Part 28 (2/2)

”Which type? Ceylon Basella alba Basella alba or or Spinacia oleracea?” Spinacia oleracea?” asked Amariyah. asked Amariyah.

Rhyssa and Dorotea were hanging behind the two and exchanged understanding grins.

Your student is showing off, Rhyssa said. Rhyssa said.

So long as he doesn't require me to have the same encyclopedic memory. I've forgotten most of my Latin, Dorotea replied with a wistful sigh. Dorotea replied with a wistful sigh.

”We plant both types of spinach in cut-and-cut-again tanks,” Ping replied.

”I wouldn't have expected the Station to have Bra.s.sica oleracea, Bra.s.sica oleracea,” Dorotea commented in a casual tone, as they made their way down the steps to the next level. It's one of the few names I remember. It's one of the few names I remember.

Good on you!

”Oh, we couldn't get along without them. We've the Greensleeves, loose leaves that don't grow too tall. Spivoy and Spitfire are within the outer height limit, but it's mainly the loose leaves,” Ping went on.

”Is this unit limited to Temperate Zone planting?” Amariyah asked.

Ping glanced back up at the older women, raising his eyebrows over her intelligent queries.

”Yes. We also have tropical, twelve-hour-day-length climates that the Arachis hypogaea Arachis hypogaea and and Cocoyams Cocoyams require.” require.”

”Peanuts and taro root?” Amariyah said, with a lift of her own eyebrows.

”We try to produce the varieties that appeal to the various elements of our multiethnic population. Of course, the protein we use can be flavored and shaped to be indistinguishable from what it imitates. Chicken, beef, seafood, even the more exotic venison, ostrich, and kangaroo.”

”Ahhhh,” and Amariyah dropped his hand to stand in front of the quadrant sown to one crop, its lush green hiding the tank that had nourished it. ”Oryza!” She could not resist touching the long stalks, carefully since the rice was close to being harvested.

Ping Yung pointed across the atrium. ”And our special cultigen of Tritic.u.m.” Tritic.u.m.”

What's that? Rhyssa asked Dorotea. Rhyssa asked Dorotea.

Wheat!

'Above the wheaten plain,' Rhyssa quoted. Rhyssa quoted.

Wrong! Dorotea replied quickly. Dorotea replied quickly. It's fruited plain, not wheaten. It should be the fruited plane It's fruited plain, not wheaten. It should be the fruited plane above above if you're referring to Padrugoi's crop! But 'amber waves of grain' are mentioned in the song, if you're referring to Padrugoi's crop! But 'amber waves of grain' are mentioned in the song, she conceded. she conceded.

I yield, Rhyssa countered. Rhyssa countered.

Dorotea rolled her eyes.

During the rest of the tour, Rhyssa and Dorotea listened and watched. Both were delighted by the rapport between Amariyah and the young hydroponic specialist. Once he realized how much the girl already knew, how well read she was, he was more than willing to expand and encourage her to access additional programs on Teacher that would improve her chances of securing a hotly contested position on the Padrugoi CELSS.

He even showed her the special seedling chambers, small alcoves branching off the main facility. As was her fas.h.i.+on, she crooned over the young plants, stroking a tendril here, with delicate fingers righting a drooping sprout there.

”What is your success rate with seedlings?” Amariyah asked at her most scholarly.

Rhyssa sighed.

Dorotea shot her a look. You don't suppose she'll try to increase his success factor do you? You don't suppose she'll try to increase his success factor do you?

If she does, will we know? Rhyssa asked in an equally rhetorical tone. Rhyssa asked in an equally rhetorical tone. She might at that. Just look at her! She didn't touch Chester as gently when he was a baby. She might at that. Just look at her! She didn't touch Chester as gently when he was a baby.

Is she making a benediction or a pa.s.s of her as yet undiscovered Talent? I don't feel-wait a minute, and Dorotea held up her hand. Then she gave her head an exasperated shake. and Dorotea held up her hand. Then she gave her head an exasperated shake. Just like my mother. Just like my mother.

Amariyah is a micropsychic?

She is if I have any sensitivity at all. Dorotea now gave a snort of disgust. Dorotea now gave a snort of disgust. And if we put an Incident net on her while she gardens, it'd only inhibit her Your grandfather tried so hard to catch Mother at it . . . And if we put an Incident net on her while she gardens, it'd only inhibit her Your grandfather tried so hard to catch Mother at it . . .

Knowing what her grandfather thought Ruth Horvath did in her micro-Talented way, Rhyssa stifled her giggle. Dorotea glared at her and then grinned like a mischievous female much younger than her actual age.

Well, your grandfather really had hoped that Mother would be able to develop the therapeutic touch healing, Dorotea added. Dorotea added.

Rhyssa was saved from an overdose of Latin, genetic selection, yield optimization, and cultivation management by the appearance of Yeoman Nicola Nizukami, coming to guide them to their luncheon appointment with the admiral.

Amariyah was loath to leave Ping Yung but he finally terminated the occasion by reminding her, ever so gently, that this was his s.h.i.+ft and he must get back to his plants.

”I'll tell you how the seedlings do, Amariyah”' he said as a final promise to her.

No sooner were they in the lift to the Control level than Amariyah heaved a great sigh.

”I will return,” she murmured.

Threat or promise? Dorotea asked. Dorotea asked.

Knowing the determination of that young lady, both. Let's do some discreet listening, shall we?

Since their visit had been so expeditiously arranged, it was unlikely that the presence of five parapsychics upstation had reached scuttleb.u.t.t. Rhyssa was of two minds on that discretion: she would have liked to sample reactions to their presence and perhaps catch other biases, but now she felt free, legitimately, to catch the prevailing mental climate of the Station. So she and Dorotea uns.h.i.+elded their minds, sampling the general tone of those pa.s.sing them in the corridors.

Mostly people were concerned about their present duties or wondering about rest period entertainment. Neither telepath caught anything untoward: and only one officer was puzzled as to how the Limo had arrived at First Base well before its estimated time of arrival. Had it been testing the long awaited ”new drive”?

Who's thinking that? Dorotea asked. Dorotea asked.

A senior grade lieutenant. Oh, it's Madlyn's crush-Dash, Rhyssa responded. Rhyssa responded. And he thinks of himself as 'Dash,' too. He's a comm officer so he would probably know about it in the line of his duty. And he thinks of himself as 'Dash,' too. He's a comm officer so he would probably know about it in the line of his duty.

He didn't hear about it from Maddie, did he? And Dorotea's tone was stem. And Dorotea's tone was stem.

She doesn't come into his mind.

She'd be annoyed about that! Dorotea was most amused. Dorotea was most amused.

”This way, ladies,” Nicola said, palming open a door and stepping aside for them to enter.

”Ah, Rhyssa, Dorotea,” and the admiral came toward them, arms wide in welcome. Behind him was a conference table-Rhyssa wondered if this was where Ms. Leitao had collapsed during the history-making session with s.p.a.ce Authority. ”Boris is on his way up but his cohorts are on the prowl, or so he advised me. Come, come. What would you like as an aperitif? Barney there will get it.” Dirk Coetzer waved to the discreet appearance of his steward who smiled at the ladies. ”By the time Boris arrives and we've had lunch, I think we'll be able to contact First Base so you can rea.s.sure yourselves that Peter Reidinger is really all right.”

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