Damia's Children (8 page)

Color bar?
Laria found the concept disconcerting.

Then Tip's foot trod heavily on her heel and she stopped making tangential conversation. They had passed the portal and were now in the usual broad foyer where appurtenances, single-wheeled bikes,
and fly belts were in a state of inspection readiness.

The Mrdinis had been on a war-basis for centuries now so she shouldn't have been surprised by the military flavor, even if she wasn't all that familiar with it: undoubtedly one of the adjustments she would have to make.

The place was spotless—not that one could see too many details in the semi-light in which all 'Dini accommodation were kept. Laria was glad that she had been such a frequent visitor to the Aurigaen village. And this, of course, was the reason she had been encouraged.

She followed in Plus's wake as the official tour continued, to the bathing rooms on both sides of the main entry, to the apartments, and finally to the standing lift that gave her access to her own. Plus would not fit on the two-person affair . . . no more than a piece of flooring and the central shaft that lifted the floor up to her quarters or down to the level. It was an ingenious amenity. Tip gestured for her to take her place, it took the other side and made a big show of pressing the control button. There were two, each labeled with luminescent paint—one marked D, and one marked U. Laria signed her approval and appreciation.

Sunlight poured through the wide windows of her own special apartment and she looked about her, clapping her hands, which was fortuitously just the way 'Dinis expressed delight. And it was an amazing surprise. She had fully expected to be living in 'Dini-style quarters: had made up her mind to that necessity if the exchange was to be properly honored. But to have her own space and place was unforeseen.

There was a human style bed, with beautiful thick covers (for 'Dinis never used any), pillows, a chest, and a small press for garments, a desk, a terminal (displaying a map of the city with her current position shown by the pulsing red cursor icon) and audio equipment, shelving, two Human chairs, and two 'Dini-style stools, with tail-holes. There were two doors: one led out to the roof area and the other must lead to sanitary facilities.

OH, TIP, BEAUTIFUL LIVING SPACE
!
MUCH BEAUTIFUL FOR SINGLE HUMAN. MUCH EFFORT DESIGN AND THINGS. BEAUTIFUL. THOUGHTFUL. CONSIDERATE. FRIENDLY
! In her excitement she had trouble getting her tongue about the 'Dini phrases.

You're doing all right, kid!
Yoshuk said, his voice warm with approval.

Can you understand 'Dini?

I can understand your surprise and pleasure, Laria, and the syntax has to be 'Dini. I'll do my best to learn it from you. They want you happy here and, as you see, they went to a great deal of trouble. Obviously worth it.

Oh, it is, Yoshuk. It is. But . . . I'm going to need drapes on these windows. The light is blinding.

Didn't know what colors you liked,
Nesrun put in.
Got some things for you to pick from soon's you get over here.

Tip was signing at her, too, stating that as an adult, she naturally had to have her own quarters. The time for her to share her bed with others was over.

She caught Yoshuk's chuckle at that comment and Nesrun's hiss of censure.

From a 'Dini viewpoint, certainly.

Huf went on to say that they knew she did not
require a hibernatory space but she was to make known any other needs that would comfort her.

THIS ONE TAKES GREAT PLEASURE IN THE QUARTERS. EXPRESSES GREAT PLEASURE AND THANKS. SO KIND. SO CONSIDERATE. SO HONORABLE.

Someone had brought the lift down again and now it rose to her level with her carisaks. With Tip's help she cleared them.

“Hang on pretty now,” Huf said with a forward jerk of its head, meaning this was very important. From its own pouch, it began to take necklaces of shells and stones, bracelets with uncut gem charms, and what her mother had told Laria was an old mantilla comb, carved of ivory, which Tip carefully secured above its poll eye.

Understanding came and Laria rummaged in her cases for the pearls her father had given her for her birthday: double stranded necklace, earrings, bracelet, and two rings, one pearl and one of a fire opal. She had been astounded by such a lavish present—and one of jewelry—but now she understood that the jewels were as much a part of her role here on Clarf as her fluency in the language.

One of the areas in which human and Mrdini compared favorably was in their sociability. 'Dinis loved to have eating sessions with their kin and peripheral groupings. That was the reason for the large empty squares she had seen on the way here. For it was to the nearest of these that Tip and Huf now led her. Huf had put on its special treasures, the mother of pearl crown, various chains of uncut gems and other pretties, with coil upon coil of shell bracelets. Huf nodded approval as it saw
how bedecked Laria was and then her old friends led her to the square.

A 'Dini percussion band was in place and rivaled even the thunder of departing space vehicles, for that continued. Food had appeared, spread out on great tables which had been set up during the inspection, and hundreds of the small cubes and rounds that were 'Dini seats.

As honored guest, she sat—on a conspicuously Human chair—by Plus, who had added extra decorations to its display, and several smaller versions of itself, also much bejeweled. It was very polite to examine in close detail the jewelry of another 'Dini and so Laria performed that social obligation, exclaiming in admiration and managing to find something new to say about each ornament presented for her inspection.

By the time these courtesies for Plus's entourage had been acquitted, her jaws ached and her tongue was dry in a parched throat.

“Drink?” she asked Tip who had been hovering close by: possibly for just this requirement. She turned her head away from the main group and rubbed her jaw muscles, yawning to ease the tension in her mouth and lips: actions which could be misconstrued by 'Dinis if seen.

The sun was beating down again and she resolved to find herself a hat as soon as possible. She'd never needed one but somehow she had to protect her head.

Sunstroke is what you hazard,
Yoshuk told her,
but we've allowed for that.

