12
More Family Visits
Su’s mum had actually pwlded her a recorder-blob in which she’d asked her to go and see her half-brother Rh’aiiy’hn on Novatroonia—which was apparently the point of the blob, though most of it was about the garden—so Su thought they’d better go. BrTl wasn’t too sure about it: he was due back on duty on Booj’lly: Vt R’aam Thirty-Two’s confinement to quarters wouldn’t last forever, and nor would his relative good behaviour: the ex-clone hadn’t done anything more drastic during the time Su had been on New Qrbgg than be caught after lights-out in a female cadet’s room without his pants. In the case of many species this would only have incurred one demerit point but for such sexual beings as humanoids, Nblyterians, Meankers, Friyrians, and a few more, it was five. Conduct unbecoming—quite. BrTl had assured Su there was nothing in it, beings in his year at the Academy had done it all the time, but she’d had more of those hysterics.
“There’s a ferry,” ascertained Su after some time with her head in the Encyclopaedia. “I’ll be perfectly safe!”
Very possibly she would be. Not in the spaceport, however.
“Rh’aiiy’hn can send a being to meet me,” she said, scowling horribly.
Well, possibly. It had better be a sim-call, so he put one in to the being.
Oh, yes! Of course! That being! But the hair definitely hadn’t been white, it had been…
“Auburn,” said Rh’aiiy’hn, smiling very much. “How lovely to see you again, BrTl!”
“You, too, sir. Still got those nice beings with the four legs?”
“Uh— Oh! My horses! No, I left them behind on Old Rthfrdia. How are you?”
After mutual assurances that they were very well—this wasn’t true, BrTl could see that in spite of the being’s claims, there was something wrong with his heart—Su was introduced to her full half-brother.
Of course Mum had warned her that he wasn’t young, but… He looked older than Dad, acksherly. His face was thinner, and rather lined, though he was still a very handsome being. That apart, he was very, very like Dad. “Hullo, Rh’aiiy’hn,” said Su in a small voice.
“Hullo, Su,” smiled the elderly male humanoid. “I’m so glad to meet you at last! You’ve got quite a look of your mother—the nose and the shape of the eyes—don’t you think, BrTl?”
“Yes. Internally, too,” he agreed.
“That’s quite right,” said Rh’aiiy’hn nicely. –It was now apparent to Su that he was, as her mother had tried to explain, a really nice being, and completely incapable of the sort of sarcasm that Dad went in for. Many humanoids would have said something scathing to BrTl about humanoid genetics, or at least emanated it, but he wasn’t emanating a thing except pleasure at seeing them both. “I hope this means you’re going to come and see me, Su?”
“Um, yes,” said Su in a small voice. “I could come now—if it’s convenient?”
Of course it was convenient—he was retired, now—and if BrTl thought she would be safe on the ferry, of course she must take it—Su blinked—and naturally he’d meet her himself at the spaceport.
In the end there was a youngish Br-cognate who was going that way, so he accompanied Su and Phyoowella as far as Novatroonia, where Rh’aiiy’hn had settled. The Encyclopaedia had told Su that the surface of the planet was ninety percent ocean but she hadn't realised the implications of this. It was full daylight when they arrived, and BrKl had disclaimed all interest in the window seat, so she got a really good view.
“Look!” she gasped. “It’s all water!”
“Yes. Blue,” agreed the Br-cognate without enthusiasm.
“But where are we going to land?” gasped Su.
“There’s a big spaceport,” he said kindly. “Um… floating, think that’s the word. Sitting on the water? Yes,” he said, as she nodded numbly. “Floating.”
“Suh-so it’s a wuh-water-world?” she gulped.
“No, definitely not. Didn’t you look it up in the Encyclopaedia?” said BrKl in mild surprise.
Su went very pink. BrKl wasn’t a Space Fleet officer like BrTl, acksherly he was a grpplybeast butcher’s apprentice, and she hadn’t expected a being whose job entailed stunning grpplybeasts with a blob and dragging them into the processing shed so that his boss could humanely kill them with another blob (there was an IG Reg about the sort of blob the butcher had to use) to automatically assume a being’d look up the Intergalactic Encyclopaedia. “Yes, ’course I did! Um, it said, um, ninety percent of the surface was ocean.”
“Sure,” he agreed mildly. “They live on the other ten percent or on floating things. If it was a water-world we’d be landing in the ocean. I mean, the spaceport’d be in it,” he explained.
“I see,” said Su limply. She peered out of the port… Nothing but water. Still nothing but water. Still nothing but— Oh, no, here it was! Help, it looked awfully small!
“Standard size, this is a Federation world,” said BrKl kindly. “Think the inhabitants are mostly, um…” He looked at her dubiously. “What are you, again, BrSu?”
Su went very pink again. “I’m not really a Br-cognate, only a—a sort of honorary one!” she gasped. “The—the immature cognates couldn’t understand, so—so BrDv said I’d better be BrSu.”
“I can see that,” he agreed mildly.
“Um, I’m a humanoid,” said Su, licking her lips nervously.
“Oh, right! Think the Novatroonians are the same. No tail, eh?”
“No,” she agreed.
“That’s right, then. –It must be awkward: even grpplybeasts have got tails! Oh, well, it takes all sorts to make a Known Universe,” decided the Br-cognate comfortably. “But I’m glad I’m a Br-cognate!”
They all were, Su knew that. “Yeah,” she agreed, smiling at him.
“Do you know what this cognate of yours looks like?” he asked.
“Yes, BrTl and me made a sim-call to him.”
“Good. Well, I’ll make sure he meets you. Dare say they won’t make me pay IG C&E transit charges, and if they do, the cognates’ll pay.”
Su was now feeling very, very nervous. “Thanks awfully, BrKl.”
“That’s okay. Does the cognate eat meat?”
“Um, I think so. Well, most humanoids do.”
“Good! You’ll be all right, then!” he said bracingly.
Acksherly Su rather felt, after an unadulterated xathpyroid diet, because she couldn’t digest grass, like Phyoowella, that she never wanted to eat meat again, but she just smiled and nodded.
