Orion Shall Rise

by Poul Anderson

  He welcomed the chance to forget Luna and talk about yonder globe. Perhaps it was a minor triumph, when set against the briefest cosmic voyage, but it was among the few triumphs that had endured.

  ‘Not a balloon,’ he corrected. ‘A rigid configuration like this airship we’re on. Different principle, however. That framework saves weight by relying on tensile much more than compression strength. And the sphere isn’t full of hydrogen, with an anticatalyst against fire. It’s essentially two skins of polymer, the inner one equipped with light absorbers. Sunlight gets trapped and heats the air at the middle; greenhouse effect, we say. The pressure stays the same because of that vent at the bottom, but the air inside is less dense because of its high temperature, so buoyancy equals thousands of tonnes. The sun supplies energy for everything else too, by way of solar cells and thermal converters. Energy to run all apparatus, maintain a comfortable environment, replenish nighttime radiation losses, power factories and synthetic fuel plants on the ground by microwave transmission – and those motors. Skyholm’s engines don’t burn anything; they’re electrically driven fan jets.’

  He stopped for breath. ‘Thank you for the lecture,’ she said. ‘But it’s more information than I can absorb in five minutes.’

  He swallowed, then saw wryly that he had been delivering a short version of a talk he intended to give the youngest of his students. They needed solid facts as well as whatever inspiration Skyholm itself, and he as a popular hero, could provide. The years between enrollment at six and graduation at twenty were arduous. They seemed interminable to a little boy or girl; those whom he would instruct in high-altitude flight were sixteen and over.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said as before, and wondered if he truly was. Other women did not require endless apologies and reconciliations. Sesi in Kemper danced across memory. Yes, he must go back – though mainly for companionship with Plik of the songs.…

  Faylis left him, to seek the prismatic downviewer around which several fellow passengers were clustered. ‘Gaea!’ she cried softly.

  He joined her. The sight was; old to him, but not the less imperial for that. Seen from thirty kilometers of altitude, their planet curved away across the length and breadth of the Domain, green, brown, white-swirled with clouds. Rivers, lakes, Gulf lay burnished, Angleylann and Eria like emeralds on the silver band of their channels. Along the edge of the world, a narrow blue-white ribbon deepened upward to azure and thence to the abyssal clarity which surrounded him.

  With an effort, he dismissed from his mind the name she had uttered. It was not unnatural for her to use ‘Gaea’ for the living Earth. Quite a few people did these days who were anything but Gaeans. He laid an arm about her marvelously slim waist.

  A steward entered the cabin from the control section of the gondola. ‘Sirs, ladies, we are preparing to rendezvous,’ he announced. ‘Please take your seats and secure your harnesses.’

  ‘Why!’ Faylis asked Iern. ‘It’s calm outside, isn’t it?’

  He found relief in explaining. ‘The vent that I mentioned causes turbulence. Also, often Skyholm’s engines have to be on, to maintain position against winds. Yes, the stratosphere has winds; they’re thin but fast. A lighter-than-air ship is a clumsy thing, except for fuel efficiency. A jet operating nearby can bounce it around.’

  ‘I see.’ She swayed against him, and they settled down, and everything was glorious –

  – until the dirigible moored, and a pressure tube extended through which they debarked, and waiting in the reception area was Talence Jovain Aurillac.

  His greeting was courteous, though, and he was entitled to be here. True, he must have exchanged his term with somebody else; and he must have gotten the dates from Faylis. Yet Iern could not forbid anyone to make such bargains, nor forbid her to correspond with a friend who had met her before he did. Skyholm belonged to all the Clansfolk.

  The Thirty took unto themselves wives and husbands from among the people over whom they had assumed authority, were fruitful and multiplied. Later generations built new living quarters for their larger numbers, until they reached a limit. More dwellers meant either sacrificing space devoted to scientific and military capabilities, which was unthinkable, or crowding unpleasantly close together. By then the original families had become the Clans, marrying only among each other save when they adopted worthy groundlings into their ranks; their properties in the Domain were widespread and prosperous; converting apartments into barracks would be absurd. Instead, they changed their law.

