an awareness that with each passing day, Kim was becoming more distant. The Ranger captain was still friendly and supportive, still fun to talk to, but this only made it worse as it became apparent that Kim would much rather be talking to someone else. The closer they got to Westernfort, the more common it was for Kim to be riding beside Mirle or Carma, joking and chatting with them. In such a small group, the shift in preferred company was painfully obvious, and all the more painful as Lynn felt her attraction to the tall Ranger growing ever stronger. She no longer had any doubts about how much she wanted to give, merely despair at knowing Kim did not want to take it. The daily close contact of the journey made it unbearable. Lynn felt relief when the party finally reached the brow of a hill and a distant barricade across the entrance to a hanging valley was pointed out to her-the walls of Westernfort.

The work on the path to the high village was complete. An easy climb, but so narrow that they were forced to dismount and go in single file. As they walked up, Lynn tilted her head back. The stout timbers of the wall were hanging directly above her. Friendly faces peered over the parapet; scouts had already carried advance news of their arrival. Yet a shiver ran down Lynn's spine as she imagined what it would be like to fight her way up that path with arrows rather than smiles raining down from above. She pitied any Guard who was ordered to storm the valley-and surely one day an attack on Westernfort would come, and many brave women would die on the very path she was now walking. Lynn's eyes dropped to the ground. For a second, the rocks beneath her feet seemed red with blood, then Lynn shook her head to dispel the image. She was an Imprinter, not a fortuneteller.

At the top of the climb, they passed under the gateway and saw a boisterous throng of heretics and Rangers standing inside the wall to welcome them. The instant they were through, Kim, Carma, and Mirle were swept away to be greeted enthusiastically by a string of women. However, Lynn sensed the familiar, reserved circle of awe start to grow around her. Once again, she was isolated, on the edge, and then an

elderly woman limped over and gave a crooked smile.

"I take it that you're Lynn?"

"Er...yes. And you must be Gina."

During the journey, Mirle had spoken much about the elderly ex-Sister, ex-Imprinter, recounting tales of her life, her discoveries, her beliefs. Lynn still was not sure what to make of the stories, except for an innate respect for anyone who would so utterly outrage Sister Dunsin.

The heretic leader gave a snort of amusement. "I won't bother asking how you recognized me. I do hope you're going to be happy here, because if not, you've got a hell of a long walk back."

Lynn stopped short and then dropped her head as a smile spread over her face. The brusque humor held more real welcome than any polite formula. Suddenly, she felt part of the gathering, a feeling that increased as Gina linked an arm through hers for the short walk to the village.

At the point where the valley walls broadened out, they paused for Lynn to take in the view; the unbroken sweep of high mountains surrounding the valley, the cliff faces running down to the forest of dark fir trees lining the lake, and the newly cleared fields, planted with grain. The village was close by. It was mainly a collection of crude round huts, but there was one stone-built construction with a slate-tiled roof and heating flues. Gina pointed to this building.

"We've managed to complete our first real house. It's not too wonderful, but it has a proper floor and roof. And you'll be pleased to hear that both you and I have been voted a room in there." Gina paused briefly. "Captain Ramon has as well, but I doubt they'll wheedle her out of the barrack hut with the other Rangers."

As if hearing her name, Kim appeared at their side. The Ranger seemed less confident than normal. She took in the village and farm with an uncertain frown and said, "I did warn you it wasn't luxurious. We're working on it, and one day it will be...well, a proper village. I hope you don't think I misled you..."

Lynn smiled. "I'm not disappointed with it."

"You're not?" Kim sounded surprised. "It's not quite as civilized as you're used to."

"It's not quite as much like a prison as I'm used to," Lynn corrected. She turned through a complete circle to take in the whole panorama.

"It's got mountains and pigs. What more could I want?" But silently she answered herself. You.

The stone house had six small private rooms opening onto a communal space. Proper furniture was non-existent, but Lynn and Gina had improvised two chairs in the shared area, and they sat talking together quietly. The morning sunlight streamed in through the open doorway, carrying with it the fresh smell of the fir trees and the sounds of people congregating outside. Sounds that left Lynn feeling unaccountably nervous. Four days had passed since she had reached Westernfort, enough for her to rest after the journey. Now it was time to begin her work. But she was in no hurry to go outside. In fact, she was feeling the childish urge to hide.

The door to her own bedroom was temptingly close at hand. The remaining five rooms had gone to Gina and other elderly heretics since, as anticipated, Kim had chosen to share the rough living conditions of the other Rangers. Lynn was embarrassed to be singled out for privileged treatment, especially as there were many frail old women still in the primitive round huts, but she had less success than Kim in declining the honor. The heretics may well have rejected the idea of a Goddess who had chosen Lynn for her own, but that did not mean that they thought an Imprinter should be treated as an ordinary person.

"Just as long as I can still imprint." Lynn spoke her fears aloud.

"Do you have any reason to doubt it?" Gina asked.

"In myself, no. But"-Lynn paused and looked down at her clasped hands-"before now, I've always had the support and sanctity of the temple behind me. Sisters telling me what to do."

"The Sisters' advice was helpful?" Gina said ironically.

"Well, no, not in the detail. But it meant I didn't have to take responsibility for..." Lynn's words trailed away as she reached the core of her uncertainty, facing it fully for the first time. She continued speaking. "I guess that's it. The Sisters always made sure I knew it wasn't really me creating a new life, a new soul. I was just a conduit for the Goddess. But now I have to ask myself whether I, personally, have the right to create a new human being."

"But the doing has always been in your hands, and yours alone.

Celaeno isn't a Goddess. I admit I don't know all the things that go into a starship, but I'm damned certain there isn't a piece of machinery up there that bestows moral prerogatives."

Lynn sighed deeply. "In my head I've a strong suspicion you may be right. But in my heart..."

Gina reached over and squeezed her shoulder. "Then follow your heart, trust your own feelings. Stop looking for absolute values and focus on the practical facts."

"How do you mean?"

"Do you have any doubts about whether Chip and Katryn will make good parents?"

"Of course not."

"And you know how much they want a child?"

"Yes."

"So why are you sitting in here when you could be doing something about it?"

Gina had a talent for reducing complex ethical questions to the breathtakingly simple. Sometimes Lynn felt dizzy trying to keep up. Sometimes she just had to take things on trust. She shook her head in bemusement and then said, "You're probably right."

"Of course I'm right. I'm always right. It's one of the best things about me. Now come on. I can guarantee Chip and Katryn are even more nervous than you, so don't keep them waiting." Gina got to her feet and started for the door. "Have they decided who's going to carry the baby?"

Lynn caught up at her side. "Yes, Chip."

"Really? I've been told it gives a fascinating insight into a relationship which one chooses to bear the first child." Gina frowned. "But I haven't a blessed clue what it's supposed to mean."

It was against all precedent to perform an imprinting in the open air, but there was no room that would hold the numbers who wanted to be present. In fact, every Ranger and heretic, without exception, had gathered in the open space outside the stone house. They all knew there would be little to see, but that was not the point. They would be witnessing the start of their future.

Lynn looked up at the clear unblemished blue of the sky. For a second, her doubts resurfaced, and then they were utterly swept away. Lynn took a deep breath of the sweet fresh air. She understood the truth of what Gina had said; regardless of whether Celaeno was a Goddess or a spacecraft, imprinting was something in which she should follow her own heart. She stepped into the center of the open space and beckoned Chip and Katryn out to meet her. As Gina had predicted, both looked uncharacteristically nervous, shuffling from foot to foot. Lynn gave her most encouraging smile. "Are you ready?" she asked.

They both nodded. Katryn swallowed and asked, "What do you want us to do?" while Chip looked too tense to speak.

It was a good question. The traditional arrangement was undoubtedly symbolic of something, but there was no altar for Chip to lie on, and Lynn had never been comfortable with the sacrifice-like overtones. She smiled. There was no need to try to replicate the temple procedures. All that was necessary was that there be physical contact between them. The new life was something they three were going to create together as a shared act, and her heart told her exactly how she wanted to do things.

"We should sit in a circle and take each other's hand."

At first the two Rangers seemed surprised, but then they matched her smile.

The ground felt reassuringly right beneath Lynn as she sat down. Her earlier doubts seemed laughable. She was an Imprinter, and the temple was not a tribute to life. It was a prison where the Sisters tried to keep captive the source of their power, but life was meant to be free.

She took their hands and gave her last few instructions, "I'm afraid this might be a bit boring for you. It will probably take a couple of hours. But while I'm in the trance, you can talk. It won't disturb me. Just don't let go of my hands. Okay?"

Chip and Katryn nodded, then their heads turned slightly and they met each other's eyes in a deep, searching gaze. The look Lynn had seen so many couples exchange before. For a second, her concentration slipped, but she restrained the urge to search the crowd to see if she could spot Kim. The heart was not always a reliable guide. Instead, she focused on the feel of the two hands she held, the texture, the warmth, the life within them. Waves of energy began to flow around the circle, carrying her away and sweeping her effortlessly into the imprinting trance.

CHAPTER TWENTY-OVER THE EDGE

he sun beat down mercilessly on the vegetable patch at the

edge of the village. Lynn paused to wipe the sweat from her eyes, then stood back leaning on the hoe, and contemplated the long line of weeds that still stretched in front of her. It was backbreaking, thirsty work, but it was not supposed to be a race. No one would criticize her if she took a short break. In fact, no one would criticize her if she did not lift a finger at all around the farm, which was part of the reason why she tended to push herself so hard. For too much of her life, she had been an abstract object of veneration. Now she was going to insist on being treated like everyone else. But it was not necessary to kill herself from thirst. Lynn speared the hoe into the ground and walked back down the row of tomato plants to where the goatskin water flask lay beside the road.

She had just settled on the grass bank and uncorked the flask when a shadow fell across her.

"How's the weeding going?" a voice asked.

Lynn looked up. Chip was standing above her. "Slowly."

"You don't have to do it, you know."

"Yes, I do. It's for the good of my soul."

"But I thought you were guaranteed a place in heaven as one of Celaeno's chosen," Chip said lightly.

"And even as we speak, the Chief Consultant is probably trying to talk the Goddess into reconsidering my status."

"Does that worry you?" Chip sounded genuinely curious.

"Not too much."

"Do you think Gina's right about Celaeno and the Elder-Ones?"

Lynn wrinkled her nose. "She might be. But even if she isn't and I die and get sent to hell, at least I won't have to spend all eternity listening to Sister Dunsin."

Chip laughed and sat down beside her. "You know, you're nothing like how I thought an Imprinter would be."

That's what Kim once said to me, Lynn thought, but did not voice the words aloud. She passed the water flask to Chip. "I'm sorry to be a disappointment."

"Oh no. You certainly haven't been that," Chip said, looking meaningfully at her own stomach, although it would be a few months yet before there was any noticeable sign of her pregnancy.

"But I'm feeling a bit superfluous at the moment, now that I've run out of people who want children."

"You still have a fair amount of work to do, monitoring us and the babies."

"That's hardly a full-time job, and Gina or Lilian would be quite capable of looking after you. Even Carma could, as long as there were no complications. I only do it because"-Lynn paused, looking wistful-"because I've never had the chance to see the babies develop before."

"Really?"

"Yes. Normally a couple only gets the one appointment with the Imprinter. But what I'm most looking forward to is when the babies are born and I get to see them and hold them."

"I think Katryn and I are quite looking forward to that part ourselves." For once, Chip's voice was quietly serious.

Lynn smiled at her. "Anyway, I've fulfilled my commitments as an Imprinter, and I'm not needed as a doctor or a vet, so I might as well be useful as a weeder."

Chip looked solemn. "Well, I don't quite know how to tell you this, but..." She pointed to a tiny green shoot. "You've missed one."

"Thank you." Lynn barged the Ranger with her shoulder. "So what's your excuse for sitting here, doing nothing?"

"I'm waiting for Kim. We're making some more cover points for archers up on the sides of the wall. She wants us to go and check out the angles." Chip looked sideways at Lynn. "I don't suppose you've seen Kim recently?"

"No. I hardly get to see her at all these days." Lynn fought to keep her voice neutral.

"Don't you two-" Chip broke off guiltily and then glanced toward the village. Whatever she might have been about to ask was abandoned at the sight of Kim walking along the road to where they sat. "Ah, here she comes now." Chip scrambled to her feet, brushing dead grass from her clothes. "What kept you?" she called out.

"Nothing worth mentioning. I'm sorry," Kim replied as she drew close and then tagged on the end, "Good morning, Lynn."

"Good morning."

"Right, shall we go and see about the archers?" Kim's attention was immediately back with Chip. The two Rangers headed off on the short walk to the wall.

Lynn sat and watched them go. Then her head sank and she pinched the bridge of her nose between finger and thumb, fighting back the tears. That last exchange was the nearest thing to a conversation she'd had with Kim for days. The Ranger captain was definitely avoiding her, but sitting and crying about it was going to achieve nothing. Lynn marched up the line of tomatoes, seized the hoe, and re-attacked the weeds with the force of her despair.

The end of the row of plants was getting close, and Lynn's thoughts were shifting on to the subject of lunch. Suddenly a desperate cry rang out over the fields, coming from the direction of the wall. The scream was all the more ominous for being cut off abruptly. Work across the valley stopped as people looked toward the source of the sound. Lynn also stared at the wall, shielding her eyes from the sun. She could see people moving to one end, where a massive, weathered cliff face overshadowed the mouth of the valley. Lynn knew a stairway was being cut into this crag to give access to higher viewpoints. Women were gathering around the bottom of the steps, and then one broke away, racing frantically back to the village.

"What's up?" Lynn called as the runner approached.

"Renie's fallen. I'm getting a rope," the woman replied, gasping but not breaking stride as she shot past.

Lynn tossed her hoe aside and began running to the wall. By the time she got there, clusters of people were blocking the steps. Lynn began to squeeze her way through, but at that moment, Kim's voice shouted from above. "If you don't have a reason to be here, then back off. Sergeant Horte, get these people off the steps and don't let anyone up without permission. Gomez, Akmar, we're going to need a stretcher. See to it."

People shuffled back, needing only the slightest urging from the sergeant, while the two named Rangers immediately began hunting for items to use in improvising a stretcher, but Lynn carried on undeterred. Horte looked at her uncomfortably, clearly unwilling to stand in the way of an Imprinter, despite her captain's orders. "Um...I'm not supposed..." she began.

"It's okay. I've got a reason. It sounds like a healer is needed."

The Ranger sergeant still looked unsure, but Lynn had already pushed past and was on the steps. The path followed the route of an eroded crevice in the cliff face, in places climbing as steeply as a stepladder. The final few meters had been hacked into the side of a vertical buttress before leveling out. Lynn clambered up, using her hands as well as her feet, and emerged onto the end of a wide platform of rock. On one side, the cliffs continued up, but the other side ended abruptly in a crumbling edge with a panoramic view over the flood plain below the valley.

It was easy to see why the effort had been made to open the way up. At that point, the cliff projected beyond the mouth of the valley. The ledge presented a clear view across the front of the wall, allowing the entire area to be subjected to crossfire. Anyone trying to climb the barricade was likely to get an arrow in the back. Judging from the piles of rubble, work to level the platform and provide cover for archers was currently in progress.

Kim, Chip, and two other Rangers were already there, standing back from the precipice and talking quietly. They all glanced around as Lynn arrived. "Someone is injured?" she asked before anyone else had the chance to speak.

"Yes. Renie. She's..." Kim pointed vaguely. Clearly, Lynn's unexpected appearance had caught her by surprise, but she recovered quickly when the Imprinter stepped to the edge. Kim grabbed Lynn's arm and pulled her back. "Watch what you're doing. We don't want two of you down there."

Lynn looked at the restraining hand with irritation and then raised her eyes to Kim's. "I'm not stupid. I'll take care. But someone with medical knowledge should look at her."

For once, Kim seemed unsure of what to say. Lynn shook her arm free, then knelt down beside the edge and peered over. The cliff dropped for more than a hundred meters until it reached the level where smashed boulders littered the ground between fir trees. A sudden onset of vertigo threatened to overwhelm Lynn, and the difference between up and down was lost, but she managed to tear her eyes from the distance and refocus closer at hand. At most points, little stood in the way of a body plunging to certain death, but Renie had been lucky and her fall had been stopped by a narrow cleft in the rock, scarcely five meters below the platform. The woman was still alive, that much was certain. However, she had a broken leg with other possible injuries, and her state of consciousness was open to question.

The sound of feet on the steps announced the runner's return with a long coil of rope. Kim took it off the Ranger and said, "Any volunteers to go over?"

"Me," Lynn said immediately.

"No." Kim's rebuttal was equally swift.

"Yes." Lynn shifted back from the edge and stood up. "Renie should be examined before she's moved, and since it has to be someone adept with the healer sense, you've got the choice of me, Gina, or Lilian. Unless you think Renie should lie there until Carma gets back from patrol. I think she's due in tomorrow."

Kim's face set in a frown. Neither the crippled heretic leader nor the eighty-year-old Cloner was a feasible candidate for the job, but she was obviously unhappy with the idea of Lynn going over the edge. "You're too valuable to risk."

"Then don't drop me."

They stared at each other in confrontation while the others on the platform shifted uneasily. In the end, Kim gave way, although she insisted in personally tying the rope around Lynn and double-checking the knot.

