Slvasta helped the crew operate the locks they came to, which were built along the side of great stone weirs where river water churned and foamed vigorously as it dropped several metres. He marvelled at the massive wooden doors as he pushed hard at the long oak balance beam to open one, the size and ease of the operation putting into perspective the engineering and labour that had gone into taming the river over the centuries. With the economics texts fresh in his mind, he could comprehend the effort that generations had expended to develop this quiet corner of Bienvenido into a steady agricultural and mining community. Once again it forced him to confront how big the world was, how difficult to govern. The Captain’s rule might not be enlightened, but it did work. Now here he was, coming along to change an evolutionary development, motivated by little more than exasperation. If we succeed, so much will change, and no doubt there are going to be deaths, too. Do I have the right to instigate such an upheaval? Perhaps it is just fear that makes me think violence is the only way to transform the system. Violence: the brutish solution of the ignorant who know they could never get enough people to vote for them.

Bethaneve certainly thought theirs was the only way. The right way. She never had these moments of self-doubt the way he did; because of her job at the centre of government, she could see how the Captain and his allies had corrupted the system so nothing could change. It was the chaos and suffering which would surely swarm the capital that Slvasta dreaded most. When he examined his life, there were times when he simply didn’t understand how he had come to be in such a position.

*

Adeone was a pleasant enough market town, grown up around the original stony river crossing where the pioneers forded the water to reach the Pirit Wolds. It was a natural point for the farmers who’d arrived back during Arnithan’s captaincy to cultivate the rich loamy soil around the edges of the wolds, to bring their produce to the boats. Then later when modest malachite deposits had been found in the Algory mountains to the east, the wharfs had been extended to carry the mineral downstream to the larger towns and cities where smelters awaited.

As the longbarge tied up at a wharf, Slvasta admired the impressive stone bridge that had long since replaced the ford. Warehouses formed a near-solid cliff behind the waterfront. The brick and timber houses that spread out beyond were pleasant, though hardly extravagant. Adeone was just another provincial copy of Dios. Smaller and shabbier, but with a sense of purpose, its citizens knowing they were secure in their position, that nothing was going to upset their way of life.

Two horses were waiting for them in the stables of the local coaching inn. Slvasta mounted a terrestrial chestnut mare while Russell claimed a stolid mod-horse with a bristly grey hide which could take his weight easily.

As they rode out of Adeone he realized there were none of the usual Shanties cluttering its outskirts, which surprised him; rural areas were notoriously short of jobs. Here, the road was lined by terrestrial cedars, the tallest of which were easily two hundred years old. Their unique flattened branches arched out high above Slvasta’s head to merge across the track of muddy stone, filling the air with their distinctive sharp scent after the rain. Where some of the ancient titans had fallen, new trees had already been planted; the local council was clearly quite efficient, taking its obligations seriously.

It was late afternoon when they began their trek. Behind him, the sinking sun produced red-gold rays that cut down at a low angle past the thick tree trunks. Slvasta had to ride to the side of the road, there were so many carts using it. He enjoyed the bustle and confidence he sensed radiating out from people. The whole area put him in mind of his early childhood, when the world was a pleasant and happy place.

The sun was setting when they came to a major junction. Two big greenswards split off north and south – one carrying on with the line of cedars, the other marked by the drooping pink leaves of thrasta trees. There were also two new roads, their trees barely three metres high. Russell set off down one defined by blue-grey follrux saplings whose prickly leaves were already folding up as the sunlight shrank away. The land was wilder here, with deeper valleys; the farms were smaller, and the forests larger. Directly ahead, he could just see the snow-tipped crowns of the Algory mountain range catching the last of the sun, like glowing beacon fires against the darkening sky.

Although they were now clearly at the frontier of civilization, the road they travelled was extremely well used, with fresh stone laid to keep the mud at bay. Russell turned off down a track unmarked by trees, winding through a wide gash in a forest. Slvasta saw an ageing sign nailed to a tree, with vines already coiling round the edges. BLAIR FARM was carved crudely into the wood. The ground began to rise on both sides, and nasty clouds of small tatus flies emerged from the thick trees to buzz round Slvasta’s head. He extended his shell to ward them off; they clearly had a thirst for human blood.

Finally, they rounded a curve, and a valley unfolded ahead. The land along the bottom had been cleared of trees and laid out in a chequerboard of fields. A large farm compound stood just short of the treeline, with long wooden barns in perfect rows. For an unpleasant moment, Slvasta was back on patrol approaching the Shilo compound.

As they approached, Slvasta let his ex-sight range through the buildings. The timber barns were all new. Indeed, one of them was a timber mill, with a steam engine powering a couple of saws. Four hulking traction engines were puffing their way home from the fields they’d been ploughing, pistons clanking loudly in the still evening air. Nearly half of the barns were full of stalls or cages with a huge variety of mods, which made him even more uneasy. He was astonished by the amount of activity and the number of people out here. A couple of the barns were dormitories. One was nothing more than a coal store. Other barns housed heavy machinery, stamping out shapes of metal which were carried to long benches where dozens of mod-dwarfs sat assembling odd pieces of equipment. Furnaces burnt hotly, powering all sorts of unfamiliar devices. Then there were the long sheds at the far end of the compound, protected by the most effective fuzz he’d encountered.

The farmhouse itself was a normal two-storey affair, with a veranda along the front and roses climbing up the gable ends. A bright light shone welcomingly out of every window. It was a lot whiter than the oil lamps he was familiar with. He tied his horse up on the rail beside the paddock. With a grin, Russell showed him through the front door. That was when Slvasta realized he’d never actually jabbed a pin into Russell’s thumb to check his blood. So much for him being the smart one, as Bethaneve claimed, but at least he had his pistol. While walking into the home of a weapons merchant. Anxiety made his stomach churn as he crossed the threshold.

The centre of the house was a large hallway with a curving stair that led up to a long landing. By now Slvasta wasn’t at all surprised by how pleasant the interior of the farmhouse was, with plush furniture and thick carpets. The too-white lights hung from the ceiling, strange glass globes that shone with a uniform monochrome brilliance.

Someone was coming down the stairs. A man shedding his fuzz to smile knowingly, allowing a certain degree of lofty amusement to radiate out through his shell.

Recognition locked Slvasta’s muscles tight. ‘You!’ he grunted in shock.

‘Good to see you again, lieutenant,’ Nigel said.