  None but the Captain and his or her immediate kin might stay permanently aloft, and through the following centuries, few Captains chose to do so. If nothing else, background radiation in the stratosphere was stronger than it now was anyplace where nuclear weapons had wrought their havoc during the Judgment. From time to time an individual, generally a dedicated scientist, petitioned for an extended leave of residence, which was granted if the reason was valid, and of course that person’s spouse and children got the same privilege; but those cases were exceptional.

  Gradually the population of Skyholm stabilized around two thousand, with slight fluctuations. About half were adults. Approximately a hundred were officers and technicians, serving tours of duty, together with marriage partners of these. (Professional staff alternated three years here, with frequent visits ground-side, and three years at support facilities throughout the Domain.) More than half the subadult group were Cadets, in training for eventual commissions; it demanded several sessions in the aerostat.

  The remaining persons were there for the month which was the right of every grown Clan member, every seven years. At certain times, others arrived – the Seniors, to decide matters of great moment, perform the rituals of summer and winter solstice, or give the most honored of the dead a funeral. It was fitting and proper that all should thus have their parts in the life of Skyholm. They shared no single creed; in the eyes of many, the services that the chaplains conducted were merely another of the traditions which it would be ill-bred to flout; but to each of them, in some deep and inexpressible sense, Skyholm was holy.

  Or so the case had been through cycle after cycle of birth, begetting, and death. In the end, time wears everything away, even sacredness.

  CHAPTER SIX

  After the house in Tournev, not to speak of ancestral estates in different regions, an apartment in Skyholm felt still more meager than it was. Of its three chambers, the bedroom had just enough floor space that Faylis and Iern could reach the bed. The one that combined kitchen and dining area was scarcely bigger, equipped with only a sink and a minuscule electric stove. Refrigeration lockers, like the bathroom, were at the end of a corridor onto which opened the doors of those half-dozen couples who shared them. For the first time in her life, she must do her own cooking, housecleaning, and laundry. She hated the chores and did them badly, with bursts of rage or tears. Before long she and Iern were eating their suppers in the aerostat’s single restaurant; other meals consisted chiefly of sandwiches.

  The living room was somewhat larger and much more gracious. However, it was windowless, the habitations being inboard of the working sections. Fluorescent panels and landscape paintings could not open a way out of her feeling of imprisonment. Anyhow, they weren’t her pictures, they had been hung there by people generations in the grave, nor were the draperies and carpet and lightweight furniture hers. Thank foresight that she’d brought along a number of books. But she hadn’t expected that her stay in heaven would give her an opportunity to catch up on her reading.

  A knock at the door brought her from it. She hurried across the floor with her heart aflutter. Who –? Iern was at work, and as for Jovain, she was to meet him this afternoon.

  Opening, she saw an auburn-haired young woman in an elegant, if slightly immodest, calf-length gown. ‘Blessing be upon you,’ the stranger greeted formally, but with a wide smile. ‘If this is an intrusion, I depart in good will.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ Faylis said. ‘Please come in.’

  The o
ther did. They exchanged respects, hands crossed on bosoms, heads bowed. ‘I’m Ricasoli Anjelan Scout,’ the newcomer explained. ‘We haven’t met because my friend and I are three halls away. We’re taking our month … and to think it’s half gone already, and not till yesterday did we learn that Talence Iern Ferlay has been here all along! You can imagine how thrilled we were. I came to ask if you’d care to visit us.’

  ‘Why, why, yes, of course. Thank you. Won’t you sit down? I’ll make coffee.’

  ‘No, please don’t.’ Anjelan laughed. ‘That would be a poor way to start an acquaintance, putting you to such an expense.’

  ‘A glass of wine, then?’ On getting agreement, Faylis set forth a decanter and goblets. They were beautiful antique crystal, but they belonged to Skyholm, not her.

