“Then build them,” Vintico said. “Leave us to get on with our lives.”

“It would all go a lot easier if you could help overcome the short-term problems. Come, we know this is going to be a difficult time. I will speak with the next Skylord who comes to Querencia and ask if they can guide souls from other places, not just the towers of Eyrie. I will also lobby the Mayor for a large building enterprise outside the city. Together we can overcome this.”

“Then join us,” Vintico said. “We would be happy to accept you. And you would be showing your approval of us.”

“You’re too insular,” Edeard told him. “I can see that. Everything Our City embraces is a rejection of others. You must look outward, be welcoming. Closing yourself off like this, pushing the problem onto others, achieves nothing but antagonism and conflict. What kind of world will that build?”

Vintico grinned maliciously, a bad humor that rippled through the clique in the square. “You mean we must become like you? Join you? Acknowledge your way as the right way?”

“It’s not like that, not about ‘ways.’ True life is the understanding and support of other people, of selflessness, of charity, of kindness.”

“Of being abused and exploited, you mean,” Vintico replied. “That’s what’s happened to Makkathran. We were being overrun by these parasites; they threw our hospitality and welcome back in our faces. Well, no more! We will not give up our claim on our city; our birthright is absolute. And soon everyone will join us in our goal.” His voice and longtalk rose, summoning up support from his audience, who shouted agreement.

Edeard stared at the man’s stubborn expression, examining the minds glimmering angrily across the square around him, discovering the strength of resolution behind the words. Vintico meant everything he said. There would be no persuading them, no deal to broker, no halfway accommodation. Even for a novice politician, that was odd. He gave Vintico a shrewd examination, wondering just how he’d come by so much confidence. “Why would everyone join Our City?”

There was the smallest flash of triumph shimmering through Vintico’s mental shield. “You’ll see. Even you will have to help defend our rights.”

“Oh, Lady,” Edeard murmured barely audibly as he realized what Vintico had to mean. “The Fandine militia is coming, isn’t it?”

Vintico sneered. “Not just them. The Colshire regiment is marching against us, as is the Bural. Three provinces seek to attack Makkathran. You will have to decide which side you’re on, Waterwalker. Ours or theirs, which is it to be?”

A grimace of pain crossed Edeard’s face. Those closest to him took a nervous half step backward as a terrible anger rose through his mind, spitting out flares of misery and depression that made flesh judder and tenacity waver in even the most stalwart in the square.

“In the Lady’s name, what do you want from me?” Edeard yelled furiously. They were backing off fast now. “Every time, every Honious-fucking time I do whatever I can to make things right, this is what happens. Every time, something or someone comes out of the darkness to screw things up.”

Vintico’s mouth twitched uncertainly. “Waterwalker, we simply wish that our own children have the chance to-”

“Shut! UP!” Edeard bellowed. “I have lost my grandchild to bring you this world today. My beautiful lovely little boy who brought no misery and suffering. Unlike you and your wretched kind who generate nothing else. I unmade him to give you a chance. And now I must do it again, because clearly I’m not allowed to go off voyaging around the world. Because when I do, you appear and ruin what peace and hope there is. The militias can’t be stopped now that they’re on the march, just as you oh so cleverly intended. They have to be stopped before they leave, have to be stopped from leaving; in fact, they must never have a reason for leaving. And the only way to do that is prevent your Lady-damned Our City from being formed. Do you understand what that means, you piece of shit? They have been born but two days! Why should I unmake them for you? Eh? Answer me that? Why should I just not exterminate every one of you here and now? That would have the same result. They’ll never be born again, for sure as a genistar shits in the forest, that voyage won’t happen next time around because I can’t leave Makkathran before the stopover problem is solved. So they’ll never meet Marvane, and he’ll never be crowned Luckiest Man. Will he?”

Vintico took a defiant step forward even though he didn’t understand what was being said to him. “You can never exterminate all of us. Together we are strong.” To prove it, the minds of those in the square began to combine their telekinesis, strengthening a broad shield to ward off whatever terror the Waterwalker would unleash.

“Yeah,” Edeard barked. “Don’t I fucking know it.” With a final snarl of anguish he reached back for a memory-

– to land on the ground at the foot of the Eyrie tower. The crowd exclaimed in admiration; several people applauded. More cheered at the resurgence of the Waterwalker.

He stared around in a daze. It was as if the sights and sensations of the city were muted somehow, as if this time lacked the solidity of true life. I don’t take part in life anymore. I just respond to the old events as I believe I ought. What kind of existence is this?

Kristabel scowled at the flamboyant display of his ability.

“Daddy,” Marilee scolded.

“That was so bad.”

“Teach us how to do that.”

He gave the twins a weary look. They had never looked happier than holding their babes barely a day ago in his own personal time. Now that is never to happen, not even if I engineer a meeting with Marvane for them. “The Skylord comes,” he told them dully, hoping that would be enough to silence them for a while. It always had before.

Out across the Lyot Sea the massive shimmering bulk of the Skylord had risen above the horizon. Far above, on the tower platform, Finitan’s astonishment at the arrival was echoed by the whole city. Awe turned to trepidation as the size of the Skylord became apparent to everyone.

So no voyage, he mused as the great creature flew effortlessly above the choppy sea. And Kristabel said I had become almost intolerable at this point. So now, instead of alleviating that with the voyage, I must do something about the mass of stopover visitors. Lady, please understand, I cannot take much more sacrifice in my life. Truly, I cannot.

THE DELIVERY MAN spent the flight accessing what information the smartcore had on the Anomine. There wasn’t much. They were an advanced race who had traveled along the standard evolutionary development route for biological species, zipping from agricultural age to industrial age right up to a benign civilization with FTL starflight and a kind of cellular-based replicator technology that meshed with their own forms. That development allowed for a lot of diversification before their various blocs and genealogies eventually reunited and they elevated themselves to postphysical status. From the small snippets of true history the navy expeditions had uncovered, it seemed that the trigger factor for reunification was the threat posed by the Prime.

Sitting in the antique styling of the Last Throw’s cabin with an uncommunicative Gore, the Delivery Man couldn’t help but wonder if the Anomine had found the Prime a little too much like looking into a mirror for comfort. Bodies that had merged into machinery? Albeit the Prime capability was set at a more primitive level. There but for the grace of God go I, grace in this case being the Prime’s biogenetically embedded xenophobia. The Anomine were only too well aware of what would happen if the paranoid, aggressive, and heavily armed Prime ever escaped their home star system, as they were already attempting in slower-than-light starships. Their concerns were vindicated by their observation of the first Prime ships to reach the existing civilization of the closest star system, Dyson Beta. The peaceful aliens of that world never stood a chance.