Worlds of Honor

counterpart, the head of a somewhat smaller group of 'advisers' sent to the same place on the same mission as Ryder's Manticorans. The exact genesis of Chung's assignment remained a bit hazy, given his government's official support for the Solarian League's 'neutral' position, but his presence was a clear indication that the Erewhonese were rather more concerned over Peep ambitions in their direction than their Solarian allies. Or, as Ryder had quipped when they discovered one another's missions, 'Great minds wobble and weave down the same gutter.'

Fernando Chung had thrown that quip back at her on another occasion, the evening that they realized they were attracted to each other and were neither far apart in rank nor in the same chain of command. This didn't entirely kill the thrill of thumbing noses (and other parts) at distant superiors, but with proper security precautions they thought the companionship and the cooperation going literally hand in hand would harm no one.

An observer able to bug the room would have seen Shuna Ryder's normally sober look change to a broad grin at Chung's appearance. She put her right hand up to grip one of Chung's while her left hand reached for the towel.

He took the first hand, but backed hastily out of reach of the left.

'What's this, Sir? Do you need me to rinse your back?'

Chung did not smile. Ryder 's own grin faded. Her first thought was that someone at the Hadrian's Wall had recognized one or both of them. Port Malcolm had a good many small hotels and inns whose owners had civilized attitudes toward unmarried lovers, unlike too many of the Republicans, and so far she and Fernando had been lucky, but had their luck finally run out?

'I hate to break the rule about no business,' Chung said. 'But we have a situation.' The tone made it clear that 'we' meant the two advisory missions to the Canmore Republic, not Fernando and Shuna, the unlikely but ardent lovers.

'The Peeps?' Ryder looked around the room, batting her eyes in what she hoped would be taken as a seductive manner if anybody had a video bug hooked up.

'In a way,' Chung said. He poked a foot under the bed and moved something back and forth. It sounded plastic-covered and heavy, and Ryder realized that Chung had probably brought a scrambler to counter any bugs. It would be a good one, too; the Erewhon mission had access to state-of-the-art Solarian League technology.

Unfortunately, so did the Peeps.

Ryder groaned. Nobody would mistake the sound for ecstasy. Indigestion or arthritis, possibly, but not any kind of serious pleasure.

'It's an opportunity as well as a problem,' Chung said, knotting the towel in place and sitting down on the bed. He had not quite dried himself, and Ryder had visions of a soggy bed even if they finished the business quickly.

'I've heard that ancestral quotation at least fifty times,' Ryder said.

'Not from me.'

'No, it was a favorite of my senior tactical officer at the Staff College.'

'Ah, he recognizes the wisdom of the ancient Chinese, then.'

'If you don't either explain yourself or take off that towel, nobody will recognize a certain young Chinese- Latino Erewhonese. Not even your own mother.'

'You would lose face with her by violence,' Chung said. 'Otherwise, I am sure she would approve of you, if only because I am finally not living like a eunuch—'

'That can be arranged,' Ryder said. She sat up, with a look on her face that made Chung jump up and back hastily away from the bed.

'Your pardon, honored lady,' Chung said. 'I will be brief. The private army of the Peep's pet warlord is on the move. The heavy equipment is coming into Buwayjon, a shipload at least every night. It is being secured by Euvinophan's Field Police.'

'Not his infantry?'

Chung looked like a treecat contemplating a new litter of healthy kittens. 'No. The ground troops are still in the Capitol.'

Ryder took a moment to assimilate this fact. 'Guarding the White Elephant?'

'I don't think His Majesty would let Euvinophan's brawlers within ten klicks of the Elephant Temple,' Chung said. 'I have an alternative theory.'

'He wants to pull a quick shuffle, keeping the components of his assault force separated so we won't recognize what they are until it's too late.'

'Bravo!' He bent down and kissed her. She was tempted to grab for the towel, but refrained. She smelled more coming.

'That tactical officer could teach more than ancient Chinese sayings,' Ryder said tartly. Then, slowly, she added, 'I see what you mean by an opportunity. Without their ground component—'

'The heavy equipment is vulnerable to the kind of offensive your Sea Fencibles could launch.'

'They're not my Sea Fencibles. If they're anybody's other than the Republic's they're as much yours as mine. Or was it another man of the same name who developed those conversion kits to make their assault rifles up to date, at least for cartridge weapons?'

'Guilty,' Chung said. 'Now, if you don't mind tactical planning as pillow talk . . . ?'

Usually, Ryder did. But somewhere in the last minute, it had struck her that this might be the last time together for her and Chung. Neither of them was the kind to stay in the rear when the people they had trained went into battle, for all the secrecy surrounding both their missions. Besides, if the Crown's forces helped Erewhon pull this particular basket of nuts out of the Peep fire, the Erewhonese would probably do their best to repair any minor leaks.

So she and Fernando need not hold back, either now or when the raid set out.

She stood up, flexing her knees so that she could kiss his lips instead of his nose.

TWO

Silvestria was a long way from Old Earth in the days of cryogenic colony ships and not a short haul even when would-be emigrants could hyper out and hope to reach their destination—or some destination—alive. This did not keep it from suffering the not-uncommon fate of a good many planets—two colonies, the one that started out first arriving second, and the one that started out second being down on the ground before the first hit planetary orbit.

However, both expeditions managed to run into trouble. The Pechili Consortium whose people founded the Kingdom of Chuiban sent them out in a ship whose cryogenic suspension killed two-thirds of the voyagers. The Conforming Wee Free Kirk which sent out a hypership to found the Canmore Republic bought the latest in ships and skimped on the supplies, so that the engine trouble which prolonged the voyage left the ancestors of the Republicans a short step from cannibalism. Weakened by hunger and facing a Silvestria winter, two-thirds of them also died with depressing speed.

Whatever the survivors knew about (and this shortly included each other), what they could build at once was on the level of black-powder rifles and sailing ships, for some centuries. However, one can catch a lot of fish from a sailing lugger and cut down a lot of trees with a simple steel axe or saw.

The Silvestrians' widely differing cultural traditions kept them from uniting. So did a mostly amiable pride in having each survived the neo-barbarian period largely on their own. But slowly life on the planet passed from survival to comfort, and from there to the accumulation of a capital surplus for investment in modern technology.

The population increase was also slow at first; the harsh climate was deadly to more children and old folk than anyone in later years cared to remember in too much detail. Then out-system trade and better nutrition began to work their customary magic, and Silvestria was no more than a generation from introducing orbital industries and