Green Comet

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

Sage packs up and leaves Skylight’s home. She’s got new lodgings.

Please let me know in the comments whether you’re enjoying this. And subscribe so you don’t miss anything.

rjb

Chapter Nineteen – Moving

“I don’t know how much more of that I could have stood.” Digger was walking fast, apparently unaware that Sage was having to work to keep up.

“Oh, come on,” said Sage. “How could you not be interested in that?” She trotted a few steps. “Did you know before today that there are only a few of these in the whole world?” She raised her left arm with the glider lashed to it. She wasn’t taking any more chances with it. Not only was it valuable in itself, now it was the key to her future. It meant a job, money and a place to stay, and she knew enough about this city to know what those things meant. “Hey,” she said, trotting again, “how much did you even know about these things before yesterday?”

“Not much,” he said, “and life seemed to go on anyway.” His head was moving as he scanned the street for trouble. Maybe he’d been a little bored and now he felt like he had to hurry, but that didn’t make him forget where he was.

“Yes, but …” She hurried alongside him. He was on her left, to help her protect the glider, and she was walking close to the building fronts, her right hand on the hilt of her knife. All four of her eyes were intensely taking in everything. She was getting tired of having to keep up with his long-legged gait, though. “Digger!” she said. “Could you slow down a little, please?”

He looked at her, surprised, and slowed his pace. “Sorry,” he said. “I guess all that waiting around made me impatient.”

“You didn’t have to just wait around,” she said. “You could have joined in. It was fascinating.”

“Fascinating for you, maybe. You and your professor. And your gliders.”

Years later when she was thinking about it, she would wonder if Digger might have been jealous. Then and there, though, it didn’t occur to her. It was her present and her near future that filled her mind, and she had no reason to think he might be. “But they’re not just our gliders,” she said. “They’re part of a … what did he call it?”

“A global phenomenon.”

“Yes. A global phenomenon.” She savored the words, neither of which had been in her vocabulary before today. To her the world had been the plains, until yesterday when she added the city. Now it was a whole planet. A globe spinning through space. Her mind felt expanded and alive. “The gliders are part of a global phenomenon, so they’re part of a bigger mystery. And I’m part of it.” She grinned at him.

He had to grin back. As much as he might have been bored, and whatever else he might have felt as he watched them with their heads together, he couldn’t help sharing her pleasure at her good fortune. He was a digger and helping newcomers was what he did. He was pleased that this one had so quickly landed on her feet. Tomorrow he would be finding another one to help and this one would be just another of his contacts. One day he would be using Sage just as he was using Skylight now. He said, “Yes you are. You’re part of something big and important.”

They walked quietly, thinking their thoughts. Then Sage said, “That was awfully nice of the Professor to give you the money anyway, wasn’t it?”

“Yes it was,” he said, “although he didn’t stand much of a chance, did he?”

“What do you mean? All I did was give him a chance to do the right thing, and he did.”

He laughed. “Of course he did. Anyway, thanks. This money will really help. I know two or three people who could use some help right now.”

“And how about you?” she said. “Isn’t there anything you need?”

“Like what? I don’t need anything.”

“Well, that blanket,” she said, eying a few threadbare spots.

“What’s wrong with this blanket? This is a good old blanket. I don’t need a new blanket.”

“Sure,” she said, laughing.

The buildings she was passing as they walked were different from the ones she’d seen yesterday evening when she first arrived. These ones were taller for one thing. Nearly twice as tall. And along the street here, a lot of them had windows. These were bigger than any windows she had ever seen anywhere else, and they were fully glassed in. Behind the glass, displayed to be seen by people passing by, were things for sale. Further inside she could see people moving amongst shelves and racks holding more things. Digger had told her that people came to these places to buy things with money. With all the things for sale in there, Sage imagined there must be a really big workshop out back, filled with many artisans making them. She’d forgotten what Digger said about mass production.

They were passing in front of one of the places that Digger called restaurants, and Sage was looking at the people eating when she realized that she was hearing something. Her ears were getting used to the sound of the city, and now they could pick out something that she had thought was just a background noise. Something like the susurration that was almost always there as the wind moved the grass. It was a kind of rushing sound, like an unseen river.

When she mentioned it to Digger he said, “Traffic.” Then he said, “Come on. I’ll show you.”

They took a side street and walked a few of Digger’s blocks, the sound getting louder as they went. Sage began to see big wagons crossing back and forth up the way, but there was no one pulling them. They were going faster than people could have pulled them anyway. She slowed down as they approached the intersection, and Digger had to encourage her.

