“Sir, I don’t understand. Are you just going to let her go?”

“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think, John?”

The two men were alone in the study, standing by a high window. Through the glass, in the courtyard below, they watched a woman playing with a young girl and two small boys.

“But sir, she’s taking your daughter with her,” John continued.

“Would you prefer I kidnap her? Hold them both against Maria’s wishes? The courts ruled against me. Georgina will go to live with her mother, and her mother will be returning to her parents in the States. No unsupervised contact of any kind until her eighteenth birthday.” The man laughed bitterly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Maria claims I’m dead or worse.”

“You’re seriously going to let her gifts go to waste,” John persisted.

“Sight, Heart, and Will, the Drachbene family crest and the family curse. Maybe she’s better off this way. Maybe the gifts will fade and she’ll have a chance to live a new life.” The man’s eyes never strayed from the figures down below. When the girl turned her head to one side, laughing as she ran across the yard, the resemblance between him and her was clear. Tomorrow morning, just after dawn, Gregory Malcolm Drachbene would say goodbye to his only child for the very last time. Her mother might have thought that she was only delaying their reunion by another ten years, but he knew better. In ten years, he’d be dead for certain, just another casualty of the war brewing in their midst.

“You can’t really mean that, sir.”

Gregory looked up, startled out of his contemplation. “Why not? Claudia’s got those two boys of hers down there, and a third on the way.”

“Your sister’s boys aren’t gifted as strongly as Georgina.”

“Perhaps not, but they’re young yet. They have time to grow, and their training will take care of the rest.”

“And if Georgina’s gifts don’t fade?” John asked. “Their seekers could find her, you know. They have allies in the States.”

“Then I hope Maria has the good sense to come to me for help.”

“I told you to leave him alone,” Gina yelled. The two boys just looked her way and snickered. Their target, one of the little kids that lived in her apartment building, took his opportunity to flee past her as fast as his legs would carry him. She waited until she heard the sound of his feet on the building’s stairs before walking forward. These two jerks obviously hadn’t heard of her.

“You try anything like that again, and you’ll be sorry,” she warned them.

“What, you’re going to stop us?” the taller of the two bullies asked in disbelief. “Little punk had it coming to him, didn’t he Jamie?”

“Yeah,” the smaller boy agreed. “He wouldn’t do what he was told.”

Gina clenched her fists and tried again to reason with them. “He’s half your size and half your age. Last week, he came home with bruises up and down his sides. Was that you?”

“Maybe it was. So what?” The two bullies started snickering again, no at the memory.

Gina didn’t waste any more time with words. She punched the first bully hard in the stomach and watched while he crumpled to the ground in pain, tears in his eyes. When the second bully tried to retaliate, she kneed him in the groin.

“Don’t let me hear that you’ve been bullying him or any of the other kids on this block, or you’ll get worse next time,” she told them.

“You’re that crazy bitch, Georgina Mallory,” the first bully blurted out.

The second one managed to elbow him hard in the side before he said any more. “Shut up,” he hissed. “You want to get the crap beaten out of you like she did to Mark Rendal?”

Gina just let them argue amongst themselves. She didn’t care what the guys thought of her at school. She was a senior anyway, and with any luck, she’d be landing that scholarship and getting out of this place. When she was sure that they weren’t going to try again, she turned her back on them, picked up her book bag from where she’d dropped it, and headed up the stairs into her building. She found the little boy standing there, just inside the entrance. She had to fight to remember his name. David, that was it. The faces of the tenants here blurred together sometimes, and before this little boy had moved in, there had been another family just like his in the same apartment.

“You were great, Gina,” David said happily.

“Just remember what I said. If they bother you again, you come and tell me, all right?”

David nodded and ran up the stairs to his floor. Gina followed him at a more leisurely pace. She had a bitter taste left in her mouth from her encounter out front, and she wanted a few minutes to collect herself in peace and quiet.

She found her floor and unlocked the door to the apartment she shared with her mother. She headed back to the kitchen, flipping on the lights as she went. What she really wanted was a cup of tea to soothe her nerves. The kettle was where it always was, sitting on the stove top. She filled it with water from the sink and put it back on the stove to boil. While she waited, she passed the time by sorting through the contents of her mother’s tea stash. Most of it was just that oddball herbal junk her mother favored, but she found a heavy canister of Earl Gray in the back of the pantry. She opened it and sniffed at the contents. The weight of it had deceived her. There was only just enough to make a pot. She’d have to bug her mother to pick some more up later.

“Georgina?” her mother’s voice called out suddenly. Gina nearly dropped the canister in surprise.

“I thought you were still at work. What are you doing home so early?” Gina called back. She walked past the dining table and turned to face the living room, canister still in hand. She froze in place when she discovered that her mother was not alone. There were two men in suits sitting on either side of her mother on the couch, and the man on the right had a knife to her mother’s throat. “Who are you people?” she blurted out.

“Now, now, Georgina,” the man on the left admonished. “That’s no way to talk to your guests.”

“What’s this about?” Gina demanded. “What do you want?”

“We’re…friends of your father,” he said.

“Acquaintances, rather,” the other man corrected him.

“Oh let’s be honest, now. We never did get along with the man,” the first one said. He turned back to Gina and gave her a pointed smile. “You might as well know, Georgina, that we killed your father. I thought we should get that bit of unpleasantness out of the way before we go any further.”

It took a moment for the importance of that statement to sink in, but Gina wasn’t about to let it show that the news bothered her. Besides, she found it hard to believe. Hadn’t he died of a heart attack? “My father died five years ago,” Gina said. “If that was you, why are you here now? Is this about my mother?”

“Ah yes, your mother. Your mother was clever. She changed your last name when she left him. We were looking for a Georgina Drachbene, not a Georgina Mallory. Of course, she should have changed your first name too, since there aren’t many Georgina’s left at all anymore.” The man walked to the nearest window, covered with a set of wooden blinds, and lifted one of the slats to peer out at the street below. Outside it was still a bright, beautiful fall day. The sun’s rays glanced off something shiny and metallic in the man’s belt. At first she thought it was a gun, but when he turned back to face her, his jacket shifted slightly and she realized it was the hilt of a sword.

Gina spoke up quickly, to cover her surprise. “You were looking for me? Why? I haven’t seen or spoken to him since my parents’ divorce. I don’t even remember what he looked like.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re in the bloodline,” the man on the couch said. He ran a hand through her mother’s hair, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. “It’s funny, but you don’t look a bit like her now,” he told Gina. “In the picture we took from your father’s desk, you were the spitting image of her.”

With a slow creeping horror, she realized that the two men weren’t just dressed the same, they were identical in every aspect. Both had the same white blond hair and yellow eyes, strange enough features on their own, but even their voices sounded alike. If she got turned about somehow, she wasn’t certain that she’d ever be able to tell them apart again. It shouldn’t have bothered her as much as it did, but it felt oddly disconcerting. These men were clearly nuts, but it wasn’t clear what she should do. Did she dare scream for help? Should she try to take the men unawares in a fight? She glanced over at her mother, trying to decide. Her mother was sitting so still, Gina couldn’t even tell if she was still alive. That ugly thought was enough to startle her into action. “Mum, say something,” Gina called out. “I need to know you’re all right.”

Her mother’s eyes met hers from across the room. “Sweetie, run!” her mother yelled. “They want you dead.”

Before Gina could react, the man with the knife managed to free his hand long enough to smack Gina’s mother full across the face. “Shut up, woman,” he told her. He turned to his partner and asked “Do we kill the girl now or take her back to Mother?”

“I think Mother wanted her alive, for now. Kill the woman, though,” the man on the left said. “We won’t need her anymore, now that we’ve got the girl.” He pushed himself off the wall casually and walked toward Georgina. He drew his sword and pointed it at her. Some panicked corner of her brain fixated on it in terror. It wasn’t some dainty rapier after all. It was a broadsword, and if the stains along its blade were anything to judge it by, it had seen plenty of use. “If you play nice and come back with us to England, I’ll make sure your death is a clean one.”

Gina’s eyes flicked back and forth from her mother to the man in front of her, trying to decide what to do, but the man on the couch didn’t waste much time. He drew his knife across her mother’s throat, sending out a spray of blood that covered the carpet in front of her. Gina watched in horror as her mother slumped forward onto the ground. Without even thinking about it, she dodged around the sword pointed at her throat, brained the man in front of her with the tea canister, and wrested the sword from his grasp. She faltered for a moment as she realized what she had done, but she recovered in time to stop his charge with a sword thrust through the chest. She pulled out the blade in one clean motion and watched as he fell to the ground. A noise to her side made her whirl around to face the remaining man, still on the couch. He hadn’t budged an inch.

“Nice work, but don’t think that this is over,” the man retorted. “You’ll be hearing from the likes of us again.” He wiped his knife clean on a handkerchief he’d produced from some inner pocket and put both away in his suit jacket. He stood up slowly, executed a small bow, and snapped his fingers. Just like that, he vanished before her eyes. Gina wheeled around at a sudden thought, but the man on the ground by her feet had disappeared too. Rather than wait to see if they’d reappear, she rushed to her mother’s side and felt for a pulse. There wasn’t one.

Gina rolled her mother over and started pounding on her chest, frantically trying to recall the CPR lessons she’d learned last summer. The minutes passed quickly with no result, and she was eventually forced to admit defeat. The ambulance would never get there in time. A sob escaped her then, and she drew her mother into her arms, rocking her back and forth. She bottled her anger up until it hurt. There must be something she could do, something she had missed. She closed her eyes and pictured her mother alive and well, as she’d been that morning when Gina had left for school. The tears came more freely. She would make those bastards pay for what they did.

She was so busy making her plans that she didn’t notice her mother was moving on her own, and it wasn’t until her mother called her name that she realized it wasn’t just wishful thinking. Her mother disentangled herself from her arms and leaned back against the couch.

