Petaybee

They named the planet after the Powers That Be, then let the words wear smooth in their mouths until only Petaybee was left — and somewhere in that wearing-down, the world woke up. This is a terraformed ice moon settled by the cast-off descendants of Irish and Inuit peoples, a place of snow-tracks and steaming hot springs where the ground itself remembers, warns, and sings to anyone who lives close enough to hear it. High above circles Intergal, the company that engineered the world and now means to strip it for ore. Anne McCaffrey and Elizabeth Ann Scarborough tell it across two linked trilogies. The first — Powers That Be, Power Lines, Power Play — follows Yanaba Maddock, a worn-out company soldier sent down to spy on the settlers, who instead throws in with the villages and the living planet against the men who claim to own both. A generation later, The Twins of Petaybee (Changelings, Maelstrom, Deluge) turns to her seal-shifting grandchildren, Ronan and Murel, who carry the argument down into deeper and colder water. The pleasure here is warmth pressed against cold: communal, song-threaded, more concerned with belonging and stewardship than with conquest, and unusually tender toward the idea that a world might be a person you owe something to. Begin at the beginning, with Powers That Be — Petaybee reveals itself in the order it was written, and the two trilogies read cleanly front to back.