There were lots and lots of beings getting off the ferry and by the time Su and BrKl got to IG C&E she was feeling awfully nervous. Not just about Intergalactic Customs and Excise. There were two beings in what she now knew was IG C&E uniform, it was different from the Space Patrol and IG Militia uniforms, which were white, with different coloured trims. IG C&E beings wore plain dark green, in fact much plainer than any of the Space Service uniforms: they didn’t have lots of pockets or like that. And definitely not Space Issue boots, but then they wouldn’t need to, would they? The ones that had, like, chests wore a little round logo on the chest with “IG C&E” in curly writing inside a little circle, and the same logo only smaller appeared upon the stiff collars of the ones that had necks, these two both did. The uniforms didn’t have shoulder flaps at all, so how did you know what their rank was? According to BrTl they did have ranks. She didn’t recognise what the two beings were: one of them was a quadruped and the other had two legs but it definitely wasn’t any of the bipedal beings Su had met so far. Um, though it was a bit like that being at the uncloning hearing that Vt R’aam Thirty-Two had called “judge”—only she wasn’t gonna think about that, or him, because he was disgusting.
“Um, hullo,” she said shrinkingly, as neither being spoke nor moved.
“Anything to declare, humanoi— Hang on! Third Galaxy?” said the bipedal one.
“Can’t be,” said the quadruped.
“Yeah, look at the dokko.”
The two of them stared hard at Su.
“She is from the Third Galaxy,” said BrKl mildly.
“Yeah, right, and her name’s BrSu!” scoffed the biped.
“Nope, we just call her that when she’s grazing with the cognates,” he said mildly. “This here blue being, it’s a pet, it’s from the Third Galaxy, too.”
The officials looked hard at Phyoowella and conferred in lowered voices. Su didn’t dare to speak or think. BrKl emanated unconcern.
Finally the quadruped said: “You got an on-world permit for this Third Galaxy pet, humanoid?”
Help! Su didn’t even know what an on-world permit was!
“Yeah,” said BrKl mildly just as she was really starting to panic. “In the dokko.”
The officials conferred again but it must have been okay, because they didn’t say anything more about Phyoowella, just looked hard at BrKl, and then the four-legged one said: “You’ll be going on-world for a lovely holiday on one of the holiday archipelagos, will ya, xathpyroid?”
“Nope,” said BrKl stolidly. “Just seeing BrSu meets her cognate okay.”
Ooh, help, he’d called her BrSu, they’d think he’d done it on purpose!
“He did do it on purpose,” noted the mauve-skinned bipedal being. “That’ll be 25 igs in IG C&E transit charges, thanks, xathpyroid.”
Sighing, BrKl outed with a blob and transferred the credits.
“Um, sorry,” muttered Su agonisedly.
“Can’t be helped. Come on.”
The officials didn’t say anything, so— Ooh, no, it was different! It wasn’t the gate next, but Novatroonia Customs! By this time Su was expecting anything at all, so she looked up shrinkingly at the two tall, good-looking humanoids in really lovely blue uniforms trimmed with turquoise and a little lime green, but the lady just said: “Visiting relatives, is it? Go through,” and that was it: once BrKl had got the inside of his wrist lumo-stamped “EXEMPT” by the man, they went straight through the IG C&E gate!
There were lots and lots of beings out in the concourse—though it wasn’t as big as the concourse at the New Qrbgg spaceport, by any means—and Su’s eyes went all fuzzy as she looked for Rh’aiiy’hn, but before she could panic, there he was, smiling like anything and saying: “Hullo, Su!”
After that they just went out to the lifter parking lot, the one for private lifters, Rh’aiiy’hn had brought his—oops, it wasn’t a lot, nothing like the one on New Qrbgg with the lifters just sitting around on the grass, but a big slot-tower with zillions of lift-blobs going up and down it and you had to go up and up and up to get to your slot. BrKl came with them, carrying her luggage, that BrTl had fetched from the M planet when he’d nipped over to deliver Lieutenant H’msm’s relatives. Not that it was really heavy, but as BrKl said, they’d made him pay IG C&E transit charges to come on-world, so he might as well. And at the slot Su thanked him very much and said goodbye, and watched sadly as the lift-blob bore him away. There hadn’t been any other xathpyroids at all in the crowded complex.
“There’s too much water here to appeal to xathpyroids,” said Rh’aiiy’hn mildly.
“Yes!” she gasped.
“I’m sure you’ll see BrTl again soon,” he said kindly.
No, she wouldn’t, because he’d gone back to Booj’lly, to waste his time keeping an eye on him. Su scowled and said nothing, though really, why she was bothering she didn’t know: it was obvious Rh’aiiy’hn was picking up her every half-formed thought.
“Yes,” he agreed mildly. “I’m sorry, I do know it’s bad IG manners, but when I was Personal/Group Being Rights Commissioner I found I really needed to look. It’s become so ingrained that I can’t not look.”
“Yeah,” said Su glumly. “It’s okay, the rest of the family do it, too.
Rh’aiiy’hn asked nicely how they were, so even though she was pretty sure he was just as up-to-date as she was—Mum kept in regular touch with him—Su told him. Though not neglecting to gape out of the port at the vast expanses of blue water they were flying over.
“That’s The Circle,” said Rh’aiiy’hn after quite some time.
“Um, what?” she fumbled.
“That large ring of land. It’s actually the edge of a crater formed by a giant meteorite that struck the planet when it was barely formed. The interior is a freshwater lake.”
Su had thought it was just more of the ocean; she goggled.
“The Circle is considered the residential area of choice on Novatroonia—well, areas, there are gradations of choice, you understand!” he said with a laugh.
“Um, are there? Oh, hang on, I geddit: like on Whtyll: all the beings R’shn introduced me to were up-market, but some were more up-market than others—like that?”
“Precisely like that!”
“So where do you live?” asked Su, peering. They were very high up, and could see almost the entire circumference of the enormous lake. The Circle, that was, the land itself, wasn’t very wide, but in parts it was certainly wide enough to include hills and small towns—smallish, they were about the size of New Z’therabad.
“Quite elsewhere!” said Rh’aiiy’hn with another of his pleasant laughs.
Su smiled slowly. That figured. Unlike all the members of the extended Vt R’aam family she had met so far in the two galaxies, Rh’aiiy’hn was not dressed in humungously expensive (and ridiculous) lordship-type garments. No, he was wearing an overall that wasn't all that much different from BrTl’s Durocloth coveralls, except that it didn’t have sleeves and wasn’t Durocloth, but some faded coarse, woven material in a blue-grey shade. Some being that wasn’t much good with blobs had done them patches on the knees, that was for sure. The pale pink shirt underneath it had probably once been real smart until some being had removed its high collar and passed it through a blobbed-out recycler fifty megazillion times. Acksherly, quite possibly it had started off as bright pink—or even red! Rh’aiiy’hn was wearing the sleeves rolled up and it was obvious he usually did, because the rolled-up bits were all ragged and fringy!