“Why are you crying?” her mother asked. Gina stared at her, too surprised to say anything. She’d been so sure. She glanced at her mother’s neck and got another shock. The gash was gone.

“You were dead,” Gina said flatly. “One of those strangers had a knife. He slashed your throat, and you died.”

Her mother’s eyes widened and her hand flew to the place where she’d been wounded. “I remember now. It felt like a dream.” She pulled her hand away, now sticky with blood, and stared at it. “How is this possible?”

Gina rose to her feet and began to stretch her arms in front of her as a sudden wave of dizziness hit her. “I’m not feeling that great right now,” she admitted. “Must be the shock.” She waited a moment for the feeling to pass, but when she bent down to help her mother to her feet, she lost her balance and fell forward. She blacked out before she hit the carpet.

I caught up to where I left off with Seeds for NaNoWriMo 2007 a few weeks back, and I haven’t posted any updates since. I have two differing views on how to end that particular sequence. Novelette or something a little more epic? I’ve been knocking out some other stuff in the meantime, rewriting old stuff, playing around with plot elements for Joshua (I have to figure out how to pull it all together, and I need to rewrite a lot of the older, crappier chapters. Too much of it reads like an outline, not even a rough draft!), and taking some time out to get some of my other hobbies in. I do a lot of crafts, for example, and I tend to work wonky hours.

I have another take on my Mao story to share next week, and if I’m feeling generous, I may try to post a quick touchup on a character sketch that I’ve been molding into an actual story, a girl by the name of Georgina Mallory.

The instant Jaron finished translating the Ambassador’s words, there was an explosion of sound. The next few minutes were lost in an uproar as everyone began to talk or shout at once. The din was unbelievably deafening, and it got so bad that Rachael actually had to cover her ears.

“This is completely insane,” Rachael yelled to Michael.

“What did you expect?” he yelled back. “From the looks of it, the entire city turned out for this.”

Meanwhile, the Ambassador had raised his hands for silence. It took a while, but things finally quieted back down to normal.

Jaron walked back to stand with them. “From here on out, the proceedings are going to continue in Russian only. I’ll translate when necessary, though I may have to give you the condensed version in order to allow me to keep up with the flow. The standard procedure, since the Ambassador is the guest speaker, is to let the Ambassador direct the talk. He’ll take questions and comments from the council. The rest of the audience won’t be able to ask questions directly, but there are representatives that will be running notes back and forth. I took the liberty of having some chairs fetched for us, since we’ll probably be here for a while.” Even as he finished, two aides came up with a stack of chairs between them. At Jaron’s direction, they set them out in a row on the stage just behind the podium and Rachael and Michael helped themselves to a seat.

“You did good,” Michael told Rachael once they’d made themselves comfortable.

“You mean, ‘you did well,’” Rachael corrected him automatically. When she realized what she’d done, she had to suppress a laugh. “Sorry, old habits die hard. My mom used to do that to me all the time and I hated it.”

“My mother used to do the same thing to my brother and me. Clearly, it didn’t work.”

“Clearly,” Rachael agreed. She glanced over at Jaron. He was staring intently at the Ambassador, mouthing the words to himself. When she caught his eye, he smiled and leaned in close.

“Right now, the Ambassador is describing how his men went and found the crash site. It’s possible that one or more of them may have to give witness to it.” He nodded to himself at something the Ambassador said. “Good, he thought ahead. He got a few independent observers to go along to take pictures. See, they’re bringing out the big screens.”

The men that had brought out the chairs were lowering two large white screens from the ceiling with ropes and pulleys. When they had nearly reached the ground, the men tied them off so that they stayed suspended there, high enough so that everyone in the forum. Two men came out, each wheeling a small device, and positioned them at the base of each screen. Rachael watched as the man nearest them pulled out a long rectangular tube and inserted it into the side of the device. After a moment, a series of images appeared on the screen. The other man did the same. Several of the images were clearly taken at the crash site. Others were of the nearby village.

“Whoa, how’d you do that?” Michael asked.

Jaron gave Michael an odd look. “They’re just slide projectors.”

“That’s so clever,” Rachael exclaimed. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” She glanced at Jaron and gave him a sheepish smile. “I guess even the simplest things on Earth are computerized or digitized now. I have to know, how does it work?”

Jaron shrugged. “It’s not really that complicated. They develop the pictures so that they’re printed on some sort of semi-transparent plastic. Then they put a bunch of them side by side in one of those cartridges and load it into one of those machines. The machine pulls the cartridge through, shining a light through each one so that the image gets projected across the room. See? Simple.” He looked from Rachael to Michael. “You’ve seriously never seen one before?”

Rachael shook her head. “We have projectors, but I’ve never heard of slides.”

“I think they used to be pretty common on Earth,” Jaron explained. He trailed off, his attention back on the Ambassador’s speech. “He’s explaining the contents of the images and describing how you got from the crash site to New Leningrad. He’s probably going to start taking questions soon. Yep, there he goes now.”

The Ambassador called on a man seated nearby. When Rachael looked over to catch the source of the voice, she was surprised to discover that the man that had called out was seated right behind Alesia de Winters. She supposed that the man seated next to her was the General Secretary. She didn’t have time to dwell on that for long, because the man stood up and phrased his question. Before the Ambassador or Jaron could translate, the man did so himself, turning to look at Rachael and Michael. To his credit, his accent wasn’t much worse than anyone else they’d heard from so far.

“Ma’am, Sir, is this part of the plan for the Great Harvest? Obviously, we weren’t able to get word back to Earth in time before we landed on New Earth. Now that you’ve finally found us, how much longer will it take until the reunion takes place?”

Rachael walked forward to the podium. She hadn’t been looking forward to this part. “Uh, yes, well, actually I don’t believe anyone on Earth remembers your people at all. As far as I know, your flight from Earth might as well have never happened. There wasn’t any apocalypse or nuclear war, either. As I said, we were on a routine mission. We weren’t looking for any lost colonies.”

Jaron translated the answer for her. When he’d finished, the man looked stunned. “We’ve been forgotten, just like that?” he cried.

Without waiting for the Ambassador to call on her, Alesia stood up, blocking the man from view. She’d lost some of the complacent calm in her face, and she didn’t look like she was in a mood to flirt with anyone just then. She spoke directly to Jaron, not bothering to phrase her question in Russian first. “I am sorry, but I must ask you again. There was no war? No destruction?” She looked incredulous.

“Yes, that’s correct. I’ve never heard of the so called Cold War, either,” Rachael admitted. “Or any such near catastrophe.”

“There was no third ‘World War,’” Michael chimed in. “I’ve heard of the Cold War, but it ended with the fall of the Soviet Union in the late twentieth century.”

Alesia’s expression hardened immediately. “I refuse to believe that Communism could fail that easily. Is this some sort of joke? Some kind of American propaganda?”

Oops, Rachael thought, bad choice of words. She nudged Michael, hoping that he’d get the point.

“I didn’t mean to imply anything,” Michael said hurriedly. “Communism didn’t disappear entirely, it just transformed itself into something new over time.” He racked his brain for the right term. It had been a while since he’d read his political science textbooks. “It was eventually replaced by democratic socialism. It was far less radical, but it succeeded where Communism had failed because it had more modest goals. Gradual reform, not overnight revolutions.”

Alesia’s expression softened just a tad, but it was clear that she wasn’t that happy at what she had just heard. By the time Jaron had finished translating their words, it was clear that the rest of the council was far more upset at the news. There was an angry buzz in the air from the crowd at large, too.

“Great job there,” Rachael muttered in Michael’s ear. “You just insulted their entire system of government. Now everyone in the room looks like they want to bite your head off.”

Someone in the crowd stood up then and began yelling. Jaron looked uneasy as he translated the man’s words. “He wants to know what proof you have that you’re from Earth and not some other Seed.” More people stood up then and joined in. There weren’t that many happy faces looking back at them. The Ambassador pushed the three of them aside and took his place in front of the podium. He began speaking to them above the noise, and eventually it began to subside little by little.

“He’s essentially telling them to relax and consider how different our upbringings must have been. I don’t like this,” Jaron said.

“You don’t like his choice of words?” Rachael asked.

“No, I don’t like the crowd’s attitude. I wouldn’t be surprised if that man was put up to that by someone in the Flock. Look, I’m getting you out of here.”

“Back to the embassy, then?” Michael asked.

The crowd began to yell louder and this time Jaron turned pale. “How would you like to visit Columbia District a little earlier than we planned?”

“What are they yelling now?” Rachael demanded. When Jaron didn’t answer, she grabbed his shoulders. “Tell me.”

“That man’s calling for your head. He claims that you’re a delusional liar and that the Ambassador and his American cronies are plotting to usurp their government.”

“Shit, this backfired.”

“Grab everything you need from those tables,” Jaron said quietly. “Try to make it look casual.”

Rachael didn’t have to be told twice. She threw all the parts she’d dug out for the radio in her bag with her notes and started sorting through the rest to see what else she might need. “Alright,” she said at last. Michael was already standing nearby with his own bag slung over her shoulders.

“Follow me,” Jaron said, leading them down the steps of the stage and back toward the front entrance. No one paid much attention at first. They were too busy shouting at the Ambassador. By the time they’d gotten to the door, someone must have noticed their absence, because the uproar suddenly got much louder.

“Keep going!” Jaron yelled when they faltered. “We can’t risk hanging around to see if their mood improves, so let’s get a move on!”

He led them through the door and in the opposite direction of the way they’d come.

“We aren’t going back to the embassy?” Rachael asked in surprise.

“We’re leaving New Leningrad tonight. There’s no time. Once we get a few miles past the city limits, there’s a town I know where we can get some supplies.”

“What about the Ambassador?” Rachael protested again.

Jaron looked back and her and stopped for just a moment. “I am the Ambassador. Now, c’mon, no more talk.”

