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brought a can of soup from the makeshift galley and she sipped it, asking Page 240
herself silently, again and again, Why here? Why open a gate here? Who could have followed Patrikia to this Gaia, and who would want to?
There had been no messages on the teukhos for the past two days. This evening, however, she flipped the switch and saw her grandmother's words again. She had been no witch, after all; she was still advising Rhita about politics in Alexandreia, a world to all intents and purposes lost to her granddaughter now. Rhita read the long message and closed her eyes, somewhat relieved; for a time, she had thought perhaps Patrikia was staring over her shoulder, holding her accountable. Now it was apparent that the Soph had been mortal, after all.
Exhausted, Rhita turned off the slate, packed it into its goatleather case, and turned down the kerosene lantern. In other parts of the tent, 'all was quiet. Outside, the day's gentle wind had settled, and the prairie was wrapped in expansive silence, with thousands of stadia of emptiness all around.
TWENTY-FIVE
Thistledown City
Lanier, feeling a need for simple amusement, rearranged the decor of his guest quarters below the Nexus dome. He walked from room to room in the palatial suite, giving voice instructions. "Polynesian," he said in the dining hall, currently austere, sharp-edged and classical. The decor projectors searched their' period memories and produced a fire-and torch-lit ceremonial chamber, matted with brown and white tapas, set with Page 241
wooden bowls. The walls were constructed of palm logs and faced with more matting woven of grass and palm leaves.
"Very good," he approved. By making fun of such marvels, he felt he could soothe his wizened little ego, or at least put himself in a better mood.
Once, powerful governors---senators, presiding ministers and even presidents--had lodged in these quarters. The rooms had been empty for
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