Part 21 (2/2)

So, late in the evening there weren't even any ground vehicles about the Tower buildings and only the two personal capsules in the cradling yard. The sweet-scented breeze sweeping down from the high snowy mountain range was lightly moist and the atmosphere had a high oxygen content, exhilarating him. Afra took a deep breath and exhaled.

'It's a lovely world you have here, Damia.' She smiled up at him, her blue eyes brilliant under the fringes of long black lashes.

'Yes, isn't it? Young and vigorous. Come see where I live. And see how well all the c.o.o.nies have adapted to Aurigae.' She led the way from the landing stage to her dwelling.

Her house, a cantilevered affair on several levels, perched on the high plateau above the noisy metropolis. Its randomly sprawling newness had a vitality which the planned order of both Earth and his native Capella lacked. Afra found the view stimulating.

'It is, isn't it?' Damia agreed, following his surface thought.

Then she directed his mind to her day's discovery, giving the experience exactly as it had happened to her.

'And the touch is unlike anything I've ever encountered.' 'You certainly didn't expect it to be familiar, did you?' Afra asked in dry amus.e.m.e.nt.

'Just because they originate in another galaxy doesn't mean they can't be humanoid, and thus somewhat familiar,' she replied.

'Dreamer They both heard an excited chatter as they started up the last flight of shallow steps to the main entrance to her quarters. She grinned over her shoulder at Afra.

'They know you're here,' she said just as a tumble of brightly furred bodies squeezed out of their special door, sorting into five separate ent.i.ties. Squealing and clicking with delight, they swarmed up Afra's long legs - one c.o.o.nie making a splendid leap from the top step directly to his chest. Laughing, Afra reached up to keep the daring Crisp from losing her grip on the smooth fabric of his tunic.

Meanwhile, arthur scrambled to his shoulder, twining his banded tail around Afra's neck, just as Merry arrived on the other shoulder and Priss and Sc.r.a.p argued with each other for Afra's crooked right arm.

Merry was disgusted and leapt to Damia's shoulder, scolding her siblings impartially as she proprietorially threaded her tail about Damia's neck.

'Aurigae' 5 unscrewed all their training, too,' Afra remarked as he carried his squirming load into the house.

But his smile took the sting from his words. 'I'm positive that Crisp and arthur have put on kilos since they left Callisto.

'They've filled out a lot. The hunting's good,' Damia said.

'They're foraging?' Afra was both surprised and pleased.

c.o.o.nies were infinitely adaptable which was why they fared well wherever they were raised. This litter had been born on Callisto under Damia's bed, if Afra remembered correctly. They had always been Damia's but had included him in their exuberant affections.

I'Daily, or should I say nightly? What they don't eat they deposit very carefully in my bathtub - where it's easy to clean up.' Damia made a face. 'Are you hungry?

I've probably interrupted your normal s.h.i.+ft.' 'Oh, don't go to any trouble for me,' he said, settling on the long deep couch in the living area so that he could pet the c.o.o.nies who rapturously exposed their white-furred bellies for his special attentions.

'No trouble at all,' Damia replied. Mischievously she kinetically started several cooking operations at the same time, each one a dish which she knew Afra particularly enjoyed. For quite a few minutes, the kitchen was full of flying utensils, condiments and raw materials being processed.

'Always the thoughtful hostess,' he said, graciously inclining his head. 'How fast is this alien closing on Aurigae?' 'Give me a break, Afra! I only know it's there! How could I possibly judge relative speed? I've got to establish some frame of reference.

'Well, you've always been precocious.' He had to duck a vegetable peeling which she flung at him in her pique.

He neatly launched it into the disposal unit. 'Seriously, Damia, how long do you think you'll need?' Appeased by a reasonable request, she considered. 'I should have some idea of relative speed in a week or so.

Maybe even sooner, but I doubt it.' Absently fondling soft, silky c.o.o.nie bodies, he watched her as she ended the telekinetic preparatory ballet of edibles, and began to sample what she was cooking, corrected seasonings and added final ingredients. Like most T- is, she enjoyed manual work and kept her house without relying on the mechanicals which most households considered essential. In a very short time, she prepared a perfectly cooked, attractively presented meal at which he glanced casually, seemingly reluctant to disentangle his hands from the c.o.o.nies' playful paws and teeth.

'Scatter, kids,' Damia said, firmly Separating the little animals from their willing victim.