Rachael and Michael were too shocked to protest much further. They hefted their packs and hurried to keep up with the hard pace he’d set for them to follow.

The streets were empty. So far, at least, the man they had thought was the Ambassador was doing a good job keeping anyone from following in their footsteps. At least they hadn’t been in town long enough to really grow soft. Rachael was really regretting her choice of dress for the evening. She wasn’t going to last very long in these high heels. At first she’d thought she’d last until they reached the city limits, but as the night wore on, she could feel the blisters coming out on her heel already. Finally, she stumbled to a halt.

Jaron heard her curse and turned to see what was the matter. “We’re nearly there. Just a few more blocks and we’ll be on the main road going north.”

“It’s these stupid shoes,” Rachael muttered. She wrenched them off her feet and tossed them onto the street. She massaged her sore feet, trying to work some feeling back into them and cursing again when the feeling abruptly returned.

Without a word, Jaron walked to the other side of the road and began pacing along the strip. When he got to a row of shop windows, he smashed one out with a rock and climbed inside. It was too dark to see what it was that he’d gone into, but when he came back out, he was carrying a set of street clothes and a pair of sensible boots. He walked back towards them, holding them out in front of him.

Rachael put her hands out automatically to grab what he’d given her. This night was just full of all sorts of surprises. Shoplifting just seemed so out of character for him. She wriggled her way into the clothes, pulling the dress up and over her head through the opening on the shirt collar. Jaron picked up the dress and the shoes from where she’d dropped them and hid them in a nearby alley. He stood by quietly and waited until she’d yanked on the boots before starting off again in silence.

Rachael and Michael had just enough time to exchange a startled glance before they were off after him. They didn’t speak again until they were outside the city limits. Jaron slowed down and relaxed his pace once they’d hit what was apparently the highway going north.

“Don’t you people have cars?” Rachael joked. To her relief, Jaron laughed. The stranger that had pushed them so hard for the past few hours was gone.

“Cars don’t go without gasoline, right? Well, there’s no gasoline or oil on New Earth.”

Encouraged by his response, Rachael asked “How much longer now?”

“Unfortunately, it’s still another hour to the next village. Bear with me, and it’ll get easier after this. We’ll be able to rent a wagon and horse further on.”

“Promise?” Rachael asked.

“I promise.”

“Isn’t this so much fun?” Rachael bubbled. She was grinning like a mad man at the party going on around her. As the newest arrivals, the two of them were attracting a great deal of attention from the other socialites and dignitaries, and she was enjoying every minute of it. Go figure.

“Uh, sure,” Michael said. “Whatever you say.” He was having a hard time concentrating on what she was saying. She was wearing some sort of strapless number, and he had to admit that she pulled it off beautifully even though he was damn sure that she’d never worn the likes of it before.

“You’ve been staring at me all evening, like you’ve seen a ghost,” Rachael complained. “What is it?”

“I can’t decide what’s more surprising. The fact that you got me into this monkey suit in the first place or the part where a mechanic would ever agree to wear even half that get up you’ve got on.”

Rachael grinned and flipped her hair with a toss of her head. It’d been cropped short so that it hung just above her shoulders. “Admit it, I look pretty hot, don’t I?”

It was Michael’s turn to roll his eyes at her. “You’re spoiling the effect. The boasting ruins it for me.”

Rachael smirked back at him. “Oh really? Well, do try to carry on a conversation, all right? What is everyone going to say when they realize that you only have eyes for me?”

“That I’m your under grown body guard. Go torture some other poor soul with your womanly wiles. It doesn’t look like Jaron brought a date to the party.”

Rachael glanced over her shoulder. Jaron was standing close behind the Ambassador, whispering in his ear from time to time. “That’s because he’s working, stupid. See what he’s doing there? He’s telling the Ambassador who it is that he’s speaking to, who made it to the party and who didn’t, little stuff like that, so that he can be a good host to his guests.”

“Well, I just hope they make the big announcement soon. Then the Flock can come out of hiding and take me out of my misery.”

“Shh, I think it’s almost time now,” Rachael said in a whisper. “Look, the Ambassador is moving toward the podium now.”

There was a small stage set up in the main entranceway, up against the first flight of stairs. Sure enough, the Ambassador was moving there now, followed closely by Jaron and the young secretary that had been in his office the day they first met. Once the Ambassador reached his destination, he waited patiently for silence. It didn’t take long for the crowd to die down. After all, this was the real reason that so many of them had come.

“Ladies, gentlemen, comrades,” the Ambassador began. “Today, I have great tidings for all of us here on New Earth, Russian and American alike. Once I have delivered them to your satisfaction, I will be taking a short sabbatical in order to visit my home town, Columbia District, so that I may spread the word there as well.”

“I didn’t know he was planning anything like that,” Rachael whispered to Michael. Michael just shrugged.

“First, I’d like to ask Rachael Carr and Michael Rhys to join me up on stage.” Instantly, the attention of everyone in the room swiveled to focus on the two of them. At the same time, a space in the crowd appeared around them, leaving them momentarily stranded in the middle of the room.

“I guess that’s our cue,” Michael whispered.

“Yeah, I’d say that’s a pretty good guess,” Rachael whispered back. “Funny how they all knew exactly who he meant.”

Michael executed a small bow, took her arm, and led her to the front of the room. The Ambassador stood to the side and let them continue on to the podium. Jaron remained where he was, to translate for them.

Rachael leaned forward and called out, “Hello everyone! I’m sure some of you have been curious about where it is that Michael and I came from, what we do, why we’re at the Ambassador’s home with you now.” She paused to clear her throat and consider her next words carefully. “Well, you see, I’m from Mars.”

Once Jaron had finished translating her little impromptu speech, there was a light rumbling in the crowd. “Keep going,” Michael whispered. “They probably think Mars is a town name.”

“I mean, I’m from Mars the planet. The one that sits close to Earth. Earth is alive and well to this day, a bustling planet full of all different forms of life. My parents were born on Earth, and so were Michael’s, though he was born on a jump gate.”

Jaron fumbled over the last part, but he got the message across. The room had gone suddenly quiet. Finally, the uproar began. One woman began to laugh hysterically while the others began to shout all at once. It was confusing for Rachael, since it was mostly in Russian, not English.

“Jaron,” she hissed, hoping she’d be heard over the din, “what are they saying?”

“It’s all different. Some are calling you imposters, a few are actually demanding to know what happens next—I guess they think your arrival was an official visit—but the majority just look scared or worried.” Jaron looked worried himself. “I did argue against this, but the Ambassador does like to get his own way,” he told them. “Now some of the higher ups are going to take offense that they weren’t warned about this announcement ahead of time.” He pulled gently on Rachael’s arms and got her and Michael to step to the back of the stage. “Let the Ambassador handle his own mess.”

Ambassador Delamere walked confidently to the podium. “Friends, colleagues, I’m sure you want to hear more on these developments. After this party has been concluded, join me in the Council chambers. There will be proof to be had that will back up my new friends’ story, and you’ll be able to question either or both of them at length. Well, within reason.” He switched to Russian then and repeated the entire thing. There were a few laughs at his poor joke at the end.

As they watched everyone peacefully file out of the crowded hall, Jaron told them “And that is why he’s the ambassador and I’m just his sidekick.”

“But he didn’t say anything very much different from what you or I could have told them,” Rachael protested.

Jaron shrugged. “People trust the guy.”

Rachael turned to Michael. “You’ve been quiet.”

Michael turned bright red. “I’m not really good at public speaking.”

Rachael smiled. “Oh, don’t worry, I do enough talking for two.” Michael relaxed a little, enough to flash her his own weak smile.

Jaron scanned the receding crowd. After a moment, he turned back to them and bowed. “If you’ll allow me, I’ll escort you to the Council chambers. It’s not far from here. The ambassador’s house was strategically placed.”

The streets were strangely quiet. Or rather, they were quieter than Rachael had any right to expect.

“I guess the news hasn’t traveled that far yet,” she said aloud.

“I expect a decent crowd will be waiting for us at the Council chambers. Short of the temple, it’s the largest public gathering space available in New Leningrad,” Jaron explained.

The Council chambers had not been on the list of places that Jaron had taken them to in their tour of the city, so neither Michael nor Rachael had any idea what was in store for them. When they had passed it in the street just the other day, Jaron had pointed it out, but he hadn’t drawn any special attention to it and it really hadn’t stood out in Rachael’s mind. It was only now, standing in front of it, that Rachael finally realized what it was that helped it blend in so well. The building was strangely unornamented on the outside, a far cry from the design that had gone into the American embassy, and when they walked through the front doors, into a small crowd of people, she couldn’t help but notice that the inside was just as plain.

Jaron made a path for them through the main antechamber and into the main forum. It was enormous, easily rivaling the football stadiums on Earth.

“Holy shit, this place is huge!” Rachael exclaimed. The room was huge. No, it was beyond huge. Jaron turned and gave her an odd look, but he didn’t stop walking until they were at the main stage on the lower floor. There were several tables, stacked with gear that the Ambassador’s men had secured from the crash site. Rachael and Michael immediately began checking to see what was there and what was missing. The surveying gear had made it, along with most of the electronics. Rachael grinned across the table at Michael when she found the portable communicators.

“Now I don’t have to worry about stealing any old relic. I can boost these things easy with a better battery and a better antenna.” She started to rummage through the supplies again, setting aside what she thought she’d need. Without even thinking about it, she pulled out a well worn pencil and started jotting notes down in one of her pocket notebooks. When Michael tugged on her sleeve, she just brushed him aside and kept working. It wasn’t until Jaron cleared his throat right in her ear that she stopped and looked up.

“What is it now?” she demanded.