A small flutter of panic unsettled Lynn's stomach when she turned around and stepped back off the ledge, but she fixed her eyes on her feet and refused to look down, refused to even think about the drop beneath her. Soon she had reached the spot where Renie lay. Lynn called out to those above to stop letting out the line. The crevice was too narrow for her to get a proper foothold, so she was forced to semi-dangle as she made the examination. At the touch of Lynn's hands, the injured woman's eyelids quivered open, and with the return to consciousness,

her face contorted in pain.

"It's all right, you're going to be fine," Lynn said.

Hardly surprisingly, Renie looked dazed and unable to reply. Lynn placed a hand on her forehead and gently pushed her back into a deep sleep before continuing to investigate the injuries. The fall had left the woman severely bruised, her right leg was broken, one shoulder was dislocated, and she had a potentially worrying blow to the head, but no other injury that had to be dealt with before she was moved. After an awkward struggle, Lynn removed the belt from Renie's waist and bound her two legs together in a temporary splint. Performing the task was tricky while hanging half-suspended. The most difficult part of all was getting enough slack in the rope to put two loops under Renie's arms, but finally the injured woman was secure and Lynn called out to be hauled up.

The ascent was worse than the way down. Lynn had no control over where she was going. It took all her effort, plus a few knocks and scrapes, to fend her comatose patient away from the jagged cliff face. Fortunately, the distance was not great and soon they reached the platform. Hands reached down and dragged them both to safety. The same hands also assisted Lynn to her feet and continued to clasp her, even after she had regained her balance and was well away from the edge.

With some surprise, Lynn realized that Kim was the one holding her, hugging her close-unexpected, though possibly not unnecessary, since her legs were feeling slightly wobbly now that she was standing on firm ground again, with time to think about what she had just done. She tried to remind herself that she had a patient who needed attention, but it was so tempting to spend a few seconds more, leaning against Kim and feeling Kim's arms around her.

"Are you all right?" Kim asked softly.

"Yes, it was Renie who fell." Lynn tried to sound nonchalant, but her legs were still wobbly, and she was no longer sure if this was due only to the memory of dangling over the long drop. She looked up and felt her pulse leap as her eyes met Kim's.

But then, in the space of a heartbeat it changed. The Ranger's face became blank, her eyes broke from the contact, and her arms fell away. As if on cue, a voice called out from beside them on the ledge, asking for advice about arranging the injured woman on the stretcher. Feeling half dazed, Lynn turned to the group around Renie and tried to immerse herself in the task of supervising the stretcher's departure down the steep flight of steps-an awkward maneuver because the stairway had not been cut with the current situation in mind. Plenty of willing hands were available though, and soon Lynn and her patient had left the ledge.

The sounds of the stretcher bearers faded, leaving only the two officers behind. Kim sighed and leaned back against the rock wall behind her, her eyes fixed on the distant mountains on the other side of the flood plain. Chip stood a little way off, studying her friend thoughtfully.

"So just how do things stand between Lynn and you?" Chip asked at last.

"How do you mean?"

"Oh, come on, Kim. You know exactly what I mean."

"We're friends."

"And you weren't in a total panic every second that Lynn was dangling in midair." Chip was at her most sarcastic.

"Of course I was. She's our only Imprinter, and I like her."

"That's all you feel for her?"

Kim stopped and took a few deep breaths. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. "It doesn't matter what I feel for her. She doesn't want me. I told you about that."

"You told me that on the first night after she escaped from the temple, when she was tired, confused, and in pain, you gave her a three-second chance to disagree when you told her that she didn't want you. And now you're totally determined to take that as the final answer."

Kim's face hardened. "Do you see her chasing after me now?"

"You're running away from her so fast I doubt she'd catch you."

"When have you ever known me to run away from an attractive woman?"

"Well, since you're asking, once or twice."

"Oh, be serious."

"I am." And in truth, there was not a trace of humor in Chip's voice.

"So what are you getting at?" For her part, Kim was starting to sound angry.

"What I'm getting at is that you seem to be going out of your way to make yourself miserable."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because of your parents."

"How do they come into this?" Kim snapped back.

Chip was silent for a few seconds, looking at the ground. "Guilt." She raised her eyes to meet Kim's. "I remember when you first joined the squadron. You were like an over-wound spring. And I remember your face as you stood over the body of the first bandit you'd killed and you realized that revenge wasn't really what you wanted. I've seen the way you raced through women as if it was some sort of competition, until you worked out that a never-ending stream of one-night stands wasn't what you wanted either."

"Oh stop-" Kim began, but Chip cut her off.

"No. Let me finish. What you really want is a new family, but you feel guilty that you survived when your parents didn't. You feel guilty that revenge isn't enough for you, and most of all, you feel guilty at the merest hint that a relationship is becoming serious. As if you might be accused of trying to replace your parents and sisters with someone else." Chip sighed. "And I don't think I'm telling you anything you haven't already worked out for yourself."

"If you think I already know it, why are you bothering to tell me?"

"Because I'm your friend, and it's painful to watch you at the moment. I think what you want is Lynn, and I think you're frightened at how much you want her. You're feeling disloyal to your parents, but if they could see you now, do you think they'd be happy to watch you avoiding Lynn, to know you'd renounced any attempt to rebuild a family for yourself? Is that what they'd have wanted for you?"

Kim's anger had faded to a sullen resistance. "But like I said before, Lynn is our only Imprinter. And for anyone to have a family, it means that things are going to have to stay exactly as they are." She pushed herself away from the rock wall and began to head for the steps down, but Chip caught her arm.

"Okay. I'm pregnant at the moment, so maybe it's easy for me to say this, but everyone here chose to leave the Sisters' lands for one reason or another. Until you went back for Lynn, none of us thought we had any chance of having children. But now everyone who wants a baby is expecting one, and I don't see that anybody has the right to ask you and Lynn to sacrifice the rest of your lives on the off chance that they might want more at some stage in the future."

Kim stopped for a second, looking at Chip's earnest face, then freed her arm and walked on down the steps without a word.

CHAPTERTWENTY-ONE- A LEGACY FROM THE ELDER-ONES

othing else under the Goddess's wide skies could complain

with the same frantic desperation as a piglet. From the succession of agonized squeals, anyone would have assumed that Lynn was trying to tear it limb from limb. However, the sounds stopped the instant the small creature was put back in the pen, and were replaced by happy grunts as it charged into its sisters, in a piglet's distinctive impersonation of a small round battering ram on legs. The sow was completely unmoved by it all.

Lynn grinned at the antics and then turned back to Gina and Lilian. They were at the pigpens in the lowlands, checking the state of the young animals and making plans for the cloning work that would soon be beginning on the adults. The tour had concluded with Lynn insisting on lavishing some completely unreciprocated affection on a piglet.

"It's a shame we don't have a couple of the sicross blacks; this valley would suit them perfectly," Lynn said, her thoughts turning again to the practical needs of the community.

Lilian disagreed. "They'd do all right for food, but they wouldn't like the winters. We'd have to put them all up in shelters, and we'd still probably lose a few. The old grays are a lot hardier."

The debate continued. Gina listened with a thoughtful expression, and at last joined in. "It seems as if what we want is something combining the best traits of the sicross and the grays?"

"Ideally, yes," Lynn agreed.

"So why don't you do it?"

Lynn stopped, stunned. "You mean imprint from one breed onto another?"

"Why not?" Gina asked innocently, although she surely knew what the answer would be.

"Because they'd be unique, so they'd have a soul. And you can't eat something with a soul."

"You're right, you can't. You'd be much better off with a knife and fork."

Both Gina and Lilian chuckled at Lynn's confusion as she stood, hands on hips, looking between the elderly pair and trying to work out just how much of what Gina had said was intended as a joke. She had still not found her voice by the time they separated, Lilian going to take a final look at some sheep she was concerned about, while Gina headed toward the path up to Westernfort. Lynn hurried to catch up with the heretic leader.

"You're going to tell me that it's not true the Elder-Ones forbade us to eat anything that hadn't been cloned. It was just something the Sisters made up?" Lynn's voice was halfway between irony and astonishment.

"The Sisters may seem dull and narrow-minded, but you should never underestimate their imagination," Gina joked, and then spoke more seriously. "And they had a basis to work on. The Elder-Ones did tell us not to eat anything that reproduces sexually, but they said it more in the way of practical rather than religious advice. It's an easy way of picking out the native fauna of the planet, all of which is poisonous to us. They also knew that Imprinters would be so rare they'd have a full-time job keeping up with the needs of the human population. Hence they arrived at only having cloned animals for food. What the Sisters made up was all the nonsense about unique individuals having a soul and cloned ones not."

"But..." Lynn started to say something and then stopped. Her head was still twisting the ideas around when they reached the bottom of the path to the upper valley and began the climb.

The trouble was that Gina made far more sense than the Sisters ever had. An Imprinter's training included reading from the Elder-Ones' books. It was essential to do her work. The Sisters did not like it; they would rather have given a censored version, but they did not understand what was involved well enough to know which sections of the books could be abridged safely. They settled for providing convoluted theological rationalizations for all the inconvenient parts of the books, parts such as mention of Y-chromosomes. Gina's explanation was far more coherent. Even so, the moral step of imprinting animals

for food was hard to contemplate.

"Are you still thinking?" Gina asked cheerfully.

"Yes. And I'm not convinced."

"I could tell that from your face." Gina stopped and pointed down at the various herds that were spread across the plain below. "Think about it. All of these animals are descended from gene stock the Elder-Ones brought from the home planet, where they had been bred for human use. Originally they reproduced sexually, just like the indigenous fauna here, so for maybe," Gina shrugged, "thousands of years, our ancestors were quite happily eating unique creatures."

"Then why is cloning humans banned?"

"In part, that's a very easy question to answer. The Sisters get all their money from imprinting fees. They also get most of their power from having a monopoly on human reproduction. They'd be happier if they could keep the Cloners in the temples as well, but it's not practical to have all the farm animals brought to them, so they have to let the Cloners travel freely. Their biggest threat is from a group like us, who move off into the wildlands with a Cloner, but the rebels would only last for one generation, as long as the Sisters impress on people that you must never, never, never clone a human. That's why they drum the idea into people so hard. And very successful they are at it." Gina gave a wry smile. "Even we heretics couldn't quite bring ourselves to take the step, though we did discuss it a lot."

"Didn't the Elder-Ones ban human cloning?"

"Not entirely, although they thought it should only be done as a last resort."

"Why?"

"Ah. Now we get to much trickier ground, and to be honest I don't fully understand it. I don't think any of us now can," Gina said as she turned to continue walking up the slope. "But I've given it a lot of thought."

"And...?"

Gina said nothing for a dozen steps and then she asked, "Have you ever wondered why we only imprint couples who are partners? Why a prospective mother doesn't just choose the most intelligent or healthiest woman she knows and ask her to donate a few DNA sequences?"

"Er...no." Lynn frowned, realizing that the idea had never even occurred to her before.

"Human beings are a pair-bonding species. In theory, that means a male and a female form a long-term bond that holds the couple together until the offspring produced by the union reach adulthood. In practice, it was never that straightforward. This planet is evidence that the human need to form pair bonds is completely unaffected by the absence of one sex. Pair bonding is the reason for the link between procreation and relationships; it's a legacy from the Elder-Ones, though I'm not sure whether it's cultural or innate. Whichever it is, I don't think it's possible for us to grasp all the"-Gina waved her hands-"symbolic importance our ancestors attached to their own sexual behavior. Just imagine, by the simple act of making love with your partner, you could produce a child. They combined all the irrationality of love with the mysticism of the creation of life." Gina sighed. "All of which is a long, roundabout way of explaining why, when it got to human reproduction, the Elder-Ones could be arbitrary, illogical, and occasionally, totally inane. Cloning humans is a good example."

"Which is your roundabout way of explaining why you don't know the answer," Lynn teased.

"Well, I did come across worries about rich egotists creating thousands of copies of themselves, but to be honest, it all read like the rationalizing of the Sisters. I think the reason for the ban was more of a gut feeling a child with only one genetic parent would be an attack on the sanctity of their dual-sex relationships."

They reached the top of the path and passed under the gateway in the wall. Before them, the buildings of Westernfort nestled in the well-tended farmlands. Evening was close at hand and work was stopping for the day. People were drifting back from the distant fields. The light was softening to a golden glow, and the peacefulness of the scene carried Lynn's thoughts along as she mulled over what Gina had said, trying to resolve the conflicts between logic and ethics.

They were halfway between wall and village when the crunching of gravel alerted them to someone overtaking them on the road. Lynn glanced over her shoulder, and her mood of tranquil reflection evaporated. At first, it seemed as if Kim would walk past with only a word of acknowledgment, then she appeared to change her mind and slowed down to match Gina's limping gait. Lynn averted her face and fixed her eyes on the distant ranks of fir trees, while she made sure her expression was under control. She was certain it was not mere chance that Kim had tagged on beside Gina rather than her when joining them to walk three abreast.

"You've been looking at the animals?" Kim asked in the rigid tones of someone straining to be casual.

Gina glanced at Lynn before answering. "Yes. We were down there talking to Lilian."

"You'll be starting cloning soon?"

"In a couple of months."

Again Lynn had ignored the chance to answer, and an awkward silence fell on the group. She was aware of Gina glancing in her direction, as if waiting for her to speak. But eventually the elderly heretic carried on. "In fact, I was talking to Lynn about imprinting the animals rather than cloning. It's our chance to improve the livestock. What do you think people would feel about it?"

"You can answer for the heretics better than me. But some of the Rangers wouldn't be at all happy. I don't think I'd be totally easy myself," Kim said after a little thought.

"And that still goes for you, Lynn?" Gina's head turned to the other side.

"Er...Yes."

"So how about horses? Do you think you could ride something with a soul?" Gina was clearly fighting to keep the conversation going, but no one spoke until Gina elbowed Kim to get a reply.

"Um...maybe...probably. Most Rangers credit their horses with human personalities as it is."

"And Lynn, you'd be happy doing the imprinting?"

"Yes, well...happier."

The silence returned, worse than before, but to Lynn's relief, they reached the first of the buildings and Kim turned off toward the hut she shared with nine other Rangers. The two other women walked across the central square of the village and entered the stone house. Inside the common room, the two residents whose turn it was to cook supper were busy at the hearth. Lynn gave a hasty wave of greeting and headed for her own room, but Gina caught her arm.

"Have you got time to talk?"

Gina's question was verging on the rhetorical. Lynn shrugged by way of answer but made no other comment as she was guided into the room Gina shared with her partner. In recognition of her status as leader and the difficulty she had getting up from the floor, the village carpenters had made Gina a raised bed. It was the only item of private furniture to be found in Westernfort. Gina took a seat on the edge then pulled Lynn down beside her and said, "You know, it's really hard work keeping a conversation going between three people when two of them won't talk to each other."

"I'm sorry. I had my mind on other things." Lynn made the uninspired excuse.

"Obviously."

Lynn stared morosely at the floor, although she could feel Gina's eyes on her. The silence dragged on for such a long time that Lynn jumped when Gina spoke again. "The Elder-Ones' attitude toward relationships has implications for more than just cloning."

"Oh, does it?" Lynn tried to sound interested.

"Even when there were two sexes, people didn't always take someone from the other sex as a partner. When you start thinking it through, the whole thing becomes very confusing, and the Elder-Ones were just as confused as me, although in totally different ways and about completely different things. As I said, it's impossible for us to fully understand their viewpoint. For us, it makes no sense to even start asking whether relationships between women are legitimate, but for the Elder-Ones, it was an issue. Some thought it morally wrong, and at times during the history of the home planet, two people of the same sex who were lovers could be executed for it."

"Executed!" Despite herself, Lynn's attention was caught.

"It was an extreme response. Usually people were a tad more easygoing."

"But when they planned this world, didn't they..." Lynn's voice trailed off in bewilderment.

"Think?" Gina laughed as she finished the sentence for her. "Some did and some didn't. And at the time the Elder-Ones left the home planet, society was far more tolerant. Even between the Elder-Ones, attitudes differed. It's one of the things Peter McKay talks about in his diary. He thought same-sex relationships were all perfectly okay and normal, whereas others thought them slightly undesirable, and some were even less happy than that. I'm afraid Himoti herself was in the last group. Peter McKay admitted he was baffled by her, but there's evidence in his diary that the imposition of celibacy on her followers was due solely to Himoti's personal dislike of same-sex pairings." Gina looked soberly at Lynn. "Which is another very roundabout way of saying that I don't think there is any reason for you not to have a lover."

"Oh." Lynn's eyes returned to the floor, while a miserable frown creased her face.

Gina sat back and considered her for a while. "Now I admit, I didn't expect you to shout 'whoopee,' charge out the door, and fling yourself on the first woman you met, but I did expect a bit more of a reaction from you."

"Well... partly, what you say, I've half suspected myself, though I wasn't completely certain." Lynn's voice was flat.

"Oh, I'm not completely certain. Peter McKay wasn't a geneticist. There may be some valid reasons for Himoti's standpoint that he wasn't aware of. But I'd say it wasn't an unreasonable risk to take. If you wanted to."

Lynn took a deep breath and sighed. "That's the other part. Wanting. There's only..." Her voice died and her eyes squeezed shut in an agonized grimace.

"Kim," Gina suggested quietly.

Lynn needed several more strained breaths before she could go on. "I'm that obvious?"

"About as obvious as she is over you."

Lynn shook her head in denial. "She doesn't want me."

"How do you know?"

"She told me so."

"Did she, now?" Gina said in mock surprise. "Well, I wouldn't pay any attention to that. If I were you, I'd take her somewhere private and have a few words with her."

