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where he worked was located on the other side of the main port and was too far for an easy commute in
the rain. Besides, he would typically be as buried in his work as she was in hers. They understood that
about each other. It was one of the reasons their marriage, unlike so many on Fluva, survived.
She was not the only human in the restaurant. Unlike the rest of them, however, she chose to sit by the
edge of the dining area, at a small table that overlooked the bustling, rain-washed town, instead of farther
inside.
Gazing at the panorama of busy strilk-suspended businesses and homes, offices and meeting places, it
was difficult to envision the brutal clash that was taking place elsewhere between harried Deyzara and
persecuting Sakuntala. Precipitation ran steadily and peacefully off roofs and walkways, while
pedestrians of several races wended their way to and from work and home. Skimmers dropped off
travelers and made deliveries. Harmless winged gerulenk and gaseous totolu soared or floated peacefully
among walkways, buildings, fungi-infested trees, and pylons. It was all very civilized and serene. A
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Commonwealth-sponsored facade, she knew, that masked the deeper troubles that bubbled and boiled
just outside the town limits.
Hanging from the sloping ceiling (there were no flat ceilings in downpour-drenched Taulau or anywhere
else on Fluva), cages full of domesticated varisanu steeped the restaurant in song. In addition to their own
inborn harmonic repertoire, the fist-size, sparkle-throated varisanu could mimic any music they heard
following a single listening. All four hirsute wings unfurled, red eyes bobbing at the tips of short stalks, one
nearby blue-and-gold individual was presently declaiming a superb, if muted, rendition of the princess s
final aria from Act Two ofTurandot . In the same cage, an equally attractive yellow-and-lavender
specimen was tootling its way through an entire cycle of atonal Deyzaran folk songs. The consequent
counterpoint, she reflected, would have seriously strained the descriptive abilities of the most egalitarian
music pundit.
Her server was a senior Deyzara. Less susceptible to mold and rust than a mechanical, the live waiter
was also cheaper to operate in Fluva s remorselessly damp climate. Matthias accepted the food
appreciatively and was about to begin eating when a visitor intruded on her vision.
Looking up, she found a short, slim man with a mournful expression gazing down at her. She decided he
could not have weighed much more than fifty kilos. His hair was thin, blond, and receding. He looked to
be about thirty. Worn down early, she concluded. One of those sad individuals who found themselves
peeled prematurely off the roll of Life.
 Sorry to break in on your lunch, Administrator Matthias. He spared a furtive glance for the other
occupants of the dining area.  I really need to talk to you.
 Here? She forked food, chewed calmly. Whatever else the man was, he did not appear threatening.
 Why not make an appointment with my office?
 Kind of in a hurry. Don t like formalities. He cast a meaningful glance in the direction of the other chair.
 May I? I think it s important.
She sighed inwardly. One of the main drawbacks to being in charge of everything was never having any
privacy. People were always confronting you with complaints, suggestions, requests, demands, angry
objections to something you d just done or were going to do or hadn t even contemplated. It went with
the job. Hopefully, it wouldn t take long for her uninvited guest to have his say.
 Clifford Kamis, he was saying as he slipped into the chair.  You can call me Clif.
She mustered a smile.  Nice to meet you, Clif. I m afraid I can t talk to you for very long. I don t get
much time to myself, you see, and 
 I ll be real brief, he assured her, interrupting.  It s about those two skimmers that went missing.
She hesitated with a full fork halfway to her lips, carefully set it back down on the rectangular Deyzaran
serving tray.  What about them?
He stole another glance at the busy dining room.  Everybody s talking about them, but nobody seems to
know much of anything.
 And you do Clif? She was watching him intently now, her rapidly cooling lunch temporarily
forgotten.
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He looked away and shrugged uncomfortably.  Maybe. Maybe not. It s just something I seen. I work
graveyard cleanup at the port, Administrator.
She nodded understandingly. He had her full attention.  Go on, Clif. Don t worry. Anything you say to
me here stays with me, and is between you and me alone.
He was appropriately encouraged.  People are whispering that they didn t come back  cause they were
sabotaged. Talk is that the Deyzara is responsible. Me, I don t see how the two-trunks could bring off
something like that. Seems to me you got to really know your way around the insides of a skimmer s
instrumentation to bring off something like that, you know?
Folding her arms, she leaned forward and rested them on the table.  You don t think the Deyzara did
it?
 What for? He looked out over the town, into the steadily increasing downpour that had replaced much
of the original view with a palisade of drumming gray.  I mean, what would the two-trunks get out of it?
Especially if they were found out and held to blame. A few folks, they re saying that the Sakuntala did it
and are making it to look like the Deyzara are responsible. Now, that makes more sense to me,  cause
right now the Sakuntala need to make the Deyzara look as bad as possible, so s to help justify what their
trigger-happy warriors are doing to the two-trunks. He shook his head, lips tightening.  But I ve never
seen any Sakuntala messing around with skimmers they weren t using. Certainly not late at night, when [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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