“You’re up,” Jaron said. He nodded his head and gestured at their surroundings with one hand. Rachael looked around her in alarm. In the short amount of time that she’d had to get lost in her work, the place had filled to capacity, and she could see more people standing in the aisles. It was eerie how quiet they were too, even the kids, and they were all staring at her. She walked to the podium in a daze. The ambassador was waiting for her. He’d apparently already introduced her, and she wished she could remember what he’d said. She felt a little self-conscious, considering the outfit she was wearing. In talks like the one she was preparing to give, she preferred to wear something a little more familiar, like a pair of coveralls or a uniform. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. I can do this, she told herself. I’ll just handle it like I would any mission briefing.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” she began. “Just two short weeks ago, my team and I were sent to this solar system as part of a routine mission for the U.S. Army Surveying Team. We collect and catalog data about newly discovered planets in a government database, meant to allow future generations to find planets that might be suitable to harboring life. Some of our colleagues in years gone past have already found signs of life on three planets, but none of it met any criteria that might label it as intelligent. Because of the extensive cloud cover surrounding this planet, previous teams had been unable to acquire as much data as we’d like. Our team was equipped with more sensitive instruments and given permission to attempt a lower orbit around the planet. If all went well, we would be granted ground clearance and allowed to conduct a first run series of surveying exercises. Unfortunately, that same cloud cover had apparently obscured some debris orbiting this planet, and when that debris made contact with our space shuttle, we were forced to make an emergency landing. Out of our original team of five, only Michael and I survived.” She tried to muster up the words to continue, but as the memories came back to her, the shock of it made her speechless. The Ambassador laid his hand gently on her shoulder and continued where she had left off.

“I don’t think I need to explain to anyone here why Rachael and Michael’s arrival, while marked with tragedy, is an auspicious one for those of us here on New Earth. Here at last is the proof we’ve been looking for, that Earth is still alive and well, even after all these years. Let us set aside these age old arguments and reunite with the home of our ancestors.”

“The big announcement is tonight, you realize that, right?” Michael asked. After eating breakfast, the cook had shooed them out of the way so that the staff could begin the process of readying the last bit of decoration and preparation for the big dance that night. They’d retreated to Rachael’s suite, which was outfitted with an old fashioned but perfectly serviceable sitting room.

“Sure, sure, I know. Big gala, everyone chit chats, Ambassador Delamere makes a big splash, we get some free publicity.”

“Rachael, this is serious business. You have no idea how most of these people are going to react.”

After a whirlwind week of touring every possible nook and cranny of New Leningrad, Rachael was ready to move on to Columbia District or catch a flight home. This really hadn’t been her thing, not this supposed “vacation” on New Earth. Everyone was so busy, and there were so many people that she was supposed to remember. She didn’t want to tell Michael, but she was still having nightmares about the crash, at least once a night. She’d started to accept that she really had done the best she could. Keeping herself busy had certainly helped, but she couldn’t shake the guilt, not entirely, not this soon.

“I’m really not having a great time right now,” Rachael confessed. “Between the local politicians trying to wrangle with us, Jaron, or the Ambassador himself, trying to find out who we are and where we came from, and all the people pressing in on me in the streets, I don’t know how much more of this I can take, you know?”

“Let’s talk about something else then. Tell me about your childhood,” Michael said gently. “I’m curious. What exactly does a young girl growing up on Mars do, anyway? I’m still trying to figure out how you ended up where you did.”

“You mean, how’d I get in the army surveying team in the first place. Well, I explained that part.”

“Yes, I know. You explained how you couldn’t find a job with anyone else, because of your degree. But I’m wondering why you picked mechanical engineering in the first place. Don’t get me wrong, but considering what your parents did with their lives, what your brother was about to become…”

“I’ll be blunt with you. I’m the screw up. You knew of my parents, yes? Don’t lie to me, I know you must have read some of their papers. They were famous for their work, and I know you’re really into that sort of stuff.”

“Even for such a small field, they really did stand out among the rest,” Michael admitted. “Yes, I knew about their work. A lot of their theories were brilliant, not just in and of themselves, but the small details in how they suggested that they be implemented in real life. It’s no surprise that they had such success on Mars.”

“Without them, Mars still wouldn’t have an atmosphere at all,” Rachael said quietly. “And the base would have never lasted that long or become self sufficient so quickly after being founded.”

“But seriously, what did you do as a kid? I want to hear about you. Not your parents—though I wouldn’t mind an autograph—and not your supposedly genius brother.”

“He’s not actually a genius,” Rachael protested.

“You’re missing the point.”

“Oh, fine,” Rachael said. She glanced down at her hands. She’d unwittingly clenched them into fists until they were white with the strain. It took her a few minutes to force herself to relax and let go. Talking about her parents had that effect on her anymore. “My brother Tom was born on Earth. It wasn’t long after he was born that the Mars colony project really got under way. It was the first time they had ever asked for volunteers to actually live there year round. I mean, in the past, it’d just been teams of scientists sent up in rotation, you know? So my parents definitely wanted in, and since there weren’t many people that had begun to specialize in terraforming just yet, they got accepted right away, even with an infant son. Until I was born a year later, Tom was the first kid to live on Mars. I was the first kid to be conceived and born on Mars.”

“That was you?” Michael asked in shock. “They never mentioned you by name in the textbooks or the news reports.”

“Yeah, my parents got it into their heads that they didn’t want our privacy invaded or anything. It was easy enough to stay out of sight when you’re thousands of miles from Earth, you know? There was a bit of backlash about it at the time. Some parents back on Earth thought it was a cruel thing to do to a kid, leaving them all alone up there, but it wasn’t that bad. I had Tom for company, and later on, more kids were born or brought up on space shuttles. All the adults took turns babysitting us. It was like one big extended family.”

“So how did you end up picking mechanical engineering in the first place? I mean, obviously, by growing up on the colony on Mars, you were surrounded by a slew of scientists and engineers. Why not science? What drew you in to engineering specifically?”

“Hard to say how it started exactly. I had my fair share of hobbies growing up, just like any other kid my age. Painting, playing guitar music, writing bad poetry…”

Michael grinned. “I think everyone goes through a bad poetry stage in life. You either read it or you write it.”

Rachael grinned back. “True enough. Still, I was always the one taking things apart to try and figure out how they worked. I had some mixed success. Sometimes I’d rebuild what I found, or try to fix it. When I did succeed, everyone in the colony would tell my parents how talented I was, how I was sure to go far and accomplish great things. The praise only lasted until my next flop, though I do admit that some of those early failures were pretty spectacular. Either way, I kept myself entertained, and I got a bit of a reputation as a mechanical prodigy.”

Michael cocked one eyebrow at her, but he didn’t try to interrupt. Plenty of time to dig out the dirt on what she’d been up to later.

“As I got older, there was a lot of pressure on me to pick something and go with it. I’m sure it was the same for you, but in today’s world, you only have until high school to land on a field. Obviously, I picked my strongest area, engineering. Not that many careers open for bad poets, you know? At first, my parents were really excited for me. They wanted me to go into some sort of engineering design major. It’s a little bit of an older field, but there’s still lots of jobs that call for it. Of course, you have to specialize in what it is you want to make. Did I want to make scientific instruments? Industrial equipment? Space craft or robotics? I wanted to pick something that I’d be really good at, something that would make my parents proud. It didn’t help that my brother was already well on his way to graduating with honors in his field. The whole experience was nerve wracking, and my eventual decision to go with mechanical engineering was the source of far too many fights with my parents. They thought I was just being lazy. I don’t talk to them much anymore.”

“Wow, forget I brought it up,” Michael said. “I didn’t mean to bring back any bad memories.”

Rachael dismissed his words with a wave of her hand. “Oh, it’s all right,” she said. “It gets easier to deal with just talking about it. I figure I have three options. I can try to prove to my parents that mechanical engineering is actually a worthwhile field in its own right, I can give in and pick another major, or I can just accept the fact that my parents are never going to accept me for who I am.”

“What jerks. Forget I ever asked about getting an autograph, then. I had no idea that it could be that rough. I guess I was lucky. After all, I knew what I wanted to do most of my life. I was fascinated by the videos and pictures I saw of Earth, with rolling green hills and endless acres of trees. The only thing we had growing on the jump gate were the usual hydroponics. I’d love to find a way to create terrariums in space someday, when my tour is up.”

“So that’s what you do with a degree in xenobiology,” Rachael murmured. “You little sneak. You had me thinking that you were in it for the space germs.”

“You ever visit Earth?” Michael asked. “I forget if I asked you that before.”

“No, I did everything long distance. There really wasn’t any reason for me to go there in person. My brother did, though. There’s not much good you can do right now on Mars with a degree in marine bio engineering. Maybe he’ll be back in a few years when there’s a few lakes for him to splash around in.”

“How do you and your brother get along?” Michael asked. “Or is that a sore subject too?”

“Actually, my brother and I get along great. His track record in school intimidated me growing up, but we were pretty close friends. Still are, actually. We’ve made a point of keeping in touch, even after he headed down to Earth.” Suddenly, Rachael’s eyes widened. “Shit, he’s going to freak when he hears that we’ve gone missing.”

“I hadn’t really thought of that, myself,” Michael admitted. “I was kind of hoping that someone would have sent in a search party by now. It’s been two weeks. Maybe the cloud cover is making them extra cautious. After all, before we crashed, there was no telling what the surface was going to be like.”

“Well, we’ve already been planning for the worst all along. We’ll just keep on with that. Let’s just hope that they haven’t completely given up already. I doubt we’ll have enough radio power to get to the first repeater.”

Michael grimaced. “That’s not really what I want to hear right now.”

Rachael just shrugged. “Sorry.” She glanced down at her watch. “Wow, I’ve only got a few hours left to get ready before the first guests arrive.”

“It’s seriously going to take that long just to get dressed?”

“Have you ever been to a dance like this before?” Rachael asked.

“No, have you?” Michael shot back.

