Denner_s Wreck

Bredon could not bring himself to contribute much to the conversation. He was worried, about himself and about Lady Sunlight and about what Thaddeus would do. Furthermore, despite his new insights into the workings of Terran technology, he was still somewhat awed by the realization that he was dining with three of the Powers-the Powers, about whom he had heard since infancy, beings just a step below gods.

He knew now that they were only human, but the aura the stories bestowed still lingered, reinforced by the otherworldly beauty of the Skyler's domain, and he felt it would not be respectful to speak openly in such company, as if he were their equal.

He was hardly in the mood for light chatter, in any case. As if his other worries weren't enough, his high-speed education had not covered details such as Terran table ma

The Skyler met one of his surreptitious glances in her direction and glared back with such ferocity that Bredon thereafter studiously avoided looking at her, instead watching Geste and Imp.

Even before he caught her eye, the Skyler was moody and belligerent, and Bredon guessed that she resented the presence of so many people-one of them a stranger-aboard her private retreat. She devoted most of her energy to devouring her food, rather than to conversation. She chewed away defiantly.

Imp, clad in a red-orange bodysuit, seemed far more radiantly beautiful in person than she had in holographic transmission. Still distraught over Aulden's disappearance, she said nothing, except to reply as briefly as possible to Geste's occasional questions. She ate little, picking at her food. When he looked at her, Bredon found himself thinking of Lady Sunlight; not only did he sympathize with Imp's situation, her concern about a loved one held captive, but her beauty reminded him of Lady Sunlight. She was short and red-headed, with a heart-shaped face and worried expression, where Lady Sunlight was tall, thin, blonde, and aloof, but both were extremely attractive women, and Bredon took an instinctive interest in Imp that had him involuntarily comparing the two in the back of his mind. Even when he had to resort to sheer imagination-he had never spoken to Lady Sunlight, had seen her only briefly in real life, and then again briefly in recordings at Arcade-Lady Sunlight won out in these comparisons, and that brought home to him again just how much he wanted her.

Imp knew nothing of this, did not notice Bredon's attention. She stared unseeing at her plate and occasionally put something in her mouth, where she would gnaw on it interminably before finally swallowing and picking something else.

Geste, for his part, did his best to keep up a lively conversation even while wolfing down his meal, but it quickly developed into a monologue. He accepted this, and began telling long, complicated jokes, most of which made little sense to Bredon.

The Skyland and the other various non-human intelligences said nothing beyond polite inquiries about the service, which was handled by several dozen tiny disk-shaped blue floaters that extruded arms and hands as needed. These disks were constantly buzzing and fluttering about, removing used tableware and replacing it with fresh, carrying food back and forth, refilling drinks through a bent-space siphon, and so forth.

Nobody, not even Bredon after the first few minutes, paid any attention to the peacocks, or the music, or the lawn that moved in graceful patterns without wind, or the lights drifting above them, or any of the other wonders that made up the decor.

Despite his nervousness, Bredon ate until he could eat no more, stuffing himself shamelessly on the mysterious and savory foods that were presented to him. When he had finished he glanced around, and was astonished to see the three immortals still eating. Imp was still only nibbling, but Geste and the Skyler were clearly consuming even more than Bredon had.

A moment's thought provided him with a provisional explanation of how a woman and a small man could each eat more than a large, hungry young man. These people had their internal machinery to power. Each one carried at least one symbiotic organism in his or her blood; each presumably had a skull-liner drawing energy.

An old story about one of Geste's pranks came to mind, one Bredon had heard only once, as a very young child. The Trickster had gotten himself invited to dine in the hut of a poor family of outcasts, and had eaten their entire winter store. Unable to refuse a Power, the household had grown steadily more worried as they politely offered meal after meal and watched Geste consume them all without hesitation, leaving the family with less and less for the coming cold.

Finally, one of the children, seeing the last of his mother's sugar cookies disappearing, had begged Geste to stop. Geste had just smiled and eaten the cookie.

With the polite facade cracked by the child's action, the family broke down and begged the Trickster to stop eating, but he had kept on devouring everything in sight.

Bredon could not remember whether, as Atheron told it, Geste burst out laughing first, or the family ran out of food first, but in any case, they had run out of food, and Geste had laughed, and while the parents were still polite and respectful the children had grown resentful and chastised Geste, which had only made him laugh harder.

Beyond that the details were fuzzy in Bredon's memory, but he knew the story had a happy ending, that Geste had given the family an endless supply of wonderful new foods that made them all wealthy. Atheron had meant the story to teach the value of hospitality, he supposed, but Bredon had never really believed the story to be true.

Watching the immortals eat, though, he began to wonder.

It occurred to him that the story certainly could be true. Even a Power couldn't actually eat an entire winter store, but he could make it vanish, into invisibility or into a bent-space receptacle of some sort, and the whole incident, as Atheron had described it, fit Geste's slightly cruel sense of humor.

He sat, politely quiet, as the others continued their meal, Imp and the Skyler in sullen silence, Geste still babbling on with an endless anecdote about an intelligence designed for piloting a starship that had accidentally been installed in a floor-cleaner.

Imp eventually abandoned any pretext of eating, and even the Skyler and Geste stopped doing more than nibbling. The flying disks stopped bringing new foods, and devoted themselves to removing the old and cleaning away every crumb or drip that remained.

Finally, as the eastern sky began to fade from black to blue with the approach of secondlight dawn, the disks brought tall, thin, strangely-shaped glasses of something that sparkled blue. Geste ended his current tale abruptly, and turned toward the approaching service machines in time to accept his glass before it could reach the tablecloth.

The women were less hurried, and allowed the drinks to be set down before they picked them up.

“What is it?” Bredon asked, as he lifted his glass with the others.

The Skyler threw him a resentful glance and snapped, “This, barbarian, is an after-di

“Thank you, lady,” Bredon said. He sipped from his glass.

The stuff was sweet and sharp and strongly alcoholic, which Bredon had not expected; he stopped before more than a trace had passed his lips, to avoid any risk of an unbecoming splutter. The people of his own village ended their meals with sweets, but never with alcohol. Their potent corn liquor was reserved for celebrations or as relief from long drudgery, and while this elaborate meal had certainly not been a celebration, Bredon had not considered it drudgery, either.