‘What’s a stone boat?’

‘A flat sledge. They move quite quickly, allow us to sweep more ground. After all, you can’t use a cart out here, lieutenant. No wheels will work in this kind of country.’

The way it was said – emphasizing the completely obvious, as if Nigel was explaining to a class of five-year-olds – made Slvasta feel stupid. Which was probably the intention.

‘Check for sledges,’ he told Yannrith and Kyliki.

‘If you don’t mind me asking,’ Nigel said. ‘The arm?’

‘I fell into a Faller nest,’ Slvasta replied impassively. ‘I was being eggsumed when the Marines arrived.’

Nigel gave his nicked thumb a quick glance. ‘I haven’t met anyone who escaped that before. You were lucky.’

‘Yes.’ Slvasta tried to block out the memory of Ingmar, the awful pleading.

‘And so now you understand the threat as few ever do, you’re one hundred per cent committed to the regiment, to defending Bienvenido. That must worry your senior officers.’

‘Why do you say that?’

Nigel looked at him as if judging from on high. It was all Slvasta could do to return the stare.

‘You’re better at the task than they are. They know that and so do your troopers here. Your level of dedication will also unnerve them. Belief always does that to old men grown comfortable in their position and privilege. Comfort is the enemy of change. Comfort is easy. It’s a good meal and nights in a warm bed. Anything that challenges that is seen as dangerous.’

‘Brigadier Venize is an excellent commander.’

Nigel smiled knowingly. ‘I’m sure he is. But consider this: is he as good as you would be if you had command of the regiment?’

‘I . . . That’s a ludicrous question. I’ve only just made lieutenant.’

‘And yet I’ve known ambition like yours, lieutenant. You, of all people, must realize that the Falls will never end. That the regiments and even the Marines, Giu bless them, are nothing other than damage limitation. If the Fallers are to be defeated, first this sheep-like attitude of acceptance must be broken. After that, after the status quo – so welcome to old powerful families – has been swept away, new attitudes can prevail. Then, and only then, can we dare to dream once more, as someone said long ago. And if that ever happens, life on Bienvenido can change.’

Slvasta was aware of just how uneasy the troopers were with this talk. For himself, it was unexpected, yet Nigel spoke the right of it. These were the very thoughts he never dared to voice. He would have very much liked to sit down and have a long, long conversation with this enigmatic man. Yet . . . something about the whole encounter was wrong. Nigel seemed about as far from a gang boss as you could get – cultured, suave, self-assured beyond even a National Councillor – yet the men with him were a type Slvasta knew so well. And he still didn’t get Kysandra. The girl was clearly no simple submissive trinket Nigel owned. In fact, she didn’t seem fazed by any of this, just stood there, tired and trail-dirty, but with a superior knowing smile on her face. The way Quanda looked at me. Could some Fallers have red blood? Uracus, I’m paranoid.

‘They have sledges, sir,’ Yannrith’s ’path voice announced.

Slvasta couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not. Nigel was giving him an expectant glance – waiting patiently for him to do the right thing.

‘Stand down,’ Slvasta told his troopers.

‘Thank you,’ Nigel said as the carbines were returned to their slings and holsters. ‘Now, if you have a map, I’ll be happy to show you the area we’ve swept. Duplication is waste. And every day an egg lies free is a day it can lure someone to Fall.’

‘Of course.’ Slvasta went further under the huge wanno tree, where it was practically dry. He took out his map and unrolled it. ‘Did you get a good price for your folax?’

‘Haven’t sold it yet,’ Nigel said. ‘I’ll try again, downstream.’

‘You must be a good trader. Those boats don’t look cheap.’

‘I have a rich family.’

‘But you struck out for yourself?’

‘Yes. Estates can provide you with a very comfortable life, but it’s a life that doesn’t change. There’s never anything new. You never go anywhere or see anything fresh; you’re never challenged. That means you can never achieve anything.’

‘You’re very keen on change, aren’t you?’

Nigel raised an eyebrow. And for once his smile wasn’t mocking. ‘Don’t tell me you’re not. I haven’t seen any regiment squads as motivated as yours. That’s a substantial achievement, especially on this world. I know what it’s like to push against the dead hand of inertia and tradition. If I have any advice for you, it would be: don’t let the bastards grind you down. Keep pushing, lieutenant. That and the obvious, of course.’

‘What obvious?’ Slvasta asked, feeling helpless to stop the conversation.

‘Old law: for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. If you keep going the way you are – and I hope to Giu you do – then the effect you will have on those around you will grow larger. Ripples, my friend. People will look at you, what you’re doing, rewriting the regiment rule book, and they’ll want to do the same for themselves. That’s when you’ll start to run into resistance. That’s where the politics begins. And that’s the dirtiest fight there is.’

‘Right.’ Slvasta nodded seriously. It was as if his brain was fizzing from the impact of these words. He’d been waiting his whole life to hear them.

‘Don’t be afraid of your future,’ Nigel said earnestly. ‘You have principles. Stick with them, but don’t think that you can fight fair to achieve them. Make the deals, build alliances with anyone who’ll support you, walk away from people when it’s convenient or they’ve outlived their use. Because, trust me, your opponents will use those same skills to bury you. That’s the game. The only game. Play it well, and you can achieve miracles.’

‘That sounds . . .’

‘Cynical? Damn right. It’s a big bad world out there. Kill or be killed, son, that’s nature. But I don’t have to tell you that, do I?’

Slvasta saw Yannrith and Kyliki wading ashore. ‘Thank you.’

‘Pleasure.’ Nigel shook his hand. ‘Good luck. Axe one of those bastard eggs apart for me, huh?’

‘I will,’ Slvasta was smiling, and he couldn’t say why. This was still all very weird.

He stayed on the riverbank, watching Nigel and Kysandra wade out to the boats, holding hands. The last three horses were taken on board and settled in the mid-hold. Then the hawsers were untied. The boats puffed out steam from their aft vents as the pistons began to pump away with a loud clattering.

Slvasta waved solemnly as the boats chugged out to midstream. Nigel waved back before he and Kysandra went below deck.

Sergeant Yannrith came up beside him. ‘Orders, sir?’

It was like the breaking of a spell. Slvasta glanced up at the sky. The clouds were thinning out. Sunlight haloed the treetops, producing a perfect double rainbow. He checked his pocketwatch with a scan of ex-sight. ‘Dark in three hours. We need to connect with our horses and make camp. We’ll resume the sweep first light tomorrow.’

‘Yes, sir.’ The sergeant looked at the map Slvasta was holding. ‘Will we be sweeping the area the rangers cleared, sir?’

‘Every damn centimetre of it, sergeant.’

‘What were they really doing here? You can’t get any closer to nowhere.’

‘I have no idea.’

As the troopers picked their way back along the track Nigel had made, Slvasta sent his mod-bird flying as high as he could. His ex-sight was strong, allowing him to sense a good distance. The bird could see the two boats sailing down the river, three hundred metres away now. He hadn’t realized they were that fast. Two large specks floated effortlessly in the air above them.

Two – what did Nigel call them? Ge-eagles? Slvasta started to wonder just how long Nigel had known the squads were chasing him.