‘You will notice, Colonel,' Millard was saying,' that there are location diagrams at convenient intervals by the belt-lifts.' And he indicated the one they were passing. 'Your quarters are located at Interface Three, that's two circles right of our present position, Three-L-110. Please memorize that and record.’
Yana's hand was halfway to her belt for the recording device which had so often been part of her basic equipment when she remembered Marmion's gift. She had drilled herself on the position of the keys and now, with a brush of her hand, opened the recorder and spoke Three-L-110, Interface Three.
‘Handy gadget,' she murmured, turning her head over her shoulder to Sally.
‘They are.’
They continued to the turn, the panels sliding open at the wave of a wrist to admit them and closing behind them, shutting out the frenetic noise of the concourse.
‘The walkway is on the portside,' Millard said, 'or you can walk for the exercise.’
‘I need the walk. Oh, is it safe?' Yana replied.
‘Safe enough, Colonel.’
‘That's going to unnerve me,' Yana said between her teeth.
‘It's supposed to have the opposite effect,' Millard murmured back, and she saw the glint of mischief in his eyes.
The living accommodations were on two levels, with belt-lifts again to take the upper-level residents to their doors. Obviously the second level was more secure. There was also an air of refined elegance in the floor covering, the discreet non-stimulating murals and decor. Brass territory, Yana thought to herself. And also thought she could stand a bit of this right now, especially with Petaybee's winter on its way when she returned to the planet.
Marmion's quarters were on the upper level and seemed to take over one whole quadrant of the circle. Each wristband had to be presented before the panel would admit another body. Yana had lost track of the luggage 'bots, but when she arrived in her room everything was there, so she suspected a service access and wondered if the 'bots got their IDs checked, too.
In a state of shocked bemusement, Bunny was peering around the sumptuous main lounge of Marmion's quadrant. And it was a quadrant, Sally told her with a grin.
‘Marmion rents four of the five levels to Gal-Three,' she added.
‘And the fifth?’
‘That's environment and another company owns it and the equipment. Marmion does have a share in the company but only a small one.’
‘Oh!’
‘This way, Bunny, Diego,' she added, taking the newcomers on a small tour while Marmion went off with her business colleagues, and Bailey and Charmion deliberated exactly how to entertain Bunny and Diego when they returned to the lounge.
‘We're all on the guest side,' Sally explained. 'Marmion's got a complete office here so she can keep up with her investments.’
4
Youngling, you are troubled, the rumble of the clouded snow leopard's concern brushed soothingly against the painful thoughts and feelings attacking Cita's spirit.
‘Coaxtl,' the girl reached up and put her arm around the neck of the great cat, burying her face in fur. 'Oh, Coaxtl, I am nothing but trouble. I have been weak and foolish and now my new family, my sister and her mate and my beautiful new aunt, have left me behind and my kind uncle is so displeased with me he seldom speaks to me any more. I am indeed unworthy to be included in the activities here, too stupid to help, too needy, too…’
Too long dwelling in the false caves of men, Coaxtl said with a cough of disdain. Too long away from the clean cold snow. Come, let us go to the mountains together and chase each other's tracks and find a rabbit who wants to die. It will be like the old days, before the men brought you here.
Goat-dung wailed and hugged the cat harder. 'Oh, poor, poor Coaxtl, I know you have stayed here away from your home just because I am too stupid to look after myself and you are a very kind cat…’
Hush that! And stop thinking of yourself as Goat-dung, Youngling. The others have given you good names - the name of your dam, Aoifa, and the name of your sire and your litter-mate, which is Rrrrrourrrrke! Coaxtl took great pleasure in roaring the name. Or they call you Cita, which is a better name than La Pobrecita, the poor little one, or Goat-dung. This one would drop all of those kitten names and simply call oneself Rrrrrourrrrke!
‘I wish I were your kitten, Coaxtl.’
Well, you aren't, but we can pretend. Come. Though you've gained some weight since you've been here, still you are not too large for one to carry on one's back pan-way. One smell's snow and one wants to rrrroll!
Goat-dung, no, Cita, no, The Rrourrke Youngling, climbed on to the back of her friend, and together they bounded away from the river and the town, from all the bustling people, away from the memories of the terrors of the SpaceBase, and out into the forest with its showers of rust-coloured needles and bright golden leaves. Rabbits, squirrels and birds scattered before them as Coaxtl raced through the red underbrush, her paws crackling on the carpet of old leaves which sent up a delicious, spicy smell with the cat's every step.
Before they reached the edge of the forest, Coaxtl suddenly laid down and rolled over. Youngling Rrourrke tumbled into the leaves and laughed as Coaxtl mock-pounced her, all four paws landing clear of the girl while the furry face gazed into hers.
‘Your breath smells like dead meat!' the girl cried.
Yours smells like you've lived among men too long! Coaxtl answered. What are you lying there for, lazy Youngling? It's your turn to carry me!
‘And how should I do that, crazy cat?' she asked, scrambling out from under the creature's underbelly, where twigs and leaves dangled from the silky fur. The girl opened her mouth wide and pretended to go for the back of the cat's neck. 'Shall I carry you in my mouth, like a mama cat?’
Don't be impertinent! Coaxtl said, and bounded off into the brush. Bet you can't track me!
Goat-dung,' Pobrecita,' Cita,' Aoifa,' Youngling Rrrrrourrke roared her name and plunged through the brush after her friend. Every time she paused, bewildered when the cat seemed to be nowhere around, she heard a laughing thought just ahead of her and saw the quiver of a bush or the flash of silver fur which was not awfully good camouflage in the brightly coloured forest, and she was on the trail once more.
And then, without warning, she ran out of the forest onto the edge of the muskeg-humped plain, and there was no Coaxtl, not anywhere.
Hsst, the cat's voice cautioned. Hide. A man-thing comes.
‘What? Where? Coaxtl, I can't find you. Where are you?' she asked, and rustled the brush trying to find sight of the cat. But while her back was turned, she suddenly smelt what must have alerted the cat long before, and saw a small flat vessel, not like the copters she had once known as Company Angels but what Bunny had referred to as a'shuttle'. It had letters on the side. Bunny had been showing her stupid sister letters before she left. She thought the names of those letters were P, like Petaybee or Pobrecita, which began with such a letter, and I - no, the table on top - that was it! Bunny had said that a 'I had a table on top -PT… S like snake or serpent - PTS. That was what it said on it.