“Well, no,” Rachael admitted. “But seriously, I have a hair and makeup appointment, followed by a quick visit to the local tailor to pick up my dress.”

Michael looked at her blankly. “You actually want to do all that?”

“Maybe not all the time, but it could be fun to give it a try just this once. I might not have another opportunity like this for a while yet. Don’t worry about feeling left out. I made sure that Jaron saw to it that you have a nice outfit as well. A three piece suit, imagine that.”

There was a light rap on the door just then, interrupting Michael before he could protest this new and unexpected development.

“Come in,” Rachael sang out.

The door opened a crack and Jaron’s face popped in.

“Ready to go, ma’am?” he asked.

“Wait, I’ve seriously confused. What do I do now?” Michael asked in alarm.

“I’ll be right there, Jaron. Relax, Michael, you’ll figure it out. After all, the only thing you need to do is show up on time, clean and presentable, and wearing your new suit.” She got up out of the armchair she’d been sprawled out in and walked to the door. After one last parting wave, she was gone.

“Great,” Michael muttered. “Just great.” Playing host to a party in full formal dress wasn’t exactly in a xenobiologist’s job description—not that he really had any clue what it should be. Still, if he wasn’t careful, he’d find himself stuck in New Leningrad playing politics for life as the first ambassador from Earth.

Once he was sure that Rachael had left the suite, he got up and made his way out into the corridor and down the hall to his own room. Not much point in putting off the inevitable, not with Rachael to make sure he did what he was told.

The next morning, Rachael and Michael were enjoying a private breakfast when Jaron arrived, out of breath. “I found one!” he said.

Rachael and Michael exchanged glances. “Found what?” Rachael asked at last.

“A radio! A real one, anyway.”

“Well, where is it?” Michael asked.

“It’s at the temple here in the city. As far as I can tell, it could be the twin of the one I saw back in Columbia District.”

“Well, how do we get access to it?” Michael asked.

“It’s under a glass display in the lobby. It’ll be easy enough to get close enough to take a look for yourself, but I don’t see that the temple would let it go that easily.”

“Well, maybe we can make a bargain,” Rachael said. “After all, some of the items that will be arriving shortly might fit the bill.”

Jaron looked unconvinced. “It’s not the value of the item that matters. It’s a part of our history.”

“Fair enough,” Rachael said. “But under the circumstances, perhaps it won’t even have to get that far. After all, Michael and I are only interested if the radio still works, as unlikely as that may be.” She shrugged. “I bet I could fix it with the right parts.”

Jaron looked out the window onto the street. “Well, we could probably fit in a visit once you’re finished breakfast.”

“Don’t want to disrupt that schedule of yours,” Rachael said. “So, what did you have planned for us today?”

“Well, with only two days left, I thought we’d start with the museum attached to the temple. That’s how I found the radio, actually, since I’d been over there this morning making the appropriate arrangements. The museum is closed to the general public right now,” he explained. Later on, I thought I’d give you a chance to sample some of the local cuisine, maybe see some of the historic buildings around the city.”

Rachael dropped her napkin on her plate and pushed herself back from the table. “Well, I’m ready to get started.”

Michael sipped his drink, some sort of tea like substance. “Well, at least let me finish my breakfast,” he complained between sips.

“Well, hurry up,” Rachael complained. She leaned back in her chair and let her arms hang down over the side. After a moment, she grabbed her uneaten muffin and held it up towards Jaron. “Want a muffin?”

“Err, no thanks,” Jaron said. “I already ate.”

Rachael contemplated the muffin for a moment and glanced over at Michael’s plate. He still had a while to go. She took a bite. “Mmm, this is actually pretty good. Jaron, you really need to try this.”

Jaron waved her off before she could try again. “No, really, it’s all right.”

Michael took one last bite and leaned back in his chair. “Well, I’m done now.”

“Finally!” Rachael said. She polished off the muffin with one last bite and sprung to her feet. “Well, let’s move on out, soldier. We haven’t got all day.”

“Yes sir,” Michael said.

The temple was an extravagant affair of glass and steel, much like the rest of the city, but where a church on Earth might have had a steeple or some sort of bell tower, the temple was built to fit a wide expanse and keep a low profile. In some ways, it almost reminded Rachael of pictures she’d seen of temples from prehistoric times on Earth. Still, the overall effect impressed her very much.

“You wouldn’t know it from looking at these buildings that this city almost starved to death just fifty short years ago. That’s the reason why it’s still too empty. That and the Russians’ stupid pride. They wouldn’t accept any help from the American settlements.”

Rachael looked at Jaron sharply. “What? As recently as that? How did that happen?”

“It was a blight on the crops. Pretty common, actually, but this one was particularly bad. It took out the entire city’s supply of food, just like that. There aren’t that many crops that grow around here. The soil is very poor, when you can find it at all for all the rocks in it, and the plants that the settlers brought were meant for direct sunlight.” He glanced up at the ever present cloud cover far above their heads. “I don’t even know what sunlight is supposed to be like. Supposedly, it’s brighter than any electric lights we’ve come up with to date.”

“By a fairly significant margin,” Michael chimed in. “Try imagining all the lights you’ve ever seen together in one room. It’d be brighter than that on a sunny day.”

“You must be doing something right,” Rachael added. “After all, we saw an entire forest not far from where we crashed.”

“And a lot of moss, perhaps even some lichen,” Michael said. “That’s exactly what you need to create more soil.”

Jaron dismissed their words with a wave of his hand. “That’s the sort of thing that takes centuries of work. For all the fancy toys that they brought with them, the settlers really missed out on a lot of the essentials, I guess. Well, ready to go in?”

“Sure,” Rachael said slowly. She glanced around her. Here and there in the courtyard, she could see clusters of people of all ages. “Do we have to wait for a service to start or something?” she asked, gesturing at the others around them. “These people look like they’re waiting for something.”

“No, admission during the day is open to the entire public. Follow me, and copy what I do and you’ll fit right in.” Jaron motioned for them to follow him. He walked across the courtyard, climbed the front stairs, and disappeared into the main entrance. The two of them followed close behind.

When Rachael saw the interior of the building, her jaw dropped. She had thought the embassy house was extravagantly decorated, almost gaudy. This was three times worse. “You certainly like to decorate with gold,” she said at last. The room positively shone under all the gold leaf that had been applied to nearly every visible surface.

“Well, gold is a fairly popular way to decorate around here. It’s the same back in Columbia District.”

“Where do you get it all?” Rachael persisted.

Jaron stared at her. “Out of the ground?” he suggested.

“Gold isn’t that common back on Earth,” Michael explained. “It’s considered to be pretty valuable. Seeing this much at once, well, it’s a bit of a shock.”

Jaron smiled. “I understand, then. Gold isn’t very durable, so it’s not held in particularly high regard. Here, come this way. I’ll show you the display with the radio.”

He took them past the main antechamber and into a proper lobby. “The radio is in here,” he said.

Michael and Rachael hunched down in front of a small display to take a look.

“Wow, it’s a 20 meter high frequency receiver,” Rachael exclaimed. She bent in closer, her face practically on the glass.

“Well?” Michael asked. He straightened back up and stretched his back.

Rachael jerked back and glanced up at him. “Oh, sorry. These things are actually pretty simple inside. I had to build one from scratch as part of a project back in college. If the parts are intact at all, it’ll be easy to repair and get working again. Hell, it might still be working now. We’ll need a power source, though.” She trailed off in thought, already making plans.

Michael pulled out Rachael’s data tablet and turned it over in his hands. “Could you cannibalize something like this?” he asked, holding it out for her to inspect.

“Yeah, probably,” Rachael said, brightening up at the thought. A moment later, she frowned. “Well, no, it wouldn’t be strong enough to reach space, even if we got above the cloud cover.” She paused again. “Oh, wait, I have an idea!”

“What?”

“We have some pretty hefty batteries to power some of the surveying gear, right?”

“Yes, we do, and yes, you can take it apart and scavenge the parts.”

“Thanks, Michael, you’re the best!” Rachael gave Michael a quick hug and turned to Jaron. “So, how do I go about taking this radio home with us?”

Jaron was clearly unprepared to answer her, just as it was clear that he wasn’t doing such a great job keeping up with the conversation at all. “Well, uh, I don’t know exactly. I guess we can ask about it?”

“Ask about what?” a woman asked. They all turned to see who it was. To their surprise, it was Alesia de Winters.

“Madam Secretary, what a surprise,” Jaron said warmly.

Alesia inclined her head in his direction, but her real attention was on Rachael.

“What are you planning to do there…Rachael is it? You can hardly expect to just pick that case up and walk out of here with it.”

“We were only expressing our admiration for the temple’s collection of artifacts,” Michael intervened smoothly. “I’m surprised to see you here, myself. I wasn’t aware that you were that pious.”

Alesia flashed him a small smile. “Why, I’m here with my husband, of course. Perhaps I could arrange an introduction?” She glanced over at Jaron. “That is, if Jaron will allow me to do so? Perhaps you are too busy, after all.”

“Another time,” Jaron said quickly. His smile faltered a little. “We really must be going, Alesia.”

“Jaron,” Alesia said. She inclined her head and Jaron turned in place to leave. He backtracked to the courtyard at a brisk pace, forcing Rachael and Michael to hurry to keep up with him.

“What was that about?” Rachael asked once they had gotten back to the courtyard. “I wasn’t going to do anything stupid, if that’s what you were worried about. Funny thing, running into her again so soon.”

“It wasn’t a coincidence, if that’s what you mean,” Jaron said. “Like I said yesterday, she keeps on top of things. I just wish I knew how much she overheard while we were standing there. She wouldn’t overtly cause any of us harm, but the General Secretary is not a nice man and his lady love has been known to play games with people.”

“Well, that certainly wasn’t at all suspicious, walking away so fast,” Rachael muttered. “What next, do we leave her notes on her pillow?”