He turned his head, twinkling at her. “I’ve got a Flppu who looks after my clothes—Fl’Major-Domo is its name.”
Su gulped.
“Its own choice,” explained her half-brother, twinkling very much.
“Yes!” she gasped. “Is it a blue one?”
“No—goodness, so Jhl’s still got that blue one? No, lime-green. They do come in all shades of green, but lime is quite unusual. It was given to me initially as what its then owner imagined was a bribe.”
Su goggled at him. Mum had once told her that Rh’aiiy’hn was the soul of probity.
“I accepted the Flppu,” said Rh’aiiy’hn tranquilly, “because I could see that the poor little creature was very unhappy with the being. But naturally I didn’t do what the owner wished.”
“No. Good on ya,” she croaked.
“I took its bracelet off, of course, and as its owner hadn’t given it a name, I asked it what it would like to be called.”
“I see!” she beamed. “Like Fl’Jfaffl when it came on board Mum’s ship!”
“Mm,” he agreed, smiling at her. “She’s still got it, too, has she?”
“Yeah, sure. –Hey, it’s still got that silver chain and little silver purse you gave it!” she revealed, beaming.
Rh’aiiy’hn swallowed. “I’m glad,” he said with difficulty. “Poor little thing.”
“It’s been real happy with Mum,” said Su cautiously.
“Yes, of course. Well, I’m glad you understand about Flppus, Su.”
“Sure! Phyoowella isn’t too B,R,I,G,H,T, neither.”
His slanted blue eyes twinkled a little. “No. Now, I’d better explain about my household.”
“Um, yeah?”
“There are four of us of Class 390 or above,” said the former Personal/Group Being Rights Commissioner of the Federated Worlds of the Two Galaxies tranquilly. “Two females, plus myself and Fl’Major-Domo.”
Su nodded, looking at him expectantly.
“I have mentioned Asha to Jhl.”
“Sure, your girlfriend!” agreed Su happily.
“Yes. I didn't explain further, because I didn’t think Father would understand.”
She looked at him uncertainly. “Dad’s real broadminded.”
“Ah—yes. The thing is, she isn’t wholly humanoid.”
“Gee, I wouldn’t worry about that, Rh’aiiy’hn! We got quite a few friymanoids or part-friymanoids on New Whtyll.”
“I know, but Asha isn’t part Friyrian. Do you understand the term ‘bio-engineered’?”
“Um, like what G’gg does when he cultures up new fruit or that? Like with them blobs Trff cultures up for him?”
“Very like that. It can be done with beings, too. No, not cloning, Su. The demotic—that is, the popularly-used term for the process, is ‘tweaking’.” He swallowed.
“Oh, yeah, sure, BrTl’s mentioned that! Like, when he was stuck on the third moon of Pkqwrd one time, he met a being that was part humanoid, part New Rthfrdian le—” Su broke off, gulping. “Lemur,” she finished in a small voice.
“Yes. There are many millions of similar beings in the two galaxies; in fact there is an industry based around the process, and several worlds devoted to it. Provided one can afford it, one may order a bio-engineered being to suit. They don’t always combine the DNA of more than two species, but often enough,” he finished heavily.
“Mm,” agreed Su, glancing at him cautiously.
Rh’aiiy’hn sighed. “Asha is chiefly humanoid with the addition of considerable Norton DNA, and some Kinntrooer characteristics. She is female, but like many bio-engineered beings cannot reproduce without considerable genetic manipulation. You have met two Nortons, Su, though I can see you didn’t know that that was what they were. The bipedal IG C&E being at the spaceport was a Norton: they can be male, female or neuter, and judging by your mind-picture of him, that was a male. They are very like humanoids in appearance but the males have no facial hair. He was one of the paler Nortons: their skin colour ranges from a cream with just a touch of lilac in it through to a deep purple. The being whom Vt R’aam Thirty-Two addressed as ‘Judge’ at his uncloning hearing was a neuter Norton—a darker one.”
“So are the neuter ones all dark?” asked Su uncertainly.
“No, their skin colour is not gender-specific. Asha has some DNA from a very dark Norton: a deep purple, almost black.”
“Acksherly, that sounds very attractive,” offered Su.
“Yes, the dark Nortons are generally considered very handsome beings.”
“I’m absolutely sure Dad wouldn’t mind,” she said kindly.
“No,” said her half-brother with a little sigh. “No, I don’t think he would. But I think he would mind the Kinntrooer DNA: Kinntrooers are insectoid beings, with considerable mind-powers. Look, I’ll show you a full Kinntrooer—a female.”
Su swallowed as his picture of a smartly-dressed Kinntrooer lady wearing a dress with two skirts, one above the other, appeared in her head. Like, the lady had two waists. She had two legs, but four arms, and a shallow, very wide face with two enormous slanted eyes. And all of her skin that was visible was covered in a very, very fine black fur.
“This is Asha,” said Rh’aiiy’hn.
Su swallowed again. Asha looked humanoid: that was, she didn’t have a Kinntrooer face at all, and she had two legs and arms; but her skin was certainly deep purple, and it was covered in short, fine, deep purple fur.
“We think she’s beautiful,” said Rh’aiiy’hn firmly.
“Yes!” she gasped. “She is! Look, Phyoowella—can you show her? Look, Phyoowella: pretty! Furry!”
Phyoowella roused from a half-doze. “[Subjectless particle], [verbless particle] furry furry,” she approved.
“Didja get that? Like, when she says ‘furry furry’, she means ‘very furry’. Only what that really means,” explained Su, “is pretty! See, two furry’s make pretty, in Loogher!”
“I see. I did pick up ‘furry furry’, yes. Very interesting,” he smiled. “Yes, Phyoowella, you’re right: furry furry!”
“I gotta tell her,” said Su. “Like, send it in Loogher.”
“Mm, I see. –Well, that’s Asha. She’s really looking forward to meeting you, Su, in fact she started preparing today’s dinner for you yesterday, so I hope you’re hungry!” he said with a laugh.
“Um, yeah. Acksherly, I don’t feel motion-sick at all,” discovered Su dazedly.
“No, I fixed it for you,” he murmured.
“Gee, thanks, Rh’aiiy’hn!” she gasped. “Mum did tell me once that you were almost as good as a Full Surgeon.”
“Not nearly that good, I’m afraid. I can fix that sort of thing, but only on a temporary basis.”
“Right, like if I took a chemo-blob for this trip.”
“Yes.”
Su looked hopefully out of the port but it was all water. “So, who’s the fourth being?”
“Mallatrinnallee. She—I suppose you could say she’s Asha’s adopted daughter.”
“Gee, ya could’ve told us that, Rh’aiiy’hn!”
“Not really. Father has… I suppose you could say, an inflated idea of my consequence.”
“He did go on a bit about you once being a prince,” said Su cautiously.
“Yes. Mother was a princess, and for quite some years I was Regent of Old Rthfrdia. A very long time ago,” he said, smiling gently at her.
“Yeah. So what would Dad think was wrong with Mallatrinnallee?” asked Su resignedly.
Rh’aiiy’hn could see the word “mermaid” wasn't in her vocabulary—no, well, that myth was neither Bluellian nor Whtyllian, come to think of it. He gave up trying to explain and just sent her a picture. After quite some time his little sister said: “I get it. Like, she’s not just a gilled humanoid, she’s got a tail.”
“Yes. It’s fish DNA. She can breathe both air and water, but she lives in the water.”
“Yeah. You’re right, Dad wouldn’t approve—like, he wouldn’t mind her as a being”—the more so as she was very, very pretty: a pale skin with a hint of blue in it, and a mass of tumbled curls, mixed shades of pale green and pale blue—“but he would mind her being part of your family.”
Rh’aiiy’hn patted her knee briefly. “Exactly.”
“Can she come on land?” asked Su hopefully.
“Yes, she likes sitting on the sand or on the steps of our jetty, and we quite often bring her inside. She’ll be there for dinner,” he said, smiling at her.
“Good!” said Su happily.
Rh’aiiy’hn smiled. “Yes, good,” he murmured.
Off! sent Jhl.
It was now very clear why Su had sent them an actual recorder-blob from Novatroonia. After some time Athlor said: “That was colourful.”
Jhl gave him an evil look. “It’s a very beautiful world.”
Abruptly Athlor broke down in an awful spluttering fit. Though admitting when he was at the mopping-the-eyes stage: “I suppose it wouldn’t strike someone with a houseful of Looghers and Flppus as worthy of remark, no. Not to mention that Azabanese of yours: has he got anything between those internal ears?”
“Shut up. At least Rh’aiiy’hn seems to be happy.”
“Yeah,” he agreed kindly. “Just as well Dad didn’t appoint him to take over for him on Whtyll, he’d have loathed every minute of it.”
“Exactly. And he's keeping busy: at least he’s not bored.”
No, he’d be much too busy to be bored: Su’s blob had shown very clearly that his funny little house had streams of visitors, mostly in search of free medical aid or free legal advice, or bringing him fresh or dried fish as thank-yous for the medical aid or legal advice. Given that the population of Novatroonia was officially humanoid most of these had been humanoid, but during the period of Su’s recording they’d also seen a Meanker fisherwoman with a broken arm, an Azabanese grocer with a twisted knee, and two pet Flppus with stomach aches in the charge of three immature friymanoids, also with stomach aches. Plus three dolphins with stomach aches: friends, or such was the claim, of Mallatrinnallee’s .
The house itself seemed to be made out of bits and pieces of everything you could think of—there were rocks, and a few bits of wood, though with the lack of land that was a scarce commodity on Novatroonia—and definitely some lubolyon sheeting, and bits of at least two blobbed-out bubble-boats. Many of Rh’aiiy’hn’s neighbours lived on what were locally termed houseboats: blobbed-out bubble-boats linked together with bits and pieces of this, that, and anything you could imagine. Most of the locals earned their living fishing, though as most people fished on Novatroonia, it didn’t produce much of an income. The little settlement was so small that it didn’t even have a public bubble-train stop. And of course the locals couldn’t afford lifters, or even bubbles.
Athlor’s slanted blue eyes twinkled so that for a moment his resemblance to Rh’aiiy’hn was very pronounced. “Don’t think Su realised just how much time the average resident of Novatroonia spends in a bubble-boat.”
“No, well, at least Rh’aiiy’hn can fix the motion-sickness. And Mallatrinnallee’s actually worked the miracle of teaching her to swim!”
“I'd call Su’s version staying alive in the water, rather than actual swimming,” he drawled, “but you’re right: a miracle it is. –Asha’s extraordinary, isn’t she?”
Jhl; gave him a suspicious look.
“I meant nothing by it,” said Athlor mildly.
“Uh—nor ya did. Well, good on ya.”
“Um, did you gather how Rh’aiiy’hn actually came by Asha and Mallatrinnallee?” he asked cautiously.
Jhl cleared her throat. “No, but my guess’d be either rescued from some undesirable owner like the Flppu, or, uh, wished on him as an ostensible thank you for some favour. Or failing that, simply dumped on him.”
“Yeah. Plasmo-blasted hard to believe he’s Dad’s son, isn’t it?”
“He has got his brains,” offered Shank’yar’s bond-partner mildly.
“Something like that. –Do you think,” he said dreamily, “that Su’s worn a single one of those up-market garments the Whtyllian lot forced on her since she got there?”
“No, and good on her!” said Jhl forcefully.
Athlor went into another spluttering fit, but Jhl could see that it had actually sunk in that the sort of life the former Regent of Old Rthfrdia was living was a far more human one, never mind the DNA of his odd household, than anything the plasmo-blasted Whtyllian side went in for, so she didn’t comment, merely called in her own household to watch Su’s recorder-blob. She completely ignored Athlor’s startled emanations of Dad won’t like that! If Shank’yar didn’t like his cook and his gardeners knowing his eldest son was living with an extremely beautiful purple-furred female, he could choke on it.
“Hullo, Jhl,” cooed the apricot-haired female in the sim-image coyly. “Remember me?”
Jhl choked on a bite of ffjjii. No! It couldn’t be! Though the garments were extreme enough— Blob OFF!
“Ooh, who was it, Great Mistress?” asked Fl’Oo-Ooueroii excitedly.
“Someone I never dreamed I’d see again—I think. Just pass me that covering text-blob, wouldja, Fl’Oo-Ooueroii?
Obediently the blue Flppu passed her the text-blob.
Nope: all it said was what Jhl had thought: “Forwarded from the residence of Warraf vr Schwimvestarfhallenflorgenand.” Some Nblyterian names ended in –anD but not –and, and they never started with capital letters. It looked almost like a Whtyllian name… Jhl looked sideways at the blue one. Back in its early days it had belonged to the Vt R’aam family and had done a lot of diplo-associated stuff. Well, delivering blobs containing invitations to silly parties rather than call the beings up, that sort of space garbage. Uh—well, no harm in asking.
