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the front steps of the Guild building and crossed to the waiting groundcar. The door whirred open as he approached. He was due back at the Principate about ten minutes ago. He took a moment to glance up at the Minor Twin casting its baleful ruddy eye over the city and pursed his lips. Ka Vail was right; things were not going to be easy. He hated the Return just as much as the old Guildmaster. And yet the Kallathik seemed to manage with minimal disruption to their lives, but from the sound of things, there was more going on between the Kallathik and Primary Production than was immediately apparent. That was definitely worth further investigation.

He slipped into the groundcar, gratefully. This would be one of the last journeys he would be able to make before they became too dangerous to operate. It really was about time the Guild of Technologists found a solution to their instability. With a shake of his head, he tapped in the destination.

He watched the passing buildings as the groundcar moved silently through the streets. He was as concerned as Ka Vail about Men Darnak's plans. Sandon Yl Aris had done well out of his loyalty to Leannis Men Darnak. He had lands, and wealth, but a new order could easily upset his hard-won position. A change of regime could herald changes to Aldaban and the Guilds, changes that would little benefit its people. Since the first colony ships had been forced to land, the families had run everything, just as they had in the years that the vast mother ship had traveled between the stars.

He pursed his lips and shifted his gaze to follow a sole Atavist riding through the streets on the back of a padder. The man's homespun robes fell about him, drab and dusty. Twin baskets were draped across the animal's back, vegetables poking out over their rims. The Atavist turned his face away as the groundcar skimmed past, almost as if by doing so, he could deny its existence. Sandon snorted. It was bad enough that the people of Aldaban had to forego many comforts of technology for part of the twin sun's cycle, much worse to do so intentionally. Sandon shuddered to think how they could live like that. Still, religion did strange things to people's minds.

A chime from the groundcar's instrument panel told him they were approaching the Principate, and he leaned forward in his seat, trying to count the number of vehicles already clustered in front of the building complex. The central Principate offices were long and low, constructed of thick stone built to withstand most of what the Minor Twin could throw at them. The dark brown stone spread uniformly throughout Yarik, the capital, as it did through every city on Aldaban. The austere traditions of the First Families had certainly left their legacy.

The groundcar slid to a stop in one of the scattered empty parking spaces and the door rose at a touch of his finger. He stepped out and scanned the vehicles parked around him as the door slid shut beside him. The news of Men Darnak's announcement had brought them in like scavenger lizards. Well, there was nothing else for it. Time to see what Men Darnak really had planned. With set jaw, Sandon Yl Aris strode up the front steps and inside to see what fate was about to deliver.

Three

Sandon stepped quickly into the long ceremonial chamber used for state functions, cursing inside. Because of his lateness, he would be forced to maneuver carefully past the ranked officials already present. With his lips pressed into a tight line, he tried to spy the best way through. A quick scan of the faces revealed many he knew. Representatives of several major Guild families clustered together across the broad space, but, in this instance, only those that had close political ties within the Principate. Men Darnak, it appeared, had been very careful about distributing the knowledge of his announcement. As usual, the Principal wanted to control the dynamic of the news, channeling it first through those to whom he gave the most trust. Typical Men Darnak.

Torches sat bracketed on the pillars lining the side walls, already burning, their light dimmed by the three vast chandeliers hanging from the ceiling's middle. Had it been two months earlier and the torches would have remained unlit, but now, with the Minor Twin threatening, it was better to be sure. A harsh burst from the twinned suns, or another quick quake, could put the power out at any time. A low murmur echoed from the walls as those in attendance stood fidgeting, waiting for Men Darnak to appear.

Mumbling polite words of apology, Sandon slipped between the assembled officeholders and made his way to the front. There were protests and offended looks as he wormed his way through, but as soon as they saw who it was, the expressions quickly changed. Inwardly wincing at every unnecessary piece of extra attention he was gathering, he finally found a spot. The assembled Guild people knew who Sandon was right enough; he just didn't like to advertise. Just as well he could rely on Men Darnak's penchant for the dramatic to divert any real attention. The Principal would draw out the moment, the expectation of the crowd, until the last possible second, then with a suitably theatrical entrance, he would sweep away all thought of anything else.

Sandon searched the room for a sign of Men Darnak's children. There stood Yosset Clier, the middle child Karin's husband, a look of annoyance on his heavily jowled face. Clier held a leading executive post in the Guild of Primary Production. The old Guildmaster, Aron Ka Vail's absence suddenly made sense. With Karin's connection, Men Darnak had little need of Guildmaster Ka Vail at this particular gathering. Yosset Clier's dark brow was drawn in a thundery scowl. He noticed Sandon watching, narrowed his eyes, gave the barest nod of recognition and looked away.