“Don’t worry about Alesia. I meant to give you a full tour of the temple, but that’s going to have to wait. What do you say to a tour of some of the other smaller temples here in the city? There are seven temples in all in New Leningrad, for the Seven Virtues.”

“Do any of the others have twenty meter high frequency receivers?” Rachael asked. She flashed Jaron a wistful smile and melted into his side.

Jaron looked down at Rachael with a certain amount of dismay. “Err, no. I don’t believe so. I’ll speak with the Ambassador. He might be able to arrange something.”

“You mean steal it,” Michael said.

“I mean arrange something,” Jaron said pointedly. He glanced over at Rachael. “So until I talk to him about it, you stay clear of it, all right?”

“All right, I promise,” Rachael said. She sighed, but she straightened back up and readjusted her shirt.

“Why don’t you give us that tour now? We have most of the day left in front of us, don’t we?” Michael asked.

“Yes, of course. The nearest one to us is the Temple of Charity. It’s one of the largest ones.”

“Is there another name for the temple we were just in?”

“Well, many years ago, it was christened the Temple of Justice, largely because they used to hold trials there. That practice has largely ceased, since there are local court houses in most cities and towns now.”

“The Temple of Justice. Huh,” Rachael said. “Well, lead on to the Temple of Charity then. The sooner we get through this little whirlwind tour, the sooner I get to enjoy some more of your local cuisine.”

The first stop on their promised tour was the official government museum in town. It was part of a series of four. Two were government run, one by the Americans and one by the Russians. The second two were run by the Orthodox. If there was a museum for the Flock somewhere, they weren’t broadcasting its existence. It was fascinating to see what had survived the trip from Earth and what the people had decided was worth saving after all these years. The signs for the exhibits at this particular museum were written in Cyrillic, but the guide that Ambassador Delamere had provided, the same official they had seen the day before in the Ambassador’s office, was apparently fluent in both the written and spoken forms of whatever dialect of Russian was spoken here. He was polite, appropriately deferential, and clearly well educated on the history of their planet and that of Earth. In fact, just about everyone on this planet seemed to know their history pretty well, a side effect, perhaps, of basing their religion around their origins. They had been having such a good time all morning that it had taken a few hours before Rachael and Michael realized that Peter was nowhere to be seen. When Rachael had finally worked up the courage to ask after him, they learned from their new guide that Peter had gone home to his family and the village he’d left behind, Dresiwick.

“Oh, parting is such sweet sorrow,” Michael murmured under his breath upon hearing the news.

“Shut up, he wasn’t that bad,” Rachael told him in a loud voice. Several people turned to stare at them, apparently unused to such spirited interruptions. It was enough to make Rachael very thankful that the majority of the people in the city didn’t speak English very well. Then again, it seemed that ordinary folk didn’t visit these museums—that privilege was largely restricted to the devout—so it was probably best if she tried to keep her mouth shut. Fortunately, their new guide must have looked sufficiently embarrassed and apologetic for the three of them, because the staff looked the other way and resumed their business of giving tours and taking care of their aging exhibits.

“It’s expected that Americans can be a little rowdy, so they’ll let this one slide without much attention, but please try to maintain the proper attitude of respect. You can copy my manner or that of the other visitors,” their guide told them in a quiet voice. “I’d rather not have to explain your presence unduly soon. Ambassador Delamere is hoping to announce your arrival at the banquet he is holding next Thursday; that’s nearly a week from today. By then, he should have been able to retrieve certain artifacts from your ship that should persuade all but the most stubborn of detractors.”

The day before, the ambassador had convinced them that it would be best if they could back up their claims about where they were from, but rather than make the two of them hike back to their ship, he’d made his own arrangements to have men dispatched to pick up items that would support their case. After all, Rachael and Michael were serving as ambassadors themselves, even if it wasn’t official yet, and while Ambassador Delamere and the people of Dresiwick had been willing to believe their story right away, it was clear that not everyone would be won over so easily. To prevent anyone from actually accusing them of telling lies (or worse, of suffering from some mental ailment), it was best to be prepared for any doubters that came their way. That left Rachael and Michael adrift in the city with little to do and too much time on their hands. What’s-his-name, their guide, was a godsend, really. He’d already laid out a full schedule of sightseeing and exploration for them to follow for days to come.

The ambassador had made the arrangements himself. There would be no need for either of them to actually revisit the ship in person. After that, they’d been left in what’s-his-name’s hands, the official that had been so helpful to them all morning.

In a quieter tone, Rachael asked, “I’m sorry, this is going to sound so rude, but I don’t believe I caught your name. I just keep thinking of you as ‘that guy.’”

Their guide smiled. “Jaron Wilcox, ma’am.”

“Glad to meet you Jaron. I’m Rachael,” she said.

“I, uh, figured that one out. Ma’am.”

“Just call me Rachael.” She glanced at Michael and nodded significantly in Jaron’s direction.

“What do you want?” Michael mouthed at her.

Rachael just jerked her head a little harder.

“Oh. Right. You can call me Michael,” Michael said.

Rachael rolled her eyes and tucked her arm in Jaron’s. “You’ve been so very helpful all morning. Why don’t you tell me where you keep the good stuff? Know what a radio is? How about some computers?”

Jaron flushed very slightly and sagged a little at her touch. Michael had to smile at the man’s reaction. He was clearly trying to resolve his impressions of Rachael with what he had been told to expect. Having known Rachael for a few weeks now, Michael was already pretty sure that no one would ever be entirely prepared to have to deal with her.

“Well, sure,” Michael was saying, “I mean, I know what a radio looks like. There’s one in this exhibit, actually, but it’s near the back of the room.” He escorted her in the right direction, demonstrating what was what through the glass with his free arm. To the people of New Earth, this was the stuff of the future, the future that had been taken from them when they had to flee a dying planet. To Rachael and Michael, it was a walk into the distant past. They were in a warehouse full of antiques.

Rachael finally saw what Jaron was trying to show her. The designs on the side were unmistakable, even after centuries of rust. It was a child’s toy.

“Ah, do you have anything two way?” Rachael asked. Jaron shrugged his shoulders, so she tried again. “A radio that can broadcast signals, maybe?”

“It would have a bigger antenna,” Michael cut in smoothly, gesturing at the thin wire that was clearly sticking up out of the radio on display.

“Oh, I see.” Jaron scratched his head absently and stared off into space. After several long minutes, just when Rachael was prepared to interrupt, he stood up straight and smiled. “Of course, I remember now. There’s something like that in the temple.” Before anyone could say anything, his face fell again. “But that was in Columbia District.”

“Well, we’ll just have to visit there, won’t we, Rachael?” Michael said.

“You’ll take us there won’t you, Jaron?” Rachael asked.

“I guess I could. After the big announcement, of course.”

“Oh, of course,” Rachael said slowly. She had managed to forget about that detail. She disentangled herself from Jaron and managed to get a few steps away from him, closer to Michael. “Shoot, I forgot about that. What do we do now?”

“We stay put. Duh. Consider it our payment for services rendered and hope neither of us get killed in the process. I would have thought you’d be thrilled to spend some free time with Jaron, seeing the sights.”

Rachael just looked confused. When Michael didn’t elaborate, she turned back to Jaron, clasping his shoulder warmly in one hand. “So tell me, what’s this little sign say over here?” she asked, gesturing at yet another one of the indecipherable signs. Michael stayed back a few feet, trying to blend in among the others in the room.

“Excuse me, but I couldn’t help but notice that I don’t recognize either you or your young wife,” a woman’s voice said in his ear. Michael turned to face the woman, startled at the interruption. The person that had caught his attention was a mild manner woman not very much older than himself. He relaxed immediately.

“No, I’m sorry, you’re mistaken. We’re coworkers. That’s not my wife,” Michael explained. It came out a bit jumbled, and he hoped that it wasn’t coming off as too awkward.

The woman just raised one eyebrow. “It’s just as well, then, seeing as how cozy she seems to have gotten with Jaron already.” Even in the short time since she had come up behind him, Rachael had somehow gotten her arm wrapped around a very nervous Jaron. “Is she really that oblivious to his reaction?”

“Ah, Rachael’s a bit of an innocent in some ways. I haven’t actually known her for very long, but I’m starting to guess that she may have broken a few hearts along the way.”

“You’re staying at the Ambassador’s palace, I take it?” the woman asked. Her tone was light, with just the barest trace of the local Russian accent, but the look in her eye was dead serious. Ah, politics, Michael thought.

“Why, are you also guesting there?”

The woman laughed. “No, but let’s just say that I have my sources. Sadly, they weren’t able to uncover all the mysteries of your arrival. Are you or, Earth help us, your friend here just to work for the Ambassador or is he finally up for replacement?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Michael said, taking care to keep his tone light.

“I can see that I won’t get anywhere this way. Let’s start over and try again, shall we? I’m Alesia de Winters, Secretary of the Interior for the Party Congress.”

Michael smiled. “That woman you see over there is my commanding officer, Rachael Carr. I’m Michael Rhys,” he said, sticking his hand out as he did so. After a moment, Alesia held out her own hand and shook his.

“I had almost forgotten the infamous American informality. It’s been such a long time since I last visited your capitol. I can’t quite seem to place your accent.”

Michael saw the hint and ignored it, choosing to smile blandly at her.

“Well, I can’t have everything my way, or there will be nothing to look forward to uncovering later,” Alesia mused aloud.

“It seems like just about everyone here could be working for the party congress,” Michael said, looking around at the others in the room. “How many are in your party?”

“Oh, just about everyone here, I’d say. It’s frightfully boring, really, but the General Secretary says that we must pay tribute to our origins.”

“The General Secretary? Truly?” Michael asked. He glanced around the room, trying to pick out the appropriate target. His love of history was paying off in spades this week. He’d recognized the terms immediately. Communism was apparently very much alive and well here, though there was no telling what form it took after all those years.

