Antagonist - Childe Cycle 11 (98 page)

"The
fountainhead
of
wines,
France,"
Dahno
said,
apparently
in an
expansive
mood
once
more.

"Really?"

"No,
not
really.
Not
in
the
sense
of—say,
having
invented
the idea.
But
the
French
vineyards—some
of
them—still
rate
as
legendary
names."

Dahno
was
swirling
a
large
amount
of
cognac
in
a
huge
round glass,
pausing
now
and
then
to
raise
it
before
his
nose,
before
taking a
small
drink.

"You
picked
out
a
fine
meal,
brother,"
Bleys
said
now.
"I
appreciate
it.
But
we
need
to
do
some
serious
talking,
including
going
over our
plans
in
more
depth,
and
I
don't
feel
comfortable
talking
in
the open—do
you
have
a
safe
place
we
can
go?"

"We
could
go
to
your
hotel
room,"
Dahno
said.
He
shrugged.
"Or we
could
pick
some
other
hotel
...
with
a
random
choice
of
hotels and
our
technology,
we'd
be
safe
enough."

Startled
by
his
brother's
sudden
casualness,
Bleys
agreed
when Dahno
suggested
that
he,
Bleys,
go
back
to
his
hotel
first;
Dahno himself
had
an
errand
to
take
care
of,
he
told
Bleys,
but
he
would
be along
shortly.

Bleys
had
been
in
his
room
for
more
than
two
hours
when
the
room communicator
beeped.
It
was
conveying
a
printed
message
from Dahno,
saying
that
something
had
come
up.

"Take
a
flight
to
Nairobi,
"
the
message
said.
"There's
a
room
waiting for
you
in
the
Sandman
Hotel.
I’ll
come
to
you
there."

With
little
choice,
Bleys
did
as
Dahno
directed,
pausing
only
to send
a
message
from
a
public
kiosk
in
the
terminal;
but
he
ended up
waiting
in
his
room
in
Nairobi
for
nearly
a
full
day,
until
finally another
message
appeared,
sending
him
to
South
America.

CHAPTER
32

The
brothers
finally
came
together
again
three
days
later,
shortly before
noon
on
a
thinly
grassed
plaza
set
high
in
the
Andes.
On three
sides
of
the
plaza
the
gray
stones
of
a
small
and
ancient
city's low
buildings
were
forgiven
by
pastel-washed
trimmings
and
the gaily-colored
clothing
of
the
citizens.
The
fourth
side
was
a
laid-stone
walkway
that
overlooked
a
deep
drop
to
the
floor
of
a
valley. From
their
seats
at
an
elderly
wooden
table
on
the
grass
Bleys
and Dahno,
protected
from
the
cold
wind
by
a
small
weather
buffer, could
look
over
and
beyond
that
walkway,
across
the
distance-misted
valley,
at
farther
ranges
of
mountains
layered
blue
and
purple
before
the
jagged
horizon.

"I
think
this
is
my
favorite
spot
on
the
whole
planet,"
Dahno said,
his
gaze
directed
out
into
the
great
chasm.
"Sometimes
you can
look
down
on
the
eagles."

He
brought
his
eyes
back
to
his
brother.

"You
know
about
eagles,
don't
you?"
he
said.
"I
know
you've
always
liked
to
read
about
Earth's
animals.
This
whole
trip
ought
to be
a
treat
for
you."

"It
is,"
said
Bleys.
"I
even
went
to
the
animal
park
outside
Nairobi before
my
shuttle
left
for
Buenos
Aires."

"One
of
the
great
things
about
Earth,"
Dahno
said,
seeming
to have
dropped
into
a
more
contemplative
mood,
"is
that
the
animals are
different
from
continent
to
continent.
Africa
is
famous
for
its
animals,
of
course,
but
Asia
and
the
Americas
have
their
own,
very
different,
animal
populations.
On
the
Younger
Worlds
the
only
variances across
planets
are
climatic."

"Old
Earth
has
the
advantage
of
a
biosphere
established
through millions
of
years
of
evolution,"
Bleys
pointed
out.
"The
Younger

Worlds
can't
match
that
in
only
a
handful
of
centuries,
particularly when
they're
limited
to
the
commercially
viable
breeding
stocks that
can
be
transported
over
interstellar
distances."

"I
imagine
you
saw
elephants
and
lions
in
Africa,"
Dahno
said. "Wait
until
we
get
to
North
America,
where
you
can
see
a
grizzly bear
in
its
habitat—
that
is
the
undisputed
king!"

Bleys
kept
up
his
side
of
the
conversation
until
they
were
interrupted
by
a
waiter
who
came
walking
over
from
a
small
bistro
Bleys had
not
previously
noticed,
tucked
in
as
it
was
on
the
ground
floor of
one
of
the
elderly
buildings
on
the
south
side
of
the
plaza.
Bleys wondered
what
security
measures
Dahno
could
have
taken
in
this setting;
he
was
sure
there
must
be
something—just
as
he
was
sure he
had
his
own
measures
in
place.

Once
more
Dahno
displayed
an
intimate
knowledge
of
the
menu and
an
easy
familiarity
with
the
waiter,
insisting
on
doing
the
ordering
for
them
both.

He's
nervous,
Bleys
thought,
as
he
watched
his
brother
discussing with
the
waiter
minute
details
of
their
meals
to
come.
That
kind
of conversation
isn't
his
style.

The
only
times
Bleys
had
ever
seen
his
brother
act
in
what
could be
described
as
a
mercurial
fashion
had
been
those
periods
when Dahno
had
been
under
great
stress.
The
spectacle
disturbed
him: the
nervousness
he
believed
he
was
seeing
made
him
question
how well
he
knew
his
brother,
and
that
unexpected
flaw
in
his
perception,
when
combined
with
the
fact
that
there
must
be
something going
on
to
make
Dahno
act
this
way
...
suddenly
Bleys
found himself
in
unfamiliar
territory.

Abruptly,
he
was
on
his
feet
and
striding
toward
the
cliff's
edge only
a
few
meters
away,
leaving
Dahno
and
the
waiter
deep
in
the subject
of
wines.
That
edge
was
guarded
by
a
low
stone
wall,
from the
top
of
which
a
black-enameled
iron
rail
grew
to
a
height
just
below
his
waist.

He
looked
over
that
edge,
as
if
daring
himself
to
be
uncomfortable
with
the
height.
Was
he
becoming
nervous
himself?
he
wondered.
He
had
not
planned
the
move
that
took
him
away
from
the table;
he
had
been
on
his
feet
and
in
motion
before
he
thought about
it
at
all.
It
was
unlike
him
to
react
like
that.