But he found all those artefacts.
I admit that is somewhat puzzling.
Do you think he attacked Neeves and Sipika?
No. Joshua was not in the Ruin Ring when those other scavengers disappeared.
So he must be psychic.
I cannot logically refute the hypothesis. But I don’t believe it.
You, acting on a hunch!
Where you are concerned, I act on my feelings. Ione, you grew inside me, I nurtured you. How could I not feel for you?
She smiled dreamily at the ceiling. Well, I do think he’s psychic. There’s certainly something different about him. He has this sort of radiance, it animates him more than any other person I know.
I haven’t seen it.
It’s not something you can see.
Even assuming you are correct about him being psychic, why would your child retain the trait? It’s not exactly something sequenced into any known gene.
Magic passes down through families the same way as red hair and green eyes.
This isn’t an argument I’m going to win, is it?
No. Sorry.
Very well. Would you like me to book you an appointment in the StAnne clinic’s administration processor?
What for?
An in-vitro fertilization.
No, the child will be conceived naturally. But I will need the clinic later to take the zygote out and prepare it for storage.
Is there a specific reason for doing it this way? In vitro would be much simpler.
Maybe, but Joshua really is superb in bed. It’ll be a lot more fun this way.
Humans!
Chapter 09
The hot rain falling on Durringham had started shortly after daybreak on Wednesday; it was now noon on Thursday and there had been no let-up. The satellite pictures showed there was at least another five hours’ worth of cloud waiting over the ocean. Even the inhabitants, normally unperturbed by mere thunderstorms, had deserted the streets. Scummy water swirled round the stone supports of raised wooden buildings, seeping up through the floorboards. More worryingly, there had been several mudslides on the north-east side of the city. Durringham’s civic engineers (all eight of them) were alarmed that an avalanche effect would sweep whole districts into the Juliffe.
Lalonde’s Governor, Colin Rexrew, received their datavised report phlegmatically. He couldn’t honestly say the prospect of losing half of the capital was an idea which roused any great regret. Pity it wasn’t more.
At sixty years old he had reached the penultimate position in his chosen profession. Born in Earth’s O’Neill Halo, he had started working for the astroengineering giant Miconia Industrial straight after university, qualifying with a degree in business finance, then diversified into subsidiary management, a highly specialized profession, making sure semi-independent divisions retained their corporate identity even though they were hundreds of light- years from Earth. The company’s widespread offices meant he was shunted around the Confederation’s inhabited systems in three-year shifts, slowly building an impressive portfolio of experience and qualifications, always putting his personal life second to the company.
Miconia Industrial had taken a ten per cent stake in the Lalonde Development Company, the third largest single investor. And Colin Rexrew had been appointed Governor two years ago. He had another eight years of office to run, after which he’d be in line for a seat on Miconia’s board. He would be sixty-eight by then, but some geneering in his heritage gave him a life expectancy of around a hundred and twenty. At sixty-eight he would be just hitting his peak. With a successful governorship under his belt, his chances of nabbing the board seat were good verging on excellent.
Although, as he now knew to his cost, success on Lalonde was a slippery concept to define. After twenty-
