Best of British Science Fiction 2016 by Donna Scott

Author:Donna Scott [Scott, Donna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781910935415
Publisher: NewCon Press
Published: 2017-07-09T22:00:00+00:00

It proved an excellent decision. As the little shuttle lifted and I saw the town below fall away, I felt my spirits rise. After all, I had come here to escape the terrible weight that seemed to descend upon one after too long in the core worlds. I could only hope that, with some time to himself again, Eckhart would find that my stay had relieved some of his own strain.

For a whole day the shuttle followed the coastline south along ragged shores and pristine sands. Shortly after dawn of the second day, we reached the silver-streaked triangle of a river delta and struck south-west into the interior.

As we went deeper into the mountains, the landscape took a turn to the dramatic. We powered through deep-cut valleys, with the peaks rising on either side, blue-grey and green; valleys steeper and mountains more vertiginous than any I have ever seen. I am well-travelled, made the mandatory grand tour that all my class made in their youth, and have seen some of the most arresting sights in the Commonwealth. I have not seen anywhere to match this wild land tucked away on this distant world. I could understand what had pulled Eckhart here. I could not understand how he had soured.

We came in time to a small town at the confluence of two rivers. Here, Eckhart had arranged accommodation for me, of a necessarily Spartan but sufficient kind, and had also hired the services of a guide to take me further up along the Red River and into an area said to be the most dramatic and beautiful on Wright’s World.

Let me take a moment to describe my guide. His name was Yarrow, and he was a native of the area, descended from those original settlers who had come out here several generations ago. I do not believe he had even ever gone as far away from his place of birth as the main township. He was at once an advert and a warning for provinciality, being coarse, dirty, unpleasant, often drunk, and knowing the region like no other. His company amused me greatly.

With this unlikely companion, I began my journey upriver by flyer. This machine is worthy of mention: it was so ancient that its continued use surely broke numerous regulations, and yet Yarrow manifestly cared for it in a way I believe he had never cared for any living soul, man, beast or jenjer. I felt entirely safe aboard this contraption flying above what must be one of most remote regions of the Commonwealth.

We travelled without much in the way of conversation. Occasionally Yarrow would direct my attention towards some natural feature of particular magnificence; mostly he allowed the landscape to speak for itself. It needed no advocate. I cannot think of a place more startling, more remote, and more beautiful than those peaks and valleys along the Red River on Wright’s World. And I had not yet experienced them in full.

We reached a place where the river passed through a deep gorge.

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