Read Exile's Song for Free Online

features, the sharp nose and penetrating eyes, were wary and hopeful at the same time. Perhaps some woman in his family had been seduced or dishonored by a Terran. That was a scenario repeated all too often on human worlds. The Terrans were famous for their disrespect of local customs. Unwanted or unfathered babies were all too common all over the Empire’s old territory . . . wherever Terrans could interbreed, they did. And low-tech worlds weren’t noted for birth control.
    “Geremy is a boot-licker,” the foxy boy grumbled.
    “And Ethan likes to argue. He’ll probably end up as a judge.”
    “Oh, no,” Ethan protested. “I’m going to be . . .” he stopped, Margaret saw the expression in his eyes, the look of hunger and longing. She had often seen it during her stint of student teaching. It concerned an ambition so precious that even to speak of it to an outsider was painful.
    “Ethan is apprenticed to the cloth-dyers guild, but he really wants to be a spaceman.” Geremy got a wild punch on the shoulder for this disclosure.
    Margaret did not laugh. It was obvious from Ethan’s face that he had expected her to. They were nice boys, she thought, the sort of brothers she might have had if the Old Man and Dio had ever had other children. Although she had never wished to travel between the stars, she understood that the young man wanted something different than following family tradition. She had never imagined as a girl that she would end up collecting music on worlds she had never even heard of, yet she knew she had not wished to become a mother or a wife.
    Margaret knew, too, that when she had been what she guessed Ethan’s age to be, she would have died rather than admit her secret ambition to become a dancer or a famous actress. She could laugh at her younger self, but she would never laugh at this solemn boy.
    “It is very difficult to become a spaceman,” she said gravely. “The first thing you must do is get a good education, with special attention to mathematics.” Ethan studied her cautiously, measuring her as she had measured him shortly before. He seemed to decide she was taking him seriously and stood up rather taller. A moon was rising, and it cast dark shadows beneath his eyes. The moon looked like an amethyst against the darkened sky, and she tried to remember its name. Her weary brain refused to cooperate.
    Geremy studied her thoughtfully. “Are you Terranan?”
    “Don’t be silly,” Ethan said, “Anyone can tell she is not Terranan.”
    “No, I come from a world called Thetis,” she told them. “A lovely world full of waterfalls and great oceans. We live on islands where the winds blow warm and smell of salt and flowers.” Margaret had a sharp wave of homesickness for the warmth of Thetis. It surprised her by its intensity. She found herself thinking of her father, staring out at the rolling surf with a goblet clutched in his single hand. In her mind, he turned his dark eyes away from the sea and looked at her, almost as if he felt her presence across the light-years which lay between them. She shook herself back into the present. Born on Darkover, yes, but the home of her heart was still Thetis.
    “I don’t even know which star it is in this sky. I have visited many worlds, though. I am a musician.”
    “You have been on lots of planets? Please, let me carry your bag. Would you—could you—tell me everything?” Ethan grinned up at her, and was transformed, his face aglow with interest.
    Margaret surrendered her grips, forgetting her earlier fears in her exhaustion. She knew this wanderlust; sometimes it seemed to be some universal drive among the children of Terra. She had a touch of it herself, despite her loathing of the travel itself. At first she spoke haltingly, groping for the right words. Then she had a sudden leap of mind, as if she had discovered an unexpected cache of language lurking in the recesses of her mind, as if some barrier were breached. It was amazing,