“Fl’Oo-Ooueroii, would the name vr Schwimvestarfhallenflorgenand be a Whtyllian name?”
“Oh, no, madam! Not with a ‘vr’ in it! A ‘Nr’ or a ‘Vt’ would be Whtyllian, madam!”
Right. Pity it couldn’t read. “Schwimvestarfhallenflorgenand?”
“Definitely not, madam!”
“No, right. Warraf vr Schwimvestarfhallenflorgenand,” muttered Jhl to herself.
“Ooh!” squeaked the Flppu. “A Warraf!”
“Huh?”
“One must address the being as ‘Your Gracious Eminence’, madam,” it explained. Possibly on the strength of it, it began dusting odd bits of leaf, twig, etcetera off the legs of her Durocloth coveralls.
“Don’t bother, Fl’Oo-Ooueroii. So ‘Warraf’ is a title, is it?”
“Oh, yes, indeed, madam,” it said, brushing at her shins with two flexible appendages at once. Not in synch—maddening.
“Fl’Oo-Ooueroii,” said Jhl clearly, “pay attention!”
The Flppu stood up straight, as much as one of its physique could, and saluted with one of the aforesaid appendages.
“Er—yeah,” said Jhl on a weak note. “Very good, Fl’Oo-Ooueroii. Now hear this. Is ‘Warraf’ a humanoid title, and if so, from what planet?”
“Humanoid from Greater Knopschtamm’ld,” said the Flppu immediately. “One must address the being as ‘Your Gracious Eminence’ and proceed backwards from the presence. Likewise the Warravaine is addressed as ‘Your Gracious Eminence’ and one proceeds backwards from her presence. Only on diplo occasions, of course!”
This could all be a load of mok shit, mixed memories of this, that and the other diplo junk it had been forced to learn up by, not Shan’s mother in actual Graciously Eminent person, but some unfortunate being deputed to the task. But it sounded horribly likely to Jhl. “Jolly good, Fl’Oo-Ooueroii. You’d better sit down and have a sip of iirouelli’i juice on the strength of it.” Vt R’aam Forty-Nine!
He was there in a flash, emanating disapproval of the juice but intense interest in the blob.
“’Tisn’t from Su or Shan. I’m almost sure,” said Jhl, swallowing in spite of herself, “that it’s from my ex-sister-in-IG-law, Lle’onee’ya.”
She let everyone come and watch, why not? And unless Lle’onee’ya had changed drastically in the intervening period—which the hair, the garment and the coyness had not seemed to indicate—there wouldn’t be anything rude in the blob. Astounding—possibly. Extravagant—almost undoubtedly. Sickening—for sure. But rude? No way. Not even if there was a male humanoid Warraf involved.
“Lle’onee’ya Smt Wong that was,” cooed the apricot-haired female in the sim-image coyly, making a gesture as if to fluff up the unlikely hair, but not actually touching it. Yes, well, that proved she was still using a mini-web, no surprises there. She was burbling on about how she and Wopsy?—Nopsy?—K’Nopsy?—if you say so, Fl’Oo-Ooueroii—were on New Felicity (of course Old Felicity was so run-down, these days) and the villa was really quite comfortable, now that they’d done it up, and blah, blah, blah… Jhl peered. The woman was the same age as she was, for Federation’s sake! Well, every nip, tuck, chemo-blobbing, stimo-blobbing and you-name-it-blobbing that the Known Universe could offer, obviously.
“Huh? Oh—off! She’s my brother J’f’s ex-bond-partner, IG-legally divorced yonks back, okay?” The emanations were almost deafening her so she added: “The face has that shiny, rather stiff appearance because the woman is the same age as I am, and don’t ask what she’s had done!”
There was an awed silence. Not the least because one of the things she’d had done was the addition of a small silver flower on each temple.
Finally First Cook Kadry ventured: “Would a villa be a house, madam?”
“Huh? Oh! Yeah, a fancy house, First Cook.”
“That’s what I thought,” agreed Athlor, “but if that’s the house, what’s this ‘snuggery’ thing that she’s going on about doing up?”
“Uh—dunno,” admitted Jhl. “Think that passed me by.”
On! Go back to the snuggery bit! ordered Athlor.
And blah, blah, blah…
“Off,” said Athlor limply.
The assembled company looked at one another in bewilderment. Finally Vt R’aam Forty-Nine ventured: “Would it be a special sort of room, sir?” (The staff had compromised: they were calling him “sir”. At least in front of Jhl. What they were calling him not in front of her she didn’t know and had no intention of finding out.)
“No, it’s got a garden!” cried the elderly Clone Vt R’aam Seventeen.
“That’s right: with a little pond!” agreed the lorpoid Clone Vt R’aam Twenty-Two approvingly.
Very up-market beings in the two galaxies had been known to construct ponds inside their dwellings before now but on second thoughts Jhl didn’t voice that one.
“Could it be a little guest house?” ventured First Cook Kadry.
“Eh?” said Athlor. “Do you mean a Guest Room, First Cook?”
“No, sir. Back on Whtyll when I was a little girl, my mother and aunties used to oversee the tidy-blobs at one of the big palaces when they needed extra staff, and they had a guest house: it was like a whole little house standing by itself, only in the grounds, you see.”
“Like a hut?” ventured one of the gardeners dubiously.
“No! Like a whole house!” she snapped. “For guests to stay in, see?”
Groggily the company agreed that First Cook Kadry must be right, and that the lady must be talking about a guest house, and went back to the blob…
Gee, Lle’onee’ya hadn’t pwlded Jhl a recorder-blob all the way from the two galaxies to impress her with her villa, her snuggery, her nips, tucks, and silver flowers, her (as yet undefined) relationship to the unseen K’Nopsy, or, indeed, any of it.
“I just happened to see a very interesting item on the New Felicity Intergalactic News Summary,” she cooed, batting the eyelashes frightfully.
Zoom in on the face and pause! ordered Athlor abruptly.
Obligingly the sim-image showed them Lle’onee’ya in horrible close-up. Several beings blenched or recoiled.
“You’re right, she has got tiny gold dots on the end of each upper eyelash, and can we get on, please?” sighed Jhl.
“Gosh,” he said, grinning. “Did she always have those multi-coloured flecks in the eyes?”
Jhl took a deep breath. “The woman is a Bluellian. A Bluellian.”—Everyone was goggling at her own large, dark brown, slightly slanted eyes.—“Exactly. That purplish-blue colour is entirely artificial, and so are all the flecks, gold, silver, or turquoise! And can we get this over with?”