"Oh no," Lynn said swiftly. "Not after the last time I did that, in the stable." Her head sank even lower. "You heard about what they did to her?"

"The flogging?"

Lynn nodded. "Sister Dunsin made me watch. It was..." Lynn stopped, hunting for words. "It was awful and it was all my fault. And Kim...it's not surprising if she doesn't want anything to do with me. Sometimes I'm amazed she is even willing to wish me a good morning." Lynn buried her face in her hands.

Gina shifted over and put an arm around Lynn's shoulders. "I'm probably not the best person to get advice from. I came to the whole game a bit late in life myself. But I think it's like imprinting. You need to follow your heart."

Lynn nodded and slowly got to her feet. "I don't know. It's..."

"It's probably best if I mind my own business," Gina said in self-mockery. "I'm sure the pair of you will sort things out in the end."

"What's the point in having a leader who minds her own business?" The corner of Lynn's mouth twitched in a sad smile. "And I'm not sure if there's anything to sort out, but thanks for trying to help." She turned and left the room, leaving Gina still sitting, looking in despair at the closed door.

CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO- THE FESTIVAL OF THE FIRSTBORN

he eleventh of August was the festival of the firstborn.

At the temple in Landfall, the occasion would have been marked with great solemnity. The Sisters would have spent the day in fasting and prayer, and the Chief Consultant herself would have read to the assembled faithful from the book of the Elder-Ones. Streams of worshipers would have entered the temple to lay offerings at the various shrines, amid sweet, thick clouds of incense.

At Westernfort, the heretics decided to hold a party. They might not have seen the birth of the first children on the planet as an act of divine benevolence, but they did concede that it was an important historical date, and by the following year, they would have their own firstborn to celebrate.

The day was hot and sticky, an added incentive to quit the fields early, so that by midafternoon all work in the valley had ceased, except for the heroic chefs who braved the heat of the cooking fires to prepare food. By the time the sun was dropping behind the mountains, groups of women were congregating all around the village square, laughing and shouting to their friends. In one corner, a band with pipes and drums were engaged in a last practice before their skills would be called on to entertain their comrades.

Lynn sat with the players, adding her clear voice to their music. At the prompting of a couple of the Rangers, she even sang a few of the traditional hymns for the day, songs in praise of Celaeno. Some heretics frowned disapprovingly, but Gina only looked at her from the far side of the square, smiling and shaking her head. It was not a day to get dogmatic.

The light began to fade and a gentle evening breeze eased the temperature toward more bearable levels, enough for dancing to become an attractive idea. Soon the glow from the burning torches around the square fell on rows of couples, swirling in time to the music. Pots and baskets of food were set out on blankets at one side, drawing lines, and flagons of beer were passed from woman to woman.

When her singing was not required, Lynn wandered around the edge of the gathering, entranced. The scene called back memories of her childhood: the village celebrations, scuffling with her friends, eating honey cakes, and watching her parents dancing in the moonlight. She looked up. The sky was turning deepest blue, and the shining orb of Hardie hung overhead, a full moon, like a sign of blessing upon the exuberant revelers. Lynn was struck by the thought that there was more true gratitude for the gifts they had received in the wild cavorting before her than in all the ceremonies at the temple. The goddess who did not prefer the heretics' celebration of life to the Sisters' dead chants was not worth worshipping.

However, Lynn's pleasure in the party was not unqualified. She was not sure if she was avoiding Kim, or if Kim was avoiding her, but they always managed to be where the other one was not. An awareness started to nag at her, that a loosely defined and variable part of the square was out of bounds, and a worry that she would be the one to make a false step and cause an embarrassing encounter. Singing became a refuge, since her position was fixed at the front of the band, and it was therefore Kim's responsibility to maintain her distance.

By the time true dark had fallen, the strain had begun to tell, and the smile on Lynn's face was forced. Her dejection was not helped by the increasingly common sight of couples kissing in the shadows that thickened around the edges of the square. Singing would not provide an escape for much longer. Her voice was starting to fail, and the music was progressing to more riotous tunes that were not suited to vocal accompaniment.

Lynn felt as if a cloak of misery had wrapped itself around her, isolating her from the rest of the village. She was detached. A lone, pathetic observer on the sidelines.

Lynn never got near enough to Kim to see that she was also unhappy and taking only the most desultory part in the festivities, but others were watching them both and passing comments.

Chip stood at the side of the square with Katryn, their arms around each other's waist. They talked together quietly during a lull in the music, while their eyes moved between Kim and Lynn. At last, Chip gave her considered opinion. "I can't stand watching them any longer."

"But what can you do?"

"I'll think of something."

"You're more likely to put your foot in it," Katryn warned, but her partner only grinned.

"Of course. That's what I do best."

Chip disentangled herself, but Katryn caught her hand before she could go. "I'm serious. You're not going to get thanks from either of them if you make things worse."

"Can it get worse?"

"Of course it can. Just think things through first."

The music began again. Chip tilted her head to one side. "I've thought." She turned and walked off through the crowd, heading toward Lynn's last spotted location. She found the Imprinter standing alone and well to the back of the audience. Lynn's face held an expression of poorly concealed misery that changed to a half-hearted smile of greeting when she saw Chip approaching.

"How are you doing?" the Ranger asked.

"Okay," Lynn replied, although her tone would have implied otherwise.

"You're not dancing."

"I don't know how."

"What!"

The surprise in Chip's voice drew the first genuine smile from Lynn. "The last time I was at a party like this, I was eleven. I did dance with one of my friends, but I'm afraid it degenerated into a battle to stamp on each other's toes, and I've not had the chance to improve my technique since then. The Sisters don't encourage dancing."

"Come on, then. There's someone I want you to meet."

Chip did not allow any chance to protest. She slipped an arm through Lynn's and dragged her off around the square. After the first couple of forced steps, Lynn came along willingly enough, although Chip suspected that she would rather have been left alone, and if she was hoping for something to distract her from brooding about Kim, she was going to be disappointed. The challenge would be to get Lynn to their destination before she knew where they were headed.

To Chip's satisfaction, the shadows and the interposing bodies did the trick. Triumphantly, she pulled Lynn to a stop in front of Kim and gave a mock bow. "Lynn, allow me to present Captain Ramon, who, I'm sure, will be more than happy to dance with you. She is without question the worst dancer in the whole squadron. So no matter how rusty your own skills might be, you can rest assured that you will have a partner who is in no position to offer criticism."

Chip had not been counting on immediate smiles and harmony, but the result fell short of her most pessimistic fears. For a few agonizing seconds, Kim and Lynn stared at each other, confusion becoming dismay, and in Kim's case, anger.

Her friend turned a furious face on Chip. "You can be a complete pain sometimes. If I'd wanted to dance with Lynn, I'd have asked her myself. I don't need you dumping people on me."

Kim's raised voice had heads swiveling in their direction. Lynn took a step back. Her words were blurted out. "I'm sorry. Please don't think I put her up to this. I wouldn't dream of imposing myself on you. I don't..." Lynn's voice choked, then she whirled around and dived off through the crowds.

"No, Lynn, wait. I didn't mean..." Kim called after her, presumably realizing too late how her angry words would have sounded, but Lynn kept going, her pace not slacking as she left the square and disappeared down the pathway between two of the surrounding buildings.

"Look what you've done." Kim turned on Chip again.

"I've done!"

"Yes, you."

"I merely suggested that the two of you might like to dance together. It was you who gave the impression you thought dancing with her had the general appeal of a shit sandwich."

Kim's eyes fixed on the point where Lynn had vanished. "Oh... Himoti's tits. What do I do now?"

"How about going after her and explaining what you really meant?"

"I can't do that."

Chip fixed her friend with a long, hard stare. "You know, Kim, for a brave woman, you can be a hell of a coward sometimes." Then she also turned and left the distraught Ranger captain alone.

The sounds of the party faded behind Lynn as she headed out of the village and up the hillside beyond, walking with no particular goal in mind, just a wish to find somewhere where she could cry in solitude. Soon the cultivated fields ended, and she reached the narrow band of rough pasture below the tree-covered upper slopes. By now, the music from the village was no more than a distant rumble. Water gurgled nearby. Lynn followed the gentle sound, still climbing, until she reached the banks of a small stream cascading down the hillside.

The moonlight was bright enough to glitter on the spray and light the scene in silver-white and blue-black shadows. The air was soft and warm. A faint breeze stirred in the treetops and carried the rich scents of the firs. Lynn stopped walking at the point where the forest began and leaned her back against the trunk of a tree, watching the leaping stream and giving herself over to grief. Yet despite her expectation, tears did not come, just a numbing wave of hopelessness. For a while, she stood listening to the senseless babbling of the water, then she heard another sound, the rustle of someone approaching, following her trail through the knee-high grass.

"Lynn?" The voice was Kim's.

Lynn hesitated. What she most wanted to do was hide, but it was hardly an adult way to behave. She forced herself to answer. "I'm here."

Lynn folded her arms in front of herself, waiting defensively, as Kim joined her beside the stream, although the Ranger elected to maintain a few meters distance between them.

"Lynn? Are you all right?"

"Oh, of course," Lynn joked with mirthless irony.

"I...I wanted to say I'm sorry. I didn't mean that I didn't want to dance with you. I was just angry at Chip for playing the fool."

"That's okay."

Seconds passed while Kim stood watching her uncertainly. "Will you come back to the village with me?"

"No," Lynn said sharply, but then relented at little and added, "No. You go back. I'll be fine."

"I can't just leave you alone here."

Lynn could not force out an answer. She raised one hand to cover her eyes as a dry sob shook her body.

Kim took a few steps forward until she was within arm's reach. "Lynn. What's wrong?"

"You told me we could be friends." Lynn's voice was raw with pain.

"Aren't we?"

"This is the most we've spoken together for weeks." Lynn's hand dropped from her face and she stared, unseeing, at the ground in front of her feet.

"I...Yes, well...I'm sorry. I've been busy and..." Kim's disordered mumbling died.

"It seems more like you've been avoiding me."

"It's not that I don't want to be your friend."

"Simply that you don't like being anywhere near me?" Lynn suggested bitterly.

"No!"

"It's all right if you don't want anything to do with me. You don't have to pretend."

"It's not that, Lynn. Honestly it's not." Kim sounded desperate. She lifted her hand to touch Lynn's arm, but then let it fall, the gesture unfinished. "If you want to see more of me, I'll make time for you. I promise. I'll do whatever you want. Anything."

Lynn's face twisted in a grimace. "You should be more careful about what you promise."

"I mean it."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Because at the moment, I really desperately want to kiss you again." Lynn did not dare to look up, dreading to see either anger or dismay on Kim's face.

The silence dragged on until Kim said quietly, "You're an Imprinter."

"So?"

"You have to be celibate."

"Gina thinks that's just a superstition the Sisters made up."

"And what do you think?"

"I don't know. I don't care. I love you." Lynn's eyes were fixed on the ground. "But I guess it's my problem. I'm sure I'll get over it in the end. You don't have to feel responsible or anything, and if you say good night and rush away, I'll understand."

Deliberately, Kim stepped forward to stand in front of Lynn, blocking her field of vision; then both of Kim's hands moved to rest on Lynn's shoulders, holding her gently but firmly. For a while neither moved, but at last Lynn raised her chin so their eyes met.

"Why would I want to rush away?" Kim asked softly.

"Because of what happened last time. You've got every right to want to avoid me. I didn't give you a chance back in Petersmine. It wasn't what you wanted, but I threw myself at you, and you suffered for it."

"Do you think I don't know how to sidestep if a woman throws herself at me and I don't want to catch her?" Kim paused. "I love you too. I fell in love with you at the mountain fort, and I still love you. I wanted you in the stable and I want you now."

"But you said..."

Lynn did not get to finish her sentence. Kim's hands slipped behind her back, pulling her away from the tree, enfolding her. Lynn's breath became ragged as she felt what it was like to be held by Kim again, and then to feel the firmness of Kim's body filling her own arms. She gave herself totally to the embrace. Kim's cheek pressed against her forehead, tilting her face back, and then Kim's mouth met hers. The kiss claimed her entire being. Nothing else had ever been so real. Lynn could no longer feel the ground beneath her feet. She was adrift and floating, anchored only by the soft touch of Kim's lips.

By the time they broke from the kiss, they were both shaking. Lynn's legs were weak, unable to support her, and her head was spinning. Kim looked at the ground, but it was Lynn who made the decision, sinking down and drawing Kim after her. The grass rustled beneath her and a few stray blades tickled her cheek, but then Kim was lying beside her and kissing her again and driving away all other awareness. The wandering kiss moved from Lynn's mouth to her eyes and then down her neck to the base of her throat. Lynn lifted her hands, running her fingers over Kim's back and through Kim's hair.

Kim tugged Lynn's shirt free of her waistband. At the touch of Kim's hand on her skin, Lynn gasped. The sound arrested Kim's actions. She raised herself on one elbow and looked down at Lynn, her face showing her uncertainty.

"Don't stop," Lynn said quickly.

"Are you sure?"

"I love you."

"But are you sure this is what you want?" Kim asked gently.

"Of course I'm not sure, but I can't bear not to."

Kim's hand moved to the ties on Lynn's shirt, loosening them one by one, until the two sides fell open, exposing Lynn's bare skin to the warm night air. Again, Kim lowered her mouth, her tongue investigating the line of Lynn's shoulder, and then further down. Her lips nuzzled Lynn's breasts and finally opened around a nipple, sucking gently. A high-pitched sound, like the cry of a newborn puppy, escaped from the back of Lynn's throat. She felt Kim's tongue working on her ever more ardently. Lynn tugged on Kim's clothing, attempting, without success, to pull her shirt off. Thankfully, Kim felt what she was trying to do and sat up. In a few deft movements, Kim had loosened the fastening at her neck, caught hold of the hem, and drawn it over her head.

Lynn reached out to touch the softness of Kim's skin, trying to draw her back, but Kim stretched down to untie her own shoelaces. After a few deep breaths, Lynn managed to sit up as well, slipping her arms free of her open shirt. She tried to copy Kim's actions, but her fingers had lost their dexterity and she needed Kim's help to complete the task. Kim then pressed her back to lie on the grass before moving her attention to the fastening at Lynn's waist. Her eyes met Lynn's in an appeal for assistance. Lynn braced her shoulders and heels on the ground, lifting her hips and allowing Kim to remove the last of her clothing.

Lynn faltered briefly, looking down and seeing her own body lying naked in the moonlight. But then Kim was back with her, also naked, driving away any doubts with the touch of skin on skin and taking her to unimagined levels of arousal. Her own mouth was moving over Kim's neck and shoulders, tracing the edge of Kim's jaw, and returning time and again to Kim's mouth. Kim's hands became ever more eager, cupping her breasts, running over her stomach, down her hips, and along the outside of her leg. The gentle stroking awoke every nerve in Lynn's body in tingling ripples. Passion swelled with each minute until it seemed impossible for it to get more intense, but finally, in a deliberate move, Kim's hand slipped over the knee and onto the soft skin of Lynn's inner thigh.

The breath stopped in Lynn's throat. Her body froze in the shock that swept through her, and then slowly Kim's hand began to travel higher, getting closer to the center of the paralyzing response. Tremors seized Lynn, shaking her in small convulsions while the sensation grew stronger, until Kim's hand finished its journey. Lynn heard her own voice whimpering, but she no longer had control over herself. All she could feel was Kim's fingers, stroking, exploring, delving in the folds between her legs, until finally they entered her.

Lynn's body arched, her arms clinging around Kim's shoulders, but the support was withdrawn as Kim slid away. Lynn reached after her, feebly trying to pull her back, but Kim moved with sure intent, her mouth fixing over its goal. Lynn felt the soft, wet warmth of Kim's tongue imposing a new rhythm on her waves of arousal, sweeping her along until nothing existed except the ever-growing ecstasy.

Abruptly, there was a moment of emptiness as the tongue left her, but Kim's hand maintained the rhythm. Lynn opened her eyes and looked up to see Kim's face above her, staring down into her eyes. Suddenly, everything bound together: the fingers inside her, the pressure outside, and Kim's face. The surge of orgasm crashed and burst over her. Lynn heard a voice cry into the dark and knew it was her own. A ball of pure pleasure erupted inside her, racing down her legs, up her spine. Kim's face became one with the night sky, while the ground under Lynn's shoulders fell away, twisted inside out, and flowed back.

And then the world dropped back into place and she was lying, gasping in the grass, with Kim beside her, holding her tightly. Lynn's limbs were heavy with the weight of the release.

Kim's mouth twitched into a smile as she asked, "Are you all right?"

This was such a silly question that Lynn was seized by a fit of giggles.

"Can I take that as a yes?"

Lynn's heartbeat was returning to normal. She looked up at Kim and then raised her hand to stroke Kim's cheek. Kim twisted her head, kissing Lynn's fingers, eyes closed. Lynn studied Kim's face, the tautness around her mouth, the faint lines across her forehead. Despite her own feeling of peace, no sensitivity was required to see the tension that still held Kim, or to know what was needed to dispel it.

Lynn shifted her hand to Kim's shoulder and pressed her back until Kim was lying on the grass and Lynn was the one raised on an elbow. Lynn looked down the length of Kim's body, taking in the clean lines of Kim's legs, the dark triangle of hair, the soft curves of Kim's hips and stomach, the arch of ribs, and Kim's round breasts. Finally, Lynn's gaze came to rest on Kim's face and the watchful expression there.

