Glory Season

Game tokens lay scattered across the cover of the cargo hold — small black and white tiles with whiskerlike sensors protruding from their sides and corners. At first, Re

How do I keep getting talked into weird stuff like this? Maia wondered as she got up and stretched her throbbing arms. I'll be a wreck by evening. Still, it beat peeling vegetables, or the other "light work" tasks she'd been assigned since being let out. And the prospect of her first formal Life match had Maia intrigued, if not exactly breathless.

Maia dutifully supervised the dishing out of Re

When Re

Hey, Maia thought at the time. Did anyone hear me volunteer?

Not that she really minded, even when her wrists ached from the endless, repetitive twisting. A fresh east wind filled Manitou's electric generator and stretched its billowing sails, causing the masts to creak gently under the strain. It also filled Maia's lungs with growing hope. Maybe things are going to work out, this time.

I'm going to see Landing Continent.

If only Leie were here, so we could see it together.

Unlike the creaky, old Wotan, this was a fast vessel, built to carry light cargoes and passengers. Its sailors were well-accoutered, befitting members of a prestigious guild. Cabin boys, newly chosen from their mother clans, ran errands with enthusiastic dash. Maia found the officers' uniformed splendor both impressive and more than a little pompous.

After her spell in Long Valley, where men had been scarcer than red lugars, it seemed strange now, living with so many around. Her experience with, the Beller drug undermined Maia's confidence in winter's sure promise of male docility. What was it like before Lysos? she wondered. You never knew which men were dangerous, or when.

Surreptitiously, she watched the sailors, comparing them to Re

Other differences ran deeper, Re

No one made fun of his beard, now lustrous and curly dark. A summer beard few Stratoin men could match this time of year. But there was some teasing concerning his diet. Normal ship's fare was all right — grain and legume porridge, supplemented by fish stew. But he politely refused red meat from the ship's cooler, citing "protein allergies," and would not drink seawater under any circumstances. The cook, grumbling about "finicky land-boys," tapped a freshwater cask just for him. Kiel shrugged and paid for it.

Maia felt she was well over the hearth-pangs that had filled her lonely solitude at the prison-sanctuary. Except in his intelligence and essential goodness, Re

Still, why did she find herself occasionally washed by illogical feelings of jealousy when Re

Even if I were, what would jealousy have to do with it?

Maia sought within. Some thoughts seemed to make her feel all wound-up inside. Others provoked disconcerting waves of warmth, or desolation.

Then again, maybe I'm making a big deal out of nothing.

It might have helped to talk out her confusion, but Maia wasn't comfortable confiding in strangers. For that, there had always been Leie.

The sea had Leie, now. Although an endless reach of ocean surrounded her, Maia didn't like to look upon it.

After lunch, Re

"Sounds like a lot o' scrubbin' an' spittin'," one sailor reported.

Maia made sure nobody intruded. Whatever his alien needs, Re

The women on board, all vars, fell into three types Maia could discern. Half a dozen, including Naroin, were experienced winter sailors, comfortable working side by side with the more numerous male crew. Worldly and capable, they appeared more amused than interested in the political obsessions of the paying passengers.

Next were twenty-one rads, partners in the bold scheme to hustle Re

In high spirits after their successful foray, the rads were talkative, excited, and clearly better educated than the average var. Their soft-voweled city accents hardly impressed the third group — eight rough-looking women, most of whom spoke the low, drawling dialect of the Southern Isles. As Naroin put it, Baltha and her friends were along as "hired sticks." Mercenary guards to fill out the expedition's complement. The southlanders scarcely concealed their contempt for the idealistic rads, but seemed happy to take their pay.

Re

"The what?" Maia asked.

Re