“Double gosh,” Athlor conceded. “On—and zoom back out!” he added hurriedly.
“I just happened to see a very interesting item on the New Felicity Intergalactic News Summary,” cooed Lle’onee’ya. “A delightful reception on Intergalactica—very high-level, of course, Jhl, darling,”—here Athlor swallowed a snigger—“and naturally the name Vt R’aam caught my attention.” Coy smirk. “And there he was: my dear, scarcely changed a jot since the old days of the Fleet Commander uniform and the sim-calls to your parents’ house that so thrilled poor dear M’mri’in! Isn’t he wonderful?”—Several beings were broadcasting NO, but Jhl charitably overlooked that. Well, made a mental note to award medals all round.—“And there was your darling little Su! My dear, she’s got such a look of you! So naturally I said to darling K’Nopsy, ‘K’Nopsy, my dearest, I don’t care what you say, we asserlutely must have dear little Su over, and one will not enquire why J’f never breathed a syllable, though I must say, it’s him all over!’ And of course K’Nopsy agreed at once, but would you believe, even though he used all his titles, that horrid Space Fleet Command wouldn’t give him Shank’yar’s frequency!”
“Gee, must be some good in them after all,” croaked Jhl numbly.
“Yeah. Did she always say ‘asserlutely’?” asked Athlor with kindly interest.
“Uh—dunno. Think it might be new. Well, she was always sickening,” admitted Jhl over her ex-sister-in-IG-law’s tirade about J’f. He always had had all his sim-calls monitored by an s-being, what had the woman expected?
Apparently Lle’onee’ya had been undeterred, and K’Nopsy had got onto the Embassy for her immediately (which embassy, not specified), and they had contacted the Whtyllian Embassy, who had promised to take a message, but it had never reached him, which might have been expected: of course Jhl knew it was impossible to get decent staff these days, and only the week before— And blah, blah, blah.
“One concedes,” said Athlor thoughtfully over the blahing, “that there may be a fraction of good in the Whtyllian Embassy, after all.”
“They weren’t protecting Su, they were protecting him! Oy, blob! Jump to the bit where she tells us if she managed to contact Shank’yar or Su!” ordered Jhl loudly.
The sim-image flickered, and then Lle’onee’ya, smirking horribly and raising a minute and very ornate little nibble to her improbably peach-coloured lips, cooed: “And I will say this for S’zaan, I know she’s never liked me, but it wasn’t me that asked M’mri’in to do up the hangar-loft for us, we’d have been quite happy in the house! But as I say, at least she’s got a sense of fair play, and she said if J’f was having Su there was no reason I shouldn’t, and she didn’t know Shank’yar’s frequency—and I have to say it, Jhl, dear, that does sound typical of him—but she put me onto that darling BrTl! He’s just the same as ever, isn’t he lovely?”—Certain younger and/or naïver beings were nodding happily in agreement with this statement but all the older and saner jaws had dropped.—“And of course he said she wasn't with him at the moment, and he wasn’t quite sure of the frequency, but she was staying with dearest Rh’aiiy’hn on Novatroonia! And of course I’ve had his frequency forever!” The gold-tipped lashes batted frightfully.
“Off,” croaked Jhl. “Did everyone else hear what I thought I heard? She’s got Rh’aiiy’hn’s frequency?”
“Mum, it’s obvious!” protested Athlor with a laugh. “He’d be much too kind-hearted to refuse it.”
“On second thoughts, you’re so right," she groaned. “Oh, well, in that case, that’s all she wrote. –All over bar the shouting,” she elaborated. “But we’ll view the rest of it if you insist.”
They all did, of course.
… “And here she is!” cooed Lle’onee’ya on what seemed to be a different day entirely—well, the setting was different, if just as sickening, and the garment was different, if just as sickening.
And there was Su, looking agonised. “Hullo, Mum,” she croaked, trying to smile. “I’m with Aunty Lle’onee’ya on New Felicity. Dad said it’d be okay.”
“Of course!:” cooed Lle’onee’ya. “Isn’t it lovely, the way she calls me Aunty?”
Huh? Jhl was almost sure she could remember the being ordering R’shn and her cousins not to call her— Oh, forget it. If J’f had descended so far as to perpetuate his kind, the woman’d be a great-grandmother by this time, Instead of lavishing affection and doubtless highly unsuitable nibbles on that furry thing sitting by her chair, what in Federation was it?
“Um, this is the, um, terrace,” croaked Su, waving at the pastel Porvenian marble paving, the fiercely trimmed multi-coloured trees in elaborate marble pots, the series of interlinked different-sized, different-levelled pools with pink, blue and turquoise water splashing from one to the other, changing colour as it did so, the uh, silken awnings? Yep, those’d be silken awnings, all right; the pastel flop couches—outside? Great steaming piles of mok droppings! And the, um, actually those things looked quite useful: huge sun-umbrellas. The mn-mn silk they appeared to be made of wouldn’t be that practical, however. The terrace was also dotted with scantily-clad beings of many different pastel colours holding huge, um, banners?
“Sort of fans, I think, Mum,” murmured Athlor.
The bracelets on their wrists registered. Right, scantily-clad s-beings—mostly male humanoids—waving huge pastel-coloured feather fans mounted on gold sticks. First Cook Kadry was involuntarily broadcasting: Tasteless! and good on the being.
“Off,” ordered Athlor, biting his lip. “Mum, is this really the sort of setting we want Su in?”
“Huh? Oh! Don’t think those male s-beings are for anything but fan waving and possibly a bit of serving up of exotic nibbles: Lle’onee’ya was always into the fashions, but not the other stuff.”
“She might have moved on,” he said grimly.
“Uh—well, what about this Kopsy being? Oh, right, thanks, Fl’Oo-Ooueroii: K’Nopsy. Hang on: is that a Greater Knopschtamm’ld name?”
“Oh, yes, madam!” squeaked the blue Flppu, thrilled to be asked. “A lordship-type name!”
“Yeah. Well, think the situation is she’s latched onto this Greater Knopschtamm’ld K’Nopsy Warraf-type being, Athlor; at her age, she won’t be taking the risk of losing him by playing around with pretty s-beings, with or without feathery fans.”
“Just wait there,” he said grimly, getting up and going into the house.
Jhl whiled away the time by eating a few more ffjjiis and doing her best to answer the spate of questions. Though given it was a megazillion IG years since she’d been in the two galaxies— Well, sure she knew where and what New Felicity was, but did they want its IG co-ordinates? No, they didn’t, though they were too well trained by Guess Who to say so.
