That would be good. Now they just had to find the damned kitchen.
BOOK THREE Section 3 Chapter v
JULY 3, 2424
1728H
Just cocktails, Ari had said, inviting the new residents for the evening reception in her apartment, and she knew if Sam and Justin and Grant were there it wasn’t going to be a wild evening, certainly not in the sense that the youngers had used to have wild evenings. They were all grown up now. They had outside interests. It was just a quiet drink shared among new neighbors, canapes and not even a very late evening.
And it went well. Amy showed up with Quentin– theywere a couple, everyone knew it, even if Quentin hung out with Grant and Sam’s Pavel and Yanni’s decidedly older Frank. Maddy’s Samara stood out like a fashion doll in that company; well, but so did Maddy, who’d arrived in a verypricy azure blue bodysuit with just the tiniest hint of white sparkle‑lights running at cuffs and collar. Maddy looked fabulous. Amy wore a nice black suit with an electric blue blouse, shocking and stylish contrast to her companion. Quentin, in his black uniform–bet that Maddy had had something to do with that, too. Patrick Emory showed up–he looked fairly cheerful, for cousin Patrick. He’d already spilled a drink on his coat, and had two more, and was getting a little loud, but he was family, and Ari felt responsible for him, not to leave him outside the way everyone had, even the first Ari. He had worked in Admin, in records, just quietly, forever, the same job, every day, and he did pretty well, by all she knew, though he had no relationships and never seemed to get any enjoyment out of life. His obsession was vids, and he would talk about them if you wanted to; and he always came to family parties.
Aunt Victoria Strassen hadn’t moved in: Aunt Vickie had her apartment over in Residential A. She sent a precisely written, neatly folded note that informed her niece that she appreciated the offer, but that she preferred her current residence and her old neighbors, and sent along a little box, which she called a housewarming gift. For Aunt Victoria, that was very, very considerate. It proved to contain a small carved plaque, which said, between sprigs of carved leaves, Family Matters. Probably Aunt Vickie had taken a bit of effort picking that out, to mean absolutely anything one wanted it to–particularly whatever Aunt Vickie meant, which might not be entirely polite, considering Vickie’s opinion of her origins. But Ari had Spessy hang it on the inner wall of the dining room, where it nearly matched the stone.
Justin and Grant showed up in brown knit and tweed–it set off Grant’s red hair and did absolutely nothing good for Justin. Set Maddy on him, was Ari’s wicked thought.
But she held back. She thought probably she’d pushed Justin just a little too far all in one day as it was, and figured if he’d wanted to stand out in the crowd, he might really have picked something other than that medium‑beige sweater and Harris tweed coat.
Truth was, he didn’t look particularly happy in being here, and mostly, nursing one drink, and surrounded by people twenty years younger than he was, he stayed close to Yanni, who himself stayed close to the cluster of azi–social, all of that lot of azi, more even than Florian and Catlin. The olders seemed more comfortable there, and with each other.
As for Florian and Catlin, both of themstayed on the fringe of the azi group, cheerful enough, but notindulging in wine at all this evening, she’d noted that, not even with these people who were her dearest friends in all the world. She saw absolutely no reason in present company that they couldn’t or shouldn’t relax, but they didn’t let go, not for a heartbeat. They’d worked so hard, so long, they’d gotten her here safely, they’d gotten her friends here, and there wasn’t anything wrong tonight–was there?
Was there something afoot that she didn’t know?
She almost went and asked them. But she was the hostess, and she had a very conscientious serving staff trying to manage a new arrangement, a new kitchen, and new premises, and trying not to ask questions of her. That was her situation to watch, her current level of crisis being an upset and lost azi maid standing there idle.
“Joyesse,” she said, “you’ve done very well setting up. Would you mind serving canapes? Go to Wyndham. He’ll like your help.”
Joyesse took off. Happy again. All her younger friends were happy–Sam, with his girlfriend at his side, and with Pavel hovering close to him, was telling one of his stories, talking about the build. Justin and Yanni were talking about something–probably lab business. Or Jordan, their mutual problem. And she wasn’t going to think about Jordan tonight.
The fish wall was an absolute success. Everyone admired it. Even the azi serving kept looking up at it, or around at it, in moments of utter, unguarded distraction, eyes taking in this and that detail. Amy naturally wanted to know the names of all the fish and everything that waved or moved or crawled in that tank–because Amy’s place had a similar tank, but round, a cylinder in the middle of her living room, and her aquarium specialist would serve Amy’s place, too. Amy knew fish, but she’d never dealt with salt water, and she was fascinated, happy and excited–for Amy. Maddy–Maddy got a waterfall, with orchids. Sam got a river all through his apartment, with a little pond under a glass floor in the rec room; and Yanni got a big vivarium, with lots of little skinks, which were lizards; and plants and flowers–Yanni said it was a damned waste of money. That was Yanni. He was most probably nervous about actually enjoying it.
She hadn’t asked Stef Dietrich to move in, so there, for someone double‑dealing in relationships from the time he was a kid. She’d arranged a very good job at Viking for Stef, he’d live like a prince on a Reseune salary on that mining station, and that was that for him, who’d tried to break hearts in the group…and never had changed his ways.
There were Dan and Mischa Peterson, each with a significant other; there was Stasi Morley‑Ramirez, who’d grown up taller than any of them–she just towered; she was going into airport admin, and had a beta azi assistant she’d gotten on her own. She’d grown much more serious than she’d used to be, and that was very, very serious; but she unbent and laughed with Dan and Mischa, like old times.
And there were Mika and Tommy Carnath, each with their own place, both single, so that would have to be watched: they got terrarium gardens and sky‑roofs. There was Dan Peterson and Will Morely with under‑floor ponds–Will had a relationship going with Peterson’s sister Judith, and she was all right: she was a Gamma Supervisor, and had a clean record, and they were almost engaged.
There were no children in the entire lot. That was going to change, this November.
God, she thought, Giraud. Giraud was going to be fascinated by the skinks.
And that would actually work very well. Giraud had so loved little microcosms. He’d visit here, with the fishes. With Sam’s river. He’d be all over the place. If she were a kid again, in this place, she’d have it all mapped out, and she’d be everywhere.
Sam kept company with his significant other, Maria. She looked very nice in a white lace‑edged skirt–was a little tanned, a little freckled, a little on the well‑fed side, and was very anxious, clinging close to Sam and thus far speaking to no one without being spoken to. But it was niceto have somebody find a relationship who wasn’t a security problem, and if Sam liked her, she had to have special qualities. Give Maria plenty of latitude–because it was, in a very major way, Sam’s evening, and he deserved to be absolutely happy. Ari found the chance to say so, in the way of welcoming everyone officially.