“It’s okay, Sage,” he said. “It’s just cars and trucks.”

“But how are they … What’s making them go?”

“They have engines,” he said. He frowned, lips pursed, then said, “We have ways of burning fuel and turning it into motion.”

She nodded. She could work that out later. For now she said, “But how do they know where to go if no one’s pulling them?”

“They have a driver,” he said. “See the person standing near the front? They have controls to guide the vehicle.”

She did see, and now she could see that the drivers were watching closely as they went, and did have their hands on what must be the controls. Some of them were standing in the open, and some were enclosed within cabins. Some of the vehicles were smaller and seemed to be carrying only people, while others were big enough to carry a large amount of goods.

When Sage asked why people would ride in one of those things instead of walking, he laughed and said, “Riding is quicker if it’s any distance, and of course some people are too important to walk. They like to prove it by riding.”

Sage understood that. She was old enough to know about vanity. So she just asked, “If it’s quicker, then why aren’t these vehicles on all the streets?”

“It’s more efficient this way,” he said. “These main routes can get you quickly from one part of the city to another, then it’s never very far on the secondary routes to your destination. People can walk a few blocks and goods can be transferred into wagons pulled by people.” He looked down at her feet. “That’s one of those heavy jobs where you would wear iron shoes.”

She curled her nostrils. “It’s noisy,” she said, “and it smells bad.”

“That’s true,” he said, and they turned to get back to where they were going.

Skylight surprised Sage with her emotional reaction to her departure.

“I thought you’d be glad to see me gone,” she said, handing her the mended sack.

Skylight huffed, her arms crossed. “I thought it was going to be two or three days,” she said, “not just the one night. I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

Star wasn’t trying to hide how he felt. He stood beside his mother looking as if he was going to burst into tears, and he did when she hugged him good-bye. Skylight didn’t cry when Sage hugged her, but her voice was husky when she said, “You take care of yourself, Sage. And watch yourself with that professor. You can never trust anyone who’s too smart.”

Sage promised to be careful, and to keep in touch, then she set out for the university, Digger at her side. She turned a few heads on the street, with her panniers on. She had her glider lashed to the right one, and Digger walked on that side to protect it. At his insistence, she wasn’t carrying her spear in her hand, so it was sticking up from its sheath on her left pannier. What attracted the most attention was her necklace, hanging around her neck and rattling as she walked.

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

Sage learns more about her glider. This is a longer chapter.

Please let me know in the comments whether you’re enjoying this. And subscribe so you don’t miss anything.

rjb

Chapter Eighteen – The Professor

Sage was looking down at the sack in her hands, and at her feet below it, when Digger stepped in front of her, giving her a slight bump. Before she could look up, she felt a sharp tug on the sack, almost tearing it from her hands. She instinctively clutched it to her and managed to hold on to it, though it got torn in the process. When she did look up, she saw someone stagger and run away, Digger trotting a few steps after him. The people around them stopped for a moment to look, then went on with their business.

Digger trotted back to her, glancing at the sack. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Finding her voice, Sage said, “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.” She looked at him, then at the sack, examining the tear. It was small, and the sack would still hold the glider. She would have to sew it before she gave it back to Skylight, though. She looked at Digger again. “Was he trying to steal it?”

“Yes,” he said. “It’s lucky I spotted him in time.”

“I didn’t even see him,” she said.

“He was good. He didn’t start running until the last second. I barely had time to try to block him.”

“I didn’t see him,” she said again. She couldn’t believe it. Only yesterday she’d been alert to everything that went on around her, because her life depended on it. Even after she entered the city she had been wary enough to hold off Rat and Snake. But now, after a nice dinner and a safe sleep, she had relaxed so much that she didn’t even notice someone trying to steal her glider. She shook her head and told herself that she wasn’t in her village now. This place was looking as if it was no safer than the terrain she’d covered in the last month. Maybe there weren’t any day runners trying to kill you, but some of the people here were just as dangerous. She said again, “I didn’t even see him.”

“You were distracted,” he said. “You weren’t expecting it.”

That didn’t make her feel any better. She shouldn’t have been distracted. And she knew enough to know that she should expect anything. Until she got this place figured out as well as she knew the prairie, she was going to have to expect anything, any time. That’s what kept her alive out there and that’s what she needed to do to prevent being a victim here. She looked at him, her brow firm and her eyes sharp. She said, “It won’t happen again,” and started walking, her sharp eyes looking at everything.

Seeing her face, Digger could believe it. He hoped that no one else tried anything, because they might end up with a knife in them, instead of a harmless bump. That wouldn’t upset him much, but he didn’t feel like wasting time on the ensuing trouble. When people stabbed each other, the police tended to get nosy, and Digger didn’t need that. He caught up and walked alongside her, alert for anything. If anyone came at them, he wanted to intercept them before they got within her range.

Luckily for everyone involved, no one tried anything, and in less than an hour they got where they were going. They had reached the center of the city, where the tallest buildings were, but their destination was a cluster of lower structures enclosed by a wall. The gate was attended by what appeared to be yet another acquaintance of Digger’s, and a few minutes of friendly chatting got them in.

Once inside, Digger set out as if he knew where he was going, but Sage stopped to look. When he came back to her, she said, “What is this place?”

They were in a rectangular area enclosed by buildings five to fifteen meters high. The enclosed area looked to be a couple of hectares, mostly covered by grass that looked as green as new shoots. Sage immediately stepped off the stony path and sank her feet into the lush growth, releasing a small groan of pleasure.

“Uh,” said Digger, looking around, “they don’t like that.”

“What?”

“Walking on the grass. That’s only for the big shots.”

Sage looked at the expanse of green and said, “What’s the point of it, then?” She stepped back onto the path.

“I’m not sure,” he said, “but only professors and up are allowed. The rest of us have to use the path.”

“Makes them feel important, I guess,” she said, shrugging. Then she said, “Professors?”

“Oh, right, of course. Professors are teachers. This is a university.” Seeing her blank look, he said, “A university is a place where people go to learn, and the professors teach them.”

Understanding lit her face. “I get it,” she said. “Everyone comes here to learn.” She looked around, impressed. “Is that why you brought me here? To learn? You said I had a lot to learn.”

He saw his mistake. “No. Not everyone can come here. There’s not enough room for that many people.”

She nodded. “Okay. I get it. So they only pick the smartest people. Teach the people who can get the most out of it.” She kept nodding. “Where do I go to find out if I’m smart enough?”

He bit down on his surprised laughter. “It’s not for the smartest people, Sage. It’s for the people with the most money.”

“Money?” She pictured the coins in his hand, and tried to imagine how they related to learning. Finally she shrugged and said, “I guess I need to get some money, then.”

He didn’t bother trying to tell her how futile that would be. He just said, “Right. Let’s go see Professor Tailor.”

They walked all the way around the grass to a door that was almost directly opposite where they were. While he knocked on the door, she looked across the forbidden shortcut and shook her head. The door opened and she saw a young man carrying a small satchel of books. He glanced at them with undisguised contempt, and called back over his shoulder, “Are you expecting any workers, Professor?”

A voice from within said, “I’m expecting them. Let them in.”

The young man was surprised, but he said, “Very well, Professor. I’ll see you next week.” Then he brushed by them, leaving the door open.

They stood, uncertain, then the voice said, “Well, don’t stand there letting the flies in. Come in and shut the door.”

Inside was a large foyer, its generous windows letting in plenty of light. Immediately to the right was a staircase leading to a second floor. Straight ahead across the foyer was a wall with a single door. To their left was an open door with a man standing in it. “Come along,” he said, backing into the room beyond.

They crossed the foyer, Sage looking down at the shining wooden floor. Now she saw why they might not like iron shoes indoors, and placed her rubber ones carefully so as not to leave any marks.

In the room, the Professor was standing beside a desk that was littered with papers. They stopped in front of the desk and Digger said, “Professor Tailor, this is Sage, the young woman I told you about.”

“Ah, yes,” said the Professor. “The one with the artifact.” He gestured her forward. “Come along,” he said, “let’s see it.”

With a glance at Digger, Sage stepped forward and handed him the sack. He slipped out the glider, dropping the sack on the floor. He gazed at the thing in his hands and, without looking up, said, “The money is on the desk. Thank you. You may go.” His eyes were shining.

Digger looked at her and shrugged, then stepped to the desk and picked up the money. It must have been right because he made no objection, only turning to go. He was halfway to the door before he realized that she wasn’t moving. “Sage?” he said. “Are you coming?”

She was looking at the Professor. She ignored Digger and kept staring until the Professor looked up.

He said, “Are you still here? You must leave now. I have work to do.” He moved behind his desk.

Sage moved up to stand where he’d been, beside his desk. “I’m not ready to leave yet,” she said. “We haven’t finished our business.”

