We’re going to get the CX. It’s too late for these fights. The Fuards have the three-system bulge, and we’ll have to accept some sort of terms from Accord. We don’t have the ships or the technology. But we can when Jock or Cindi enters the Academy—if they choose to. That’s up to them, but because they’re children of a man who won the Emperor’s Cross, their admission is automatic. Perhaps they’ll reject the Service. I hope not, because we need them.
I wish I could offer more comfort, more warmth. You and Mort had so much, and I always looked at you two in awe. I’ve tried to do what I can, to give some meaning to what Mort had to do, and I hope you understand.
Blaine
LXXVIII
FROM THE COPILOT’S seat, Jimjoy took a deep breath, exhaling, trying to get the stench of burned wood, charred flesh, and death from his nostrils. He hated to think of the immediate aftermath of the attack. The situation on Thalos had been bad enough—with just secondary damage.
On Accord itself, the casualties had been the western half of Harmony, the equatorial marine research station, for whatever reason, and Parundia Town proper. The Institute had been spared.
Just from one corvette with a few remaining tacheads. He shuddered, thinking how little would have been left had battle cruisers gotten through.
A flash of light seared across the western horizon, visible even in the bright winter sun.
“Know what that was, Professor?” asked Kursman.
“Oh, that? Suspect it was either a large chunk of former spacecraft or a sharp-stone remnant.”
“Sharp stone?” questioned the pilot.
Belatedly realizing he had never briefed the planetside Ecolitans on the details of the space defenses, Jimjoy shook his head slowly, then pulled at his chin. “A chunk of one of the asteroids we threw at the Imperial fleet.”
“Oh…”
Still smelling death in his nostrils, despite the airflow through the cockpit, Jimjoy let the subject drop.
As the Institute appeared in the flitter’s front windscreen, Kursman eased the nose back, bleeding off airspeed, and began rotor deployment.
Thwop…thwop, thwop…
“Greenpax ops, Prime one, on final descent this time.”
Jimjoy glanced at the final lineup, noting that Kursman was not lined up for the flitter area, but for the open grass opposite the main Administration building.
More unusual was the small crowd of Ecolitans gathered here.
He looked again, realizing that the crowd was not nearly so small, perhaps several hundred people—all in green.
He looked over at Kursman, but the pilot appeared intent on making the landing, and with the westward approach and the sun cascading across the dark helmet visor, Jimjoy could only make out a determined set to the young pilot’s jaw.
Jimjoy shifted his glance to the instruments, relieved that Kursman was on target for a letter-perfect approach.
The last thing he wanted was a welcoming committee, especially after the carnage in Harmony and the destruction of Thalos topside. At least he’d had enough sense to order the evacuation to the outlying Thalos facilities. That had held down the casualties there. You couldn’t evacuate an entire planet, but he should have thought of Harmony. He should have. It was the only real target on all Accord—except for the Institute.
Thwop, thwop, thwop…. The increasing volume of the rotors brought his attention back to the flitter and the waiting crowd. He had sent a message to Thelina, not to the entire Institute, hoping to see her first, to explain.
He pulled at his chin and straightened in the copilot’s seat as Kursman executed a perfect flair and touchdown in the center of the grass patch before the Administration building.
“We’re here, ser,” Kursman turned to Jimjoy, a wide grin on his face, even before starting the shutdown checklist. “I’ll get us shut down as quickly as possible.”
Jimjoy nodded and looked beyond the rotor blade path at the crowd. He thought he saw Thelina, tall, silver hair swirled by the rotor wash, in the small subgroup closest to the flitter. He slowly pulled off his helmet.
Thwop, thwop…thwop…thwop…The rotors came to a halt.
“Shutdown complete, ser.”
Jimjoy slid open his door and stepped out into the silence, glancing from one side of the crowd to the other, catching one set of eyes, then another. All of them were waiting. He almost shrugged, instead raised his hand in greeting, knowing there was nothing he could say. Nothing at all.
The silence persisted, except for a few whispers, as he started toward Thelina. With her were Meryl, Elias, Dr. Narlian, and a man he did not recognize at first. He thought, then remembered. Clarenz Hedricht, the Council Chairman. Obviously, he hadn’t been in Harmony when the tachead hit.
The group stepped forward toward him.
Jimjoy focused on Thelina, whose face remained almost impassive, and whose tunic seemed too tight in front. She carried a small carved box.