Alesia laughed aloud. “Oh, no, he’s not here. He sends a group of us every week to represent him. He’s far too busy to put in an actual appearance.” She glanced past him and smiled. “Looks like your friend has finally decided to free Jaron. I won’t keep you any longer.” She walked back to her group, pausing only once to give Michael a little wave over one shoulder.

“What was that about?” Rachael asked.

“Some crazy Russian,” Michael told her. “Politics never changes, you know?”

“That was the second highest ranking politician in all of Russia,” Jaron said in hushed tones. “She makes it a point to know everyone and everything that goes on in her city.”

“Who’s the top one then?”

“Her husband, the General Secretary,” Jaron said in a flat voice. “Let’s just say that you shouldn’t let yourself be seen getting too friendly with Comrade Alesia, all right? He might take it the wrong way.”

“She knew who you were,” Michael told him.

“I’m not surprised. She married my brother first, back when she was an immigrant brat growing up in Columbia District. Where do you think I learned all this Russian? She and her mother used to teach me, in exchange for English lessons. We don’t teach our kids each other’s languages around here. It’s some stupid point of pride, to keep the cultures separate.”

“That’s so dumb,” Rachael blurted out.

Jaron shrugged. “Job security.” He seemed to feel that it explained it all. Perhaps it did.

Peter led them all the way up to the top floor, up all five flights of stairs. It was tiring work, but Rachael kept her mouth shut. No point in complaining now. At the end of the hallway, Peter stopped at a simple door. He opened it and gestured for Rachael and Michael to enter. Once they’d stepped through, Peter remained in the hallway and closed the door, leaving them alone in a darkened room. Well, not quite alone.

“Turn up that light,” a voice ordered. The lights brightened immediately. There was a man sitting at a desk. Next to him was a woman who was clearly meant to be his secretary, with a clipboard held under a tucked arm and a pen playing across her fingers. Almost out of sight along the wall just inside the door was the man who had apparently turned up the lights. From his official clothing, he was clearly an employee or official of some sort, Rachael decided.

“I assume that you’re the ambassador,” Rachael told the man that was seated in front of them. “Mr. Delamere?”

“Yes, that’s correct. Why don’t the two of you take a seat?” He gestured at two chairs that had been pulled close to his desk. Rachael and Michael did as they were told and waited for him to continue.

“Peter tells me that you’re from Earth, that you’re the cause of the fire that lit the sky just a few days past. Our high priests have been consulting the holy tomes to interpret its meaning. Apparently, the explanation is simpler than anyone thought.” He laughed aloud. “Please don’t take offense, but I find the whole lot of them a stuffy nuisance.” The man and woman by his side froze and discretely crossed themselves in some strange pattern.

Rachael frowned. He was describing the crash, hardly something to laugh about. “Yes, that’s correct. Your people saw the trail that our shuttle craft made, coming through the atmosphere. We did not have an easy journey. We were not alone when we broke through the clouds, but we are the sole survivors.”

The ambassador was clearly startled. “I have heard nothing of this from Peter. My condolences for your loss. If I’ve read my history correctly, our own people did not fare much better when we came to New Earth so many years ago. This atmosphere does not lend itself well to smooth landings or takeoffs.”

Rachael took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. It was a strange omission for Peter to have made. Unless, of course, Peter had gotten it into his head that no one from Earth could have possibly botched the journey. Of course, what that man retained or didn’t would be well worth a study someday. He seemed to conveniently forget anything that didn’t fit into his world view.

Washington eyed the two of them. After a moment, he whispered something to his secretary. She got to her feet, carefully placing her clipboard on her chair. She walked out through a side door, stopping only to whisper in the ear of the other man lurking behind their backs. He followed her out. Soon, it was just the ambassador left to entertain the two of them.

“Now, I don’t believe for a minute that either of you have a spark of divinity in you, but I might as well warn you now, not believing in the superior nature of Earth and its creatures is akin to atheism around here. Fine, I’m an atheist. It’s not something I’d admit freely outside these walls, either, since doing so would mark me for jail time or worse, despite my high position. I’m trusting you with this so that you’ll know I’m serious. Tell me the whole story of why you’re here.”

Rachael and Michael took turns explaining their circumstances, the history of the army surveying team, the reason why they’d chosen this planet to survey, and the circumstances that had led to the crash landing. When they’d finished, the ambassador leaned back in his chair and stared at some unseen spot on the wall past their shoulders.

“Obviously, you want to get back home. I might be able to help with that. Your idea about the radio, Rachael, that sounds like a good one, but it’ll take some doing. Not much survived the early years, and the artifacts in the best shape are kept under close watch. You’ll have to steal them somehow.” When he saw her start at the words, he smiled. “I have my share of eavesdropping devices in this place. There’s a mountain range not far into American territory. The tallest peak breaks through the cloud cover all right, but there’s not much air to breathe up there.”

“That won’t be a problem for me,” Rachael said. “I’ve been trained in how to handle that sort of situation. Life on Mars is never certain.”

Washington shook his head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe that humans have found a way to live in space or terraform entire planets. Science really has come a long way since we left. Our people have been left behind. I don’t see what we’ll be able to offer Earth when we’re reunited.”

“Well,” Michael said, “there is one thing. Did your people keep records of how they were able to accomplish faster than light travel?”

“I suppose so,” Washington said. “I mean, we still have the original ships. They’re rusted beyond any hope of repair, but they haven’t fallen apart completely yet. I’m sure your scientists can investigate them further and figure out how to replicate the design, if need be. I wouldn’t know how they worked, myself.”

“Your people really are pack rats, aren’t they?” Rachael asked with a laugh. She remembered who she was talking to too late and covered her mouth with her hands. “Err, they sure do love to hold onto the past, don’t they?” she asked, trying again.

Washington didn’t seem to mind what Rachael had said. “I suppose we are, after a fashion. At first, I’m sure they were just afraid to get rid of anything that they might need later, in case something happened that would make them leave in a hurry. Unfortunately, after time, we’ve forgotten what most of the devices are meant to do. Our records explain what most of the stuff used to be and what it was used for, but little of it works.”

“The most careful plots, laid to waste by a lack of education, documentation and a respect for history,” Michael told Rachael. Rachael flushed, but she kept her mouth shut. The only excuses she had would just sound like amateur whining.

“Any chances that we could see the sacred tomes that everyone keeps talking about?” Rachael asked instead. “It might help when Earth makes formal contact. It might give us a better idea of what makes your planet tick.”

“I don’t see the harm in it myself, but you’ll have to take that up with the high priests here in the city.” Washington scowled. “The Flock got their hands on them. They’re not going to accept you without a fight.”

“Peter mentioned a Schism, but I didn’t really get it,” Michael said. “What happened?”

“It’s stupid. There were a lot of fights in the early days. Everyone wanted to know why the other Seed ships hadn’t followed us. We’d had to split our supplies, you see, and we were depending on those reinforcements. Learning to make do without them was hard work. I can’t tell you how close we came to starving when we realized that most of our crops were just not going to grow in such poor light and under such harsh conditions. Two groups emerged from that wreckage. The majority decided that the Seed ships had found other planets to colonize, or that Earth had somehow gotten its act together in time. The rest took a more…fatalistic view. Earth had been destroyed, along with the unlaunched Seed ships. No hope of reunification, and no hope of going back. That fateful split was what actually started most of our Earth worship. See, hope is a funny thing. Over time, it became a sort of driving spiritual force. That, or the lack of it. From what I can see, it snowballed from there.” He smiled. “Yes, I know a little about the religions of Earth. You won’t find many traces of them around here, though. You also won’t catch most of the locals admitting that their Earth worship is a real religion, but the fact remains that it is, for all practical purposes.”

“So what’s the Great Harvest, then?” Rachael asked.

Washington’s smile faded somewhat. “According to the Orthodox, it’s the day that we’re reunited with Earth. Or the other Seeds. To them, it’s just a bit of poetic imagery and a play on words. For the Flock, it’s the day when the evil that destroyed Earth catches up with us and destroys us all.” He sighed. “I swear, those people actually look happy when one of the mold plagues hits us hard. There’s no proof of it, but at least some of us believe that the Flock might have actually deliberately spread a few of the worst of those plagues.”

“That’s a fairly serious charge to levy against them,” Michael said. He glanced from Rachael to Washington to see what their reaction would be.

“You obviously haven’t met any yet, though I can’t say as how I’m surprised. After all, they don’t care much for the peace and quiet of village life. They’re too busy plotting ways to make the rest of us miserable.” Washington sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I really should watch what I say. As the years go by and we don’t hear from Earth, their numbers continue to grow. Just stay away from them, alright? It’s not a far leap for them to have to make, from denying your existence to deciding that you were better off, well, not existing.”

“A similar thought had occurred to us,” Michael said in a flat tone.

“There’s one thing that I’m dying to know the answer to,” Rachael interrupted. “How did an atheist, as you put it, get such a high position?”

“I’m just a realist. If there’s a divine power out there, it’s not you guys, no offense.” He broke into a broad smile. “In any case, I like to think that my more practical attitude helps me do my job, keeping the peace. If I choose not to broadcast that publicly, it’s just a matter of common sense. No use riling anyone up.”

“I think we’re going to get along just fine,” Michael said with a smile.

“Where does everyone stand?” Rachael asked. “Politically, I mean. You have the Americans and the Russians. The Orthodox and the Flock. How’s it all fit together?”

“The American/Russian debate is pretty much dead in the water. As a point of pride, we rarely bother to learn each other’s languages or attempt to assimilate each other’s cultures, but we’re not really at each other’s throats like we would have been back on Earth. I’m sure you’d see more blending than we’re aware of, being strangers, but truth be told, the Earth worship leads to a lot of culture stagnation. We maintain separate governments and go through all the forms of being independent, but it’s mostly a myth. The real divide that’s left is our ‘religion.’ We’ve lost all the old Earth religions in the process. The Orthodox are the majority. It’s almost a philosophy, a sort of organized group of people that are working loosely toward the same goal, unification with Earth or other Seeds. The Flock are the ones that first really brought the whole Earth worship into focus. We had been going that direction for a while, but the Flock’s growing presence accelerated it.”