Further around the circle, stood the thin aesthetic figure of Karryl Ky Menin. Roge, the eldest Men Darnak boy was already indentured to the Guild of Technologists, which the pale, gray-haired man led. Ky Menin stood calmly, his hands crossed before him, seemingly bound up in his own thoughts. If he saw Sandon looking at him, he gave no sign. Sandon had long thought privately that Ky Menin was a one to watch. Ky Menin was far too hard to read, far too hard by far. Matching this one with Roge Men Darnak was perhaps not the best choice -- Ky Menin was too clever -- but the Principal needed to extend his influence evenly. Despite the risk of Roge being overwhelmed by Ky Menin's sly intelligence, Sandon understood and appreciated the wisdom of Men Darnak's choice.

Sandon continued scanning, searching for one more face. And then he spied him, positioned near the center, right back toward the rear of the group -- Karnav Din Baltir. The small bookish man was the only other Guildmaster here with a real, direct interest. Din Baltir stood partially concealed, watching the rest of the crowd nervously. His family controlled the Guild of Welfare. Medicines, social amenities, relief in times of crisis were his province. During Storm Season, Din Baltir's Guild naturally accrued status. Principal Men Darnak's youngest son, Tarlain, was about to take up formal indenture with Din Baltir. The boy had been working within the Guild for almost a year now. In the current circumstance, the Guildmaster had every right to look nervous. Though Tarlain's acceptance into Welfare was almost a foregone conclusion, the agreements had yet to be finalized. If Sandon knew him, Din Baltir would be dreading the Principal's impending announcement, fearful that it might upset his own plans. Having a Men Darnak within their ranks gave a Guild direct access into the workings of the Principate and Din Baltir would be aware of the importance. His small bright gaze flicked from person to person. His eyes met Sandon's, and he quickly looked away, pretending he hadn't seen. Sandon nodded to himself.

Still no sign of the children, but seeing these three, to be able to watch the way they responded to Men Darnak, was just as important. Din Baltir might bear watching as well. The youngest Men Darnak boy was full of high ideals, and Welfare was the perfect breeding ground for misplaced idealism. Din Baltir could easily shape the boy's direction.

And yes, there of course stood Men Darnak's priest, Witness Kovaar. The gaunt, robed aesthete hovered near the entrance to the side passageway. The corridor led to Men Darnak's private chambers, the place from where the Principal would make his entrance. Obviously, the priest meant to join him as soon as he emerged. Sandon pressed his lips together.

Satisfied that he had everyone important marked, he settled back to wait, paying only scant mind to the others in the room, though there were many here who'd be worth casual observation in other circumstances. Too many varied interests, too many houses were clustered in this one room for the moment. Better to keep his attention on the ones that mattered.

The Guild structure on Aldaban was complex, ruled by marriage, succession and family relations. The three major Guilds, Technologists, Welfare and Primary Production, controlled much of the world, but over it all sat the Principate. Voting rights within each guild varied, and they changed with each new succession, making it hard to keep track from season to season, but always there was the Guildmaster. As a Guild decided, the Guildmaster relayed its decisions to the Principate. No change could be enforced without the approval of the Principal and it was up to the Guildmaster to negotiate that approval. There was a long history to the Guilds' structure, echoing the way things were run on the vast colony ship Paradise that originally cast its human seed upon Aldaban's hostile ground. Technicians, Medical, Psyche, Supply, all had been run traditionally along family lines, and over all had sat the Officer corps, led in turn by the Captain. Principal Leannis Men Darnak could trace his origins back to the first Captain. Sandon sadly, could trace no such lineage.

And here, now, the Principal, Captain to Aldaban's entire population, was about to withdraw his firm hand. The very prospect made Sandon nervous. Men Darnak's children were individuals in their own right, but between them, they had a lot to learn. History, tradition were what really ruled but sometimes history and tradition required a little nudge. There was nothing in any of the children to disturb the way the Guilds functioned. Sandon wasn't particularly worried about losing his own role, certain that his services would be in demand, especially if Men Darnak wanted to maintain his influence. The old man relied on Sandon to be his eyes and ears behind the scenes. Sandon Yl Aris knew the way things worked, the key people, what moved them and motivated them. That knowledge would be crucial to a smooth transition of power.

A stir from the side hall interrupted Sandon's musings. Two uniformed functionaries entered from the passageway and stepped briskly to either side of the door. Moments later, Principal Leannis Men Darnak, tall and bearded swept into the hall. His ceremonial robes flowed about him. He strode up the steps to a table positioned at the center of the dais at the chamber's front. A halo of white hair floated about his head, flowing out behind. He walked confidently across the podium, stopped behind the table, and scanned the faces of the assembly, as if counting them, fixing one or two with his pale stare before moving on. Someone toward the back of the room coughed. Men Darnak glanced in that direction, narrowed his eyes, then looked back toward the passageway. He was still an imposing figure, thought