Athlor came back, frowning.
“Yeah?”
“The Encyclopaedia’s useless!” he announced bitterly.
Jhl eyed him drily. They were too far from the Federation to actually have the Intergalactic Encyclopaedia. What they had was a Trffified pirate version—though it was true that outside the Vt R’aam household and the engineers’ giant grey hangar on the outskirts of the New Z’therabad spaceport this wasn't generally known. “Something like that. Did it say anything about Greater Knopschtamm’ld?”
He shrugged, and sat down. “It’s a humanoid world. A class system that sounds like plasmo-blasted Whtyll’s, actually. There are fifty-odd areas that are uh, more or less ruled over by these Warraf beings—it’s a title.”
“So Fl’Oo-Ooueroii’s already told me. One addresses the being as ‘Your Gracious Eminence’ and on diplo occasions walks backwards from the presence. –Don’t think she can be his bond-partner, or she’d have announced it first off. Anything else?”
“No. Well, New Felicity is apparently a very expensive pleasure-planet patronised by the wealthier sort of play-being, but I think you can all see that for yourselves. Those villa things seem to be the New Felicity equivalent of that nirvana garden Dad used to have on Playfair Two. And before anyone asks,” he said evilly, “I did not ask it about snuggeries! Blob on!”
Su’s image flashed up again, looking agonised. “It’s lovely and warm here. We’ve been doing a lot of sunbathing and dipping in the pools. Um, they’re blob-driven, see how they sort of float? That’s all done with blobs. Um, well, I thought Mrsha might like to know. Um, see that pink one over there? That’s not water, it’s whllubbly gell, it’s real fun, kind of bouncy. Um, well, this is what you wear to, um, what was the word again, Aunty Lle’onee’ya?”
“Isn’t she asserlutely adorable?” beamed Lle’onee’ya, putting her arm round the agonised Su. “To lounge on the terrace, dear: this is lounging wear!”
“Lounging wear,” agreed Su limply. “Yeah. Um, the sandals aren’t really for walking, but they’re real comfortable,” she added lamely.
Abruptly Jhl collapsed in terrible sniggers.
“Pause,” ordered Athlor tolerantly.
It looked like a beautiful summer’s day on New Felicity—undoubtedly the planet had a Meteo and in fact if Lle’onee’ya’s Warraf was as wealthy as she would obviously like them to think, he could well have paid for it to make it a lovely summer’s day especially for the recording. So the lounging wear consisted of one large square of gauzy material tied on the hip (Su’s being white gauze printed with blue, turquoise and pink flowers, and Lle’onee’ya’s blue gauze printed with gold, turquoise, green and apricot flowers, these last matching her hair), one small triangle of matching gauzy material tied onto the humanoid head with the point of the triangle at the front and a big flower fixed into the knot (Su’s flower being pink and Lle’onee’ya’s turquoise), two small flower-shapes covering the nipples (pink and turquoise again—tasteful), and a tiny triangle of gold scintillion plastered to the crotch, exactly what was holding it in place not evident. Presumably Lle’onee’ya had ordered a hygiene cabinet to depilate the luckless Su. The aforementioned sandals were very, very, very high-heeled and had thin straps wound up the legs to the knee. For a change, Su’s were blue and her aunt’s were green. But both were luminous. Lle’onee’ya’s toenails were luminous rainbows but she seemed to have spared Su that. The mammalian humanoid eyes were shaded by sort of semi-opaque floating things—blob-driven, undoubtedly.
Bit like a visor, madam? suggested First Cook Kadry dubiously.
Not like no visor ever seen on no Space Patrol nor IG Militia nothing, but yeah, if you were being very broadminded about the whole bit—yeah. Su’s strip of floating substance was pink and shaped like a butterfly and her aunt’s was yellow and shaped like a large leaf but anything less would have been very disappointing.
“Gee, out here in the Third Galaxy we don't know the half of it, do we?” marvelled Su’s brother.
Jhl wiped her eyes. “Right. Well, poor old Su! Come on, better see the rest of it!”
The rest of it consisted of an agonised Su under Lle’onee’ya’s supervision taking them through their typical day. Possibly the purpose of this—apart from the boasting on Lle’onee’ya’s part, of course—was to reassure Su’s mum that Su was having a perfectly nice, acceptable time on New Felicity. Because, when you analysed it, nothing happened.
Su and Lle’onee’ya lounged and ate some nibbles and drank fruit juice. Then they dipped—removing the sandals and the gauze squares for the purpose. Then they sunbathed for a bit. At one point a few of the pastel-coloured s-beings came and variously fanned them and sprinkled scented water on them. Then it was time for lunch, so they went into the villa to change, and the blob skipped to lunch. After it had been paused to let the assembled company gape at what Lle’onee’ya apparently considered suitable wear for a lunch with her niece, they watched the two of them eat lunch—there was no sign of the fabled K’Nopsy. Lle’onee’ya went off to take her usual “wee nap” and Su, smiling desperately, sat down on a pastel flop couch in the shade of one of the big sun-umbrellas. The blob then skipped to later in the afternoon, as—great steaming piles of mok droppings—they went off to change their clothes yet again. Su and Lle’onee’ya then were seen getting into Lle’onee’ya’s personal lifter, you could tell it was, it was pale apricot with “Lle’onee’ya” emblazoned on it in gold lumo-blobs. Su smiled desperately.
“Shopping,” discerned Athlor in a bored tone.
“Uh-huh.”
They were wrong, however: it wasn’t a shopping afternoon, it was a little sight-seeing trip! Su and Lle’onee’ya flew over a series of delightful villas set in lovely gardens with wonderful pools (at least according to Lle’onee’ya; Su just smiled desperately), and out to the coast!
“That’s pretty!” approved First Cook Kadry.
It was: very pretty. It was Lookout Point, and there was a wonderful view of a crescent of silver beach, white surf and turquoise and blue sea, with two silver moons visible in the blue sky—that’d be the Meteo’s doing, but Jhl didn’t bother to point this out to the assembled multitude.
At this point most sentient beings in the Known Universe would, surely, have gone down to that lovely beach? Provided they were c-based and o-breather and liked the water. Su and Lle’onee’ya got back into the lifter and flew back to the villa—Su not managing to smile, not even desperately.
So here they were, back at the villa, and here was darling K’Nopsy!
