Part 56 (2/2)

”Thank you,” said Lunzie. She could hear the others gathering their outer wraps. Her own silvery parka was in her hand.

Within the dome, the Governor's Palace glittered as opulently as promised. Around it, broad lawns and forma! flowerbeds glowed in the light of carefully placed spotlights. The medical team walked on a narrow strip of silvery stuff that looked like steel mesh, but felt soft underfoot, like carpet. A news service crew turned blinding lights on them as they came to the ma.s.sive doors and the head of the receiving line.

”Smile! You're about to be famous,” muttered Bias.

Lunzie had not antic.i.p.ated this, but smiled serenely into the camera anyway. Others blinked away from the light and missed the first of many introductions. Lunzie grinned to herself, hearing them stumble in their responses. Such lines were simple, really, as long as you remembered to alternate any two of the five or six acceptable greeting phrases and smile steadily. By the time she was halfway down the line, well into the swing of it, with ”How very nice” and ”So pleased to meet you,” tripping easily off her lips, the back of her mind was busy with commentary.

Why, she wondered, did the heavyworlder women try to copy lightweight fas.h.i.+ons here, when everywhere else on Diplo they wore garments far better suited to their size and strength. Formal gowns could have been designed for them, taking into account the differences in proportion. But no heavyworlder should wear tight satin with flounces at the hip, or a dress whose side slit looked as if it had simply given way from internal pressure.

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One of the men-the Lieutenant Governor, she noted as she was introduced and put her hand into his ma.s.sive fist-had also opted for lightweight high fas.h.i.+on. And if there was anything sillier than a ma.s.sive heavyworlder leg with a knot of hot pink and lime-green ribbons at the knee, she could not imagine it. The full s.h.i.+rt with voluminous sleeves made more sense, but those tight short pants! Lunzie controlled herself with an effort and moved on down the line. The Governor himself wore more conservative dark blue, the sort of coverall that she'd seen so much of since she arrived.

Refreshments covered two long tables angled across the upper corners of the great hall. Lunzie accepted a ma.s.sive silver goblet of pale liquid from a servant and sipped it cautiously. She'd have to be careful, nurse it along, but she didn't think it was potent enough to drop her in her tracks. She took a cracker with a bit of something orange on it and two green nubbins that she hoped were candy, and pa.s.sed on, smiling and nodding to the heavyworlders around her. Besides the medical team, the only lightweights were the FSP consul and a few consulate staff.

She recognized some of the heavyworlders: scientists and doctors from the medical center where they'd been working. These clumped together to talk shop, while the political guests-high government officials, members of the Diplo Parliament (which Lunzie had heard was firmly under the Governor's broad thumb)-did a great deal of ”mingling.”

Hie green nubbins turned out to be salty, not sweet, and the orange dollop on the cracker was not cheese at all, but some land of fruit. Across the room a premonitory squawk from an elevated platform warned of music to come. Lunzie could not see over the taller shoulders around her. As the room filled, she felt more and more like a child who had sneaked into a grownup party.

”Lunzie!” That was the Lieutenant Governor, his Wide white sleeves billowing, the ribbons at his knee jiggling. He took her free hand in his. ”Let me introduce you to my niece, Colgara.”

Colgara was not as tall as her uncle, but still taller

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than Lunzie, and built along the usual ma.s.sive lines. Her pale yellow dress had rows of apricot ruffles down both sides and a flounce of apricot at the hem. She bowed over Lunzie's hand. The Lieutenant Governor went on, patting his niece on the shoulder.

”She wants to be a doctor, but of course that's just adolescent enthusiasm. She'll marry the Governor's son in a year, when he's back from ...” His voice trailed away as someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned away, and the two men began to talk.

Lunzie smiled at the girl who towered over her. ”So? You're interested in medicine?”

”Yes. I have done very well at my studies.” Colgara swiped at the ruffles down the side of her dress, a nervous gesture that made her seem a true adolescent. ”I-I wanted to come see your team at work, but you are too busy, I know. Uncle said you must not be bothered, and besides I am not to go to medical school.” She glowered at that, clearly not through fighting for it.

Lunzie was not sure how to handle this. The last thing she needed was to get involved in a family quarrel, particularly a family of this rank. But the girl looked so miserable.

”Perhaps you could do both,” she said.

”Go to school and marry?” Colgara stared. ”But I must have children. I couldn't go to school and have babies.”

Lunzie chuckled. ”People do,” she said. ”Happens all the time.”

”Not here.” Colgara lowered her voice. ”You don't understand how it is with us. It's so difficult, with our genes and this environment.”

Before Lunzie realized it, she was being treated to a blow-by-blow account of heavyworlder pregnancy: Colgara's mother's experience, and then her aunt's, and then her older sister's. It would have been interesting, somewhere else, but not at a formal reception, with all the gory details mingling with other overheard conversations about politics, agricultural production, light and heavy industry, trade relations. Finally, at great length,

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Colgara ended up with ”So you see, I couldn't possibly go to medical school and have babies.”

”I see your point,” said Lunzie, wondering how to escape. The Lieutenant Governor had disappeared into a sea of tall heavy shoulders and broad backs. She saw no one she knew and no one she could claim a need to speak to.

”I've bored you, haven't I?” Colgara's voice was mourn-fiil; her lower lip stuck out in a pout.

Lunzie struggled for tact, and came up short. ”Not really, I just ...” She could not say, just want to get away from you.

”I thought since you were a doctor you'd be interested in all the medical problems ...”

”Well, I am, but . . .” Inspiration came. ”You see, obstetrics is really not my field. I don't have the background to appreciate a lot of what you told me.” That seemed to work; Colgara's pouting lower lip went back in place. ”Most of my work is in occupational rehab. That's why I focus on making it possible to do the work you want to do. People always have reasons why they can't. We look for ways to make it possible.”

Colgara nodded slowly, smiling now. Lunzie wasn't sure which of the things she'd said had done the trick, but at least the girl wasn't glowering at her. Colgara leaned closer.

”This is my first formal reception-I begged and begged Uncle, and he finally let me come because his wife's sick.” Lunzie braced herself for another detailed medical recitation but fortunately Colgara was now on a different tack. ”He insisted that I had to wear oflworld styles. This is really my cousin Jayce's dress. I think it's awful but I suppose you're used to it.”

”Not really.” Lunzie didn't want to explain to this innocent that she'd been forty-three years in one suit of workclothes, coldsleeping longer than Colgara had been alive. ”I have few formal clothes. Doctors generally don't have time to be social.”

She could not resist looking around, hoping to find something-someone, anything-in that ma.s.s of shoulders and backs, to give her an excuse to move away.

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