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over it. He's not even a year old, after all. Even if he had every power in the
book, what could he do with them? No, I don't think they were about to keep the
gate open just to try and get Gregory, too especially if it meant that the five of
us might escape! Speaking of Gregory, by the way who's with him?"
"Puck, and an elf-wife," Gwen answered. "And, aye, fear not she knows the
crafting of a nursing-glove."
Rod nodded. "And anything else she needs to know about him, I'm sure Brom
will be glad to supply."
"He takes so great an interest in our children," Gwen sighed.
"Ah yes." Rod remembered his promise not to tell Gwen that Brom was her
father. "Comes in handy, at a time like this. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he
flits in from Beastland, just to take charge of Greg personally and Baby
couldn't be safer inside a granite castle guarded by a phalanx of knights and three
battlewagons. No, I think he'll be safe till we get back."
" 'Until?' "Magnus perked up. "Then thou'tt certain we can return, Papa?"
Well, Rod had been, until Magnus mentioned it but he wasn't about to say so.
There were times when it came in handy, being telepathically invisible, even to
members of his own family.
Damn few, though. And there were so many times when it was a curse, almost
made him feel excluded&
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He shrugged it off. "Of course we can get back! It's just a problem and
problems are made to be solved, right?"
"Right," all three children shouted, and Rod grinned in spite of himself. They
were handy to have around, sometimes. Most times.
"Tell us the manner of it!" Magnus demanded.
"Oh& I dunno & " Rod let his gaze wander. "We don't exactly have enough
information to start building theories. We don't even know where we are, in a
manner of speaking, or what materials and tools are available which might be
handy to know, 'cause it might come down to building our own time-machine.
For that matter, we don't even know if there're even any people!"
"Then let us go discover it!" Magnus said stoutly.
Rod felt the grin spreading over his face again. "Yeah, let's go!" He whipped out
his dagger. "Blaze trees as we go, kids we might want to be able to find our
way back here. Forward march!"
CHAPTER SIX
"I trust you had a pleasant journey, Father Uwell."
"As usual, Your Grace." Father Al dug gratefully into a pile of asparagus that
appeared to be fresh. "Aboard ship, it was very pleasant ample time for
meditation. It was getting to the ship that was the problem."
Bishop Fomalo smiled thinly. "Isn't it always? I believe my secretary said you
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were from the Vatican." The Bishop knew that full well; that's why he'd invited
Father Al to dinner. Not to impress him, but because that was the only half-hour
open in the Bishop's schedule.
Father Al nodded, chewing, and swallowed. "But I have no official standing,
Your Grace. An informal trouble-shooter, you might say."
The Bishop frowned. "But we have no troubles in my diocese at least, none
that would merit the Vatican's attention."
"None that you know of." Father Al tried a sympathetic smile. "And it's
debatable whether or not it's in your diocese."
Bishop Fomalo seemed to relax a little. "Come, now, Father! Certainly the
Vatican knows which solar systems my diocese includes."
"Lundres, Seredin, and Ventreles I believe those are the colonists' names for
the stars. I'm afraid I don't know the catalog numbers."
"I'd have to look them up, myself," the bishop said, with a thin smile. "There are
colonies on the third and fourth planets of Lundres, one on the fourth planet of
Seredin, and one on the second planet of Ventreles."
"But they haven't begun to branch out to the moons and asteroids yet?"
"No, the planets are enough for us, for the time being. After all, Father, we
scarcely total a million souls."
"So little as that? My, my. I trust that doesn't indicate a disaster?"
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"Scarcely." The bishop tried to repress a smile. "But when you begin with a
colony of a few thousand, Father, it does take a while to build up a sizable
population, even with sperm and ova banks to keep the genetics stable."
"Yes, of course. I hope you'll pardon my ignorance, Your Grace I've never
been so far from Terra before. And distance is the factor with so few people
spread over so many light-years, it must be an Herculean task to stay in touch
with them."
"It is difficult," the bishop admitted, "especially with so few vocations. But we
do have hyperadio now, and of course we've had a dozen pinnaces with FTL
drives all along."
"Of course." But Father Al's eyes suddenly gleamed.
The bishop shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "About this trouble you
mentioned, Father on which colony is it?"
"A Lost Colony, Your Grace, about two-thirds of the way between Seredin and
Ventreles, and thirteen light-years away."
The Bishop relaxed again. "Well, that is out of my diocese. What colony is this?"
"Its people call it 'Gramarye,' Your Grace."
"Troubling." The bishop frowned. "The word refers to sorcery, does it not?"
"Well, magic, certainly, and it does have occult connotations. The term's also
used to refer to a book of magical spells."
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"I can see why the Vatican would be concerned. But how is it I've never heard of
this Lost Colony, Father?"
"Why, they wished to stay lost," Father Al said, lips puckering in a smile. "As far
as I've been able to make out, they deliberately set about cutting themselves off
from the rest of humanity."
"An ominous symptom." The bishop's frown deepened. "All manner of heresies [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]