The Forgotten Way (Champions of the Crystal Book 6)

Chapter 6.1

They left early the next morning. Thad got up to bid them farewell, looking rather forlorn, Sabrina thought. "You'll do fine," she told him as she prepared to enter the airlock. "You know everything I do."

Thad had to smile at that. "Not by a long shot. But I won't let you down, Lady Sabrina. And I promise not to get any delusions of grandeur, either."

"I know you won't," Sabrina assured him, recognizing his allusion to Ford's parting remarks. "Make sure you keep in touch with Ranja. She's your staff now."

"I will. Have a safe journey, Am—Lady Sabrina."

"I'll do my best!" Sabrina promised, patting him on the shoulder and ducking into the airlock.

Ford was waiting for her at the other end with Stecklan and Ranfir. In English, he said, "Who cried more, you or him?"

"Oh, shut up," Sabrina replied.

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It was a short journey to Fiersai; the conference location had been chosen with that in mind. Even on the old ship Ranfir had come in, it took only two days. Sabrina had anticipated that she would get to know Ranfir a little better on the journey, but Ford set a demanding schedule for reviewing information and trying to create an itinerary for their observations. Having decided to take his job seriously, he was diving in with all the relentless focus he possessed, and Sabrina had to remind him that she, at least, needed sleep. That didn't stop him from waking her up in the middle of the night if he had a brilliant idea, though.

So she was tired and a little irritated when they made orbit. Feeling like an ungracious guest, she couldn't summon up a compliment for Ranfir's home more effusive than, "Lovely. How many oceans do you have?"

"That depends on whom you ask," Ranfir said. "Most of us count three, but some of the people on the southernmost continent claim the waters around their land as a fourth. There aren't very many people living there, though."

"Your arable land is mostly concentrated on the equator, isn't it?" Ford asked, although he knew perfectly well, Sabrina thought grumpily.

"Almost entirely. Our sun is smaller and a bit further away than Praxera," Ranfir said. "I think that Praxatillus was looked on more favorably by the planetary gods—you have more coastline, and therefore more areas with mild weather, than we do. Even your deserts seem small and purposefully placed."

"Not to hear people from Zarn tell it," Ford said pleasantly. "And winter in the Nô Bahgheir Mountains is no fun, either. But I do see what you mean. A good quarter of your land mass is practically uninhabitable. This planet will never be able to sustain a population the size of Praxatillus'."

"No. I have to think our colonial ancestors were either mad, or desperate," Ranfir said, not quite joking. "We had to become an agrarian society because there aren't many metals available to sustain industry or production of technology. But we'll never be a net exporter. I wonder if the refugees might not be doing the right thing for the wrong reasons."

"Leaving, you mean?" Ford said. "I take it you've never identified the planet of your species' origin?"

"No. We know that we did not evolve here, but all records of the migration were lost in antiquity. Life must have been harsh in the beginning. We seem to be genetically related to the Lthosyennes, but most analysts conclude we did not come from Lthos. Our ancestors were probably part of a failed colony elsewhere, where Lthosyennes made up a good part of the pioneers." Ranfir sighed. "Over the millennia, people have adapted to the various parts of the planet where they live. Although genetically we are all almost identical, some people choose to discriminate based on physical characteristics. Or the various dialects that our languages take. I have begun to believe that some people look for an excuse for hatred."