The Gathering Flame by Doyle Debra; Macdonald James D

Author:Doyle, Debra; Macdonald, James D. [Doyle, Debra; Macdonald, James D.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 1995-07-14T22:00:00+00:00

Festen Aringher sat on the veranda of the Mount Kelpen Lodge, drinking redroot tea spiked with Felshang brandy and feeling pleased with the galaxy. The mountains, bright and gaudy in their autumnal foliage, rose up behind the lodge; and from his position on the front veranda, he could look downward and out across the plain to the spaceport at Wippeldon. From time to time, between sips of tea, he lifted his binoculars to scan the landing field and the sky above it.

His vigilance—he’d been lounging purposefully on the veranda for several hours today alone—was rewarded. About midmorning, he recognized the distinctive profile of a Fleet messenger unit from Galcen, with a pair of Entiboran heavy surface-to-system fighters flying beside it on its approach. “Bardalft-class,” he murmured under his breath, and was surprised when a voice behind him on the veranda said, “You have good eyes. What else have you seen?”

Aringher lowered his binoculars and turned his head to see who had spoken. The new arrival was a tall young man of otherwise nondescript appearance, wearing the livery of the vintners’ guild. He could have been waiting for half an hour, or a few seconds; his bland features revealed nothing, neither impatience nor boredom.

“Whom do I have the honor of addressing?” Aringher had his suspicions, but on occasions like this it always paid to observe the formalities.

The other didn’t make a direct reply. “May I sit?”

“Of course.”

The young man folded himself into one of the cushioned lounge chairs with a sigh of relief. “The time has come for you to take your proper role here—the one which Crannach delivered to you.”

Aringher felt the flash of satisfaction that comes from seeing a theory confirmed. It was indeed possible that the newcomer worked for the vintners’ guild—it was a nice respectable job, excellent cover—but this was one of the Galcenian agents whom he had been warned to expect when the day came. The civilized galaxy’s politicians might not be Centrists, or anyway not enough of them were, but it was inevitable that sooner or later some planetary government would figure out the advantages of unity over local sovereignty. Nobody had expected the world to be prickly, custom-ridden Entibor; but one did one’s best with the material at hand.

Aringher thought for a moment; under the circumstances it was best to say something significant and, at the same time, noncommittal. “There have been a number of new arrivals today,” he said. “There weren’t any for quite a while, but there’ve been at least five since I’ve been sitting here. After spending much time on-planet, one comes to anticipate them eagerly.”

The younger man seemed to relax. “Is there a chance you could order up another cup of tea? I’d like to sit and watch the comings and goings at the field myself.”

“I was just leaving,” Aringher replied. “But you can walk along with me if you like. I was planning to go down to the port and check the boards for departures. I think it might be time for me to move on.

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