One corner of Lynn's mouth twitched down in a faintly apologetic look as she said, "I'm afraid, my love, that I'm not going to be very good at this. It's your own fault for picking a novice. I'll try my best." Lynn felt a grin growing on her lips. "But I may need to practice quite a lot."

Lynn placed her forefinger on the hollow at the base of Kim's throat, and then very slowly, she began to trace a line down.

It was a long time later when Lynn stirred herself. The night was growing cold, picking at exposed skin, although the parts that were pressed against Kim were still hot. Lynn shifted around slightly, making space. Kim nuzzled back against her, drowsy in the languor that had followed their lovemaking. A soft smile crossed Lynn's face, but they could not stay there all night. She ran her hand over Kim's shoulder.

"Do you think we should be going back?"

"Mmm, probably," Kim murmured, though she made no attempt to move. But eventually, she roused herself and sat up. Hardie had traveled across the sky and the crescent of Laurel was just rising. Kim stared at the moons while her expression shifted through a range of emotions, then she looked back down at Lynn and asked. "How do you feel?"

"Wonderful."

Kim grinned, but then her face became serious. "I meant with regard to..."

Lynn finished the sentence for her. "Imprinting?"

Kim gave a quick nod.

Lynn shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not sure how it would feel not to be an Imprinter, and I probably won't know until I put it to the test. But..."

"But?"

Lynn sat up and leaned against Kim. "No matter how it works out, I've got no regrets." She raised her head and stared in the direction of the village.

"You're looking thoughtful."

"I'm wondering if there's any food left."

Kim laughed. "With a whole squadron of Rangers down there? No chance."

The walk back down the hillside was a minor revelation to Lynn. Of course, she knew there were going to be adjustments to her life, new complexities to deal with. What she had not considered was that even mundane things like walking would be affected, but she became aware of it rapidly, once they set off and Kim put an arm around her waist in the way of lovers. Lynn had watched women walking like that, even dreamed of strolling with Kim's arm around her. What she had not expected was how much it upset her balance, and the need to adjust her stride to the woman beside her. It was worth persevering with, of that Lynn was sure, but how much else would she have to relearn?

The village square was much quieter than when they had left. The music and dancing had stopped long ago, and most women had gone to their beds, although a few were still gathered, talking quietly. Midnight was not far off, and folk would be rising for the next day's work in under five hours. The cows would not take account of the festival in their demands for milking.

They separated at the edge of the square, with Kim suggesting, "If you can find some food, I'll see if there's anything left to drink."

As predicted, most of the food containers were empty, but Lynn found a pot with a few centimeters of spicy sauce at the bottom and half a loaf of bread to scoop it out. She was working her way through the other bowls when her attention was diverted from the food by a figure who came and crouched beside her.

Chip reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything, just nod if I'm forgiven for dropping you in it again."

"I'm not sure." Lynn's voice was lightly teasing.

"You're not sure," the Ranger repeated skeptically. She nodded toward the bread in Lynn's hand and said, "It gives you an appetite, doesn't it?"

From the grin on Chip's face, there was no mistaking her meaning. Lynn felt a faint blush rise on her cheeks and averted her face. She then turned back to the Ranger and began, "What makes you..." But she felt laughter rising and could not finish the question. Over Chip's shoulder, she saw Kim returning.

Chip's grin became even broader as she followed the direction of Lynn's eyes. She answered Lynn's unfinished question. "What makes me leap to conclusions? It's easy. There's only one known activity that puts a smile on a woman's face like the ones you and Kim have got."

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE-TROUBLE

ynn, what is your last name?" Katryn asked in idle curiosity.

Lynn looked across at the Ranger, who was lying on the grass with her head cushioned on Chip's legs and a half-eaten apple in her hand. "It should be was, not is. And the answer is that I don't remember."

"You don't?" This time, Kim was speaker.

Lynn had to twist her neck to look at Kim. Her lover was currently sitting behind her, serving as a backrest. The four women were by the banks of the river, taking a light lunch and sheltering from the midday sun in the shade of a tree. It was the sort of gathering that had become a common event in the month since the festival. It was also a display of the adjustments in Lynn's everyday life-the inclusion as part of a couple, the casual sharing of physical space with Kim, and the intangible sense of being seen as slightly less different from everyone else. The subject of her family background had probably never occurred to Katryn before.

Lynn explained, "I think I knew what my last name was when I was a child, but it wasn't very important to me. I came from a small community where everyone recognized me and knew who my parents were. Anyway, the name of the farm was more useful in identifying me. Then, after I went to the temple, it was never mentioned again, and I just forgot."

"If you want, we could invent a new name for you, like Gina's," Chip offered mischievously.

"No, thank you," Lynn said and then looked over to the Ranger as an old question occurred to her. "While we're on the subject of names, why are you called Chip, and what's your real name?"

At the question, Katryn gave a yelp of laughter and Kim said dryly, "Careful, my love, you're on dangerous ground. Her first name is not something to be thrown about lightly. All you need to know is that she answers to Chip when she's in a good mood, Coppelli when she's being a proper Ranger, and when you hear her rank thrown in as well, you know it means trouble."

"But what's wrong with her name?" Lynn was undeterred.

Chip sighed in resignation. "My name is one of the many things I hold against my parents. They wanted me to join the Sisterhood. Not because they were particularly religious; they had ulterior motives."

Lynn stared at her for a second and then curled forward, laughing at the thought of Chip in a Sister's white robes, and the impact her blunt honesty would have on the intrigues of a temple sanctum.

"Why does everyone start cackling like a lunatic when I tell them that?" Chip feigned surprise. "Anyway, my parents decided to give me a shove in the right direction with what they thought of as a suitable name-Piety. And before you start getting ideas, I'll warn you, I've thumped people in the past for calling me it." Chip scowled, but her tone removed any threat from her words. "They sent me to a school at the temple. Like many children, I loved chips and a Sister made one of those daft comments along the lines of"-she adopted a high-pitched whine-"If you eat any more, we'll have to start calling you chip." She dropped back to her normal voice. "I said that I'd rather be called Chip than Piety. The other kids overheard me and I got my wish."

"It was a good thing her favorite food wasn't tarts," Katryn cut in, teasing her partner, who responded by poking her in the ribs.

Lynn watched the resulting hand-wrestling match with a happy grin. She was more content than at any time she could remember, and for more reasons than the obvious one. Mind you, she thought, snuggling back against Kim, the obvious one is pretty damned good. Then her eyes shifted to the vegetable patch and she sighed. Not everything could be perfect. It was time to get back to work. She was about to twist around and tell Kim, when a shout came from the general direction of the wall.

"Captain Ramon, Lieutenant Coppelli!"

A Ranger was running toward them, a recently returned scout by the look of her, still dressed in full field kit with a scabbard swinging at her side. In her haste, the woman stumbled recklessly along the uneven footpath, racing on legs that seemed none too steady. She was clearly pushing her body to its limits.

"And this is trouble." Katryn gave her judgment even before the Ranger was close enough to recognize.

Kim was on her feet in an instant and advancing to meet the scout. "What is it?"

"Captain Ramon. Rozek is back with more Guards." The Ranger skidded to a halt, speaking between gasps.

"How many?"

"Two hundred or so."

"Where?"

"When I left, they were still a day's ride east of the old farm. Sergeant O'Neil and I were supposed to be meeting a family of heretics who've had to flee the Sisters, but when we saw the Guards, I came straight back here. The sergeant is staying to keep an eye on them and to see if she can find the heretics before Rozek does."

Kim nodded as she considered the information. Sergeant O'Neil was one of the oldest women in the squadron, a very experienced and competent Ranger who would have no trouble avoiding capture, but she could not be left to deal with Rozek on her own.

Kim looked back to the scout. "How long ago was this?"

"Seven days. I had O'Neil's horse as well."

Lynn looked at the woman with respect and more than a little concern. It was scarcely surprising the scout looked so exhausted. She must have punished herself getting back so quickly, and even with switching mounts, the horses would be in a worse state.

Kim's thoughts had moved on. "So by now they will have gotten to the site of the old farm and discovered we're not there. I guess it's too much to hope they'll have given up and gone back." She looked at Chip. "Let's find Gina. We need to make plans."

The still night air carried the cry of a hunting bird to Lynn, a high note overlaying the distant murmur of the river. Weak moonlight edged between the window shutters, just sufficient to pick out the pile of clothes on the floor and Kim's motionless outline in the bed beside her. Lynn sighed and rolled onto her back.

"Can't you sleep?" Kim whispered.

"No. Can't you either?"

"Well, not with you tossing and turning every five minutes."

"I'm sorry."

"Are you worrying?"

"I can't help it." Lynn stared at the ceiling, making sure she had full control of her voice before adding, "When you ride out tomorrow, promise me you'll be careful."

Kim put an arm around her and held her tight. "I'll be careful, I promise. I'm not going to gamble with the lives of half the squadron."

"I guess that's partly it. There's going to be you and two patrols. Seventeen Rangers, against two hundred Guards."

"Most of us would say it was pretty even odds." Kim tried to joke, but Lynn was not amused.

"No, it's not."

Kim stroked the hair back from Lynn's face. "Don't worry. I'm not going to engage Rozek head-on. If there's a suitable opportunity, I'll make things unpleasant for her and her Guards, so they'll think twice in the future before coming into the mountains. But I won't take risks, because there's no need. They don't know where Westernfort is, and even if they did, it would take more than two hundred Guards to force their way through the wall."

"And Rozek?"

"What about her?"

Lynn paused, trying to put her fears into words. "She had you beaten and flogged. And when she couldn't rig it that you were hung by the court-martial, she deliberately tried to murder you. I'm scared you're going to want revenge, and you might not think things through clearly."

Kim leaned forward and kissed Lynn gently on the lips. "No, my love. Revenge is just a way of sacrificing your future to your past, and I'm not going to play that game. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about."

The Guards' encampment at the site of the old village was the highly disciplined shambles the Rangers had come to expect. Kim studied it from a concealed hilltop vantage point and shook her head, bemused that any soldier would value straight lines over making use of the land's topography. The sentries were evenly spaced out, regardless of their field of view or any other sensible consideration. Even the decision to occupy the village was questionable. There was no spot from where a commander could observe the whole site, and the heretics had arranged the village for domestic rather than military purposes, yet without thinking things through, the Guards had placed their supplies in the old barns at the edge of the site, where they were exposed to attack, as well as being a long way from the nearest source of water.

"Doesn't it just scream 'Raid me, raid me'?" Sergeant O'Neil was equally impressed.

"Possibly," Kim said.

"Are we going to?"

"I must admit it's tempting to see what a fire in the stores would do."

Sergeant O'Neil chuckled. "Give them a hungry journey home."

Kim continued her appraisal of the site. When Rozek had not shown up by the beginning of August, she had assumed the Guards were not coming that year. Otherwise the old farm would never have been chosen as the rendezvous for the family of heretics. It was still anyone's guess why the Guards had bothered coming so late in the year. September was passing rapidly, and Rozek's troops would have to start their return journey very soon if they did not wish to be overtaken by winter. Possibly the turmoil caused by Lynn's escape had delayed the Guards. The absence of Rangers in the company might also have caused delays. A smile crossed Kim's face as she wondered how many times Rozek had gotten lost trying to retrace her steps from the previous year. Maybe she had even been forced to return for more supplies. Presumably, Rangers were no longer trusted after the desertion by the 23rd Squadron.

But all of that was speculation. What was certain was that the Guards posed no threat to Westernfort. They clearly had no idea of where the village had moved to and no way of finding out. It was hard to see what purpose they thought they were serving by staying at the site. Evading their scouting parties was absurdly easy. Their red uniforms showed up like beacons.

Kim sighed and turned back to Sergeant O'Neil with her decision. "Tempting, but not worth the risk. I think we should settle for ambushing a few of them when they leave the village."

The two Rangers were about to slip away through the covering vegetation and rejoin the others when a minor disturbance erupted on the far side of the camp. The Guards seemed excited, although at first the reason was not apparent. But then Kim saw six bound prisoners being dragged into the village, one of them a child of less than ten.

"Damn. It's the family of heretics," Sergeant O'Neil said, horrified.

"How did Rozek find them before us?" Kim was angry, largely at herself, knowing she had been a touch too complacent. "I guess this changes things."

"We'll try to rescue them?"

"We have to. We can't let them be taken back for execution. If they live that long."

"You think Rozek will kill them here?"

"Maybe not intentionally, but she's never going to believe them when they say they don't know where the village has moved to." Kim's face was stern, remembering Rozek's style of conducting an interview. Her eyes returned to the encampment, and she studied the cover and contours of the land, noting the exact position of sentries and making her plans.

Midnight was very close. One lone moon hung low in the sky, Laurel as a quarter crescent. Its feeble light was only the faintest wash of blue over the occupied village, but from where Kim lay in the grass, the sentries showed up as sharp silhouettes against the brilliant backdrop of stars. Two were in view, standing thirty meters apart at one corner of the site, hidden from other sentries by bushes and a dip in the ground. Kim wondered whether the Guards had the faintest idea of how close at hand their enemies were, or how isolated they would be when the attack came. Both stood rigidly at attention, as if on display at the temple gates, and neither had moved a muscle for half an hour. By now, their eyes would have glazed, their brains would be numb, and their bodies stiff and slow to respond.

Kim's lips formed a circle to whistle the signal, an imitation birdcall, but then stopped, staring intently at the two silhouettes, in the abrupt awareness that this was not a raid on bandits. The Guards were guilty of no crime, were probably decent enough women, soldiers like herself who were obeying their orders. Kim bore them no personal ill will, but neither did she have any options. The Guards' helmets made it too risky to attempt to knock them out quietly. Whatever I do, some women will die as a result. Either Guards or the family of heretics, Kim told herself. Asking politely won't be enough to make Major Rozek release her prisoners.

Kim closed her eyes as she made a silent appeal to the Goddess that she no longer believed in, then looked up and gave the signal. At once, two new figures rose up silently behind the Guards. Swift, synchronized thrusts, and then the bodies of the Guards fell to the ground. The fact it was so easy only made it worse, but the guilt and regrets must wait. A job was waiting to be done.

Kim jumped up and signaled the rest of the Rangers forward. As they approached the first hut, the women split into three groups. The smallest was made up of Kim and three of the most experienced Rangers. The two slightly larger parties went left and right, on stealthy routes toward the stores and the horses, while Kim's group headed straight into the heart of the village, aiming for the hut Rozek had commandeered. The prisoners would most likely be there, but if not, Rozek would certainly know where they were. A grim smile touched Kim's face; it might be fun to ask Rozek a few questions for a change.

The feeling was strange, almost dreamlike, walking through the village that had been her home for several months, but which was now occupied by her enemies. The three Rangers followed her, slipping from shadow to shadow between the dark, silent huts, heading confidently to their goal. Rozek had been helpful in choosing to occupy a spot where the layout was so familiar to them, and even more helpful to mark her headquarters with a tall gold and red standard at the door.

The sound of quiet talking came from one round hut as they passed. If it had been Rangers or Militia inside, Kim would have suspected an illicit late-night card game. With Guards, it was more likely a prayer meeting for the overzealous. There was no sign that anyone else in the village was awake until they were within sight of Rozek's headquarters. The major had taken over one of the largest buildings that opened onto the central square. A smaller hut was next to it, with two sentries stationed outside the door. Surely a useful pointer to the place where the heretics were held.

The Rangers halted while Kim whispered her instructions, and then they set off again, silently moving around the square and finally approaching the jail from the rear. Once there, the small group split into two pairs that edged around the hut in opposite directions, so as to advance on the entrance from either side. As she crept around the dry stone wall, Kim could hear a voice from inside-Rozek's-speaking in the clear, impassive voice Kim remembered.

"Where have the traitors and heretics gone?"

The reply was a confused mumbling, spoken between sobs. Kim could not pick out the words, only the terror. Instinctively, her hand moved to the hilt of her sword.

Rozek spoke again. "Oh, come on. You know I don't believe that."

More mumbling, with the words "please" and "don't know" in it.

"So you went wandering through the mountains without any idea of where you were going, just on the off-chance you might come across your friends?" Rozek spoke in contemptuous irony.

By now, Kim was closer to the door of the hut, and the answer was spoken clearly enough to make out parts. "We've told you...were to be met...don't know...please believe us."

"I'm not that stupid." Rozek's voice sounded bored. "And I will get the truth from you in the end. I have not enjoyed the last few hours, but it is only the start of what I am prepared to do to get what I want. It can take all night, and all tomorrow, and as many days after that as are necessary. So perhaps we should start again, although with a different subject. You obviously don't care about your old mother, but perhaps the child. She-" Rozek's words were cut off by screams of anguished entreaty from more than one woman.

"No."

"Please."

"Oh. So you do care about your daughter." Rozek mimicked surprise. "Then where have the traitors and heretics gone?"

Waiting outside the hut was almost more than Kim could bear, and she could tell the other Ranger crouched beside her was feeling the same, but reckless haste would help no one. She drew her sword in readiness, gently so as not to rasp metal on metal, and settled back in the shadows under the low eaves of the hut. The waiting was agony, but then Kim heard the sound she had been listening for, the out-of-season chirp of a straw weevil.

She answered in kind and started counting silently. Eight years' experience in the Rangers carried her forward, silent, sure-footed and deadly, moving until she was less than a meter behind the sentry. All the time the numbers kept running in her head; on sixteen, her feet reached position; on nineteen, her hand tightened on the sword's hilt; on twenty, she launched herself forward, her left arm swinging around the Guard's throat to strangle any cry, and her other hand driving the short Ranger's sword up through the woman's body. She did not need to look to know that at the other side of the doorway, Sergeant O'Neil would similarly have dispatched the second sentry.