“Yes we have,” he said, unconsciously holding the glider close. “You’ve taken the money.”

“No we haven’t. Digger, put the money back.”

“Sage?” he said, but she crossed her arms and didn’t take her eyes off the Professor and her glider, so he stepped up and put the money back.

“That means nothing,” said the Professor. “We had a deal, and he took the money.”

“That’s fine,” said Sage, “but the glider wasn’t his to sell.”

He looked at her now. If he had thought he was dealing with a naive girl, he could see that this was a competent young woman standing in front of him. Still clutching the glider, he said, “What do you want? How much?”

She paused uncertainly. She thought about what to say. What did she want? She didn’t know, but she knew what she didn’t want. After what it had put her through, she didn’t want to part ways with her glider. Not yet, anyway. Finally she said, “I’m not sure. I haven’t been here long enough to know what your money is worth. I just know that I don’t want to sell it. Not here. Not now.”

“But my studies,” he said. “My research. My work.”

“I’m not saying I won’t sell it,” she said, reaching her hands out for it. “It must be worth something. People have tried to steal it twice already.”

His face lit up. “Leave it here with me. It will be safe here.”

“Maybe it will,” she said, “but I don’t know you well enough to say for sure.” Her hands were still outstretched. “Digger has told me that city people only care what’s in it for them.”

Digger and the Professor both protested at the same time. Digger said, “I didn’t say everybody.” And the Professor said, “I care about my research. Very important research.”

Sage let her hands drop and said, “Maybe we can work out some kind of arrangement.” She looked at his hopeful, almost eager face. “Maybe I can bring it around for you to work on.”

His face fell, but not all the way. This might be better than losing it all together. He said, “What would you expect in return?”

She thought about it. She looked around the office. “Is this where you do your research?”

“No,” he said. “That’s done in the laboratory.”

“Laboratory?”

“Yes.” He looked back and forth between them. “Would you like to see it?”

“Yes,” said Sage.

“Follow me, then.” he said, trying to step out around his desk.

Sage held out her hands again. “I’ll take care of that,” she said.

Slowly and very reluctantly he passed it to her. Then he said, “This way,” and led them out of the room. In the foyer he turned left and headed for the door in the back wall. The blanket he was wearing was black and shiny, and it hung down almost to the floor. Even in the few steps across the foyer it swept backwards. He opened the door and stepped in ahead of them, holding it for them to enter.

Sage stepped in and moved sideways, and Digger moved up beside her. Together they stared at the unfamiliar sight. They saw workbenches, at least one sink, bottles and flasks, and any number of things that they couldn’t identify in the dim illumination. Professor Tailor flicked a switch on the wall beside the door and the bright overhead lights came on. Now Sage could see something she could identify, and she walked toward it.

“Be careful!” said the Professor, rushing to catch up. “Don’t touch anything.”

They reached a bench at the back of the room, and lying on it was another glider just like hers. No, not just like hers. The engraving on the back was different. Hers had a large circle with two smaller ones embedded in it. This one had a circle in the middle with a larger circle scribed around it. On the large circle there was a smaller one, as if it were orbiting the one in the middle. She was thinking about that when she felt her glider vibrate. This was unlike the vibrations she felt when she talked, and which the Professor must have felt, too. She wondered if his would vibrate when she talked.

She put her hand on it, heedless of his protests, and said, “You already have a glider.” She was right. It vibrated. But it also had another fainter vibration, just like the one she was holding. She took her hand off the Professor’s glider and stepped back, to his great relief. Hers stopped vibrating. With subtle movements she determined that the limit was about two meters. When they were within two meters of each other, they vibrated.

“Yes,” he said. “I’ve had it for about ten years.” He reached out and adjusted it minutely, squaring it with the workbench.

“What is it?” asked Sage. She hefted hers. “What are they?”

He spread his hands. “I don’t know,” he said. “Oh, I’ve learned a few things about it, such as weight, specific gravity, and so on. And I’ve shared data with other scientists around the world …”

“There are more of these?”

“Yes. A handful all told.” He looked at hers. “With that one, I would be the only person with more than one.”

“That would be worth a lot to you, I guess.”

He saw what he’d done, giving her power over him, and he clearly considered denying it before shrugging and saying, “Yes. But the important thing is the research, and the possibility of more data.”