  Anjelan quickly made herself welcome. Her chatter was vivacious and amicable and it broke the solitude. By birth she was of Clan Bergdorff, from Toulou in the South. Lately she had divorced – something which no few of her age group had decided was not a betrayal of kinship, as their forebears had supposed – and was now sharing quarters with one of her lovers. The settlement had given her an independent income, and she saw no reason to work. ‘Not that I’m selfish,’ she added. ‘At home I belong to a little theater society. We go on tour for three weeks every year – bring some culture to the pysans, you know, or at least a bit of fun. Maybe it makes them less restless.’ She cocked her head. ‘I hope I haven’t shocked you.’

  ‘No,’ Faylis replied, unsure whether or not she quite spoke truth. ‘I know there are many nowadays who think like you, and who am I to call it wrong? Foreigners and their ideas have been arriving ever since the Isolation Era ended, and it’s becoming a flood. Inevitably, that forces us to question our own assumptions.’

  Anjelan regarded her. ‘You’re different, aren’t you, dear?’

  ‘Well, I was a student when I met Iern, and since we got married, most of the people we see have been, are, they’re inclined to be old-fashioned and make a big thing out of duty.’ Most of the people we see, passed through her. Not those he goes off to make merry with.

  ‘And you’re a very serious person, too; that’s clear.’ Anjelan’s glance dropped to an open book on the table between them. ‘A reader. My, that does look learned, as thick as it is. What’s it about?’ She leaned closer, to see the title at the head of a page. ‘Principles of Gaean Thought. Oh!’ She straightened in her chair and registered some shock of her own. ‘Is that your religion? I’d never have guessed.’

  ‘Gaeanity is not a religion,’ Faylis answered ‘It’s a set of insights and practices.’

  ‘Really? I don’t want to be rude, but frankly, I always took for granted – a cult that began among barbarian nomads away off in Merique –’

  ‘The Mong are not barbarians,’ Faylis declared with a touch of irritation. ‘They’re not exactly nomads, either. They’ve been civilized for centuries, even though it’s a civilization unlike ours.’

  ‘But – do forgive me; I’m fascinated – we hear about the danger from Espayn – yes, I distinctly remember an article in a newspaper, quoting your husband as calling Gaeanity a menace.’

  ‘I am not required to share his every opinion. Being in the Air Force, he’s naturally concerned about military threats. But I think he exaggerates our problems with Espayn. Yes, the Domain tried to keep Lonzo from conquering the larger part of Iberya, but failed, and the Zhenerals have held that against us ever since – especially when we did later force them out of Italya. And yes, Gaean missionaries have made many converts there, who’re anxious to convince everybody else. But they aren’t plotting to invade us. I have a close friend whose estate is in the Pryny Mountains, in Eskual-Herria Nord, on the very border. He fought in the Italyan campaign, by the way. And he says the Espaynian leaders aren’t insane. They may nibble away here and there on the fringes, where Skyholm is below the horizon, but that’s normal. Think about the tribes beyond the Rhin.’

  ‘You are an interesting person, Faylis,’ Anjelan said. ‘So quiet, until the fire lights in you.’ She paused. ‘Could you explain to me, then, what Gaeanity is? I never paid attention before, I only heard what you’d call the clichés.’

  Faylis relaxed, touched in spite of herself, and smiled. ‘That’s what Iern would describe as a three-bottle mission,’ she replied. ‘I couldn’t possibly in an hour – and mind you, I’m not a Gaean. Not yet. Maybe I never will actually embrace the philosophy. But I’m learning whatever I can, because I do think there’s a basic, really basic truth in it.’

  ‘Could you give me just a few words?’

  ‘Well, let me read them to you.’ Faylis picked up the book and turned back to its preface. As she pronounced the sentences, her voice grew low and it was as if something glowed within her.

  ‘“Life upon Earth is One. This is no metaphor. It is a statement of fact, simple and tremendous.

  ‘“Nor is this knowledge altogether new. Some faiths, most notably in Hinja, have maintained from time immemorial that existence has a fundamental unity. Ancient records, lately discovered by archeologists and studied by historians, show that toward the end of the Age of Plenty, a few thinkers were expressing the idea in secular terms.

  ‘“The War of Judgment cast their work into oblivion. Karakan Afremovek never heard of it. But that Yuanese philosopherecologist, inspired by the Buddhism and Christianity of his nation but drawing on scientific principles, reached the same conclusion, and proceeded thence to understand the nature of Gaea.