The bodies were dragged off into the dark. The golden helmets and red cloaks were stripped from the dead Guards, and within seconds, another pair of sentries stood at the door of the hut. It was not much of a disguise, but would be quite adequate for the dark night, particularly with the expected confusion ahead.

Flickering firelight escaped through the crack under the closed door. Kim dared not open it to see exactly what was happening, or how many Guards were there. Instead, her attention focused on listening, hoping for answers. Someone else was talking. Not a prisoner from the absence of fear in the voice, although the speaker was not completely at ease either.

"Excuse me, ma'am, it is late. And too much...disturbance might wake people."

"Maybe," Rozek conceded. "And perhaps a few hours to think things through might be useful for our prisoners. I'm sure I have given them a lot to think about."

Kim's stomach churned. Despite the dispassionate tone and earlier denial, Kim had no doubts that Rozek was enjoying every second. The urge to burst in and silence the sadistic voice was overwhelming, but it was wisest to wait until there was enough disruption in the camp to cover any calls for help. And surely it would not be long before the disruption started?

Kim looked in the direction of the barns. At that moment, a shower of sparks erupted into the night sky, followed by the glow of flames, growing stronger. For a full minute the fire grew, and then came the first shouts. The figures of Guards began to emerge from a dozen doorways, half stumbling and half awake, staring in confusion at the blossoming fire that was engulfing their stores. Kim and O'Neil kept to the blackest shadows, a little back from the doorway, but no one was looking in their direction. Already some of the more astute officers were starting to shout orders, calling every available Guard to help fight the raging fires. The two disguised Rangers remained at their posts, standing as still as stone. They were completely ignored as the center of the hubbub moved away from the village square.

Rozek had been talking quietly to a colleague. Now her voice snapped out, "What's all that?"

Kim kept silent on the chance that Rozek might recognize her voice and left it to O'Neil to call out, "Excuse me, ma'am. The stores are on fire."

"What! Why didn't you say before? You three...go and help."

The door of the hut opened, letting light spill across the ground. Three Guards raced out and disappeared into the darkness at the other side of the square. None of them paid the slightest attention to the two bogus sentries or seemed to notice that they did not follow.

At least one other Guard remained in the hut with Rozek. A voice asked, "Shouldn't we go as well, ma'am?"

"Yes, in a minute." Rozek was clearly torn between her duty as commanding officer and her sport with the heretics. And although her responsibilities had to come first, still she could not resist one last bout of intimidation before she left her victims. "We will be back in the morning. And be quite sure I am not just making idle threats. Your daughter will receive exactly the same attention your mother has had unless you answer my question, and it is a simple enough one. Where have the traitors and heretics gone?"

"Well, some of us are here."

The time of waiting was over. Kim stepped into the hut, her sword drawn and still red with the blood of the sentry. Her eyes scanned the inside of the hut, quickly noting the position of the prisoners at one side and the absence of any enemies apart from Rozek and one other officer. She faced the two Guards. Rozek's expression of stunned shock was everything Kim could have wished for. More unexpectedly, the second officer's face showed an emotion more like relief. This woman moved first, eagerly stripping off her sword belt and throwing it down in a gesture of surrender.

Rozek's eyes were fixed on Kim. "Ramon! I'd thought I-"

"I know. You thought you'd killed me." Kim finished the sentence for her and shrugged. "It was an easy mistake to make. I thought I'd drop by and set you straight. I've also got a message for you to pass on to the Chief Consultant. She doesn't own these mountains. We do. Our chosen leader is Gina Renamed, and any women who come into our lands without her permission do so at risk of their lives. Now we're going to take our friends and leave, but my advice to you is to pack up what's left of your things at first light tomorrow, return to the Sisters' land, and stay there."

The other three Rangers had entered the hut behind Kim. Rozek's eyes lit up at the sight of the red cloaks, only to fade again when she saw the gray and green uniforms underneath. Yet still she found the composure to quote, "Do not let your feet stray from the path of the Goddess, for all who stand against her laws will die, and their lives shall be offered as tribute by the swords of the righteous."

"Do you want to try to demonstrate this?" Kim asked, pointing at Rozek's sword with her own.

Despite her arrogant disdain, Rozek clearly realized she was outnumbered, particularly with her comrade's instant surrender. She treated the Rangers to an arrogant sneer but had no option other than to remove her belt and toss her sword to lie with the other one on the ground.

"Tie them both," Kim ordered, then turned to look at the family of heretics in more detail, and froze.

As she had seen from the hilltop, there were six of them. The oldest was a woman who must be over fifty; the youngest was a girl of about seven. The other four appeared to be scattered through their twenties. All were bound, including the child, and none looked as if they fully understood that a rescue had arrived. The child's eyes were wide in rigid panic; the younger women's were tear-stained and filled with the dead weight of horror. The oldest was the only one who was gagged. She was also the only one naked from the waist up, which revealed a body crisscrossed and bleeding with the livid marks of burns. In confusion, Kim's eyes searched the hut, not that the source took much finding. Despite the summer heat, a fire was burning in the central hearth, and in it lay an iron poker.

For a dozen heartbeats, Kim stared at it with disbelief. Even in her words to O'Neil, she had not quite believed the depths Rozek could plumb. Then in two steps, Kim had crossed the hut to where the major sat, her hands and legs already bound. The point of Kim's sword flew to Rozek's throat, drawing one small, round drop of blood, but Kim's arm locked. She looked into Rozek's eyes and saw fear and anger and religious certainty, and not a trace of guilt. Kim's hand on the sword hilt pressed forward a little and the drop of blood became a trickle, but she was shaking and could not strike.

"I shouldn't have given you the chance to surrender. I should have cut you down where you stood," Kim said, and it was true.

"That would have been closer to the sort of behavior I would expect from you."

"The sort of behavior you expect from me?" Kim was incredulous at Rozek's self-righteous tone. "The sort of behavior like torturing old women and children?"

"For her glory, the faithful shall not question the acts they must do in her name."

The quote was more than Kim could stomach. She pulled back her sword and swung it down hard upon Rozek, hitting her across the face with the hilt. But that was as far as she could go. The world without Rozek would be a better place, and it was not fair that ordinary Guards lay dead outside while Rozek still lived, but Kim could not kill an unarmed woman, and certainly not one who was bound and helpless at her feet. As Rozek keeled over, the other Guard officer looked away, with a shame that was manifest. Small wonder that she had been so quick to surrender.

Freeing the heretics did not take long. Kim stepped to the door and peered out. The flames from the stores were, if anything, higher than before, and the square was deserted. She shook her head. Surely by now someone should have realized that the fire was deliberate and possibly a distraction. However, the Guards' inexperience was largely what the plan relied on. Kim spoke quickly, giving the last necessary instructions, and then the group filed out of the hut, with two Rangers carrying the older woman.

With the exception of the rumpus by the stores, the return journey was identical to the way in. No one saw them, no one stopped them, and soon they were beyond the boundaries of the encampment and reunited with the successful team of fire lighters. But the evening's plans were not quite finished. As they began to move away to the final rendezvous, a fresh commotion began in the distant corner of the village where the horses were stabled.

At first, a few neighs rang out, followed by wild shouts and yells, and then the rumble of pounding hooves in a frantic stampede. After several minutes of increasing chaos, the sounds faded into the distance on the far side of the village. The ploy was intended to steer any unoccupied Guards away from the women escaping on foot. It would also serve two further ends. Some horses would undoubtedly be recaptured, most would end up supplementing the resources at Westernfort, and in addition to Sergeant O'Neil's prediction of a long, hungry journey home, the Guards would be going on foot.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR- THE WORDS OF THE GODDESS

ust after dawn the next day, Kim joined the two Rangers posted

as lookouts on a hilltop with a clear view over the village and examined the results of the raid. With the exception of three burned-out huts, the scene looked much the same as the day before, but the manner of the Guards had changed. Even from a distance, Kim could tell the swagger was gone from their walk and the razor-sharp edge of their discipline was blunted. Double the number of sentries guarded the perimeter, but they now seemed twitchy, as if they were no longer devoting their entire attention to standing still, and instead were wondering what was behind them. The horse paddock also looked different; a bare quarter of the animals remained. Much activity was centered around Rozek's hut; officers were arriving and messengers were departing by the minute.

"What do you think Rozek will do?" one of the Rangers asked conversationally.

"If she has any sense, she'll recover as much as she can from the remains of her stores and head back to the Sisters' homelands, but..." Kim let her sentence trail away.

"When did you hear of a Guard officer with any sense?" the Ranger finished.

"Well, Rozek is a lot more intelligent than some, but I'm not sure if she is any wiser."

"We'll take it from you that there's a distinction."

Kim grinned and continued studying the village. She felt under no pressure to commit the Rangers to any further action. Common sense said to wait until she was sure of Rozek's intentions, and a rest would do everyone good. Although a sensible idea might be to have the family of heretics sent on to Westernfort and safely out of harm's way. As long as the oldest one was in a fit state to travel. Finding out the condition of the elderly woman was Kim's next priority. She left the hilltop with the promise to send more Rangers to relieve the lookouts in an hour, and headed back through the wooded hillside.

The Rangers' camp was pitched on the far side of the hill from the village. Kim got a fair degree of amusement from knowing that Rozek had no idea how close at hand they were. With the Guards' total inexperience in the ways of the wild, the greatest danger of discovery lay in being stumbled on by accident, and Kim felt far safer knowing exactly where Rozek's troops were and what they were doing.

Back at the camp, high spirits from the success of the raid were in evidence, but the laughter and horseplay were not enough to compromise the defensive order. The sentries were all at their posts and alert, notwithstanding the broad smiles. Only in the corner by the heretics was the mood more somber. The faces were haunted by memories of the previous day. Yet they seemed resilient, strong-minded people. They would get over it eventually, and already the girl was starting to edge toward the Rangers in typical childish curiosity.

Kim knelt by where the elderly heretic lay in healing sleep, induced by Carma, who was also there, sitting cross-legged by her patient.

"How is she?" Kim asked.

"As well as can be expected." The normally light-hearted Ranger spoke in a voice that was uncharacteristically cold and grim.

"Will she be fit to travel today?"

"If we can rig a horse litter for her."

"Okay." Kim patted Carma on the shoulder. "See to it. I want you to escort the family back to Westernfort. I'll send someone else with you. Gina and Lieutenant Coppelli will appreciate the report if you get home before the rest of us."

Carma nodded and Kim rose, but as she was about to go, one of the other heretics moved in front of her.

"You should have killed Rozek." The woman's voice was ragged with hatred; the raw depths of it brought Kim to a stop. She could find no words in answer. Any assertion about not sinking to Rozek's level would have sounded trite and weak.

Carma looked up from her position on the ground, with eyes that were as hard as her voice. "I don't mean it as a criticism, ma'am, but I think she's right."

Kim averted her face and looked down at the elderly woman lying wrapped in bandages. Once again, she relived the scene that had greeted her inside the hut and remembered Rozek's arrogant self-justification. Despite her words to Lynn about the futility of revenge, Kim found herself worryingly close to agreeing.

In early afternoon, not long after Carma and the family had left, word came from the Rangers on lookout that things were happening in the village. Kim trotted back up through the trees to see for herself.

"What's the situation?" she asked as she reached the hilltop.

"From what we could tell, most of them spent the morning in prayers. Then they broke for lunch. Now they seem to be a bit more focused in their activities. Nothing definite, but we thought you might like to see," one of the Rangers answered.

"Right. Thanks."

It was obvious that the lookouts were right. Rozek's troops were moving with an objective in mind, and before long two distinct groups had formed. The Guards in the larger section were collecting their gear and as much in the way of provisions as was available, and starting to muster on the eastern side of the village. Kim hoped she was not being overly optimistic in thinking that they were preparing themselves for the long walk back to the Sisters' Homelands.

The intentions of the other group of Guards were harder to be sure of. They had also gathered their possessions and were now assembled close by the remaining horses. Clearly, they were the ones selected to ride. But where? An officer was haranguing them. Kim was fairly certain it was Rozek, and she was also fairly certain that retreat was not the subject of the talk. Rozek did not appear to have quite given up yet; maybe she could not. To return twice with nothing to report but defeat and dead Guards might be a permanent block on her career.

Within the hour, both groups of Guards had completed their preparations and made their departure from the village. Those on foot marched away due east in the direction of Landfall. The others with their horses set off southwest, but not all were riding. A few fanned out wide at the front and walked with their eyes fixed on the ground, leading their mounts behind them. These women were the ones that puzzled Kim for a few seconds before understanding hit her. The Guards were searching for the hoof marks of the stolen horses from the night before.

The same conclusion had occurred to the other Rangers. "Oh, look at that. Bless their little woolly vests. They're trying to track us, hoping we'll lead them to Westernfort."

"Who says Guards have no imagination," the other Ranger agreed, laughing.

Kim also smiled. "Then we ought to give them a track to follow." She paused for a moment, thinking. "But we'd better not make it too difficult."

Three days later, the chase was still in progress, pulling Rozek and her Guards far away from the route to Westernfort. Not that it had been easy, even with the herd of stolen horses to make a clear trail. On the first night, Rozek had kept going well after the light had failed and had consequently gotten lost. On another occasion, a roving herd of fenbucks had obliterated the Rangers' trail before the Guards reached it. Kim was reduced to more and more blatant tricks to keep the Guards tagging along. So far it had worked, but soon Rozek must realize she was being played with. Or was she too arrogant or too desperate to even consider the idea, and perhaps it was time to enlighten her?

Noon was approaching as the Rangers drove the herd of horses along a gorge-like valley. After the long, dust-dry summer, only a thin trickle of water flowed at the bottom, but in a few weeks' time, when the heavy autumn rains began, the gorge would hold a substantial torrent. As she rode along, Kim studied her surroundings. The seasonal floods meant the floor of the gully was devoid of trees and bore only the plants that had grown from seed during the summer months. These scarcely came to the hocks of the horses. The lower walls of the gorge on either side were sheer and unscaleable on horseback. Even a woman climbing would find them a challenge. The bare rock faces were washed clean of plants, but ten meters up, overhanging the top of the gorge, was a thick covering of bushy, shrub-like trees, ideal for shielding archers.

Sergeant O'Neil was riding beside Kim and noticed the direction of her eyes. "You're thinking it has potential for an ambush?"

"I was actually one step on from that. I'd gotten as far as wondering whether Rozek would be stupid enough to ride down here, knowing that we're ahead of her," Kim replied thoughtfully.

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

O'Neil grinned. "My money says it wouldn't even occur to her that there was a risk involved."

After another kilometer, the sides of the gorge crumbled away and they emerged into a far broader valley. Despite the drought, a respectable river was still flowing down the middle, although the water level was low and easy to ford.

Kim turned around to take a last look down the gorge, then stood in her stirrups and shouted, "Okay! We'll take an hour's break for the horses. After that, we're going to change the game a bit. So if you all gather round, I'll tell you what we're going to play next."

Such gear as was necessary was made ready, and the Rangers set off again. At first, there was no change to the routine of the previous three days, but midway across the river, the Rangers divided. Three carried on, driving the riderless horses ahead of them while the rest followed Kim, riding upstream and keeping to shallow water. It would take vastly better trackers than the Guards to notice that fewer horses had left the river than entered, even if the planned ambush failed and Rozek's troops managed to escape from the gorge.

After a hundred meters, the Rangers returned to the bank and continued to ride along the valley until a bend took them out of sight of anyone following the trail of the stolen horses. They dismounted in the shelter of a straggling grove of young trees and secured their horses' reins to prevent them from straying. Then the Rangers climbed the hillside on foot and began to double back through the dense undergrowth, taking a route that eventually brought them out above the gorge, half a kilometer from its end.

Finally there was the long wait, a chance to find good locations among the trees, to check bowstrings and arrows, to finalize contingency plans, should things go wrong, and then to wonder whether Rozek had gotten lost again. But at last Kim heard the dull clopping of horses coming toward them down the barren gorge. In a second, all fidgeting and talking had ceased, the last few bows were strung, and quivers laid to hand.

The first of the riders came into view with Rozek in the lead. A double column followed her. Fifty-three Guards against a dozen Rangers. The corner of Kim's mouth twitched in a wry smile; the odds were not bad at all. She certainly would not have been happy to change places with Rozek, and not just because the major was about to be on the receiving end of an ambush. The Guards' morale was poor. They were obviously tired and dispirited. Many rode with their heads down. Maybe they suspected Rozek was leading them into danger. Only the most conceited could be unaware that they were totally outclassed against the Rangers in the wilderness. One or two were even looking anxiously at the overgrown top of the gorge, as if working out for themselves the opportunity it presented. One good prod and they'll run, Kim told herself.

Her eyes returned to Rozek, all previous qualms gone. The Guard major was unbound and armed, riding at the head of troops with hostile intent. Furthermore, a warning had been given, and she had chosen to ignore it. All of which, in Kim's mind, made Rozek a very fair target.

Chip's partner, Katryn, stood ready by Kim's side. She was far and away the best marksman in the squadron. Tempting though the thought was of being the one to kill Rozek, Kim did not want to risk letting the major get away. At her signal, Katryn pulled an arrow from her quiver and knocked it on the string of her bow. The line of Guards was getting closer, less than fifty meters from the ambush. Katryn pulled back, anchoring her hand under her chin and touching lips and nose to the string. She took time to set her aim straight for Rozek's heart. When the major was less than twenty meters away, Katryn loosed the arrow. Kim watched it fly straight and true to its target.