With startled squeaks, the c.o.o.nies fled from the couch to positions where they turned to glare in her direction, muttering c.o.o.nie imprecations. Afra glanced at her, his eyebrows raised in mild rebuke.

'They had a good romp with you,' she said, 'but I went to a lot of trouble to give you a decent meal and I don't like my efforts wasted.' She sat down across from him, plate in hand.

'Your efforts are not wasted,' he said, putting his fork in the crispy ginger chicken served with mangetout.

'Tasty enough.' Damia made a face at him. ”'Tasty enough?”' She mimicked him. 'Can't I ever impress you?' she asked, half-wistful, half-sharp.

'Why should you want to at this late date?' he asked, amiably.

'I've never forgotten our introduction.' And he grinned.

'Oh, that!' As always, that reminder caused her to flush.

'It's not fair of you to continually bring that up. So I smiled at you until Elizara took me from you and then began to bawl my eyes out. I was hardly aware of what I was doing, now was I? a bare hour born.' 'My dear Damia,' and he chuckled appreciatively, 'you have always been aware of your effect on an audience.

He bowed his head towards her. 'But let us attend to the business at hand. How can I help you? Shall I take over the regular Tower workload and leave you free for surveillance?' 'I think you'll have to.

When I got back in from resting, before mother despatched you, Federated Mines and Ores notified me of intent to forward nine drones to the refinery on one of Betelgeuse's outer planets.' 'Nine shouldn't be a problem with David to catch,' Afra replied.

Damia rolled her eyes. 'Big daddies, every one of them, not those small interstellar drones you and Mother play with.' 'The big ones?' And Afra regarded her with some concern. 'And they expect you to manage such ma.s.s with only a Damia grinned with satisfaction at his response. 'I always do manage, you know,' she said with considerable pride.

'Still jump-starting other people's Talents?' 'There's nothing wrong with that, Afra, if it helps me spin off the workload they expect of me.' Afra leaned forward, lightly touching his finger to her hand.

'There's such a thing as being too stiff-necked proud, Damia.

Especially as you might put your T-6 at risk of burnout. Did you think of that?' 'Yes, I have, but Keylarion is st.u.r.dy. She doesn't have much finesse but she sort of sets her heels down and pushes.' Damia gave a little laugh. 'We might need more generators if this traffic in big daddies continues.

'Earth Prime has the right to know when his people are overloaded.' Damia found it difficult to evade Afra's yellow eyes.

'I would have mentioned it if the heavy traffic keeps up, Afra.

I'd thought of insisting on the linked pod configuration you initiated, but it's more a question of ma.s.s than convenience. Up tilt some dark thought of the big daddies, Keylarion and I have been able for all they've asked.' 'At least you had sense to ask for help today,' Afra said, and then shook his finger at her, simulating censure. I think I'll recommend that you're allowed a T-4 Ah ah, Damia,' and held his finger in a sterner pose, 'I'll have made the recommendation if I judge the traffic requires it.

You won't have to admit you're unable to handle it.' 'I am able to handle it,' and she jerked her chin up in challenge.

'Indeed, but not if you've got to play sentinel, too. I should imagine that your staff will give a collective sigh of relief to know you're being reinforced.' Looking down to artistically rearrange the vegetables on her plate, she found that Afra was, as usual, correct in his supposition. The tip of his finger touched her chin and, with a deft kinetic tilt, he made her look him in the eye.

tHis mind touch was so sympathetic and understanding that she smiled ruefully.

'I don't have a big staff,' she admitted, adding hastily, 'but we really do work well together. And I haven't heard so much as a wisp of complaint at the workload.' 'Then you've a good loyal group who will be delighted to see me appear in the Tower to help one and all move those ponderously packed pachydermical projectiles. When we've done that, your retiring in your capsule for a spot of peace and quiet will seem quite in order. Right?' 'As always, Afra.

He regarded her steadily. 'Is that so hard to take from me, Damia?' She mushed up the vegetables on the end of her fork and replied honestly. 'No, not from you, Afra. Never from you. You don't change,' she added, rather more tartly than she intended.

He grinned at her. 'Good old reliable Afra, consistent and constant.

She wrinkled her nose at him, experiencing an odd twinge of regret for his flippant self-description. 'You're not that old.' 'No, actually I'm not,' he said enigmatically and served himself a second helping from her pots and pans.

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