Distance meant nothing to a Prime telepath but Laria was instantly aware that Yoshuk “sounded” closer. She peered around her and saw the two
Humans entering the square. They were instantly lost in the melee of 'Dinis dancing to the rhythmic percussive beats. In fact, the rhythm was very difficult to deny and she'd had to keep her feet from tapping as she made the diplomatic jewel inspection. 'Dinis were very susceptible to cadence and the adept 'Dini dancer could perform incredible feats in tempo with drums or other tapped surfaces and objects. She'd danced at home but she also knew that there were certain protocols about dancing which she had to respect while on Clarf. Tip and Huf had been unable to explain the ramifications but she'd been promised full instruction once she arrived on Clarf.

Suddenly the two Humans emerged out of the gyrating crowd of 'Dini, and the man both wore and carried headgear. The woman, who was taller than the slender little man, wore some sort of ornate turban about her head. The yellow and white fabric made the perfect frame for her dark skin and dark eyes.

“I am Nesrun of Betelgeuse,” the woman said and her smile of very white even teeth was even more impressive against the dark chocolate of her skin. She held out her hand, palm up, and Laria made the formal contact, brief and somewhat electric as it was. Nesrun had a startling touch, vibrant, deep yellow, with a curious acid taste. But she nodded as if she approved of however she perceived Laria in the tactile contact.

“I am Yoshuk of Altair,” the man said, grinning broadly with some secret amusement as he held out his hand.

As he was quite the most beautiful man Laria had ever seen, she was curiously hesitant to complete
the courtesies. His smile deepened as if he had caught her diffidence though she had instantly shielded. He was softer than Nesrun had been, deep blue, and lemony: a combination which startled her almost as much as his beauty. The skin touch was swiftly replaced by the hat he put in her outstretched hand, a hat similar to the one he wore.

“These are specially developed against harsh tropic suns, Laria. Our welcome gift to you.”

Laria was properly grateful, especially as the hat was an excellent fit, shading her eyes as well as the back of her neck with its slanting brim. There was air space above her pate: neither heat nor the pressure of the sun was so intensely felt.

“With all we know about Clarf, no one thought to mention the sun,” Nesrun remarked.

“Though, God knows, I have mentioned it innumerable times and so has every Human visitor,” Yoshuk added with a droll grin of resignation.

Laria was aware that she was staring at Yoshuk, but he continued to smile pleasantly as if accustomed to such scrutiny: even inviting it, the way he turned his head so she had the full benefit of his classic profile. Then Nesrun, apparently by chance, trod on his foot and he danced away from it, much as a nervous colt might. That analogy interrupted Laria's daze and she fell into a more normal manner.

“Were you two responsible for my marvelous quarters?” Laria asked.

Yoshuk shook his head and Nesrun answered. “No, the design is all their idea. They knew what humans required. I did suggest that you might be happier picking the final touches yourself.” She
rolled her eyes upwards. “They learn quick, though.”

“You should have seen what they'd rigged up for us!” Yoshuk grinned.

Trouble is, Laria thought, the grin doesn't spoil his looks, except I'd hate to annoy him. She grinned back.

“What did you mean, Yoshuk,” she said, searching for a safe topic to end the pause, “by saying you'd be happy to learn syntax from me? Don't you speak 'Dini?”

Nesrun's laugh was pure malice which Yoshuk totally ignored. “Neither of us speak 'Dini, Laria,” Nesrun said. “Can't clack, click, or whistle with any fluency. We get along by signing—our own brand—but it suffices. Or we ask for a Dreamer. That,” and she glared at Yoshuk, “is the port of last resort.” She gave a controlled shudder.

Laria regarded her with some surprise. “Don't you
like
'Dinis?”

“I've got accustomed to them,” she said sardonically, “but they are certainly
not
my chosen bedmates.” Again another little shudder.

Yoshuk leaned forward, almost conspiratorially, shielding his hand from those around them. “She's not
exactly
xenophobic . . .”

“You're lucky to have been raised with them, Laria,” Nesrun put in. “Saves a lot of adjustment.”

“Don't you want to
learn
'Dini?” Laria asked Nesrun. It seemed terribly impolite to live in the midst of a new culture and not
know
about it; be unable to communicate with the inhabitants, especially when so much was at stake!

“I'd like to learn signing,” Nesrun said reluctantly,
compressing her lips briefly, “but you're going to have to teach that, too, you know!”

“I do,” Laria said and sighed.

Yoshuk gave her the kindest smile imaginable. “Don't worry, Laria. You'll cope!”

He said that with such sincerity and sympathy that Laria got a second wind of resolution!

“I'm to work out Tower times with you . . .”

Yoshuk's smile became mischievous. “You'll be on
call,
certainly. But the real work won't come right away. It's almost more important for you to teach right now. In fact, it's imperative.”

Laria took a deep breath. “I can see that it is.”

Then Plus leaned sideways to attract her attention and she politely concentrated on what it was saying. With the dark lenses and the hat, her headache was reduced to a mere pulse. Or maybe that was her blood throbbing in time to the percussives?

She lasted out the celebrations and was ready the next morning for the students of both races.

W
HEN his sister came home for his sixteenth birthday celebration, Thian was even prouder of her than her parents—if that could be possible. She was tanned a warm ruddy shade—up to midbrow, where her hat sat. She was extremely fit, and showed them all up by leading them a merry chase out hunting on Saki. Nor had she lost her skill with arrow and dart for, at the end of the day, she had more in her hunting bag than anyone else. She was the same, and yet she was
more,
Thian decided. Better, and not the least bit smug like some of his Denebian cousins who were being trained by his parents in Aurigae Tower.

He was scheduled to take over Laria's teaching duties on Clarf so he wouldn't have to put up with cousins Roddie and Megan, who were only T-3's and shouldn't take on the airs and poses they did. The one time he had tried to take the wind
out of their sails, his parents had jumped on him with all four feet and threatened to put him into Coventry if he ever pulled another stunt like that.