Glory Season by David Brin Read Free Book Online

for long. This way we’ll get recommendations from two shipmasters, instead of just one.”
    “But—”
    “I won’t like it either, but look at it this way. We double our experience for the same price. Each of uslearns things the other doesn’t. Besides, we’ll have to go apart at other times. This will be good practice.”
    The startled expression in her sister’s eyes told Maia a lot about their relationship. There was a soft pleasure in surprising Leie, something that happened all too seldom.
She never expected me to be the one accepting a separation so easily.
    Indeed, Maia found she looked forward to the prospect of time by herself, away from her twin’s driving personality.
This should be healthy for both of us.
    Hiding her brief discomfiture behind an upraised beer stein, Leie finally nodded and said, “I don’t guess it matters—”
    At that instant, a flash whitened their faces, casting shadows from the direction of town. A sparking, spiraling rocket trailed upward from the harbor fortress, arcing into the sky and then exploding, lighting the docks and clanholds with stark, crawling patterns of white and dark. Silhouettes revolved around pedestrians stunned motionless by the abrupt glare, while a low growling sound rapidly climbed in pitch and intensity to become an ululation, filling the night.
    Maia, her sister, and the two captains stood up. It was the seldom-heard wail of Port Sanger’s siren … calling out the militia … alerting its citizens to stand to the defense.
     
    W hat should be our desiderata, in designing a new human race? What existence do we wish for our descendants on this world?
    Long, happy lives?
    Fair enough. Yet, despite our technical wonders, that simple boon may prove hard to deliver. Long ago, Darwin and Malthus pointed out life’s basic paradox—that all species carry inbuilt drives to try to overbreed. To fill even Eden with so many offspring that it ceases to be paradise, anymore.
    Nature, in her wisdom, controlled this opportunistic streak with checks and balances. Predators, parasites, and random luck routinely culled the excess. To the survivors, each new generation, went the prize—a chance to play another round.
    Then humans came. Born critics, we wiped out thecarnivores who preyed on us, and battled disease. With rising moral fervor, societies pledged to suppress cut-throat competition, guaranteeing to all a “right to live and prosper.”
    In retrospect, we know awful mistakes were made with the best intentions on poor Mother Terra. Without natural checks, our ancestors’ population boom overwhelmed her. But is the only alternative to bring back rule by tooth and claw? Could we, even if we tried?
    Intelligence is loose in the galaxy. Power is in our hands, for better or worse. We can modify Nature’s rules, if we dare, but we cannot ignore her lessons.
    —
from
The Apologia,
by Lysos

2
    A n acrid scent of smoke. A fuming, cinder mist rising from smoldering planks. Distress flags flapping from the singed mizzen of a crippled ship, staggering toward asylum. The impressions were more vivid for occurring at night, with the larger moon, Durga, laying wan glimmers across the scummy waters of Port Sanger’s bayside harbor.
    Under glaring searchlights from the high-walled fortress, a dry-goods freighter, Prosper, wallowed arduously toward safe haven, assisted by its attacker. Half the town was there to watch, including militia from all of the great clanholds, their daughters of fighting age decked in leather armor and carrying polished trepp bills. Matronly officers wore cuirasses of shiny metal, shouting to squads of identical offspring and nieces. The Lamatia contingent arrived, quick-marching downhill in helmets crowned with gaeo bird feathers. Maia recognized most of the full-clone winterlings, her half sisters, despite their being alike in nearly every way. The Lamai companies briskly spread along the roof of the family warehouse before dispatching a