"What's wrong?" he asked.

She stopped ma.s.saging his head. "Nothing."

"Something about my children," he said. "Their mother?"

"Men can marry only one woman here. Perhaps in your Imperial court it is different."

He laughed. "Concubines and court intrigue? G.o.ds, Kamoj, that isn't me. I may have more t.i.tles than I know what to do with, but I'm still a farm boy from nowhere. All I ever wanted was my wife, my family, and my land."

She spoke with care. "Then you are widowed?"

"I married my childhood sweetheart when we were kids." In a voice soft with sorrow, he added, "Ten years ago she took a fall in the Backbone Mountains.

She died instantly."

"Hai," she murmured. "I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago." His voice gentled. "We had many good years, twelve beautiful children, over forty grandchildren so far, and G.o.ds know how many great-grandchildren." He paused, squinting at her. "I get mixed up which of the new ones are grandchildren and which are great-grand. There's even a few great-greats in there."

She stared at him. "But you are so young."

"People marry young where I come from. I was fourteen." He laughed. "When I told Dazza that, she nearly went through the wall. Legal age in the overall Imperialate culture is twenty-five, and the average number of children for a conventional couple is two. By the time I was 'legal,' I had six children."

It didn't sound odd to Kamoj. In her experience, people married young and had as many children as possible, with the hope that at least some would survive until adulthood, and perhaps, if the family was lucky, even prosper.

But the numbers and his age still didn't fit. She struggled to work it out.

Although she was better at mathematics than most people, she usually had wires with beads to do problems as difficult as this one. No matter how she looked at it, she kept coming up with the same impossible results.

Finally she said, "Even if your children married as young as you did, I don't see how you could have so many descendants, especially great-grandchildren and great-greats."

"Why? I'm sixty-three."

Her mouth fell open. "What? No. That can't be."

"It's true." He grinned. "But if you want to tell me how young I look, I won't object."

She smiled. "You can angle for compliments all you wish, my handsome husband. But I still don't understand. How can you look so young?"

"Good genes and exercise, I suppose. Also, the nanomeds in my body do some repairs, enough to help delay aging." He hesitated. "Did you really mean what you said this afternoon, about wanting me to stay with you?"

"Yes."

"Even though you could have your betrothed back if we arranged for me to 'die'?"

"Jax Ironbridge is a" The word slug tempted her, but she held it back. No more appropriate word came, though. She kept imagining a slug making its way through the mud.

Vyrl laughed. "You can compare my compet.i.tion to all the slimy creatures you want."

"I would never speak ill of Ironbridge's good name."

"You're tact is laudable." He closed his eyes. "I like your worm images better, though."

She stroked his forehead. "Lionstar Province has no worms."

A guilty look pa.s.sed over his face. "I don't really have a province on this planet."

"Of course you do."

"I do?"

"Argali and our villages." She thought of Azander. "Your stagmen come from outlying hamlets, yes?"

"That's right."

"Most of those hamlets were originally part of the North Sky Islands. But they've become unattached." It appalled Kamoj, actually. Rather than trying to support villages so distant and so impoverished, past governors of the Islands had ignored them, until finally, after many generations, the villages lost all a.s.sociation with their former provinceand with that, their last hope of survival. "If their stagmen are your sworn liegemen, then you are also now the authority in their villages."

He opened his eyes. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"A union such as ours is a merger. A business arrangement. In marrying me, you agreed to help support my people."

"In other words, responsibilities come with power."

She took a breath. "Yes."

"Such as?"

"Food. Work. Tools. Shelter." Softly she said, "Survival."

Vyrl considered her. Then he reached out and pressed a turquoise stone on the nightstand.

A voice floated into the air. "Colonel Pacal here."

"Dazza, when is Morlin coming back up?" Vyrl asked.

"I'm not sure. The techs are replacing the fiberoptics. Is there a problem?"

"No. I just need some information."

"Maybe I can help."

He scowled. "Yes, but Morlin never argues with me."

Dryly Dazza said, "What are you about to do that you think will start an argument?"

"Do you remember our decision to minimize interactions with the native culture here?"

"Yes."

"Well, we may have a problem."

"What problem?"

"It seems that by marrying Kamoj, I've set myself up as a sort of sovereign in Argali."

Dazza made an exasperated noise. "That's hardly what I call 'minimizing interactions.'"

"I want to send some techs to the villages."

"Why? The villages have no tech for techs to work on."

"That's the point. These people have a killing winter coming. We can heat their houses."

After a pause, Dazza said, "I'll a.s.sign a group to it."

"Discreetly, though. I don't want to scare anyone. Dress them in native clothes and send some of my stagmen with them."

"All right."

"Some of the houses are old enough to have web systems"

"Vyrl." Her voice had a warning note. "Don't push it."

"Can you go down to Argali too?" he asked.

"Me? Why?"

"See if they need medical help."

Her voice turned dry again. "In case you've forgotten, I'm an ISC colonel. I have responsibilities."

"Oh. Yes. Of course."

The silence stretched out. Finally Dazza said, "I have some residents up on the Ascendant who are just out of medical school. They could benefit from the experience."

Vyrl smiled. "Good."

"We should send agriculturists too," she said.

"We already have one." His voice grew animated. "Dazza, listen. I've been working on quad-grains. Give me a few years and I could engineer crops and livestock that would increase production here tenfold."

"We don't have a few years."

"Just think about it."

She exhaled. "All right."

"Good." Vyrl grinned. Then he yawned and turned his head until his lips touched Kamoj's thigh.

Tears gathered in Kamoj's eyes. Softly she said, "Thank you, beautiful lion."

"Vyrl?" Dazza asked.

"I'm sleeping," he mumbled.

"Ah," the colonel said. "Good-night, Governor Argali."

Kamoj blinked at the phrase. "Good-night?" When no answer came, she said, "Dazza?" The nightstand remained quiet.

So she stroked Vyrl's hair and watched stars move across the patch of sky visible through the window on the other side of the room. Could he truly warm their houses in winter? Heal their ills? Help them grow ten times as much food? It was remarkable how, when life seemed to reach its worst, things could turn about this way. Surely all would be well now.

Surely Vyrl wouldn't drink anymore.

Above The Sky Integration "Water sprite, wake up."

Kamoj moved, then groaned. It felt like pins and thornbats p.r.i.c.kled her legs, where she had folded them under her body. She didn't remember sliding out from under Vyrl, but she was sitting next to him now, her hands tucked between her knees. Moonlight poured over the bed.

Vyrl lay watching her. "I need you to do something for me."

She smiled, imagining his hands on her body. "Anything."

"In the second drawer of my desk. There's a bottle I need."

Her good mood vanished. "You don't need that."

"I can't sleep."

"Dazza could give you"

"No!"

"But"

"I don't need Dazza's d.a.m.n sedatives."

"I can't get you the bottle."

His voice hardened. "Why not? You have two legs. You can walk the ten steps it would take to reach the desk."

"The rum hurts you."

"After two days you claim to know me well enough to dictate what is and isn't good for me?"

"Vyrl, no. That's not what I meant."

"Then get it for me." His voice gentled. "Just for tonight. To help me sleep."

"I can't. I-I'm sorry."