Regardless of the crowd that began to curl around to see what was happening, Jimjoy wanted to run to her, to hold her.
Her eyes reached him, and she mouthed, “No. Not now.”
The group of four stopped. Since it was clearly expected of him, he stopped, too. They couldn’t be doing this, he thought. Not now.
“James Joyson Whaler.” Meryl’s voice was pitched to carry to the entire group. “You have put action above ceremony. Results above position. You have never spared yourself in following your principles. You have set an example for all future Ecolitans.
“Today, following that example of avoiding ceremony, of doing what should be done, we are gathered together. We declare that for your example, for providing leadership when all Accord needed leadership, for inspiring and motivating all people, and for bringing freedom to the entire Coordinate, the Institute’s electors, the Ecolitans of Accord, officially recognize what has long been unofficially known.
“Welcome home, Prime Ecolitan Whaler.”
Jimjoy did the only thing he could. He bowed his head momentarily to accept the tribute, then raised his face to Thelina and the crowd, letting the tears fall where they would as Thelina stepped forward and placed the single gold pin on his chest, a golden triangle within a green circle.
“Sam’s?” he whispered.
She nodded.
His hands held her elbow to keep her from stepping back. “I’m no hero, and I came back, and I love you.”
He could see the tears in her eyes, and instead of releasing Thelina, he pulled her to him, gently, not wanting to let go, feeling every curve of her against him, including the new one, the one that would be named Geoff or Luren.
A sigh seemed to come from the crowd.
“All right,” whispered Meryl. “A little is understandable, but…”
Jimjoy tightened his grip on Thelina, then let go, linking her arm in his and turning to face the Ecolitans, his chosen people.
He raised his arm again and smiled, and began to walk with Thelina toward the future.
Epilogue
“SUMMARY:
“Detailed psyprofile comparison between Wright, Jimjoy Earle, III, and Whaler, James Joyson, II:
“Initial physical parameter comparisons, based on updated analysis of Ecolitan Institute capabilities [see H-G, sec. 32], indicate a physiological congruency range of 73%-94%.
“Psychological analyses, including statistical correlation of surface carriage indices, Mahaal-Pregud overlays, and Aaylward Socionormic Scores, indicate a congruency range below 45%, equivalent to environmental/genetic similarities or cultural congruency of point five on the Frin Scale.
“In numerous recorded observations, Whaler’s actions—accepting the sacrifice of two other needleboats, entering a permanent marital contract, and displaying visible emotion—signifying a significantly less sociopathic and a more emotional personality than that of Major Wright…
“Conclusion:
“Despite conflicting evidence {see Appendices I-IV}, direct and indirect psycholog
ical evidence, DNA-matched physical remains, and an absolute match of implanted Imperial identification tags confirm the death of the following Imperial officer:
“Jimjoy Earle Wright III
Major, I.S.S./S.O./B-941 366.”
—Termination Records
Vol. XL (3646-3648 I.E.)
Tor Books by L. E. Modesitt, Jr.
The Spellsong Cycle
The Soprano Sorceress
The Spellsong War
Darksong Rising
The Shadow Sorceress
The Saga of Recluce
The Magic of Recluce
The Towers of the Sunset
The Magic Engineer
The Order War
The Death of Chaos
Fall of Angels
The Chaos Balance
The White Order
Colors of Chaos
Magi’i of Cyador
Scion of Cyador
The Ecolitan Matter
The Ecologic Envoy
The Ecolitan Operation
The Ecologic Secession
The Ecolitan Enigma
The Forever Hero contains
Dawn for a Distant Earth
The Silent Warrior
In Endless Twilight
Timegods’ World contains
The Timegod
Timediver’s Dawn
Of Tangible Ghosts
Ghost of the White Nights
The Ghost of the Revelator
The Green Progression
Hammer of Darkness
Gravity Dreams
The Parafaith War
Adiamante
The Octagonal Raven
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in these novels are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.
EMPIRE & ECOLITAN
Copyright © 2001 by L. E. Modesitt, Jr.
The Ecolitan Operation, copyright © 1989 by L. E. Modesitt, Jr.
The Ecologic Secession, copyright © 1990 by L. E. Modesitt, Jr.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
ISBN: 978-1-4299-8697-7
Empire & Ecolitan Page 66
