Jo Clayton: Shadow of the Warmaster

We took Adelaar to Droom; she wanted to get Adelaris whipped into shape again before she took off to work on my house. She’d been away for over four years and was nervous about what she’d find left of her business.

That left Crew and me alone at last on SlancyOrza . It felt good. Kinok had worked his remotes till their bearings ran hot, scrubbing out the hold and the rest of her. She felt clean and fresh. Frisky.

It was deep winter when we got back, the month called Wolves Running ; snow was piled into three-meter drifts when we dropped the lander on the pad. Up in Slancy , Kinok was rubbing his tentacles together again, scritching away like crazy, laughing at us idiots leaving a warm clean ship so we could get ourselves soaked to the bone and half-frozen.

The housekeep was burbling over with things to tell us about the small lives that prowled about on my land; among other things, two feral and very pregnant cats had showed up; they had their kittens in the summerhouse. She said she couldn’t understand how they’d managed to get through the shield (I had my doubts about that), but they had, so she’d deloused the mogs and their kits and shot all of them full of antibiots and organized a feeding schedule to keep the mamas at their job. She was full of how well she’d coped. Ever since Kumari worked over her programming, she’s developed strong maternal urges. Sometimes I get tired of her fussing, then I see the absurdity of a neuter like our Kri coming up with such a construct; even if Kri were sexed, she belongs to a budding species where motherhood is like a bad case of acne. I think she reads too much.

We’ll finish out the winter at the Nest; come spring we’ll go take a look at Tairanna to see how things are working out and what kind of trading we can do. It’s mostly curiosity, though it won’t hurt having a stash of rosepearls in the basement that we could dip into should Luck turn mean on us.

On the way back we might stop off at University to see if they have any interesting commissions needing an experienced and trustworthy Crew. I might call up Aslan to see if she’s unsaddled her white horse and ready to enjoy another sort of ride. It’s a short life these bodies have, and a good one; fragile but full of heat and flavor.

I’m sitting up in my tower. It’s a clear night. No clouds. The stars out this way are sparse but that makes them all the lovelier and the moonlight on the snow is magical.