Glory Season

"There are dangers beyond outright invasion. Serious potentialities for harm to our society. Remember, consciousness isn't everything! Sometimes the race has more wisdom than its individual members."

The young interviewer frowned. "I don't quite follow."

"There are signs — portents, if you will. For example, one might mention the increase, during the last several seasons, of—"

A sudden, jerky shift. Maia would have missed it, had she blinked. Studio editing. Something excised from the interview before transmission.

" — making it impossible to completely dismiss the prospect of harm coming from restored contact with the Phylum . . . much as we deplore some of the wilder fear campaigns being waged by certain radical groups . . ."

Blips like that were common on shows 'cast by Caria City. So common, Maia might not have given it much thought, if she hadn't been so intensely interested in the answer. Now, she wondered. The heretic has a point. Vars grow up not expecting to be told much. We get used to it. But aren't we citizens, too? Doesn't this affect us all?

Just having such thoughts made Maia feel bold and rebellious.

". . . so we must all strive together to reinforce the underpinnings of this good world left us by Lysos and the Founders. One that tests our daughters, but leaves them strong. Even the interstellar Visitor proclaims wonder over all we've achieved, especially our remarkable social stability, as hominidal colonies go."

Maia took note. The savant seemed to be confirming the common rumor, that just one alien had actually landed on the surface of Stratos.

"It is important, therefore, to keep all other aspects in perspective, and remember what is fundamental. These accomplishments — this world and proud culture of ours — are worth defending with all the dedication we can muster from our souls."

It was a stirring speech, uttered with passion and eloquence. Maia saw many of the heads between her and the screen nod in solemn agreement. Of course, those up front would be clones from lesser families, or rich vars. Anyone who could afford front seats already had a vested interest in the social order. Yet, many others seemed as moved by the savant's words. Even Leie, when Maia turned to glance at her sister.

Of course Leie, the perpetual optimist, assumed it was just a matter of time before the two of them established their own clan. They would someday be revered grandmothers of a great nation. Any system that let quality rise in such a way might be stern, but could it be called unjust?

Could it? Maia long ago gave up arguing the topic. She never won contests of opinion with her twin.

". . . so we are asking all citizens, from clanhold to sanctuary, to keep on the lookout. If anyone notices anything peculiar, it is her — or his — duty to report it at once—"

The change in the thread of Savant Sydonia's words caught her by surprise. Maia whispered. "What's she onto now? I missed—"

Leie hushed her curtly.

". . . to inform the local guardia office in any large town. Or go to any major clanhold and tell the senior mothers what you have seen. There are rewards, up to a Level Three stipend, for information serving the interest of Stratos in these times of stress and danger."

The young interviewer smiled ingratiatingly. "Thank you, Savant Sydonia, of Clan Youngblood and the Caria University. Now we turn to this month's summary of tech judgments. Reporting from Patents Hall, here is Eilene Yarbro. …"

Leie dragged Maia outside by the wrist.

"Did you hear?" she asked excitedly, once they were, some distance away, beside one of Lanargh's countless canals. "A Class Three stipend . . . just for tattling!"

"I heard, Leie. And yes, it's enough to start a hold, in some inexpensive town. But did you notice how vague they were? You don't find that strange? Almost like they're desperate to learn something, but julping at the thought of anybody finding out what they're looking for!"

"Mm," Leie grunted. "You have a point. But hey, you know what?" Her eyes gleamed. "That must mean they're underplaying what they're actually willing to pay. A stipend for information . . . and how much more for keeping quiet afterward? A whole lot, I'll bet!"

Yeah, lots more. Like a garrote in the dark. There were legends of ancient parthenogenetic clans whose daughters brought status and wealth to the hive by hiring out as stealthy assassins. Not all scary stories told to little summerlings were baseless.

But Maia didn't mention this. After all, Leie lived for possibilities, and her enthusiasm tugged at something similar within Maia — a zest for living that she might otherwise have been too reserved, too withdrawn to tap. She differed so from her sibling, even though they were as alike genetically as any pair of clones. It had made Maia more willing than most vars to accept the notion of individuality among winter folk.

"We've got to keep our eyes open!" Leie said, turning a great circle with her arms, and finally staring up at the starry vault overhead.