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r else。。。
They passed the final battlements； and the Stranger gazed in amazement at the buildings of the Archive itself。 Wooden structures； modeled after stone monuments of Earth's revered past…the Parthenon； Edo Castle； and even a miniature Taj Mahal； whose minarets merged into four heavy pillars holding up part of the roof…of…stone。 Clearly； the founders had a taste for the dramatically ironic； for all the ancient originals had been built to last； dedicated in their day to vain resistance against time； while these buildings had a different goal…to serve a function and then vanish； as if they had never been。
Even that was too much for some people。
〃Arrog'ance！〃 muttered Jop； the tree farmer； who had chosen to e along when he learned of this expedition。 〃It all has to go； if we're ever to be blessed。〃
〃In time； it must；〃 Ariana Foo nodded； leaving vague whether she meant next week； or in a thousand years。
Sara saw fresh clay smeared over holes at the base of several great pillars。 Just like back home； she realized。 The explosers are making sure all is ready。
She could not help turning to glance behind Jop。 Taking up the rear were the last two gopher passengers； young Jomah； Henrik's son； and his uncle； Kurt。 The elder exploser bent to point out structural features to the boy； using hand motions that made Sara think of tumbling chunks of ancient granite。 She wondered if the Stranger； staring about in apparent delight； had any idea how little it would take to turn all this into rubble； indistinguishable from a hundred other places demolished by the Buyur when they departed； leaving the planet to revert to nature。
Sara felt a return of the old tightness in her shoulder blades。 It hadn't been easy； at first； being a student in this place。 Even when she had taken her books to the forest up top； to read under the shade of a homey garu tree； she could never shake off a sense that the whole plateau might shudder and collapse beneath her。 For a while； the nervous fantasies had threatened her studies…until Joshu came along。
Sara winced。 She had known it would all e back if she returned to this place。 Memories。
〃Nothing lasts forever；〃 Jop added as they neared the Athenian portico of Central Hall； unaware how stingingly the words struck Sara's private thoughts。
Ariana agreed。 〃Ifni insists on it。 Nothing can resist the goddess of change。〃
If the elder sage meant the remark to be sardonic； Sara missed her point。 She was too deep in reminiscence to care； even as they neared the giant double doors…carved from the finest wood as a gift from the qheuen race； then bound with urrish bronze； lacquered by traeki secretions and painted by g'Kek artists。 The work towered ten meters high； depicting in ornate symbolism the thing most treasured by all； the latest； best； and most hard…won acplishment of Jijo's mons in Exile。
The Great Peace。
This time； Sara hardly noticed when the Stranger gasped in appreciation。 She couldn't share his pleasure。 Not when all she felt within this place was sadness。
Asx
THE PORTRAITIST DID NOT EVEN ASK TO REST after the long； hard trek from Kandu Landing。 He set to work at once； preparing his materials…caustic chemicals and hard metals whose imperviousness to time make them suspect under mons law…yet ideal for blackmail。
Others of his guild were already here； having e to Gathering in order to sell paper photographs of visitors； guildmasters； winners at the games…anyone vain enough to want a graven image keepsake to last out a lifetime； maybe two。 A few of these skilled likeness…peddlers had offered to secretly record the invaders； but to what purpose？ Paper portraits are designed to fade and rot； not last aeons。 Better not to risk the aliens catching them in the act； and so discovering some of our hidden arts。
But Ariana； Bloor； and young Sara Koolhan appear to have e up with something different； have they not； my rings？ Despite exhaustion from the road； Bloor appeared at once before us to show off the daguerreotype。 An implausibly precise image stored on etched metal； centuries in age。 Ur…Jah trembled as she fondled the accurate depiction of a great tattooed chieftain of old。
〃If we attempt this； secrecy is essential。 Our foes must not know how few pictures were taken；〃 Phwhoon…dau pointed out； while privacy wasps swarmed our hidden tent…of…conclave； fluttering drops of bitter color from their glowing wings。
〃The sky…gods must imagine that we have scribed hundreds of plates already safely hidden far from here； in so many deep places they could never find them all。〃
〃True；〃 Vubben added； his eyestalks weaving a dance of caution。 〃But there is more。 For this to work； the portraits cannot simply show the human invaders' faces。 Of what use will that be as evidence； a million years hence？ They must include the aliens' machines； and clear Jijoan landmarks； and also the local animals they inspect as candidates for ravishment。〃
〃And their costumes； their garish garb；〃 Lester Cambel inserted urgently。 〃Any identifiers to show they are renegade humans。 Not representatives of our sept on Jijo； or of Earth。〃
We all assented to this last request； though it seems futile to satisfy。 How could a few etched plates express such fine distinctions to prosecutors so long after we are gone？
We asked Bloor to consult with our agents； bearing all these criteria in mind。 If anything es of this； it will indeed be a miracle。
We believe in miracles； do we not； my rings？ Today； the rewq in our/my pouch came out of dormant state。 So did that of Vubben； our Speaker of Ignition。 Others report stirrings。
Is it possible to call this cause for hope？ Or have they only begun awakening； as rewq sometimes do in the last stages of illness； shortly before they roll up and die？
Dwer
THE TRAIL OVER THE RIMMERS WAS STEEP AND broken。 That never mattered during Dwer's prior trips into the eastern wilderness…survey sweeps sanctioned by the sages…carrying just his bow； a map； and a few necessities。 The first time； right after old Fallon's retirement； he got so elated that he ran down to the misty plains letting gravity yank him headlong； yelling as he leaped from one teetering foothold to the next。