Rozek jolted back in the saddle, her arms flying wide, with the shaft of the arrow embedded in her chest. Then she pitched forward, slumping motionless over her horse's neck. Shouts rose from the Guards behind, making the startled beast skitter to one side and then break into a canter. Rozek was still on its back, but as it ran below her, Kim could see streams of blood running down the withers of the horse.

The shouts from the Guards became louder, spreading back along the column, and now they were joined by the sound of arrows whistling through the air as other Rangers began to shoot. For the space of a few seconds, the Guards appeared to be too surprised to know what to do, whether to go forward or back. A few reached for their own bows. The frantic, confused milling meant the Guards were no longer such clear targets, but arrows still found their mark. One officer made as if to set off after Rozek, but she spun about as she was hit in the shoulder, then another Guard took an arrow in the thigh. A third and fourth were injured, although they also managed to stay clinging to their saddles.

At the back of the line, Guards were starting to turn around. A junior officer called the retreat, her voice shading into panic. Then another woman was hit more seriously, knocking her from the saddle, and the retreat became a rout. The Guards spurred their horses and raced back up the valley trying to outrun the arrows, but two who were braver than the rest went to their fallen comrade's aid. They jumped to the ground, picked up the injured woman and literally tossed her over her horse, then scrambled back into their saddles and chased after the other soldiers in red and gold. However, the flight of arrows had already stopped. Regardless of how easy a target the two rescuers were, Kim had not shot at them, and neither had anyone else.

After the last Guard had disappeared from view, the Rangers hurried back to their horses. Kim picked out O'Neil and another experienced, levelheaded woman and said, "Without Rozek to lead them, I'm pretty sure the Guards won't stop running until they get back to Landfall, but I don't want to be caught out. Follow them until you are absolutely certain they're leaving the mountains. If anything unexpected happens in what's left of today, you can report to me at tonight's rendezvous. Otherwise send word straight to Westernfort."

"Yes, ma'am." Even before Kim had finished speaking, the selected Rangers were on their way to their horses and off after the fleeing Guards.

Another four Rangers were dispatched to retrieve any spent arrows they could find. Kim turned to the rest. "Right. Once they get back from the gorge, we can catch up with the horses. While we're waiting, I'll go and collect Rozek's horse and gear."

"Should I come too?" a Ranger volunteered.

"I think I'll be okay. I trust Katryn's aim. She sent the arrow through Rozek's heart-"

"Assuming she had one," someone interjected.

Kim grinned. "If I'm not back in an hour, you'll know her ghost got me."

As she collected her own horse and rode off, Kim was well aware of why she did not want company when she found Rozek's body. She had quite a few things that she wanted to say to the dead major, most of which she did not want overheard. The temptation to gloat in an unseemly fashion might be irresistible.

A line of blood was splattered on the ground at the point where the gorge met the larger valley. Kim followed the trail downstream for another kilometer as it wound in an erratic route and eventually linked with a deer track, climbing the side of the valley. After a short but steep ascent, the path leveled out on a boulder-strewn plateau. On one side stood a crumbling outcrop of rock. On the other was a sharp drop down to the river. Rozek's horse was standing close by the edge, but there was no sign of Rozek's body. Presumably, she had finally slipped from her horse and tumbled over the side.

Kim dismounted and went to peer down the steep, scree-covered slope. The red and gold of Rozek's uniform should have shown up like a flag, but nothing caught her eye, and suddenly Kim's trained instincts snapped in. The certainty that something was very wrong. She spun about, ready to run back to her horse and summon the rest of the Rangers, and found herself staring at a drawn bow with the arrowhead pointing straight at her.

Rozek had been crouching well back from the edge, hidden between the cracked boulders of the outcrop when Kim arrived. Now the major stepped out into the open. Her face was pale, her eyes were slightly glazed, and the red of her uniform was stained a duller crimson with her blood, but she was most definitely alive.

For the space of several heartbeats, they stood staring silently at each other, and then Rozek's lips twisted into a sneer. "I know. You thought you'd killed me. And what did you say next? Oh, yes. An easy mistake to make."

Rozek was swaying, clearly light-headed from the loss of blood. Her aim would not be good, but it did not need to be. A scant five meters separated her from Kim.

She continued speaking. "The words of the Goddess shall be as a shield to the faithful. Do you recognize the quote? They are good words, words every Guard should carry close to her heart." Rozek smiled. "I do. I always have. I carry a little copy of the book in my breast pocket. That was what your faithless arrow hit. The words of the Goddess really were a shield to me, but of course you don't believe the words, do you?"

Kim met Rozek's eyes and said, "I know that whatever truth there is in them is corrupted by your mouth."

"The corruption is only in you." Rozek was breathing heavily. The thickness of the book had not protected her fully, but it had been enough to save her from death. The arrow wound was not a minor scratch, yet neither was it fatal.

Luck pays no heed of justice, Kim told herself, but at least she would have her chance to address her words to the living woman. "No, Rozek. You are the corrupt one. You use your religion to justify your own evil. I'll bet you went through the book of the Elder-Ones just to pick out suitable quotes-anything to make it sound as if you were following the will of the Goddess rather than your own sordid desire to inflict pain on others. You use divinity to excuse inhumanity, but I have not the slightest doubt if Celaeno were here to choose between us, that she would be as sickened by you as I am."

Rozek only smiled and said, "Well, I'm going to give you the chance in the very near future to stand before Celaeno and put it to the test. So take off your sword and throw it over here."

Staring into Rozek's eyes, Kim knew herself to be a poor beginner when it came to gloating. Rozek intended to kill her but wanted to drag things out. Rozek did not have the faintest chance of holding Kim prisoner once the other Rangers discovered what had happened. Kim knew it and knew that Rozek knew it. Asking for her sword, rather than shooting her immediately, was part of the game. Its only possible purpose was to give Rozek the option of inflicting a slower death than an arrow through the heart, but it was not an option Kim was prepared to grant.

"I said take off your sword," Rozek snapped again, but her hands were shaking from the effort of holding the bow at full stretch. Soon she would be forced to loose the arrow.

Kim's hands moved to the buckle of her belt as her eyes judged distances. Despite the unsteadiness of Rozek's hands, the arrow would have too short a flight to hope it might miss a stationary target, yet Kim was going to have to take her chance. She held out her sword as if about to toss it down, but in the action of throwing, her hand grasped the hilt, shaking it with a whip-like action to free the sword from the scabbard, while at the same time hurling herself sideways. Kim heard the twang of the bowstring, the hiss of the arrow, and felt a sudden burning in her arm, but like Rozek's wound, it was far from fatal.

Kim's dive kept her moving. She hit the ground in a roll, triggering another explosion of pain in her arm, but then she was up on her feet and charging forward, sword in hand. Rozek had no time to string another arrow. The major tore her own sword free and leaped forward to meet Kim. The long, slashing Guard's sword against the short, stabbing blade of a Ranger.

The first clash of weapons was nearly the last. Kim blocked Rozek's stroke easily, but fire shot from her shoulder to her fingers. The hilt was almost wrenched from her weakened grasp as Kim managed somehow to parry the blow. She glanced down and saw the broken shaft of the arrow protruding from her arm. Adrenaline could only go so far in dulling the pain, and her sleeve was already soaked with blood. Soon it would trickle as far as her palm, making the hilt slippery. Kim jumped back from Rozek's second swipe and quickly transferred the sword to her other hand, her face set in a wry grimace; with Rozek half-dazed and Kim left-handed, this was not going to be a classic, elegant duel.

However, Rozek had the worst of the problems. Already fresh blood was staining her tunic as her wound broke open again, but she seemed unaware, and launched into a frenzy of slashes. Kim blocked them all easily, even left-handed, and a grim smile touched her lips. Signaling strikes so much in advance meant the effort was wasted on Rozek's part. It was energy she could not afford to squander and sped the loss of blood. The wild swings achieved little more than enhancing the greater length of Rozek's sword in keeping Kim at a distance and preventing her from closing for a thrust. Then suddenly, Rozek shifted to a sharper jab, almost catching Kim unawares. Kim frowned. She dared not get complacent, and Rozek had not lost all caution. Her attacks were not so impetuous as to leave her front open. Time was Kim's best ally. Before long, the major would weaken and make the error that would let Kim's sword through.

Rozek's sword flew in yet another sequence of slashes. Again, Kim shifted her balance to block and stumbled as one foot slid on the loose gravel of the scree slope. Kim realized she was on the brink of the drop down to the river. She cursed her own carelessness. How had she gotten so close to the edge? Or was it where Rozek had been driving her?

Rozek seized on the second of lost concentration. Her sword whipped across in a backhand slash. The stroke would take an awkward, cross-body effort to block, so Kim made no attempt. With her poor balance, there was little chance it would succeed. Instead, she half-ducked, half-fell to her knee and let Rozek's sword whistle over her head. Now her opponent was the one with lost balance. Rozek had expected her strike to be blocked, either by sword or by body, but instead her arm shot out wide, swinging her around and leaving her front unguarded. Kim propelled herself up from her crouch, throwing her whole weight into the attack and driving the point of her sword deep into her enemy. This time there was no mistake.

Rozek's expression froze on her face, then slipped from confusion, to surprise, and finally, disbelief that her Goddess had so unexpectedly, yet unmistakably, deserted her. Then her lifeless body tumbled back and crashed to the ground.

CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE- WHEREYOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE

he Rangers returned to Westernfort on a dull, gray evening.

The thick blanket of cloud served to hasten the onset of dusk, and a hint of rain was in the air. The bite of a chill northern wind warned that autumn was fast approaching. Leaves were still green but devoid of any luster. Within days, the first flushes of red would be visible. Fans of migrating birds flew down the valleys.

Kim dismounted and left her horse to the care of the grooms by the paddocks. She would willingly have joined the other Rangers in attending to her own animal, but once it was seen that her arm was in a sling, the reins were taken from her and she was pushed toward the steep path. On the way up to the gates, she paused and looked down on the shuffling herds huddled around their byres and then raised her eyes to the range of mountains at the far side of the valley, indistinct in the gloomy mist. The first drops of a light drizzle began to fall, but despite the weather, Kim felt perfectly at peace. The cold and damp only increased her contentment at the thought of a welcoming fire, a hot meal, a warm bed, and Lynn.

At the top of the climb, the path passed through the gates. Kim turned her back on the low-lying plain and paused for a moment to study the scene in front of her, from the protective ring of mountains to the neat farmlands. The fields were mainly stubble now that most of the crops were in, and the village was tranquil at the close of day. Trails of sweet wood smoke drifted from the huts. Posts marked out the foundations for more permanent buildings; work would be starting soon, now that everyone was released from the harvest and the threat of invasion. The vision of how the village would look in ten years' time rose in Kim's mind, and her expression became mesmerized. For the first time, she fully understood what it would mean to her, that Westernfort was not just another posting, it was for the rest of her life.

Kim shook her head, a little bemused by her own reaction, and began walking again. Word of the Rangers' return had spread and a few folk appeared from the huts, shouting a welcome. Kim's pace increased slightly. Then, running up the path toward her, came Lynn, and all the rest of the valley ceased to exist in Kim's eyes. She caught Lynn in a one-armed hug, and winced as Lynn grabbed her other arm before noticing the sling.

"Are you all right?" Lynn said with alarm.

"I'm fine."

"But your arm?"

"I was stupid enough to stand in the way of an arrow. I didn't-" Kim tried to joke, but the fear on Lynn's face caught the words in her throat. Now she had someone else whom she must answer to when taking risks. More soberly, she continued, "But I'm safe. And I'm home now."

The stories could wait until later, and the affectionate recriminations that would follow. She looked into Lynn's eyes and felt her life, her soul, her heart defined there. Home. That was the important word. For the first time since she was fourteen, Kim knew she had come home.

The next day was spent in resting and retelling the story of the encounter with the Guards. By midafternoon, the clouds cleared and the mellow sunshine encouraged something like a party in the main square, with Lynn's singing talents called on frequently to the accompaniment of pipes. Even the odd flagon of beer made its appearance. Celebrating the death of the Guards did not seem right, with the possible exception of Rozek, yet neither was it a time to be totally serious. As sunset drew near, the temperature began to drop sharply. The night was not one for gossiping under the stars, and the eldest folk began to move indoors in search of the warmth of the hearthside.

Kim stood by the entrance to the stone house. Despite her original rejection of the honor, she now found herself living there, sharing Lynn's room. Gina was beside her, and the pair was trying to second-guess the Chief Consultant's next move.

"She won't be eager to send Guards against us again, but it doesn't look as if she trusts Rangers," Kim said.

"She won't leave us alone. She'll just keep upping the numbers." Gina's voice was gloomy.

"You think we won't be able to fight them off?"

Gina's face was solemn. "It may sound strange, but I'm frightened that we will. This world hasn't seen war yet, but the old world knew it only too well. I wish the Chief Consultant would go and read some of the books in her library. She could start where I did, with the Franco-Prussian war. It might scare her enough to start thinking. But she won't either read or think. She's too certain she has the Goddess in her pocket." Gina sighed. "I honestly never intended things to work out this way. All I wanted was the truth, but now I'm not sure if all the truth in the universe is worth one woman's life."

"Better to live in ignorance than die in wisdom?"

"Maybe. But we no longer have that option. The choice is down to our lives or theirs. It almost makes me wish I believed in the Goddess."

"Why?"

"Because then I'd have someone to pray to. I'm frightened that the Chief Consultant and I have set this world on the road to Hiroshima."

"What's at-" Kim began, but she was interrupted by Lynn, who had finally finished singing and had come to join them. Kim smiled and put her good arm around her lover, hugging her close.

"You look like you're having a painful conversation," Lynn said.

"We were thinking about the Chief Consultant."

"Oh well. If it's any consolation, I'll bet she looks even more miserable when she thinks about you two." Lynn looked thoughtful before adding, "And me."

Before anything more could be said, a fourth woman approached. She was a member of the rescued family of heretics. The condition of the oldest one had slowed them down, so that they had only arrived at Westernfort a few hours before the rest of the Rangers, and they had not had a chance to settle in properly.

Lynn, in the role of healer, had visited the elderly woman and learned her name was Nedda. The rest of the family consisted of her two daughters plus their partners. The young girl was Nedda's granddaughter, the child of the older couple. The woman who now approached was the younger of Nedda's daughters. When Lynn had been introduced before, she had seemed friendly, but now her manner was very hesitant, to the point of teetering on flight, and over her shoulder, Lynn could see her partner hanging in the rear. Lynn smiled in an encouraging fashion, although it did not seem to help the woman's awkwardness.

"Excuse me, ma'am..." the young heretic began uncertainly, her eyes darting between Lynn and Kim.

Lynn looked at the woman, confused. "Is it me you want, or the captain?"

"Er...you, ma'am."

"Oh, well. There's no need to call me ma'am. Kim neither, come to that, unless you desperately want to apply for the Rangers."

"Oh. Well, um..." The woman was inexplicably nervous. "Well. We've been told you're an Imprinter."

"Ah." Lynn suddenly understood where the conversation was going and was hit by an attack of her own anxiety. "I was. But I don't know whether I still am."

"Was...?"

"I'm no longer a virgin." Lynn indicated Kim's arm around her, and despite her unease, had to fight to keep the grin off her face. If it could possibly have been in doubt before, it definitely was not after celebrating Kim's return the previous night. "The Sisters would tell you my powers will be gone, but I've not had the chance to put it to the test yet." She bit her lip. "I take it you're not asking out of idle curiosity?"

The other young woman had come to stand beside her partner. "No. We were saving up for the imprinting fees. We nearly had enough, and then we were denounced and had to run and...we've brought what money we had with us, and it's yours if-"

"No," Lynn cut in abruptly. "If I can imprint, then I will do it for free. Anyway, there isn't much around here to spend money on."

"So...?"

Lynn was aware of both Kim and Gina watching her intently. She raised her chin and said, "No one here puts much faith in the Sisters' teachings, but maybe there is a reason for what they say about celibacy and imprinting. However, if you want, I will try for you tomorrow."

Lynn was sitting alone in the common room of the stone house, staring into the cold fireplace, when Gina came to get her.

"Are you nervous?" Gina asked, seeing Lynn's sober expression.

"Not really."

"Thoughtful?"

Lynn pursed her lips and then nodded. "Yes."

"What are you thinking?"

"About being where you're supposed to be."

"Surely not in the temple?"

"Oh no. I never wanted to be there, never felt I belonged, despite what the Sisters said."

"And you feel you belong with Kim?"

Lynn smiled. "More than I've ever belonged anywhere else in my life. But I've changed so much. I'd loved Kim for ages, yet I hadn't realized that making love to her would cause me to feel so differently about..."

"About?"

"Everything. Some mornings I wake up and don't feel like the same person anymore."

"Do you think it's likely that you can't imprint?"

"I don't think so. I won't know for certain until I try, but it doesn't feel as if any of the healer sense has left me." Despite her words, Lynn looked troubled.

Gina studied her face for a while. "I was expecting you to be suffering from a recurrence of the doubts you had the first time you were called on to imprint in Westernfort."

Lynn shook her head. "Not really."

"But there's something else bouncing around at the back of your mind. I can see it on your face."

