A kitchen/dinette for meals, a living room for guests, a den for conspirators, a library for study, an exercise room for physical torture, and a bedroom for sleep, all fitted about one another like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, in perhaps two-thirds the space of the average dwelling. Odd.
Katya made coffee at the counter along one wall, using the elaborate samovar she had installed to keep a constant supply of hot water. She seemed to be giving the conversation only half of her attention. The rest of her mind was probably evaluating the relational dynamic between Jessica and Aaron. Jessica stood next to Aaron's chair, idly fondling his hair. Not that Katya was directly interested in Aaron—any fool could see that she was in love with Justin. But a Tragon-Weyland alliance would affect Avalonian history for the next three centuries.
The monitor next to Aaron's huge easy chair looked blank at first glance, and Chaka took a moment to study it. Pale brown, with a fine texture... faded ornate lettering... and then it leapt into focus.
It was the Scribeveldt, that northeastern region of the continent which had never been seen except through cameras aboard Geographic. Flat and featureless, endless pampas, with one river and few streams. Chaka watched cursor points draw tracks in speeded-up motion. They made pale graceful curves that crossed each other rarely, as if something immense was trying to write messages to Geographic.
Chaka cleared his throat and spoke to the computer screen. "Edgar, you on?"
He was looking at the top of Edgar's head. Eyes glanced up, fell again. "Yeah."
Trish Chance's fingers clamped on Chaka's forearm, and she swung him around into a gaudy, passionate kiss. Edgar looked up again, fighting a smile. "I'm here. I'm listening. Hi, Chaka. Hi, Trish. Enough already."
"Hi, Edgar," Trish sang sweetly.
"Edgar, it's official," Aaron said, and it was suddenly clear he was speaking to them all. "No expedition to the mainland. Not even for Grendel Scout graduations. Nothing until they understand what happened."
"That's a quote?" Chaka asked.
"Condensation. Accurate, though."
"They won't understand until we learn more," Chaka said. "And we won't learn until we've been there awhile."
Katya asked, "Chaka? What do you think happened?"
Chaka shook his head. "Avalon Weird. It's a locked-room mystery. I don't have any ideas. Neither does my father." He caught Aaron's change of expression, and met his eyes. Father.
"Your father," Aaron said, "is as likely to have ice on his mind as any other First. Your father is not closer to an answer than anyone else. They will never find out. Something killed our friends. They won't let us go until we know, and we can't know unless we go. It's a perfect dilemma."
"I wouldn't go that far," Chaka said.
"Oh? Why not?"
Chaka sipped black coffee. "The point is, one day we will go back.
This edict won't last forever."
"Sure, we'll outnumber them one day," Trish said.
"I won't wait that long." Jessica stood at the wet bar where Katya waited for water to boil. There was jittery energy in her stance, in her voice. "Something killed Linda. Linda and Joe, but not the baby. How can you sleep, not knowing what did that? You say Avalon Weird, you're talking about something that almost wiped this world clean of us! I have to know what killed my sister."
"Your father's the one who won't let us find out," Aaron said.
Jessica nodded. "Loyalty. Dad's big on loyalty. He'll fight Zack every step, but once a decision is made—"
"Loyalty to the king," Aaron said, skirting sarcasm only by the blandness of his expression. "A cardinal virtue of the warrior."
"Chaka Zulu would agree," Chaka said without a trace of irony. "Courage, obedience to the king, protection of the weak. Universals." He was already thinking in terms of robot probes. Earth's solar system had been explored by probes long before the first men set foot on Mars. Neat little multi-wheeled bugs had crawled over the faces of Mars and the outer moons. Cassandra had to have templates...
"Well, we're not bound by obedience," Aaron said. "To Zack, or Colonel Weyland, or the council, or all the icebound Earth Born at once."
"Ice, ice, ice," Chaka exploded. "Why is it always ice when the Earth Born aren't doing what we want?"
Aaron took a moment to shape his response, and Toshiro stole that moment. "The First are not always wrong. Jessica has the scar to show, and Mack what's-his-name died—"
"Mack Reinecke," Chaka said. "He was a Bottle Baby too, just younger than Justin. Most of you weren't old enough to be there—"
Aaron was listening, silent. The story would get told, no matter what he did.
"Four of the First took us on campout," Toshiro said. "Zack Moskowitz needed exercise. Zack and Rachael, Hendrick Sills, Carolyn McAndrews. They wanted coffee. And they took eight of us, the oldest children, whoever might be big enough to carry his pack. I was eleven. At that, Trish got too tired and Hendrick had to tie her pack to his own. Made Hendrick a little surly.
"So we made camp at night, and the next morning the First set us collecting coffee. We got bored with that, so they took over and we went exploring. An hour later we were looking at a pterodon nest. It was below us, across jagged rock cliffs.
"We watched it until we got hungry, and then we went back for lunch. Trish told Zack. Zack told us not to go anywhere near a pterodon nest, and Hendrick backed him. Aaron, you asked Zack what he thought would happen. He didn't know. Hendrick didn't know.
"We went off again. Mack Reinecke led us around to a place we could get down into the nest. Mack was in the nest—"
"So was I," Aaron said. "And four eggs, way bigger than hen's eggs, and leathery. I took one."
"Yes you did," Toshiro said. "And then one of the adults came back. We all scrambled away as best we could. The other big bird caught us coming up the rocks. That one slashed Jessica across the head and neck, a great gaudy scary slash. Aaron fought them off with rocks while the rest of us got away.
"It took a skeeter to find Mack. He was part eaten. The pterodons knocked him off the rocks."
"All right, Toshiro," Aaron said. "I'll even give you this. Zack and Hendrick gave us the same advice we'd give the Grendel Biters now. We acted like we had ice on our minds. We were children."
"So what will we do?" Katya asked quietly.
"Go back."
The Second looked at each other. Nobody said anything until Chaka asked, "How?"
Aaron shrugged. "Once we decide what we'll do, the how becomes a mere tactics and logistical detail. Are we agreed that we'll go?"
There was a chorus of ayes, Chaka's not among them. Aaron noticed. He raised an interrogative eyebrow. "Have we a problem?"
"Maybe," Chaka said. "Edgar is worried about the weather."
Suddenly, Edgar's onscreen attention was theirs. "There's no doubt about it, the sun is heating up, and the local life-forms—"
"Wow," Trish giggled. "How much? I mean if this is the end we should have a hell of a party—"
"It's not going to cremate us, Trish!" Edgar said indignantly. "You have apocalyptic tastes."
"Oh," she pouted. "Sorry."
Like hell, Chaka thought. She's playing a game, and I can't see it.
"It's normal variance," Edgar said. "Tau Ceti has a fifty-year cycle. We're coming up on the maximum output. More energy means more variable weather. Higher winds. Weather gets less predictable... say, two days ahead instead of four. I've had Cassandra mark out regions on the mainland where we could get tornadoes." A map replaced Edgar's face for a long moment; then he reappeared. The Scribeveldt was an angry red. "Here in Camelot we could get hurricanes and typhoons along the north and west coast. The ecology seems to be heating up too, but you'll have to ask the Chakas about that."