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No, Rimon knew quite well that Syrus Farris would not bring his Gens in so early he had to pay extra stable and lodging fees. His advance men were probably here, lining up space and fodder, making appointments—Rimon had done that job for his father once. But Kadi and I will be gone before Dad arrives. Relieved, he put the worrisome thought out of his mind.
The headwaiter recognized him—or knew him as his father's son—for he came forward attentively and said, "Ah, N'vet Farris, good evening. I can have a table for you in a moment. Will you be meeting someone?"
Rimon was unused to that title of respect, normally reserved for people who wielded power. His father was N'vet Farris; he was just Rimon. "No, I'm not meeting anyone," he replied.
The man extended one handling tentacle, courteously indicating the heavy door to their right. "Then if you would like to place your Gen in the holding room…"
"She will eat with me," said Rimon.
The waiter registered shock, but then, perhaps at the thought that Farrises were eccentric but good tippers, bland concession. He led Rimon and Kadi to a table far at the back, almost under the stairs. No one in the room, however, could miss Kadi's presence.
Rimon felt her embarrassment as they crossed the room—but at the table, she settled down to look around curiously. Remembering that she had never been in such a place before, he felt pleased to be able to bring her here.
As they examined the menu, Rimon pondered. What was it that made him so instantly recognizable as a Farris? His cousin, Lenara, had made many trips here with his father, before Rimon changed over and began working, too. Once the three of them had brought in the largest shipment of prime stock ever seen in the city and gone away—people averred—having cleaned out every bank in town. The next year, people had breathed exaggerated sighs of relief when only two Farrises had shown up, saying, "This town can stand up to two Farrises, but not three!" Did people still remember that? It had been over five years ago—just after Zeth died, Lenara died. He hadn't thought of Lenara in years. Now he wondered why she'd died. Vaguely, he remembered something about a man—had she been pregnant?
Farris women die in childbirth, too? But Kadi has survived giving me a son. Dad ought to know—someday—he has a grandson by a living woman.
"Why are you looking at me like that, Rimon? I don't know what half these things are. You'll have to order," Kadi said.
"Your order, N'vet Farris?" said the waiter, hovering.
Rimon pulled himself together, sca
"Someday," he said to Kadi softly, "they'll have menus with Sime and Gen foods listed separately."
"Someday," said Kadi when their order arrived, "they'll learn to double the portions of Gens."
"You can have most of mine," said Rimon. "I just wanted to taste some of my favorites."
"Oh, Rimon! I should have thought—what a waste coming to such an expensive place when you can't enjoy it."
"I'm enjoying it, Kadi. I'm enjoying your enjoying it."
He meant that sincerely. The last time he'd been here, it had meant nothing to him. Now, everything leaped at him with fresh sparkle, as if he were seeing it for the first time. But he was also enjoying forcing others to accept him and Kadi as a couple, and feeling pleased it was so easy. Of course, no one knew their true relationship—But it will come out. The name will identify me—no use ever trying to deny I'm a Farris. His father would come into town soon. Would anyone mention Rimon's strange Gen to him?
They left the restaurant at twilight, as the nearby establishments were just opening for the evening's entertainment.
But the street of shut-up shops that they had traversed earlier was now brightly lit, doors open, shiltpron music wafting out to them on the odor of stale porstan. Barkers shouted the delights to be had inside some places.
"A kill like no kill you've had before!"
"Yer ma would never let you torture 'em? Come in here and try our techniques!"
"Wild Gens ru
"Hey, friend!" A hand and tentacles wrapped around Rimon's upper arm. "You wa
"No thank you," Rimon said, trying to pull away.
"Come on, friend—I'll give you my choicest kill. That one shouldn't be wasted on a single kill—zlin that nager! Whip her a little, and send up the whole she
Rimon turned on him, grasping the arm that had stopped him. "This lady is not for sale! She happens to be my wife!" The man fell back in astonishment, allowing Rimon to stride away, Kadi sheltered in the crook of his arm, their fields blending solidly for the onlookers. Behind them, horror and revulsion quickly gave way to disbelief. One faint voice raised in laughter triggered a rising tide of forced mirth. "A fair-clown out of costume!" yelled one, and as he and Kadi moved out of earshot, Rimon realized it wasn't going to be as easy as he thought.
At the very next place along the street the barker was shouting, "Wild Gens! Prime Farris stock! Come in for the kill, the thrill of a lifetime!"
Trapped in a nightmare, Rimon steered Kadi into the next side street, not knowing where he was going except away from that street of perverse appetites. There was no lighting; he had to guide Kadi along, zli
"I'm sorry!" he said. "I didn't remember it that way! But it was—I used to think it was fun to come here! I used to be just like them!"
"No you weren't, Rimon," she reassured him. "You were never cruel. You never went into one of those places, did you?"
"No—never! Drunk on porstan and shiltpron, yes—but that—" he shuddered. But was it because I didn't want to—or that I simply couldn't face the memory of killing Zeth in First Need?
"You see? You were never like them. And now you're even more different."
He straightened. "And I'm glad! Kadi, I've been worried about what I've become—I thought it was u
The next morning, they made their way to the Territory Land Office. Though it was early in the morning, the crowds were already thick. Everybody who had business in the Capital waited until Summer Fair, making the trip an excuse for a vacation. The plaza in the center of the government complex was almost impassable, a cluster of people at the center creating an obstacle in the flow of traffic.
Clinging to Kadi's hand, Rimon was swept inevitably toward that center point—a nageric sore that gave him a headache even from a distance. Everyone seemed to want at least a glimpse of—oh no! Through the throbbing miasma of fields, Rimon finally discerned what it was they were all gloating over: a Sime criminal, caged, exposed to die of attrition. The man was in torment, and other Simes were gathered around, drinking in his pain.
"Serves 'im right."
"Oughta deal with all Raiders that way—that'd teach 'em to raid the Pens in a bad winter!"
"Zorg, let's bring the kids to see—learn respect for the law."
Rimon dragged Kadi away, hoping she didn't realize what was happening. They practically ran up the steps of the Land Office, to find a long line of deed claimants. An hour later, they were ushered into one of the cubicles, where a bored clerk asked, "Name?"