"It's..." Lynn frowned as she searched for words. "Despite being outside the temple, and you making me doubt everything about Celaeno and Himoti, I've never felt so spiritually complete in my life. And I was wondering, even if Celaeno didn't make the universe, perhaps there was a Goddess who did, who worked through Celaeno and the people who built her. Perhaps we were supposed to come here."

"I think you're playing with an extremely vague hypothesis with no useful or practical implications, and I'm a little uncertain of why you would want to bother."

"It's just, at the moment, I feel I need someone to give thanks to. If there isn't a Goddess, then there ought to be. I know you told me to follow my heart..." Lynn paused for a second. "And from the depths of my heart, I cannot keep from giving praise for life. It would be nice if someone was out there to listen."

Gina laughed. "Then I think you'll do all right."

The weather outside was bright and mild for the season. Sunshine from the previous afternoon had returned, burning off the last of the morning chill. The snow-covered peaks were crystal sharp against the blue sky, and the wind carried the soft scents of autumn. As had become customary, the entire village had gathered to watch. They stood subdued around the edge of the square, waiting for the leader of the heretics to escort the Imprinter out of the stone house. The thought occurred to Lynn that they had renounced the ceremonies of the temple only to start creating their own. In another two generations, she could see heretic-style imprinting getting as bound in ritual as anything the Sisters practiced.

The two young women were standing a little apart from the rest, looking hopefully toward the door of the stone house. Lynn walked over, took their hands, and led them out into the center of the square. She went through the limited necessary instructions and then the three of them sat down. A hush fell over the assembled crowd.

Lynn began to slip into the imprinting trance, but she was distracted as the two young women glanced across to meet each other's eyes. This time, Lynn did not resist the temptation to copy their action. She looked up and saw Kim in the crowd directly in front of her. Their eyes met also, and then without Lynn's conscious effort, the imprinting trance swept over her, but not like ever before. She was taken not inward, but outward.

She was surrounded by the world. The sense of it burst in upon her, soaking in through every pore. More solid, more unstoppable, more intense than ever before, from the ground underneath her to the arch of blue sky over her head. The mountains and the grass. The heartbeat of the world. Lynn felt herself caught up by the ecstasy of life. She could feel it, taste it, and smell it in every strand of her being. The two women whose hands she held were brilliant tapestries of dreams, spun on a double helix. The sight of the village square faded from her mind, but the image of blue sky seeped in, with the strength of mountains, the fresh scent of fir trees, and the wonder of Kim's love. Lynn knew with absolute certainty she had found her true place in the world Celaeno chose for her. She was where she was meant to be.

APPENDIX

EXTRACTS FROM PETER MCKAY 'SDIARY

15-May-2254: Ellen and I boarded the Celaeno today at 20:00 GMT. The shuttle ride up was pretty routine, including the twenty-minute delay on takeoff. As we got close to the ships, everyone rushed to get a good look at the seven of them floating against the backdrop of stars. It's an image I'll carry with me always. The colony ships are enormous. Nothing really prepared me for the scale of them. The closer we got the bigger they became. And to see them just floating in space. You can't put the effect into words. So many dreams are bound up with the ships, but I wasn't the only one to spare a glance back at the Earth and choke a little. How long before we'll see her again? But it's too late now to change our minds.

We've both been put on the Celaeno with the life scientists. A last-minute adjustment from UNSA, we only found out last night. Originally I'd been allocated a place on the Taygete with the other geologists and the terra-forming equipment, but the agency must have made one of its intermittent attempts to keep couples together, and there was a big swap around. A nice gesture, even though we'll be asleep for the whole journey.

I said the ships were big, but you'd never think it once we were inside. To call the passenger area cramped is to strain the meaning of the word, although of course, it isn't intended to provide living quarters. Ellen and I were some of the last to board. Most of the SA chambers are already occupied, and we'll be put under very shortly. There's certainly nothing on the ship to stay awake for, except the view.

An announcement has just gone out saying there's some delay in putting us into the SA chambers. I could have done without the wait, and not just because of the lack of space. I must admit I'm uneasy with the idea. Ellen keeps assuring me that suspended animation is safe, and biology is her field, not mine, but I'd still rather get it over and done with.

I spent a long while looking down on Earth, thinking about Mom and Dad down there. It's a shame they won't get to see their grandchildren while they are babies, but I know they understand what getting the place on the colony ship meant to Ellen and me. If all goes well, we'll be able to come back for a visit in a dozen years or so.

16-May-2254: We've just watched the Maia and Alcyone slip into X-space. Amazing to watch something so large just ripple and disappear. I'm pleased I saw it. It's been the one benefit from the delay on the SA chambers, but at last they seem to have sorted out the problem and are starting to put people under. Ellen and I are due to go within the hour. I suppose a second benefit is that, after having tried to get a couple of hours' sleep on a chair in the observation lounge, I'm now almost looking forward to being put under.

After giving up on trying to sleep, I spent some time searching the ship's data files for Greek mythology, trying to work out if there's any significance in the allocation of engineering discipline to goddess: Celaeno with biology, Taygete with geology, and so on, but I guess not. In fact, I'll bet that even the names of the Pleiades were only chosen because of the number of ships and someone high up liked the sound of them, nothing to do with mythology, or even destination. Trust the admin at the UN space agency to be strong on romanticism and weak on literature.

Time is a strange thing. When they wake us up, we will be only a few hours older, whereas 18 months will have passed on Earth, and the Celaeno will have spent over 300 years in X-space, traveling on auto systems, though I know that referring to time in X-space is a bit of an anomaly. I've seen the equations the physicists churn out, but the only way I can get my head around it is to think of time going more quickly there. Except it doesn't, since the only way people can survive in X-space is in SA, where time doesn't go at all.

I know this isn't making sense. I'm tired.

That's it. Ellen and I have just been called to the SA chambers. My next entry in this diary will be 18 months in the future and 21.5 light years from here.

??-???-????: I keep rereading the last words I wrote. I feel it's a joke, but I can't work out who is playing it on whom. It hasn't quite sunk in. I'm going to try and write down what's happened. Maybe putting it in words will make it seem more real.

Somehow, the guidance computer malfunctioned. It didn't know when to tell the ship to stop. The systems are so over-engineered that the Celaeno kept plowing on and on through X-space, until at last, one of the mechanisms entered a critical condition and the emergency override snapped in. Although even the definition of emergency is extremely cautious. One of the engineers told me the ship is still good for decades.

Under the emergency procedures, the Celaeno selected the nearest large planetary system, came out of X-space, and woke the crew. And as a final gesture, it sent a distress signal to Earth. But the procedure is based on the assumption that you're more or less where you're supposed to be, that Earth is close enough for a rescue vessel to be with you in months, and that any large planetary system will probably have some sort of installation there already. Whereas, where we are, is god knows where. The best guess I've had from the crew is 3000 light years from Earth.

The distance is hard to grasp, but it's the time that I can't take. While we've been in SA, over 200 years have passed on Earth-or so the crew thinks. We are way beyond normal comms range, and even if the SOS message reaches them, will anyone still be listening for us? And unless there have been some major leaps in technology, it will take further centuries for a rescue to get here.

Ellen's still in SA. I'm writing this sitting on the floor of the gangway beside her chamber. It's cold and the lighting is bad, but I need to be near her. I wish I could talk things over with her. Apparently, the crew woke me as the most senior geologist on board-possibly the only geologist on board. There's going to be a meeting later when they've finished waking the select few. God knows what they are going to say. What options have we got?

1 day after waking: We've had our meeting and time to think things over. Apart from the ship's crew, there are 35 other colonists awake, representing all the available expertise on board. We have three options to consider. One is to park the Celaeno in stable orbit and for us all to go back into SA and hope a rescue gets to us before the systems break down completely. Two is to patch up the ship and try and get back to Earth. The third option is to give up on any hope of ever getting home. The only stroke of luck we've had is that one of the planets in this solar system looks as if it might be habitable. Its mass is 97% of Earth's. It has an oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere and a developed biosphere. In fact, at first glance, it appears a big improvement on the world we were supposed to be colonizing. That's why the crew has woken us up. Before we can make a decision, we have to be certain that this planet is really viable.

It will still be a hard choice. Common sense says that both of the first two options mean putting our faith in machinery way past its planned working life, and we have nothing to go back to Earth for. All our families will be long dead, society and technology will have moved on, our skills will be outdated. But to give up on the rest of the human race is a big, big step to take.

I wish I could talk to Ellen.

40 days after waking: The reports are in, though I feel my own contribution was the next best thing to useless. All the geological survey equipment was on the Taygete, but maybe it made people happier for me to say that I think there are mineable mineral deposits down there. Everything else has confirmed that the planet is habitable.

Now we have to vote. The worst part is making a decision on behalf of all the others, but the living quarters aren't large enough to have more than a fraction of the passengers awake at the same time. I guess most of us must feel the same pressure, but it's worse for me as I'm really a very junior member of the colony team, way down the hierarchy. Unlike Dr. Himoti, who is Principal Geneticist, and gives the impression that she thinks the Celaeno is her own private property.

However, I think the vote is a foregone conclusion. Trying to get back to Earth is a non-starter. With the error on the navigation computer, the engineers aren't even certain which way Earth is. And the same counts against the idea of waiting in SA for rescue. The Celaeno's SOS message was probably focused in the wrong direction, giving absolutely no chance of it being picked up. We'd be gambling on the remote chance of someone stumbling across us by accident before the SA chambers became inoperable, and I can tell no one is keen on the idea. Especially after Douglas told us what would happen if the cryogenic cooling system broke down with us inside.

I've taken to talking to Ellen's SA chamber. Silly, but it helps me adjust my thoughts, like writing this diary. If the vote goes the way I think, we'll be waking the others up soon and ferrying down to the planet. It will be easier to face things with Ellen. Maybe part of the reason for me voting for the planet is that I have to be sure I'm going to see her again.

41 days after waking: It was a unanimous vote in favor of the planet. The site for landfall has been chosen on the main continent in the northern hemisphere, by the banks of a large river. The soil is fertile, and the river will provide good transport. All the resources we could identify are near at hand. The landing site is in lowlands, surrounded by mountains on three sides and the sea to the south. According to the surveys, its climate should be moderate at all times of the year. I've been studying the maps. I managed to restrain myself from showing them to Ellen's SA chamber. She'll be seeing the actual site itself soon.

49 days after waking: Ellen and I have made landfall. Ellen is still a little dazed by the news. I've spent so long talking to her SA chamber, I tend to forget she hasn't had much time to come to terms with things. But for me, after a month and a half on the Celaeno, it's wonderful to stand on green stuff that looks like grass with a blue sky over my head-even though it's cold. It is so nice to be able to stick your arms out straight without clouting somebody else around the ear.

57 days after waking: A third of the crew and colonists are down here. The shuttles are going up and down continuously. The landing site is a mess. We have the facilities to make a first-class genetics lab, yet don't really have the right machinery to build houses. They were on the Alcyone. But I'm sure we'll adapt. The northern hemisphere was chosen as it's mid-spring here at the moment, so we have plenty of time to get sorted before winter.

86 days after waking: Ellen and I have just gotten back from the vote. Even the skeleton crew on the Celaeno came down to take part in person. It was the first time all 2,000 of us had been together. And it was nice to be able to vote just for myself, instead of on behalf of others, particularly with all the implications.

Dr. Himoti formally proposed the motion to try and found a permanent ongoing colony, while Jaminda Uti led the opposition of those who think we should simply make things as comfortable as possible for ourselves, live out the rest of our natural lives, and leave the planet unchanged.

I think Jaminda knew she was arguing a lost cause. Her mood seemed one of frustrated despair, though she had a few good points to make. We don't have the resources to create a high-tech society. The factories and heavy machinery were on the other ships. Maybe Jaminda is simply the best historian, and the rest of us have rose-tinted glasses when it comes to a pre-industrial world. But I'm sure life wouldn't be quite as grim as she painted it. Life expectancy might be shorter than on Earth, but we do have true medical knowledge to pass on to our children, rather than the superstition people relied on in the past. And we ought to be able to reach the technology level of the old Roman Empire at the very least.

Anyway, the outcome of the vote was never in question. We all chose to become colonists because of a dream for the future. None of us could consider becoming a dead end in history. On the way back from the count, Ellen and I started planning names for our first child.

90 days after waking or 08-May-01: The date I've given is a bit of a compromise. I would have liked to have made day one of the new calendar the date of the first landfall, but the general feeling was to backdate the year to start on mid-winter's day. Which means that the colony on this planet officially began on 23-March-01. The days are a bit longer than on earth, a fraction over 25 hours, but there are only 337 days in a year, so the year still works out a touch shorter than on Earth. It has been decided to stick with 12 months, though they'll only have 28 days. The odd day over will be mid-winter's day, hanging about on its own. Then they'll be leap years, exceptions, and so on. Someone has worked it out with the aid of the Celaeno's computers.

For time, we're following the standard UNSA practice of botching a compromise between decimalization and divisions that feel right. There will be 20 hours in a day, 100 minutes in an hour, and 50 seconds in a minute. Frequency counters in the lab equipment will keep to GMT, which gives 45 point something seconds in a new planetary minute. Ellen's threatening to scream if she hears another joke about working long hours.

So far, no one has come up with a generally acceptable name for the planet. I guess our children will just call it the Earth.

19-May-01: Already Ellen is up to her neck in work at the genetics lab. There's enough stored food on the Celaeno to keep us going for years, but eventually we'll have to start producing our own. I've joined Cedric Martin on a project to smelt steel. I just hope I'll be able to recognize iron ore when I see it. It's brought home to me Jaminda's point about taking technology for granted-not that I'd change the way I voted.

27-August-01: Cedric and I got back to Landfall today, from surveying upriver. I brought back some samples that I think contain iron ore. Maybe. Most of the time I'm torn between frustration and amusement. Four years studying geology and I'm reduced to guesswork. I'm re-teaching myself the junior level stuff, how to spot metamorphic rock and all. If only I had a handheld T.T. scope, like one of the 90 or so they put on the Taygete. If it wasn't for the knowledge base of the Celaeno computers, we wouldn't know where to start with smelting steel.

At least Ellen has all the equipment she needs. She has been analyzing the native fauna, trying to see if any of it is potentially useful. But the answer seems to be that it isn't, certainly not as a source of food. It is just as well the Celaeno was stocked with genetic samples of every species known on Earth, from aardvarks to zebras. The indigenous animals have fat molecules that are incompatible with ours, to the point that we're mutually indigestible. They also have a cyanide-like chemical in their blood, and apparently we're nearly as poisonous to them-they can't take too much iron. Unfortunately, some of the bigger carnivores look as if they might bite our heads off before they learn this.

Some of Ellen's colleagues have been looking at the vegetation. They think the grass-like stuff will support Earth herbivores as long as they can engineer a gene for an enzyme to break down the cellular coating. Dr. Himoti is working on it, and once she's finished, they'll put six experimental sheep in the artificial wombs. On a related subject, Ellen isn't pregnant yet, but we're working on it.

03-September-01: One of Ellen's friends, Simon, was telling me that we have been really fortunate with the flora. Iron is poisonous to the native animals, and recently (in evolutionary terms) one family of plants has exploited this by concentrating iron in its leaves. The result is that these plants, with nothing to eat them, have run riot and triggered a mass extinction event in the fauna. The animal evolution was starting to catch up, but there is still a great big hole in the ecosphere ideally suited to iron-loving Earth herbivores.

15-October-01: The first attempt at smelting was not a complete success. Three of us burned our hands, and the steel was so weak it snapped when you tapped it. But we all stood around grinning like idiots and slapping each other on the backs. At least we are going forward.

At home, I think Ellen is starting to get a little worried. She's still not pregnant. But I know it can take a bit of time for things to get working after you reactivate hormonal cycles. We should give it a couple more months before going for a medical check. Anyway, Ellen has a lot of important work on at the lab. She doesn't need distractions. She's now working directly with Dr. Himoti.

01-December-01: The weather is getting much colder. We're OK inside the buildings, but when we go outside, the low temperatures are actually painful on the skin. It's frightening to feel so vulnerable. I almost wonder if Jaminda Uti might have been right. The emergency power sources should last for our lifetime and keep the heating going, but how will our children survive once the fuel runs out? Someone told me it's going to get a lot colder still in a month or so. You see the old pictures of people playing in snow, and it all looks like fun. I start to suspect that the truth was a little different. The daytime temperature at the moment is well above freezing, and it still feels as if the cold could kill you. What will it be like when it's low enough for snow to settle on the ground?

I was saying this to Natasha Krowe, who used to work as a ranger in a wildlife preserve on Earth. She cracked up laughing. She couldn't believe that I've never been exposed to sub-zero temperatures before, whereas she's quite used to living without the cushion of technology- tramping through the wilds and all. She's challenged me to what she called a snowball fight after the first snowfall, but I don't think I'll be taking her up on it.

03-January-02: It's not just Ellen. No one is pregnant. Ellen told me yesterday that a group at the lab has been formed to look into it. It was supposed to be on the quiet, but half the colony seems to know, although no one is voicing their worries aloud.

Despite the cold, the smelting group are throwing themselves into the work, keeping the furnace going. Perhaps it's for the warmth, or perhaps we just need to demonstrate our faith in the future.

09-January-02: More bad news. Two plant biologists out surveying in the mountains to the north were killed by large cat-like animals. The rescue team found the partly eaten remains. It's no comfort to know the cats will have had massive indigestion and most of their fur will have dropped out from iron poisoning.

