See Leaden Skies.
Having said that, I am now checking in more detail what else this story says about skies on Rustum. The story is full of multi-sensory descriptions of the environment in the Rustumite lowlands.
The aircar descending from the plateau of High America flies just below the clouds:
"Above, it was pearl-gray, except in the east where a blur of light marked the morning sun." (p. 26)
Scanning ahead, we are surprised to find a paragraph that begins:
"Skies unutterably blue and clear by day, brilliant after dark with stars or aurora..." (p. 28)
- but this is Danny Coffin reminiscing about life on the colonized plateau above the clouds. When he and Jack O'Malley land in the lowlands, we drown in descriptions or just in lists of trees, odors and sounds. In the forest:
"...boughs overarched the trail." (p. 32)
- so that the sky is hidden by:
"...that high, high ceiling of bronze, amber, and turquoise..." (ibid.)
- and the many small fliers called "volants" resemble "...living rainbows." (p. 32)
Above the sea:
"...the sky arched colorless, except where the sun made it brilliant or patches where the upper clouds drifted apart for a while. Those showed so blue that homesickness grabbed Danny by the throat." (p. 37)
Having reread carefully so far, we understand Danny's homesickness.
After a typical lowland downpour, the clouds withdraw except for a few like snowpeaks reflecting golden sunlight. At night, stars and a moon are visible although less sharp than on High America.
It is after all these descriptions and also after the two men's struggles in their appointed task, that we are told:
"Heaven was not leaden, it was silver." (p. 48)
1 comment:
Kaor, Paul!
Another way, perhaps, for describing "leaden skies" would be to call them "pewter-grey."
Ad astra! Sean
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