  ‘“The core teaching is this: that Gaea, our living planet, is a single organism. From the first chemical stirrings in primordial oceans, onward to human awareness, a force within life has made it bring about its own evolution toward ever greater majesty and meaning. That evolution has not ended with us. It will go on as long as Gaea Herself endures.

  ‘“We are organs, or rather organelles, that She has developed in order that She may think. We no more exist separately from Her than the cells of our bodies exist, in any viable fashion, separately from us. We live because we belong; we serve the immense Oneness, as does every animal, plant, or lowliest microbe.

  ‘“The teaching of Karakan is true. Therefore it is not sentimental. Evolution has thus far been the working of a blind force, often going wrong though always in the end correcting itself The brain that humanity has provided life with is primitive. Intelligence went horribly astray in the Age of Plenty, when a recklessly exploitative industrial civilization degraded the biosphere and could have destroyed it, like a cancer destroying a man. The War of Judgment was not a plain human mistake, an unleashing of powers more vast and lethal than anyone had truly comprehended. It was a fever whereby Gaea freed Herself of a disease.

  ‘“Let us never forget. Else the Life Force may well cast us off entirely, as it cast off the dinosaurs, and spend the next few millions of years evolving a creature that is both sentient and sane. Our part is to serve the supreme organism of which we are a part. Ours is to revere life, while developing ourselves as human beings because that is to develop an aspect of Gaea.”’

  Anjelan threw up her hands. ‘Stop!’ she laughed. ‘It’s far too heavy for me.’

  Faylis took the volume off her lap and reached for her wine. ‘But I hope you’ll agree it isn’t a jumble of pagan superstitions,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, indeed. I’m impressed. Though I’m afraid it’s scarcely my cup of tea.’

  ‘Hm-m, all kinds of people have accepted it. I admit, no doubt most of them have quite a superficial understanding, and get much of it wrong. Really studying it is hard work.’

  ‘And you’re such a studious type. I suppose you think I’m shallow.’

  ‘Oh, no –’

  ‘I don’t pretend to be deep. I only like to enjoy myself. What else is there in life?’ Quickly: ‘Yes, dear, you’ve tried to explain what there is… for you. But don’t you like a good time now and then?’

  Faylis bit her lip. ‘When it happens.’

 
; Anjelan grew sympathetic. ‘Not so often, am I right? Your man’s work keeps him away from home a great deal, and you haven’t anybody else, and your associates aren’t too sprightly, are they?’ Her smile turned sour. ‘And be honest, Skyholm has been a disappointment, hasn’t it? It has to me. I don’t care for the sports in the gymnasium. Plays, concerts, lectures get boring. The dances and other social activities are unimaginative. Meditation on the centuries of history around us – ha!’

  Faylis smiled faintly. ‘I admire your frankness.’

  Anjelan leaned across the table and patted her hostess’ hand. ‘Well, my Zhoen and I can help you to some pleasure while we’re here. And you can help us. Everything I’ve read or heard about Iern says he’s a jolly sort when he chooses to be. When can you come?’

  ‘I’ll have to ask him, but surely soon.’

  ‘Good. I’m an excellent cook, even with this miserable equipment, so bring an appetite. Afterward – well, I own a record player and took it along. I have unusual discs for it, too. Have you heard the Balearic Ensemble? Super-erotic. Especially when you’re smoking – Now don’t look that disapproving. We won’t press it on you, if you don’t want any, but really, marijuana isn’t for brutish back-country yokels. Most young Clansfolk use it, at least in my circle, and take no harm.’

  ‘Um, would you care for some more wine?’

  – Both women were mellowed when Anjelan left. At the door she said, ‘One last thing, darling. Your husband has been my hero ever since he rode into that hurricane. Would you mind if I borrow him? A girl I know has told me he’s fabulous in bed.’

  Faylis could only stare. In a peripheral, half-denying fashion she had recognized that Iern did not always sleep by himself when away from home. Perhaps he seldom did. But if this was common gossip –