“Good. Now where did Brandon get to—” He looked around and spotted the Chief Adviser. “My next victim. Excuse me, Iolanthe.”
When he’d gone, Io turned to Prudence, frowning. “What’s a gemfarm?”
Will envied Chief Adviser Brandon Fischer, whom he overheard begging off the gemfarm tour. “If you love me, Adrian, don’t make me come along on one of those things. The boredom is matched only by the discomfort.”
“You’d add a welcome fourth to the group. As it is, it’s only me, Iolanthe, Prudence, and a dozen guards.”
“It’s ninety-eight degrees down there, Adrian!”
“All right, all right. Don’t whine, it lacks dignity in a Sixteenth Rank. Go, spend the day with Jane and Emily Rose. And think of me suffering as they bring you cakes and iced beer.”
“Easy to see you’ve never been married, lad,” muttered Fischer, but he took himself off with alacrity.
Will approached the Protector. “Sir?”
“Yes … Stockton, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir. May I take my men through the farm before the party enters? We didn’t hear about the tour schedule until this morning.”
Adrian sighed. “Neither has anybody else, that was the plan. Do you really find it necessary, sergeant? Besides, while you three sweep the farm, do you want to leave the lady Iolanthe with only two Diamond escorts? Who are perfectly capable of handling any situation that arises, I might add, but I was under the impression that the Opal was to retain security control until after the wedding.” Will bit his lip, looking unhappy. Adrian said, “I assure you, a couple of suitably paranoid Diamond fellows are looking the spot over at this very moment.” When Will still hesitated, Adrian added, “Let me give you a piece of advice from the last Protector that’s stood me in good stead. When anything you do is wrong, do nothing. Fewer people will criticize you later.”
Will spread his hands in a gesture of surrender. He returned to Iolanthe’s side, glanced at his two Sangaree guards, and shrugged.
They emerged out of a blue haze, the transparent walls of the lift bullet showing a patchwork of green and brown fields spread out below. An arc of sun-lights ran over the orb of the sky. The bullet descended for a good fifteen minutes, giving Iolanthe time to reflect that it was fortunate she had a head for heights. The ride was lovely, in fact. “I never saw the inside before,” she said.
“We all live inside,” said Adrian. “This is just a bit farther in. The Flux Chamber’s not far from here; another five levels below the ground. The farmers claim they can hear the earth humming.”
Below them, the hills resolved themselves into rice paddies. The golden line of wheat stubble in the distance disappeared. “Is it dangerous?” Io asked. “Being so near the flux?”
“If it were, I’d never get anyone to a council meeting. Though that’s an idea—maybe I ought to start a rumor, it would make civil action so much easier if there were nobody else in the room.” He seemed to be thinking of something else for a moment, then said, “Don’t let it bother you, my lady; exposure is only a problem in the long-term. It’s the people on the outer shell who total up the real radiation count; that’s why we try to keep rotating them. —Look, pearl farms around the ponds. That’s the Old-Earth kind. And that building there, that’s the gemfarm.”
She looked down at a long, rectangular roof that seemed to go on for miles. “They grow rubies and diamonds in there?”
“The treasures of the earth,” said Adrian, “as promised.” The lift slowed. When they reached bottom and Iolanthe stepped out, her first thought was that the treasures of the earth required a lot of moisture. The air was humid and heavy. A supervisor in white shirt and short trousers met them at the entrance to the lift, bowed, and said, “We’re honored.” He was in his thirties, with fair skin and an open face. His shirt was damp against his back and beneath his arms. “May I escort you inside? We only had word you were coming half an hour ago, or we would have made better preparations.”
“Not necessary, Roger.” Adrian smiled. “Somehow I thought this farm would be the most appropriate to introduce the Lady Iolanthe to one of our best Curosa legacies.”
“And I must agree. What has it been, five years?”
“Six. And a half.”
“Well, you were never forgotten. So much gossip blew through here during the Trouble, we got no output done at all—everybody from the grannies down through the prentices bet the Sawyer kid would end up on top. None of us took those Verities seriously.”
“You knew more than I did, at the time. Though I always expected you wouldn’t stay in the planting line, Roger. Whenever I turned around, there was a new idea from your section about cutting production time.”
Roger beamed. The group started strolling toward the gemfarm doors. Io was walking behind Roger, and she heard him say, in a lower voice, “Adrian?”
“Yes, my friend?”
“Can we advertise the fact that this was the farm the Protector’s wife was shown?”
Adrian started to laugh. They went inside.
A blast of hot air hit Iolanthe as soon as she went through the door. The temperature outside had been a delight by comparison. What’s more, she noted at once, there was no floor to the building; just dirt. Soft, damp, black, squidgy dirt that was not far removed from mud. She could feel her crystal heels sink with each step. Her shoes— perfectly suitable for morning service—had cost more than most Three Cities families earned in a month. White snake-skin, she thought ruefully. Prudence was right about men not grasping the Shoe Problem.
The workers had dispensed with uniforms, including shoes, and one could see why. Long tables of rough wood led into the distance, bordered by conveyors down the center. The table legs looked as though they sank down into the earth at least an inch. The ground to the side of the tables