A few of the colonists are service personnel who had originally been intended to form the colony's security team. Natasha Krowe is going to train them to work as rangers, patrolling the outskirts of the valley. Hopefully, they'll be able to prevent a similar cat-attack from happening again, or at least be able to warn people of where to stay away from.

02-February-02: We all knew something was wrong, though we tried to dismiss the doubts, but after eight months, someone should have gotten pregnant. Now the report from the lab is common knowledge, and it's worse than anyone guessed.

The plants on this planet produce pollen that plays hell with male hormones. The stuff is in the air, in the water, in us. Ellen has told me it acts a bit like estrogen, but with a whole set of extra complications. Most women aren't too badly affected, but every man has a sperm count of absolute zero. I feel as if I want to wear a mask over my face. Not that it would help. It explains why quite a lot of men have been complaining about feeling nauseous in the mornings.

Last night, some people were suggesting making isolation rooms, I guess with visions of prospective fathers sitting inside, waiting for their sperm count to recover. But Ellen said that women are so flooded with the estrogen complex that males couldn't develop in the womb. We could probably fix it so that a few boys were born, but once the high-tech resources from the Celaeno run out, there wouldn't be any way to carry on.

I can't believe Himoti didn't spot it in her original survey, but she says the estrogen complex wasn't detected, as it is not, strictly speaking, poisonous.

01-April-02: It's a beautiful day. The sun is out. The grasslands are ablaze with small red flowers and the air smells so sweet. For the first time in my life, I haven't been protected from winter, and now that spring is here, I can feel the new life about to break forth in the world. It would be exhilarating, if it weren't for the reminder that no life will ever come forth from us. Pretty much all work in the colony has stopped. I went out this morning and looked at the prototype furnace. I stood there for ages, crying. I feel so useless.

13-May-02: So now we know what Dr. Himoti has been working on for the past few months. No wonder she's been keeping it quiet. Even Ellen didn't know what she was up to. And no wonder the Earth authorities back home had kept quiet about the results of the research done by the neo-eugenicists. Himoti must have been close to the gods just to get a look at the reports. I wonder how she ever got permission to bring copies with her on the Celaeno.

I knew the neo-eugenicists had played around with bioengineering, wanting to create a race of superior beings. I'd heard they even had a few experimental fetuses in tanks when the government nailed them down. Like everyone else, I had assumed they were trying to make 2meter tall supermen with IQs of 500 plus, but according to Himoti, their goals had been in a quite different direction. I was surprised when she started talking about the neo-eugenicists' work on genetically inducing extrasensory perception, but it just confirmed my view of them as potentially dangerous cranks. When she told us they'd succeeded, I was stunned. Even after the hours of explanations, I think a large section of the colonists still can't take it seriously. If it wasn't that Ellen was convinced, I'd probably be one of them.

Apparently, the neo-eugenicists had managed to bioengineer telepathy, telekinesis, psychic healing, and the all rest, but it's just the psychic healing that Himoti has concentrated on-the ability of one person to manipulate the bodily functions of another, using only the power of their mind. Himoti claims we could genetically engineer the potential for psychic healing into our descendants, to create a self-sustaining population for this planet. It will be an innate ability that will be passed down the generations, long after the high-tech equipment from the Celaeno has worn out. At first, I thought Himoti was suggesting some sort of magical cure for the male infertility, but her proposal was even more startling.

According to Himoti, not all the children would have the ability, and those that do, won't have it equally. I got a bit lost with the math of recessive genes, but Himoti estimates that in the population, one in a hundred would have enough psychic ability to be a highly proficient healer. Beyond this, one in a thousand would have enough of the ability to be able to mentally manipulate individual cells so as to induce women and animals to spontaneously clone themselves. At this point in the meeting, I think the audience was equally divided between those who were laughing and those whose jaws were hanging open. But Himoti went one stage further. She said that one in ten thousand would take psychic healing to its ultimate degree and be able to deconstruct genetic material in a cloned cell and imprint sections of another person's DNA onto it.

There was absolute silence in the meeting. I don't think any of us could really believe that psychic powers could achieve something it would normally take a fully equipped genetics lab to do. But Himoti sounded convinced it would work. She said we can do it, but is it right? She's given us a decision to make, and every vote that has gone before is kindergarten ethics by comparison.

16-May-02: We sat up all last night, arguing. Ellen is utterly opposed to Himoti's plan, and not because she has doubts about it working. She's seen the calculations and agrees they are scientifically correct, although not morally right. But I'm not so sure. The neoeugenicists' work was outlawed because they wanted to create a select master race. On this planet, every baby will start with the same chance of having the ability, and without it, no one will be able to live here at all-and although I know it sounds pathetic, I want someone to use my furnace.

Of course, rational arguments don't really come into it. It's all on emotion, and there's plenty of that going around at the moment. Cedric joked with me that wherever you see two people together, you can hear four points of view. I'm not even sure whether Ellen's objections are because her training has encouraged her to think the issues over more fully, or because she is developing a marked personal dislike of Dr. Himoti.

No, I'm not being fair to Ellen, she wouldn't let her professional ethics be compromised by petty animosity.

22-May-02: The vote is over. There was a narrow but significant majority in favor of Himoti's plan. If we'd had to vote on the proposal on day one on the planet, it might have gone differently, but after months of dreaming and working for a new world, we couldn't give up. There are still a lot of issues to consider. Not the least is that it will be an all female world. Even if boys are conceived, they won't develop as male with all the estrogen complex in the environment. I know the lesbians in the colony decided as a group to abstain from the vote, but I have a feeling most other people did not notice, or misunderstood the gesture.

There are going to be some problems, but at the moment everyone seems relieved. Even Ellen isn't quite as upset as she thought she would be. She can feel that her conscience is clear, as she voted against, and I think she is a little ashamed to find herself excited by the new hope. It will be some time before Himoti finishes her experiments, but then the first embryos will be engineered in the lab.

26-November-03: Himoti's finished her initial work. The first batch of embryos are in the artificial wombs. We've been told one is going to be ours. I stood in the lab with Ellen, looking at the monitors and thinking of Himoti's predictions about the children being potentially healers, cloners, or imprinters. We've all become a bit cavalier about using the terms, but for the first time, the reality hit me. I tried to work out how I'd feel about rearing a child with psychic ability.

11-August-03: We received our daughter today. She's beautiful. Light brown skin, dark hair, dark eyes, and totally wonderful. We've named her Parnella after Ellen's mother. To get the genes she needed, Dr. Himoti has had to mix and match all the genetic material at her disposal. The DNA has been so well blended that there won't be much in the way of ethnic differences between the children, they'll all be uniform, homologous human. But Himoti has managed to make some concessions. Parnella even has a tiny section of Ellen's and my DNA in her makeup.

20-March-04: Ellen has convinced me that Himoti's behavior is becoming a concern. More and more, it feels as if Himoti, rather than Captain Dernic or the elected council, runs the place. She is definitely the one pushing the agenda. Ellen is supposed to be in charge of the gene bank, but she often finds her authority sidestepped.

20-January-05: Parnella is now running around and starting to string a few words together. Sometimes I look at her and just can't take Dr. Himoti's talk of paranormal abilities seriously. Parnella is such a wonderfully, beautifully, ordinary toddler, and her sister will be with us in under four months.

22-October-12: Himoti is becoming ever more autocratic. She's surrounded herself with an adoring clique. It takes an appointment for Ellen to see her, and lesser mortals like the elected council have no chance of getting her ear. Even Ellen's position is shaky. She has a senior post in the labs, but no real responsibility. She usually only finds out about decision-making meetings after they've happened. But at least it gives her time to spend with the girls. We've been allocated a fourth daughter, sometime next year.

01-September-17:I'm still shaking and stunned. Which is insane, given the amount of time I've had to get used to the idea of psychic healing-but to actually see it-

There was an accident in the tool room, and Cedric cut himself badly. There was blood everywhere. I was panicking and looking for the first aid kit, when Jake's eldest rushed over, put her hand on Cedric, and the bleeding stopped-just like that. Cedric said the pain vanished as if it had been switched off. Afterward there was just a nicely healing scab left on Cedric's arm that looked as if it was three days, rather than three minutes old.

I've just realized that, until now, I've never really, truly believed in Himoti's assertions.

19-July-19:Parnella is in love again. It's Cedric's daughter this time. Cedric came around to talk to me and mumbled and cleared his throat and then said, "Do you think they'll grow out of it?" I didn't know whether to laugh or what. Then suddenly a dozen or so odd conversations fell into place-the things people have said or not said over the years. I wonder what they have been thinking. I suspect some haven't been thinking at all. They can't have been assuming their daughters would be forever celibate, but perhaps they've been imagining sisterly, virtually platonic friendships. They look so surprised when their daughters start acting like love-struck adolescents.

I guess growing up with Anne gives me a different perspective. Younger siblings always get the advantage of the older ones breaking the ground for them, pushing back the boundaries of what your parents will allow. Anne did it for me with a vengeance. I know Mom and Dad never tried to criticize her, and they read all the pamphlets on how to support a gay or lesbian child, but they were so pleased I turned out straight, I could have brought home an alcoholic mud wrestler as a girlfriend and they wouldn't have minded.

As the years go by, I find myself thinking of Anne, more so than Mom and Dad. We were so close as children. I wonder what she would have made of this world. I think it might have amused her, or then again, maybe not. But one thing I got from her for certain. She never, for a second, let me get away with thinking that her relationships would be any less passionate or more sensible than my own.

12-April-24: Jean Smith came around here tonight, storming mad-not with us, she just wanted a sympathetic heterosexual ear. Dr. Himoti has accused her of corrupting the young. It seems that Himoti has been so bound up in her lab that she's only just noticed the children are forming steady relationships. One can but wonder at what she was expecting. Then apparently Himoti overheard some people saying how glad they were about there being a few lesbian couples in the colony to provide good role models.

It's the standard space agency line. Although it is no secret that heterosexuals are preferred for new colonies, the authorities do at least recognize that statistics will assert themselves in the second generation. That's why they insist on a few stable homosexual couples in every colony. But whatever the space agency might expect, it has obviously caught Himoti totally by surprise. Jean was the nearest lesbian that Himoti could lay her hands on, and she caught the full force of her anger. It occurs to me that Himoti might have more than a touch of homophobia about her, which I find incredibly ironic. Jean probably will too, when she calms down. But in fact, lesbianism doesn't come into it. People are innately sexual, and for our children there is simply no other option.

18-January-25: I'm going to be a grandfather. Parnella and Lilian have decided that after being together for two years, they are ready for children. They've got an appointment at the labs for tomorrow afternoon. They'll get one of Himoti's prepared embryos, but Parnella is going to carry the baby herself. All the artificial wombs are working flat out, but the waiting list for them is growing day by day, and having made up their minds, they don't want to wait.

But it gets me worrying again about the long-term future of the colony. There is no problem splicing DNA in the genetics lab, and it will be able to keep going for decades, but it won't last forever. I pray Himoti is right about cloners and imprinters who'll be able to create embryos without the need of scientific equipment. The population is getting big enough that some should start to show up soon-if Himoti's statistics were right. After all the work, it is unthinkable that the colony might die out.

It's a worry that must flit through most people's minds once or twice a year. But Himoti was certainly right about some of the children having the ability to heal by touch. The regular medical team is almost out of work.

01-September-25: Even if an imprinter does arrive, the lab will have to keep going for years. Dr. Himoti has been training some of the children in the necessary techniques, so they can carry on when all of us older ones have gone. It's a very sensible thing to do, but I share Ellen's concern about the cult growing up around Himoti. There's almost something of religious fervor about these young women at times.

12-August-28:Lilian's daughter was born at 5:00 this morning. Ellen and I have just gotten back from seeing the new arrival. Parnella and Lilian wanted to name the baby after me. We tried to explain that Peter wasn't a suitable name for a girl, though I'm not sure if it was worth the bother. Does it really matter? In the end, the baby was named Suzanne, after my mother.

23-February-30: Ellen has had a major argument with Himoti. Two of the young women working in the labs have been having a turbulent affair, although they've tried not to let it affect their work. But when she found out, Himoti refused to tolerate it and has thrown them out of the labs. Ellen took their side, and so she has been kicked out as well. Himoti will probably relent when she calms down, but Ellen says she doesn't want to go back. Says she can't put up with Himoti's games of omnipotence any more. I can't say I blame her. Ellen's offered to help the rangers studying the native wildlife, one last go out in the field before she gets too old.

I can't make Himoti out. She's not a classic homophobe. From what I can tell, it's not so much the physical act of making love that upsets her, but rather the emotional commitment. Although I think she'd be happier if they practiced neither, and of course, the distinction is lost on the children.

07-November-39: It's just been confirmed that little Suzie is a cloner! The tenth in the colony. It's been obvious since she was about four that she was going to be an exceptional healer, and I know Ellen has been convinced that she would be able to induce cloning, but I wasn't sure if her pride as a grandmother wasn't giving her false hopes. Of course Himoti wants to take charge of the child, but Ellen and Parnella have put up a fight. Suzie will go to the labs for lessons in genetics, but Ellen's determined she won't become one of Himoti's acolytes.

12-April-41: The mare has produced a foal. Suzie's first cloning. Back when she had initially induced the mare's pregnancy, I tried to get Suzie to describe how she did what she did and what it is she sees inside other living beings. She made an attempt to explain, but I guess it was a bit like trying to tell a deaf person about sound. I've stopped questioning all sorts of miracle healing by the laying on of hands. I'm just going to have to add psychic cloning to the list.

Suzie dragged Ellen and me along to see the foal. She is delighted at her first creation. I'm trying to work out whether this makes me a great-grandfather or not. But I guess this means that the colony is viable. Even if no one ever manages to psychically imprint DNA patterns onto an embryo, at least it will be possible to clone people once the lab wears out, although I can't help feeling it would be better to produce unique individuals.

09-July-47: I've just gotten back from Cedric's funeral. We buried him with a section of the original smelting furnace. I hope there will still be a piece left when it's my turn to go. We older ones from the Celaeno are starting to thin out slightly, but the children are doing well. Last population count was just over 18,000 people, including twenty-eight cloners and two possible imprinters.

It's strange how the eye adapts. All the children have light brown skin and dark brown hair, but I've gotten so used to it that they now seem every bit as varied as the original population from Earth. To their own eyes, the differences are probably even more marked.

03-February-48: I'm not sure whether to be amused or horrified by Himoti's disciples at the labs. They've taken to calling themselves the Sisterhood and wearing their lab masks and lab coats all the time, like a badge of office or a priestess's robes. But once the labs outgrow their usefulness and the imprinters take over, it will put an end to the nonsense.

27-October-53: Ellen was invited back to the labs to help file away Himoti's papers. I'm surprised the Sisterhood let her in, but now that Himoti is dead, Ellen is the most senior geneticist, and I think they wanted to be certain that nothing important was overlooked. Ellen says everything is very well ordered, so it shouldn't take her too long. Himoti had her hand on the rudder right up to the last, even though she was over 90.

04-November-53: Ellen has smuggled out a wad of Himoti's personal papers, those giving her private thoughts and plans. We don't know quite what to do with them. It's probably too late now to do anything sensible. We haven't shown them to anyone else, we just sit and read them, horrified.

At least we now know why Himoti insisted on creating a single racial type. She actually seems to have thought that with a single race and a single gender, she could create a sisterly utopia. One big melting pot, or something equally banal. No sexism or racism-as if people need race or gender to find an excuse to treat each other like shit. She even thought that with only women, there would be an end to possessive, manipulative relationships. Half an hour talking to my sister Anne would have set her straight-or maybe not. Himoti seemed to think that her perfectly engineered specimens would not make the mistake of getting passionately irrational about each other. Words fail me. How could someone so clever be so naive? And it's too late now to challenge Himoti, or try and modify her legacy. Already her followers talk about her as if she was semi-divine.

Now Ellen and I are asking ourselves questions about way back, when Himoti put her original proposition to us. We even wonder if she knew about the estrogen complex before we left the Celaeno. How seriously did she look into other alternatives? How much did she manipulate the colony to follow her own dreams and delusions? Why weren't we more skeptical that she could engineer psychic ability but couldn't engineer a solution to the male infertility? Why didn't we ask more questions?

28-May-61: Ellen's grave looks very peaceful. I found myself talking to it. Just like I talked to her SA chamber when I was on the Celaeno. The children have promised to bury me alongside her. It can't be that far off.

The Sisterhood is completing their plans to build a memorial over Himoti's grave. From what I can see, they're reinventing the temple, but there is no point trying to argue with them. Some young fanatics who lack the brains to join the Sisterhood have formed themselves into a sort of honor guard, styled on the rangers. They worry me.

Sometimes, they seem to treat all of the original colonists with reverence. They call us 'the elder-ones,' which is, I guess, partly our own fault for always calling them 'the children.' I think they would be quite happy if I was to claim to be a saint. I can see the graveyard being turned into a field of shrines. I trust our kids will know that neither Ellen nor I would want that. We did our best for the world. The lives our children create are the only monument we want.

Last entry in diary

Mid-winter's day-67: There's just us four original colonists left, Karin, Jade, Carma, and me. We met together to celebrate mid-winter and talked about the Celaeno. She's still up there over Landfall, parked in geo-stationary orbit. And we talked about the Earth. We wondered what it looks like now, who lives there, if our children will ever meet up with them, and what they'll make of each other.

Afterward, I got home and read back through all my diaries. When I boarded the Celaeno for a new world, I never dreamed I'd end up being the last man on the planet. It's been a long hard job, building a world. I don't know how our children will judge us, I only pray we did the right thing.