“So neither the Americans nor the Russians are specifically affiliated with either side?”

“Nope, you’re clear. Just remember that the Orthodox are probably going to take your side. The Flock won’t.” The man glanced at a small clock on his desk. “You have the rest of the afternoon to explore if you wish. For safety’s sake, try to pretend that you’re American tourists or junior officials at the embassy or something. It’s starting to become more common now that we’re actually setting up a rail system at long last. Travel’s getting easier. When you get back, we’ll have rooms set up for you in the guest suites.”

“Sounds like you’ve really got your act together around here,” Michael said.

“Oh, we don’t see much excitement around here. Your arrival is really going to shake things up. I’m looking forward to it.” He stood up and reached out his hands to shake Michael and Rachael’s hands.

“We’re looking forward to it too,” Rachael promised.

“Absolutely,” Michael added.

The days passed quickly, and soon they were at the city limits. It really was a city, too, and while the skyline wouldn’t be competing with any great metropolis on Earth anytime soon, the contrast was huge between the tiny houses in Peter’s village and the ten or more story apartment buildings that littered the landscape. New Leningrad truly stretched high above their heads.

“Well, you obviously have steel and glass,” Michael said aloud. After a moment, he added, “And brick. Lots of brick.”

Peter nodded agreement, understanding the question. “Yes, and we have metals such as copper, nickel, and aluminum.”

“But not silicon,” Michael said. He looked at Peter for confirmation.

“That’s what you said computers need, right?” Peter asked.

“Yes, you need silicon to make the chips that make the computer run,” Michael explained.

“Ah. No, I guess we don’t have that. There are some materials we’re never going to get. Perhaps silicon is one of them. Still, we’re making great progress. Just a few short centuries back, we did finally get the last of the major settlements hooked into the electric grid. Before that, all we had were portable generators, and those weren’t very strong. We had to use electrical power pretty sparingly in those days.”

“I guess the villages haven’t gotten connected yet?” Rachael asked.

“No, not yet, though perhaps my grandchildren will see that happen some day. There just isn’t a need for it yet. Of course, we do have a generator that we could use if we ever had something that needed it.”

“So what do we do now? We’re here,” Michael said.

“I’ll take you to the embassy first. That way, you’ll meet some of the other Americans. Is that alright?”

“Sounds fine to me,” Rachael said. “How far is it from here, do you know?”

“Not far. We’ll be there soon.”

The streets were full of people, though the city was far quieter than she had expected it to be. Where was the bustle and chaos that she knew was so common to Earth cities? It was almost eerie. No one really looked their way, either, but Rachael supposed that there really wasn’t much to distinguish them from the people who actually lived here. Maybe if they’d actually come from Earth, they would have been tanned a little deeper from the natural sunlight, but here they fit right in.

Peter hardly glanced at the street signs as he led them deep into the heart of the city. Clearly, he knew his way around, and if anything seemed quieter than usual to him, he gave no sign of it. No, this must be the way he’d expected it to be.

“How long did you live here, before you met your wife?” Rachael asked.

“About five or six years. After that, it was another three years until my term was over and I was free to do what I wished.”

“You couldn’t leave your term early?”

“Ah, no. I was a ward of the state. My job at the embassy was the way that was chosen for me to pay my debt.”

“That’s fairly specific,” Rachael said in surprise. “Does it always work that way?”

“Oh, I held a few jobs before under the same terms, but I had a knack for public relations, I guess. I was fostered out to several families before I was adopted, and there were always a few kids coming through the program that were Russian, so I picked up the language. In the end, the embassy job was a perfect fit for me.” Peter looked up at a set of signs on a street corner. “We’re just about there. One more block.”

The embassy was a grand affair, several stories high and adorned with ornamental designs.

“I can’t help but think that the embassy buildings back on Earth are not usually so fine,” Rachael muttered aloud.

“Maybe when each side only needs to build one embassy building, you can afford to be a bit more extravagant,” Michael said. “I’m sure there’s one to match it in the American’s capital.”

“What is the American capital called?” Rachael asked Peter.

“Columbia District, of course.”

“Right, of course,” Rachael muttered. “Makes perfect sense.”

“Follow me, honored guests,” Peter said, beckoning them forward. “It is time for you to meet the high ambassador, Washington Delamere.”

“Heh, Washington Delamere. Think they were trying to go for Washington Delaware?” Rachael joked. Michael just rolled his eyes at her and followed Peter up the front steps.

The floor was inset stone, unlike anything she’d seen before. The room was divided by a central staircase. Looking up, she could see that it connected all five stories through a shaft cut through the center of the building. The ceiling and walls were ornamented with some sort of raised golden pattern, perhaps even gilt in real gold leaf. She couldn’t tell if the design was hand done or stenciled, but it certainly was stunning to behold, and it was clear that it must have taken some doing and cost a great deal, in labor if nothing else. A closer look at the walls revealed that they were liberally decorated with what appeared to be weapons. They were more decorative than anything she’d been trained to use, but they didn’t appear to be any less functional.

She looked back at her companions. Some of the awe she felt must have come through, because Peter was clearly pleased at her reaction. Michael just looked worried. As usual.

“With no disrespect to my wife’s people, the Russians have nothing so fine in Columbia District,” Peter told them both. He looked up at the ceiling above them, beaming with pride and swept his arm over the view in front of them. “No, this building is a work of art, the product of generations of effort.”

“Peter, is that you?” a man’s voice interrupted. Peter spun around, and in his surprise at the interruption, neglected to introduce them all. Instead, he clasped the man’s hand in a warm handshake and began to chatter away in what they assumed was Russian.

“Obviously, these two know each other,” Rachael said quietly, so as not to interrupt.

“I don’t think Peter’s been completely honest with us about the history of this planet. Those weapons on the walls, did you notice them?”

“What a surprise, considering how honest and truthful he’s been on everything else so far,” Rachael said sarcastically. “I did see them, but I didn’t think that much of it. I figured they were there as a display of power.”

“The point of the matter is that they have them at all, and they look like they were made recently. Those aren’t relics from before their arrival here, not by a long shot. Either their little Cold War is still ongoing, or they’ve stepped it up a few notches.”

“Perhaps we can weasel it out of Peter later on, when we have him back to ourselves again.”

“Peter, introduce me to your American friends. I can see from the looks on their faces that we’ve been leaving them out in the dark,” the man said, speaking up abruptly. His English was sound, but he had a marked accent.

Peter flushed a dark red and began bowing to Rachael and Michael. The look of horror on his face would have been funnier if he hadn’t been clearly dead serious. “Forgive me, gentle lady and gentle sir. It will not happen again.”

The man that had joined them looked at the two of them, baffled. Peter drew him away and whispered to him urgently.

“What?” the man roared. In a more normal tone, he added, “Are you sure?”

“We witnessed the signs, Ivan. Surely you saw them as well, just a few short days back. But in any case, even as we speak, the village is reclaiming the fiery craft that brought them here from Earth.”

Rachael and Michael exchanged glances. This was the first they’d heard of that.

Peter turned back to them and gestured at each in turn. “Ivan, may I present the Lady Rachael and the good Sir Michael, forerunners of Earth and the Great Harvest.”

Ivan prostrated himself on the ground, and Rachael began the process of urging him back to his feet. It took some doing.

“I will go and notify the Ambassador of this. Surely, some sort of formal reception or audience is called for.” Ivan backed away, still bowing, until the back of his leg caught the stair. Soon, he was fleeing up them, taking the steps two at a time in his excitement.

“I’m actually impressed,” Michael said aloud. “No one’s doubted our origins for a minute so far.”

“Maybe that’s because we’re on a planet of cannibals. After they’ve had their fun, they’ll barbeque us and enjoy a good meal. Later, they’ll congratulate themselves on how well they strung us along.”

Michael just gave Rachael an odd look. “You’re insane, you realize this.”

Rachael just shrugged. A gentle cough behind them reminded them that Peter was still standing nearby. He gestured for them to follow him, across the main corridor and into a small room opposite the main doors. The room in question was a parlor. It looked like a sitting room out of some bygone age on Earth. Everywhere they looked, they saw plush red upholstery and gilt edging. However, while the entranceway had been cold and imposing, this room was soft and inviting. There were throw pillows everywhere and not a weapon, ornamental or otherwise, in sight.

“This is really nice,” Rachael announced. She spun around, taking in the scenery. Michael just plopped down on the nearest chair and kicked up his feet on a matching footstool. “I think I can guess what this room getsused for,” Rachael told him with a smile. She walked around the room, examining the decorations on the wall. There were paintings and photographs of important dignitaries and landscapes. “Are these landscapes from your home, Peter?” she asked. She pointed at one that had caught her eye. It appeared to depict a lake, or perhaps even an ocean.

“Some of them, yes,” he told her. He pointed out the different photographs and paintings, naming the locations that had inspired them. “That one that you’re looking at now, that’s from the Ocean shoreline near where I was born. It’s a journey of several weeks from here by foot.”

Rachael glanced back at him, curious. “How’d you end up all the way out here? I know you said you were a ward of the state, but you’re a long way from home. Why?”

Peter sighed. “Without proper sunlight, most of the crops that the settlers brought from Earth failed. It’s hard work to keep any of it alive. My family and our neighbors were struggling to grow what little we had when a blight of mold hit our town. I was just a boy at the time. By the time the other settlements were able to send help, a plague had already set in. Most of us didn’t make it. My parents didn’t, anyway.”

Rachael’s eyes