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[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] Don't you think it's prudent to wait until the Colonel comes out?" "That will not be necessary," the Pooka responded. "I am the only Quadulan on the expedition. I am not on the sim world. I also know the Colonel's name. We will allow him to get in a bit so that he is away from the entrance and then I will go in. If he strikes, I am not so easily taken, and this will be a good test. If he does not, then he is irrelevant to me." She sighed. "Suit yourself. Ur you weren't in your own people's military, were you?" "The concept of military and civilian among your people is very quaint," the Pooka responded, going to the entry hatch. "It shows just how long most of you have been without a war. Your people must have opposites of everything, even sexes." And with no further elaboration, it triggered the opening sequence on the hatch, which released its air and swung open, filling the area temporarily with very hot, humid, somewhat fetid air. The Pooka slithered in, and then vanished as the hatch closed and resealed itself behind it. Socolov's corn link buzzed. "Yes?" "Is anyone in the sims?" Father Chicanis asked her. "Yes, Father. Two. N'Gana and the Pooka." "They can be trusted on computer automatics," the priest told her. "Please come up. I would like to speak to you." She was surprised, but replied, "Yes, of course. I'll be right up." Father Chicanis sat in the small meeting room, relaxing comfortably on a chair. Although he had elaborate vest-ments as befitted an Orthodox priest, and both a black cas-sock and one in reversed color, aboard ship he used the formal garb only when serving as priest and confessor. The rest of the time, like now, he wore comfortable slacks, well-worn black boots, and a pullover shirt in one or more colors and patterns. Today's was plain white. "Please sit down, be comfortable," he invited. She sat and relaxed, curious. "What is this all about, Father?" "You, mostly. We're actually speaking one last time to just about everybody individually. You're not like the military types. You are in extremely good physical shape and you keep it that way, but you are no professional ath-lete. You are also somewhat shy around others. I've no-ticed that in mixed company, even in the sim area, you seem self-conscious or a bit nervous." "I well, it's not something I normally do, you know." "Indeed. But it is you who suggests that that is the normal dress down on Helena. We are following your scenarios. Why do you think there won't even be the proverbial fig leaves down there?" She shrugged. "We have lived for centuries in a dispos-able society. Even what we are both wearing now will be simply discarded. It's easier to simply have our machines create new and fresh ones than to go through all the prob-lems making them heavy-duty and cleanable. Clothes, then, would go early in a post-takeover society and they would be irreplaceable in a culture like ours where everyone can have everything made to order in their own bed-rooms. I suspect that when they first came back onto the surface, they used the fig leaf approach, but that quickly became pointless, as they are that exposed, it's that consistently warm, and natural biology from sex to taking a crap would be so, well, public. They may have ornamental things, or things denoting rank, but in general nothing we'd think of as clothes beyond some kind of makeshift carrier for weapons or perhaps to carry babies. I don't think they would understand the concept of modesty, but I was born and raised with it." He cleared his throat and nodded. "I see. My problem, Kati, is that we'll have to put some folks down on the ground. The odds are they will have to travel some dis-tance. Not everyone, of course, but the Colonel and the Sergeant, certainly, as well as our Pooka, and, frankly, me, since I know the land even if I no longer know the world. Takamura and van der Voort will remain aboard; Page 88 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html their task will be in developing what we hope to extract. What I am trying to say is that, while we could really use you along, we will be three men and a giant hairy snake, all naked and using only the most primitive of tools and weaponry, and you. You're not a fighter; I sincerely doubt if you could kill anyone or anything, at least not without such provoca-tion as you do not wish to imagine. Under these condi-tions, with that kind of party, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |