In Darsh, it seemed, an uneasy peace was being established. Verkan
Vall watched heavily-armed airboats and light combat ships patrolling
among the high towers of the city. He saw a couple of minor riots
being broken up by the blue-uniformed Constabulary, with considerable
shooting and a ruthless disregard for who might get shot. It wasn't
exactly the sort of policing that would have been tolerated in the
First Level Civil Order Section, but it seemed to suit Akor-Neb
conditions. And he listened to a series of angry recriminations and
contradictory statements by different politicians, all of whom blamed
the disorders on their opponents. The Volitionalists spoke of the
Statisticalists as "insane criminals" and "underminers of social
stability," and the Statisticalists called the Volitionalists
"reactionary criminals" and "enemies of social progress." Politicians,
he had observed, differed little in their vocabularies from one
time-line to another.

This kept up all the while the ship was passing over the Caspian Sea;
as they were turning up the Volga valley, one of the ship's officers
came down from the control deck, above.

"We're coming into Darsh, now," he said, and as Verkan Vall turned
from the visiplate to the forward windows, he could see the white and
pastel-tinted towers of the city rising above the hardwood forests
that covered the whole Volga basin on this sector. "Your luggage has
been put into the airboat, Lord Virzal and Honorable Assassins, and
it's ready for launching whenever you are." The officer glanced at his
watch. "We dock at Commercial Center in twenty minutes; we'll be
passing the Solar Hotel in ten."