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."And it really doesn't trigger my appetite."Other dinner guests were filtering into the room and beginning to sit at the semi-circular tables.The mayor was off in the kitchen on some unspecified errand.Holt said, "The good people of North Terrea are pragmatists.When the community decided to pay lip service to culture and proclaim a painter laureate, the choice of frescoes in here rather than any other medium was because the plaster would lend an additional layer of insulation.""Laying it on with a trowel, eh, boy?" said Mayor MacDonald, coming up behind them."I hope you both are hungry." Without his long fur coat, the mayor looked almost as bulky, dark signs of hirsuteness curling from sleeve-ends and at his collar.The blue-black beard curled down to mid-sternum."Skelk steaks, snow oysters, my wife's preserves from last green season, shrake liver paté, barley gruel; let me tell you, it's one extravagant meal.""We're grateful," said Morgan."Can we start soon?""In a blink, my dear." Both Morgan and Holt felt a heavy, mayoral hand descend on a shoulder.Mayor MacDonald raised his voice and said, "All right, friends, citizens, guild-mates.On behalf of all of us who make up the populace of North Terrea, I want to welcome formally our guests; Holt, here, wise I know you all remember fondly"—his hand clamped down, long, powerful fingers paternally crashing Holt's clavicle—"and Morgan Kai-Anila, the splendid contract pilot so many of us have watched and admired on late-night battlecasts." Warned by the look on Holt's face, Morgan had tensed her shoulder muscles.It was still difficult not to wince.The scattering of applause around the dining room did not seem over-enthusiastic."Our boy here," continued the mayor, "and his friend, are just passing through.As best I can figure, they're heading off on some solemn but secret mission for our kin down in Wolverton.Naturally we here in North Terrea are delighted to lend whatever aid we can in this mysterious activity."Neither Holt nor Morgan decided to pick up the cue."Now I have a theory," said Mayor MacDonald, "that all this has something to do with the rumors about someone attacking our neighbor world toward the sun.If that's so, then we all can wish only the best fortune to these two, Pilots Calder and Kai-Anila."The applause was a bit more prolonged this time.Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlServers had started to carry in platters of steaming food.The mayor motioned them toward him."Let our guests eat first." The food looked and smelled good.Morgan and Holt showed no reluctance to dish themselves respectable portions of steaks, biscuits and vegetables."As we share this food today"—Mayor MacDonald lifted his arms to gesture around the circle of frescoes—"I hope you'll all reflect for just a moment on our four centuries of hard-fought progress on this world.Our ancestors left their friends, sometimes their families, certainly their worlds and indeed their entire human civilization to seek out this planetary system.Our new worlds were remote from the interference and paternalism of the old order." The mayor looked far above them all, focusing on something invisible."I think we've done well with our self-generated opportunities." He looked back at them then, meeting eyes and smiling.The smile widened to a grin."Let's eat."The applause seemed generated with unabashed sincerity."Not the election rhetoric I'd have expected," said Holt in a low voice to Morgan."He must be waiting to sink in the hook later.""I'm not hungry!" The voice was loud and angry enough to rise above the dinner hubbub.The speaker was a young woman about Morgan's age.Her dark hair was piled atop her bead.Her high collar displayed a delicate spray of lace, but her expression belied her appearance.By now the mayor had sat down to Morgan's right.Holt sat to her left, "Is something amiss, Meg?" said Mayor MacDonaid.He held a piece of meat only slightly smaller than a skelk haunch in one hand."Only the company at this meal," said the woman called Meg.Other conversation around the died away."It's one tiling entirely to dine with Holt Calder.I might not like it, but I recognize the necessity of letting him eat with us.We're all quite aware where our community's investment bonuses originate." She glared toward Morgan."No, it's her I register an objection to."Morgan's, voice was a bit higher than' her usual, controiled tone.She half rose from her chair."What's your objection? I've done nothing to you."Meg rose, from her own chair."It's who you are," said the woman, "not just who sits before us," She pointed, "Aristocrats… You are a blood-bloated, privileged parasite on the body politic." Meg appeared to savor the words.Morgan shook her head in astonishment and then sat back down.The mayor looked unhappy, "I said," he repeated, "let's eat."Meg stalked out of the dining room.Those around her developed an abiding interest in the serving platters, in gravy and chops.Holt touched Morgan's shoulder.She flinched away."My sympathies," Mayor MacDonald said to her.In a confiding tone, he added, "The external universe is not an commodity to sell here.I fear we don't find Holt as comfortable a dining companion as we might wish." He turned back toward the young man."Just between you and me, lad, I couldn't blame you if you found the world not worth saving." Mayor MacDonald put an index finger to his lips."Just don't let on to my loyal constituents I said that." He looked at the great hunk of meat in his other hand."And now," he said, apparently addressing the food, "and now, let us eat."Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlThe windhover skated across the tundra ground-blizzards with full tanks, barely rocking in the gusts.The pilot and passenger rode with full bellies and an anxious sense of anticipation."That's it, isn't it?" said Morgan."That peak off to the east."Holt nodded.'"Where now?"Holt gave her a compass heading [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]