Sage looked at him for a long time. She didn’t like him very much so far. He was a little too interested in what he wanted and a little too dismissive of everything else. But she liked that he didn’t try to hide how much it meant to him, just for a bit of bargaining advantage. She made up her mind. “Okay,” she said. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll keep my glider, but I’ll bring it to you to study.”

He was both disappointed and relieved. “And in return?”

“In return I will work with you and you will teach me.”

He was shocked. All he could manage was, “What?” He didn’t see Digger stifling a surprised laugh.

“Digger tells me that professors teach people, but only if they have enough money,” said Sage, holding up a hand to stem their protests. “I don’t have enough money, but I want to learn, so this is how I’ll do it.”

The Professor closed his mouth and swallowed, then he nodded slowly. “All right,” he said. “I guess we can do that.”

“And you’ll need to pay me,” said Sage. “I’m going to need money, I think.” Digger walked over to the other side of the laboratory, apparently very interested in something there. If you looked closely, you could see his shoulders shaking.

The Professor didn’t say anything this time. Just nodded.

“And,” said Sage, “I’m going to need a place to stay. Somewhere close to here so I don’t have to carry the glider too far. The next person who tries to steal it isn’t going to be so lucky, and I really don’t want to hurt anyone.”

The Professor looked over at Digger, who seemed to be having a coughing fit, then back at Sage, who was smiling nicely. He felt the beginnings of his own smile and was surprised to realize that this was a young woman he could learn to like. “I do have an allowance for paying assistants,” he said. “And there’s a room upstairs here that you can use, at least for now.”

“That sounds perfect,” she said.

“Very good,” said the Professor. “Now, as to your education, would you like to start now?”

“Perfect,” said Sage, handing him her glider.

Continuing the serial release of The Plainsrunner under a Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike license – (CC-BY-SA).

Sage gets shoes and sets off to sell her glider.

Please let me know in the comments whether you’re enjoying this. And subscribe so you don’t miss anything.

rjb

Chapter Seventeen – New Shoes

Exhausted though she was, Sage had trouble falling asleep. She used the flashlight to arrange some blankets on the floor – there was no straw – then switched it off immediately. Fisher had told her not to leave it on, because that would waste the batteries. She guessed that the batteries must be what made the light, in place of fire. She pushed the button a few times, marveling at how that could give her light so easily, then used it only enough to get settled. After that she spent what felt like hours lying in the dark, not falling asleep.

The darkness was complete, with not even the faintest line to show where the door was. She had to consciously blink her eyes to tell if they were open or closed. Especially the side eyes. It was in this strangeness, in a black room in a stranger’s house in the still-mysterious city, that Sage spent her wakefulness thinking about her predicament. Tomorrow Digger, a man she hardly knew, was going to take her out in this strange place and try to “find her something.” Also, they were going to get her some shoes. She had Skylight’s assurance that it was an easy and painless procedure, and also for the best. She said it would keep her feet from getting sore. Flexing them and feeling the residual ache, Sage decided that would be a good thing.

One thing in particular occupied her mind. Her glider had attracted so much attention that her curiosity was inflamed. What made it so interesting? What made it valuable? Even valuable enough to kill her for. And another thing above all. She’d had no idea of its existence until it fell out of the sky, but everyone here seemed to know all about it.

She was mulling all these things in endless circularity when she finally dropped off. She felt as if she hadn’t slept at all when she was awakened by knocking on the door.

“Just a minute,” she said, getting up and feeling her way to the door. She started to open it, then went back and groped around for a blanket. She threw it on and, suitably covered for city eyes, opened the door. Squinting in the bright morning light, she was able to make out Digger standing there.

He said, “You shouldn’t open your door until you know who’s there. If I wanted to rob you, it would be all over now.”

She cleared her throat and spat in the street, then she said, “But you don’t want to rob me, do you?”

“No, of course not.” He glanced at her spit, then told her, “It’s okay to spit here, but barely. Some people might not like it, but enough people do it to make it okay.” He waved an arm toward the center of the city. “Some of the streets we’ll be on today are a little more upscale, and it won’t be okay there.”

She looked at him for a few seconds, then said, “Wear your blanket. Don’t spit. Is there anything else I should know before showing my face in your precious city?”

“Whoa,” he said. “Are you always this grumpy in the morning? And yes, there are plenty more things you need to learn.”

“Grumpy?” she said, anger flaring. She cut it off. She knew she owed him gratitude, not anger, for what he’d done. “Sorry,” she said. “Couldn’t sleep.”

“Don’t worry about it. After what you’ve been through, you’re entitled to a little leeway.” He looked at her sternly. “But just a little. Some of the places we’re going today, they’re not going to give you any. All they care about is what’s in it for them.”

