Free Ecolitan Prime (Ecolitan Matter) by L.E. Modesitt Jr. Page B

throat again and study Sylvia Ferro-Maine. Odd combination, with the slate gray eyes, dark hair swept up like a dancer’s, and the light complexion. She conveyed an impression of fragility.
    “Institute does not play now so large a part in our history as once it did, though this time, at crossroads in trade talks, the Institute was indeed consulted. For that I should be most grateful, for that has allowed me the opportunity to see New Augusta.”
    “Was the Institute the same as the ‘Black College’ that trained the ecological terrorists of the Ecologic Rebellion?” Her tone was casual, curious, almost uninterested.
    “All citizens of Accord did rally together at that time, but the question you have asked, dear Lady, presupposes the Empire was right and Accord wrong. If I answer at all, then I justify your assessment of us all.” He shrugged as if puzzled.
    She laughed, and the short, sharp sound was nearly musical. “I surrender. Let me put it in another way. Did the Institute play the key role in the Ecologic Secession, as I believe you call it?”
    “Most key role, since only the Institute at that time had all the necessary skills gathered under one roof. Times have changed, now, with the five colleges, and the outworld learning centers, and there is less reliance upon the Institute.”
    He leaned back in the low chair, almost losing his balance as he discovered that the chair reclined and swivelled simultaneously.
    “What changes do you see as the most important?”
    “Already lengthening what I promised would be short, dear Lady. After Accord was settled and the Institute founded, the government created emphasized self-sufficiency, balanced use of resources, and independent means of interstellar travel. All with good results, until the Empire became most insistent on taking a control over us and over our uninhabited systems. We resisted. Others understood our plight and joined us.”
    He shrugged. “Now, once again, the Empire has questions about trade and commerce and what systems belong to whom, and here I am to mediate if possible what can be done. Accord is older, and wiser, I am told, and would rather talk this out. So we hope the Empire will talk in good faith as well.”
    He looked away from her and out through the wide permaglass at the vista of the mountains, sharp and barren, even in the distance.
    “Accord like Terra is,” he said softly, “with a gravity a touch stronger and a sky that is more green and near the same land masses with oceans as well. Less salty are the seas, and thicker is the air. Accord is younger, and that may be an answer. Our sun is whiter.”
    The Ecolitan shrugged again.
    “Scarcely it seems know I what else to say or what you wish to hear.”
    “What do you all do? A dumb question, I suppose, but none of your occupations are listed in the socioeconomic breakdowns.”
    Nathaniel repressed a whistle at the thought of the Empire’s collecting socioeconomic data on Accord.
    “Like all people everywhere, we work. Some farm, some craft, some heal, some in industry, some in trade. A small microprocessing industry we have, and some small shipyards, but not on large scales, not like New Glasgow or Halston. I had limited scientific talents, and so came into the Institute.”
    A discreet tapping sounded.
    Nathaniel rose.
    “Our lunch perhaps arrives.”
    Standing at the portal was a waiter, trim in solid tan, and guiding a fully set glide table.
    “Lord Whaler, your order.”
    After watching the waiter set up the table in quick and measured movements and ushering him out, Nathaniel gestured toward Sylvia.
    “At last…”
    He sat Sylvia at one side, and pulled the bottle of sparkling white wine from the ice bucket.
    The traditional plastic cork would have come out easily, but the Ecolitan struggled with it as if it were difficult, and in the process aimed it almost at Sylvia. The small missile exploded out of the bottle neck and zipped by her face with a centimeter or two