Strata

strange way it wouldn’t be so bad for the other two. They would be aliens, marooned on a strange world.
She
would be marooned among people. It was possible that she had more in common with Silver and Marco than she did with the barbarians down there. It was a dreadful possibility.
    ‘These belts are supposed to be able to fly you half-way across a system and land you on a planet,’ she complained.
    ‘They were not expected to carry people thousands of miles against gravity, including many changes of altitude,’ said Marco. ‘It is most vexing.’
    ‘Vexing!’
    ‘If you feel so strongly, I suggest you make a complaint to the manufacturers.’
    ‘How can – was that a joke?’ said Kin. ‘Good grief!’
    Dawn saw them flying over semi-desert and scrub, in a sky free of clouds. Once they passed over a camel train, almost invisible were it not for its skeletal, juddering shadow on the sand.
    They had drifted slightly off their course during the night, and as far as Marco could estimate were speeding down the Tigris-Euphrates valley.
    ‘That puts us in south-east Turkey,’ saidMarco, and added wistfully, ‘That means Baghdad. I should like to have seen Baghdad.’
    ‘Why?’ said Kin.
    ‘Oh, when I was a kid my foster-folks bought me a book of fantasy stories about, well, genies and magic lamps and such. It made a big impression on me.’
    ‘Don’t suggest landing,’ said Kin. ‘Don’t even
think
about it.’
    But they passed over a city of low white houses surrounding palaces and strangely domed buildings. A tent town lay outside the walls. The river the city straddled was noticeably a different colour downstream, and low enough between its banks to speak of drought. Now the sun was well up the ground shimmered.
    A mile later Silver’s belt failed. There was no question of a crash – instead all forward power ceased as the batteries’ waning ergs buoyed her gently to the ground.
    The others followed her down into a grove of knotted, sweet-smelling trees. When Kin took off her helmet the heat hit her like the breath of Hell.
Too
hot, she decided. No wonder the fields looked scorched. From here the river was a blood-coloured snake winding weakly between slabs of cracked mud.
    ‘Well,’ she said vaguely. She meant This Is It.
    ‘I am at a loss,’ said Marco, moving hurriedly into the heady shade under the trees.
    ‘You mean you don’t have a plan?’
    ‘Your meaning?’
    ‘Oh, forget it.’ Kin took a sip of water from the suit’s reservoir. Have to be careful about that, too.
    Silver sat with her back against a trunk, staring vaguely at the city. Behind her the sun was a copper rivet in a sky like hot iron.
    Then she commented, ‘An aircraft has just risen.’
    He was old in looks at least, his face wrinkled like an old apple. His grey beard was intricately styled. His eyes seemed to show neither whites nor expression. Certainly he did not seem surprised.
    Disc builder? While Kin watched him and Silver talking, facing each other crosslegged under the trees, she thought hard and fast. His clothing didn’t look anything but barbarously splendid, but she was no arbiter of disc fashion. His craft was technologically advanced, and he knew how to use it – at the moment it was folded up inside a pouch on the belt of his travelling companion, a large broad man wearing nothing but a loincloth and a dour expression. He held a long curved sword, and his eyes never left Marco.
    Kin slid across to the kung.
    ‘I wonder where he keeps his antipersonnel blaster?’ she asked. ‘Marco, you know you andSilver had this idea about how I could survive on the disc by using sex?’
    ‘You have that advantage, yes.’
    ‘Well, forget it.’
    ‘Your meaning?’
    ‘Just forget it. Our fat friend with the sword is—’ She stopped, furious to feel herself reddening. ‘Marco, can’t you recall
anything
else from that storybook?’
    Marco’s face was blank for a while. Then he winced. ‘Ah, yes,’ he said. ‘You mean, like,
unique
.’
    ‘Not too unique for this time and place,’ said Kin, and turned towards Silver. The shand looked up at her.
    ‘This could be Arabic,’ she said. ‘I’ve never heard it spoken. I’ve tried a bit of Latin, which I think he understands but he’s not letting on. The only thing I’ve established so far is that he wants our suits.’
    Kin and Marco exchanged glances. A look of almost Ehftnic guile spread across the kung’s face.
    ‘Tell him they’re very