CHAPTER 17
Earth was the mother and her Kith Town the small motherland of every starfarer; but there were other worlds where humans dwelt. At those the ships were almost always welcome, bearers of tidings and wares that bridged, however thinly, the abysses between. It was not perennially so on Earth.
Thus, over the centuries, Tau Ceti became the sun which voyagers from afar often sought first. Its Harbor was as homelike as any known extrasolar planet, and usually at peace. News beamed from Sol arrived only eleven and a half years old; if you had felt unsure, you could now lay plans. Whether or not you went on to that terminus, here was a good place to stop for a while, do business, make fresh acquaintances and breathe fresh winds. A Kith village grew up, stabilized, and settled into its own timelessness.
Spanning the distances they did, vessels could hardly ever prearrange a rendezvous. It was occasion for rejoicing and intermingling when two happened to be in the same port. When three or more did, it meant a Fair.
Fleetwing came to Harbor and found Argosy and Eagle in orbit. Argosy was about to depart, but immediately postponed it. Profits could wait; they were no longer large anyway. Fellowship, courtship, exchange of experiences, renewal of ties, the rites that affirmed and strengthened Kith-hood, mattered more.
Ormer Shaun, second mate aboard Fleetwing, and Haki Tensaro, who dealt in textiles wherever Eagle might be, walked together through the village, bound for the story circle. Tensaro wanted to hear what Shaun would tell; they had become friendly in the past few days, and besides, a real yarn-spinning with a bardic accompaniment was an art practiced in just four ships, which did not include Eagle. The two men had met for a beer in the Orion and Bull before starting out, and continued their conversation as they proceeded. It had gradually, unintendedly, gone from merry to earnest.
“A disappointment, I admit,” Shaun said. Sounds of revelry beat beneath his words. “Not so much for me, or most of our crew. But the boy, he was really looking forward to all the ancient marvels.”
“We’re quite safe on Earth nowadays, I tell you,” Tensaro argued. “No more persecution.”
“They still don’t like us, though, do they? To go by what everybody’s been saying.”
Tensaro shrugged. “I’ve seen things better there, but I’ve seen them worse, too. I think the next generation will be pretty tolerant.”
“Up to a point. I doubt we’ll ever again be exactly popular anywhere on Earth outside of Kith Town.”
“Why not?”
Shaun paused to marshal words. He contrasted with Tensaro, who was slim and intense, clad in formfitting lusterblack with white sash and cloak, and a headband on which a miniature light fountain made a dancing cockade. Shaun stood bigger than most Kithfolk, stocky, his features rugged and his hair a dark mahogany. For his garb today he had chosen a blouse that slowly shifted color across the visible spectrum, a vest of silver links, a broad leather belt studded with Aerian eyestones, a shaggy green kilt, and knee-length boots. A beret slanted across his brow. Both outfits were traditional festival garb, but the traditions belonged to two different ships.
“Earth doesn’t have enough to do with space anymore,” Shaun said. “People get in the habit of taking their ways to be the only right and decent ways. Governments feed on that. Meanwhile we insist on being peculiar, and bringing in unheard-of notions from elsewhere, and asking troublesome questions.”
The street down which they passed seemed to belie him. Turf covered it, springy and pebble-grained underfoot, breathing a slight odor not unlike rosemary into cooling air. On one side a lyre tree curved its double trunk and feathery foliage aloft, on the other side an arachnea spread its web across a cloud tinted gold by the westering sun. The houses that lined the street stood each on its piece of lawn, among its flower beds. They were of archaic styles, tending to pastel walls and red-tiled roofs; time had softened their edges. All were currently vacant. Most of the families that owned them were afar among the stars, leaving machines to tend the property. Everyone staying here, whether as transients or permanently, had flocked off to the Fair.