There was none of that now。 No exhilaration。 No contest of youth and skill against Jijo's ardent hug。 This was a sober affair； coaxing a dozen heavily laden donkeys over patches of unsteady footing； using patient firmness to overe the animals' frequent bouts of stubbornness。 He wondered how Urrish traders made it look so easy； guiding their pack trains with shrill； clipped whistles。
And they say these things e from Earth？ he wondered； dragging yet another donkey out of trouble。 Dwer wasn't warm to the idea of being a close genetic cousin to such creatures。
Then there were the human charges he must also shepherd into the wilderness。
In fairness； it could have been worse。 Danel Ozawa was an experienced forester； and the two women were strong； with their own unique skills。 Still； nothing back on the tame Slope pared to this kind of trekking。 Dwer found himself frequently moving up and down the train； helping his panions out of jams。
He wasn't sure which unnerved him more； the stolid indifference of Lena Strong or the gawky friendliness of Jenin Worley； frequently catching his eye with a shy smile。 They had been obvious choices； since Jenin and Lena were already at Gathering to lobby for their 〃tourism〃 idea…hoping to enlist Dwer's help； and approval from the sages； to start taking groups of 〃sight…seers〃 over the Rimmers。
In other words； bright people with too much time on their hands； overly influenced by notions they found in old Earth books。
I was going to fight it。 Even same…sex groups risked violating the anti…sooner covenant。
But now…I'm part of a scheme to break the law I'm sworn to uphold。
He couldn't help glancing repeatedly at the two women； the same way they were surely appraising him。
They sure looked。。。 healthy。
You're a true wild man now。 Learn to prize the honest virtues of wild females。
There would be women in the Gray Hills； too； but Rety said most of them began childbirth at fourteen。 Few kept more than half their teeth past age thirty。
There was supposed to be a second group of volunteer exiles from the Slope； following behind this one。 For their sake； Dwer smeared dabs of porl paste on prominent landmarks every half a midura or so； blazing a trail any moderately petent Jijoan could follow； but that should be untraceable by Galactic raiders or their all…seeing machinery。
Dwer would rather be home at the bitter end； preparing to fight hopelessly against the aliens； alongside other militia soldiers of the Six。 But no one was better qualified to lead this expedition to the Gray Hills； and he had given Danel his word。
So now I'm a tour…guide； after all； he thought。
If only he felt sure it was right。
What are we doing？ Fleeing to another place we don't belong； just like our sinner ancestors？ It made Dwer's head ache to think about such things。 Just please don't let Lark find out what I'm doing。 It'd break his bean。
The trek grew a little easier when they spilled off the mountain onto a high steppe。 But unlike his other expeditions； this time Dwer turned south； toward a rolling domain of bitter yellow grass。 Soon they were stomping through a prairie of calf…high shoots； whose florets had sharp tips； forcing the humans…and even the donkeys…to wear leather leggings for protection。
No one plained； or even murmured disfort。 Danel and the others took his guidance without question； wiping sweat from their hat brims and collars as they slogged alongside the stolid donkeys。 Fortunately； scattered oases of real forest helped Dwer pilot the pany from one water source to the next； leaving markers for the next group。
Rety must've been dogged to cross all this； chasing after her damn bird。
Dwer had suggested waiting for the girl。 〃She's your real guide；〃 he had told Danel。
〃Not true；〃 Ozawa demurred。 〃Would you trust her advice？ She might steer us wrong in some misguided gesture to protect her loved ones。〃
Or to avoid ever seeing them again。 Still； Dwer wished Rety had made it back in time to depart with this group。 He kind of missed her； sullen sarcasm and all。
He called a halt at a large oasis； more than an hour before sunset。 〃The mountains will cut off daylight early；〃 he told the others。 Westward； the peaks were already surrounded by a nimbus of yellow…orange。 〃You three should clear the water hole； tend the animals； and set up camp。〃
〃And where are you going？〃 Lena Strong asked sharply； mopping her brow。
Dwer strapped on his hip quiver。 〃To see about shooting some supper。〃
She gestured at the sterile…looking steppe。 〃What； here？〃
〃It's worth a try； Lena；〃 Danel said； slashing at some yellow grass with a stick。 〃With the donkeys unable to eat this stuff； our grain must last till we hit hill country； where they can forage。 A little meat for the four of us could help a lot。〃
Dwer didn't bother adding anything to that。 He set out down one of the narrow critter byways threading the spiky grass。 It was some distance before he managed to put the donkey stench behind him； as well as the penetrating murmur of his panions' voices。
It's a bad idea to be noisy when the universe is full of things tougher than you are。 But that never stopped humans； did it？
He sniffed the air and watched the sway of thigh…high grass。 In this kind of prairie； it was even more imperative to hunt upwind not only because of scent； but so the breeze might help hinder the racket of your own trampling feet from reaching the quarry…in this case a covey of bush quaile he sensed pecking and scratching； a dozen or so meters ahead。
Dwer nocked an arrow and stepped as stealthfully as he could； breathing shallowly； until he picked out soft chittering sounds amid the brushing stems。。。 a tiny ruckus of claws scratching sandy loam。。。 sharp beaks pecking for seeds。。。 a gentle； motherly cluck。。。 answering peeps as hatchlings sought a feathery breast。。。 the faint puffs of junior adults； relaying news from the periphery that all is well。 All i