The place had evidently been alerted to their coming, for while there were other patrons, a large section of the beach shore with its seating and serving arrangements was empty. Into this area, the team poured and settled itself. A thin, blond man in his mid-forties, perhaps, got up from one of the tables where he was sitting with one of the other customers and came over to the table to which Hal had been steered, and at which he had been joined by John, Tonina and Will Nanne.
"You're the host, I take it?" he said, smiling at Hal. His teeth were white and even, but he was one of those individuals who actually do better not to smile.
"That's right," said Hal.
"Could I have your credit number?"
Hal passed over his identity card. The other touched it to his wrist monitor, took it away and glanced at the dial of the monitor, then handed it back.
"Enjoy yourselves," he said. He smiled at Hal again and went away. About Hal, drinks and other consumables ordered by the rest of them were rising to the tops of the table surfaces.
Hal looked at the others at his table. Tonina had some tall yellow drink in a narrow goblet. Will Nanne and John had steins of what appeared to be - and smelled like - beer. Hal spelled out beer on the tabletop waiter, picked the same name brand that John and Will had ordered, and got a glass just like theirs.
"That'll do for me," said John. "The next one's with Will."
Hal stared at him.
"You got to have one drink with everyone else here before you settle down to your own drinking," said John, a little grimly. "That's the way it's done."
"Oh," said Hal. It did not require any effort to do the sum in his head. Twelve crew members meant twelve drinks. Will Nanne made that figure thirteen, and if they expected him to drink with Tonina as well, that would make fourteen. He felt uneasy for a moment.
However, there was no acceptable alternative. He put aside his uneasiness, lifted his glass of beer and drank. It was a lightly carbonated brew that did not seem too strong, and it went down easier than he had expected.
"You'd better slow down," said Tonina. "At that speed you won't make it to the third table."
His head felt perfectly clear, and his always-hungry stomach did not feel at all overfilled by the one beer. But she undoubtedly knew what she was talking about. He drank the beer with Will Nanne more slowly. After all, no one had said anything about a time limit in which he had to do all this. Will's beer also went down comfortably. Hal decided he rather liked beer. The only time he had tasted it before was when he had been six years old at a picnic at which Malachi had been drinking some; and at that time he had decided it was bitter, unattractive stuff. But there was a lot of food value in beer, he remembered now. Perhaps that was what made it taste better to him in these, his years of greater appetite.
He looked from his second empty glass to Tonina.
"Why don't you save me for last?" she said.
"All right," said Hal. He was feeling somewhat carefree. "Which table do I take first?"
"Doesn't matter," said Will. "Take the first one you come to."
Hal got up and, on second thought, chose first a table of three team members, one of which was Davies.
He found it enjoyable drinking with Davies and the others - although all the drinks they had ordered were strong enough to burn his throat. He was a little surprised when they reminded him that, having drunk with each of them, it was now time for him to move on.
He moved on.
He had not enjoyed himself so much in a long time. At the next table, the drinks were all different again. These also burned his throat, but they did not seem as strong as the drinks had at the table where Davies had sat. Once more he lost track of what he was supposed to be doing and had to be reminded to move on. At some indefinite time later he found himself being piloted back to his original table by people who went along on either side of him. He dropped into his chair and grinned at John, Will and Tonina.
Everyone else in their group, it seemed, were now gathered in a circle around the table, watching him. Tonina had scarcely touched her drink in all this time. Its level was lowered only slightly from what it had been when it had risen through the delivery slot in the table. She pushed it at him.
"You might as well just drink this," she said.
There was an explosion of protest from around the table.
"No fair! Cheat! He's got to drink a full one each time…"
"What do you want?" Tonina suddenly flared at them. "He shouldn't even be conscious, after what you've been feeding him! You want to kill him?"
"All right," said John. "All right… there's not enough gone from that glass to matter."
The protests died down. Tonina pushed the glass over in front of Hal. He reached out carefully, closed his hand around it and lifted it to his lips. It was warm, after all this time, and sweeter than he would have preferred; with a thick, lemony taste. But there seemed hardly any alcohol in it at all, as far as his taste buds could tell in their present numb condition. He decided that a thing worth doing was worth doing well and drained it before he put the glass back on the table.
The wall of people around him exploded in noise. He was slapped on the back, shoulder-punched in friendly fashion, congratulated… and without warning, his stomach seemed to come loose within him and float upward, queasily.
He kept the grin on his face and tried to order the stomach to stay put. But the physical controls he had learned from Walter and Malachi had deserted him. His stomach surged rebelliously…
"Excuse me…" He pushed himself to his feet, turned from the table and looked around with rising panic.
"Help him!" said Tonina, sharply over the chatter of voices. The voices died. Everyone was turning to look at Hal.
"What'd you order, anyway?" somebody asked her. But Hal did not stay to hear the answer. Davies had him by the arm and was piloting him away from the table.
"This way," Davies said.
Somehow he made it to the restroom with Davies' help; and there it seemed that not only everything he had drunk tonight, but everything he had eaten and drunk for the past two weeks, came up. A little later, alone, haggard and wan, he made his unsteady way back to his original table.
"Feel better now?" asked Tonina, when he sat down.
"A little," he said. He stared at her. "Did you give me something to make me sick?"
"I gave you what I ordered for myself," said Tonina, "and a good thing, too. You'd be in the hospital right now, if I hadn't. What made you think you could drink like that?"
"I was doing all right," said Hal, feebly.
"All right! Most of the alcohol hadn't hit your blood-stream yet. Thirty minutes and they'd have been giving you oxygen, at the rate you drank it. Don't you realize the only way to handle that much drink is to take it so slowly you metabolize most of it as you go?"
She sounded like Malachi.
"I know that," he said. "I thought I was going slow."
"Hah!"
"All the same," said Will, heavily, "that's not the way it's supposed to be done. He's supposed - "
"Why?" Tonina turned fiercely on the other team leader. "What more do you want? He drank everything the team gave him first. I was only along for an extra. And I told you. I only gave him what I ordered for myself. If he hadn't drunk it, I would have. Want me to order one right now and drink it to make you happy?"
"No need for that," said John, as Tonina's hand shot out to the buttons of the table waiter. "Will, she's right. He had a drink with everyone on the team, first, and you as well."
"You forget what he is," said Tonina. "For God's sake, you forget what he is! Look at him. Twelve large drinks in less than three hours and he's still not only conscious but halfway sensible. How many grown men do you know who can do that?"
"Not the point…" protested Hal, weakly. But Tonina ignored him and the others were not listening either. Sitting in the chair, he felt intolerably tired. His eyes closed in spite of anything he could do…