She nodded. She’d grown accustomed to a world that gives you no leeway. She’d survived that, and she could surely survive a few city people. She headed for Skylight’s kitchen. “Come on,” she said. “I’ll get cleaned up and we can head out.”

“Sage,” he said. When she looked, he tipped his head at the open door.

“Oh, my ancestors,” she said, and went to get the key.

They were back on the same street they met on yesterday. The difference this morning was that Sage wasn’t carrying her panniers, or her spear. She was going to take her spear, but Digger told her people don’t do that in the city. She shrugged and left it, and now here she was all fresh and fed and feeling better, and they were headed in toward the center of town where the taller buildings were. But before they even reached the next cross street, or before they’d gone one block, as Digger put it, they stopped in at the farrier’s recommended by Skylight.

Feeling extremely awkward, especially when he was working on her hind feet, his breath on her haunches, Sage listened while he talked her through it.

“We caught it in time,” he was saying. “There’s no serious damage. No cracking or splitting.” He patted her haunch, causing her to stiffen. “We’ll have you fixed up and out of here in no time.” He rubbed his hands together. “So,” he said, “iron or rubber?”
She looked at Digger, and he said, “Rubber, Hammer.” Then to Sage, “Iron lasts longer, but it’s for heavy duty use, and I don’t think you’re going to be doing that kind of work. Rubber wears out quicker, but it gives you better traction. Also, it’s better for indoors. Some people don’t like iron shoes in their houses, marking up their floors.”

Hammer started with her front feet – “So you can see what I’m doing.” – and she stood there, clutching the sack containing her glider while he pounded nails into her feet. After the first flinch, she was all right. It didn’t hurt. It actually felt kind of nice. The way he gently but firmly cradled her feet as he worked on them made her feel … Well, she admitted to herself, the attention … She had never had someone pay this kind of attention to her feet before. When it was over and he was done filing and buffing her hooves, she found that she was disappointed.

As they were leaving and she was thanking Hammer, she surprised herself with how shyly she spoke to him. Then he winked at her and said, “It was a pleasure, dearie. Come back any time.”

She stumbled out onto the street, feeling the strange new detachment in her feet. She picked them up and down, turning in a circle while she stared at her shiny new hooves. She stomped experimentally, enjoying the sense of protection her new shoes gave her. Even the sound was different, the clattering a lot more muted.

Digger smiled indulgently and waited.

“He didn’t even ask me what I had to trade,” said Sage as they walked. She continually looked down at her feet as they lifted and fell.

“Don’t worry. Hammer and I have an arrangement.”

“Another one of the people you helped before?”

He nodded. “That’s right. Otherwise we’d have had to pay him.”

“What would he have taken in trade?” Sage couldn’t think of anything she had that would be appropriate.

“We’d have given him money,” said Digger. “There’s not much barter any more.”

“Money?”

“Yes,” he said, pulling some coins out of a pocket in his grey blanket. “When we buy and sell things, we use these. They’re kind of like tokens, with different values.”

“So, you’d have given him those in return for putting these shoes on me? That doesn’t seem very even.”

“It wouldn’t be, if it was a straight trade. But he can take the money then and buy other stuff.”

They walked quietly while she thought, then she said, “Ah! The money. Those tokens. They’re always worth the same. And everyone agrees on what they’re worth.”

“That’s right.” He was impressed by how quickly she got it.

“And a lot easier to carry around, too,” she said. “Where can I get some of this money?”

He laughed. “There’s work,” he said. “You work for someone and they pay you. Or you could do like Rat and Snake and steal people’s stuff to sell for money. Or you could sell something valuable of your own, which is what we’re going to try to do today.”
“Something valuable of mine?” She looked down at the sack holding her glider and stopped dead.

He stopped beside her and said, “You need money to get started, and that’s a valuable item. I think we can get you a good price for it.”

“But it’s …” she started. “It’s my glider.” She looked at him, her eyes pleading.

He was firm. “It’s the only thing you’ve got that’s worth anything.” He paused. “Well, maybe except for that necklace.” He ignored the shocked look on her face. “And you might get something for that spear.” Her eyes got even wider. “But the point is you have to sell something, and I might have a buyer for it.” When she didn’t answer, he said, “What else are you going to do with it? Carry it around everywhere?”

She stood for a long time, then her face set hard. “Right,” she said, hefting the sack, “let’s go sell my glider.”