Yeah, well, no-one walked backwards but it was pretty obvious he had a very high opinion of himself. Quite tall for a humanoid, fattish, and at a rough guess, held up by blobs. Pause! Jhl looked really, really hard.
“So?” demanded Athlor.
“Well, admittedly this is coming through a recorder-blob, but, uh, well, that’s not him walking, for a start: it’s his blobs. And I’d bet your father’s entire fortune that the four limbs aren’t his original ones, that the face has been done entirely, quite possibly several times, including the ears, before you ask, including the interior parts, before you further ask, and that every organ that can be replaced in a humanoid has been, very possibly several times. And the spine. Three hundred IG years?” She shrugged slightly. “’Bout that.”
“Ugh. What about his skin?”
“Uh—the colour?” It was a sallow sort of olive green. “Dunno.”
“Hang on!” Athlor got up and rushed into the house again.
Off, sent Jhl, leaning back comfortably. “We’ll just wait,” she said placidly. “No, Kennu,” she replied to the young Azabanese’s bewildered emanations, “I admit I haven’t seen a humanoid that was naturally that colour before, but then, there’s a lot of beings in the two galaxies.”
Athlor hurried back, panting. “All—shades—brownish-green!” he gasped. “Human var. Webbed! Some of them—blow-holes—but they’re—tweaked!” he gasped.
“No need to rush, we were waiting for you,” said Jhl placidly. “That explains it. Must be a lot of water on— No?”
“No!” he gasped, sinking into his chair. “Phew! Um, no,” he said, getting his breath. “It was Lesser Knopschtamm’ld that was mainly ocean: it’s a dead world now. Most of the population of Greater Knopschtamm’ld came from there, but that was several IG millennia back.”
“Goddit. Well, wanna go on— No?” she said kindly to young Kennu’s further bewilderment.
“No—I mean yes— Um, I mean, how can a being get new legs put on?”
Oops.
“It’s quite common back in the two galaxies; they do it with blobs,” said First Cook Kadry, “but I admit I was wondering about the spine, madam.”
“Well, they do that with blobs, too,” said Jhl on an airy note. And between you and me, First Cook, this sort of being has probably had a few clones cultured up for the purpose of having bits taken off them or out of them, but don’t let’s go into that now, eh?
No! agreed the cook in horror, glancing at the assorted clones clustered on the verandah.
Is that right? sent Athlor, goggling at her.
YES! How many times do I have to tell you, that is what rich beings are like in the two galaxies! Blob ON! sent Jhl crossly.
Gee, after their drive Su and Lle’onee’ya hadda go inside, use the hygiene cabinets and change their garments. Then they hadda take afternoon tea with K’Nopsy. It was even more horribly formal than one of Shank’yar’s plasmo-blasted diplo efforts with visiting dignitaries present—though there were only the three of them. Then guess what? They hadda go upstairs, have a wee rest before dinner, use the hygiene cabinets yet again—how many washes a day could the average humanoid epidermis stand? Not to mention one that had been stimo-blobbed and depilated and re-stimo-blobbed and nipped and tucked like Su’s aunt’s had been—and change into “dinner frocks”.
“Evening wear?” groped Athlor.
“Yeah, yeah: whatever.”
Su’s one wasn’t something unlikely that Shan had bought her on Intergalactica, it wasn’t something unlikely and far too expensive that M’mri’in and R’shn between them had got her on Whtyll, it was something even more expensive and unlikely that Lle’onee’ya had provided, but Su just smiled desperately as Lle’onee’ya displayed her in it. Pink. Waving blob-driven frills— Oh, forget it. Lle’onee’ya was silver all over, including the epidermis, and Jhl was meanly glad to see Athlor’s jaw drop at the sight. In comparison, the patched-together, blob-driven K’Nopsy looked almost normal.
Then they dined. Worse than one of Shank’yar’s worst diplo dinners—right. And with sixteen times as many beings serving. Though there were only the three of them.
“Is he eating?” asked Athlor at last.
“I’m getting the impression, not. Well, not as sentient life generally understands the term, Athlor. The food goes in, then it’s processed by some sort of blob—bit like a disposal, I’d say: reduced to its essential chemical components—and fed into his bloodstream.”
“Can he taste it?” asked First Cook Kadry, getting interested.
“Yeah, think so. Taste is generally important to rich play-beings and diplos, isn’t it?” Though I’m not claiming his taste-buds are original.
The stout chef bit her lip. “No, well, I suppose the taste is what matters,” she said weakly. “They don’t seem to be letting Su drink wine.”
“That may be for my benefit: a glass of whatever it is won’t hurt her,” said Jhl with a smile. “But let’s give Lle’onee’ya a Merit Star for effort, eh? Everyone had enough? Shall we skip to the end of the meal?” Surprisingly enough everyone had had enough, and they skipped.
After dinner K’Nopsy always went on the terrace “to smoke a cigar”, so he did that. The company stared blankly. Athlor finally gave in and rushed off to the Encyclopaedia again.
“Usually some sort of plant, dried and rolled up, often with a narcotic content,” he reported.
“Right, same like zuff weed—skip that!”
The blob skipped to Lle’onee’ya and Su sitting in the drawing-room—great steaming Vvlvanian magma pits, and they’d thought the rest of the villa was a fancy, overdone nightmare! All that Lle’onee’ya and Su seemed to be doing was sitting and “chatting” but after while Lle’onee’ya blobbed onto a Romance Service. Dazedly Su ascertained: “So this is when At Koomy’s and Poomy’s Slot comes on, here.”
“So you’ve seen it, dear?”
“Yeah, um, I think it was only recorded, like, on the PBTT for the passengers to watch.”
“Of course, dear! –Wasn’t that terrible?” she said to their audience, her attention returning immediately to the sim-receiver
“Skip to whatever happens after the sim-show,” groaned Athlor.
Another sim-show happened so he shouted: “After ALL the sim-shows!” and it got the point, because the supper tray happened, and K’Nopsy re-surfaced, looking brighter and sprucer, that rolled-up weed must’ve been an upper, not a downer. And they all drank Friyrian veenikk tea—why, why, why? Well, presumably because Lle’onee’ya thought it was up-market. And so to bed…
Just when they were all looking at one another limply the blob suddenly blobbed on again and Su, smiling desperately, said in a hurried voice: “I’m just gonna pwld this off to you. Sorry. She means well, though. And she has been very kind to me. Oops, gotta go!” And the thing blobbed off.
“I suppose I believe it, having seen it with my own eyes,” said Athlor limply.
“Gosh, they didn’t do anything, did they? Except go and look at the beach,” discovered young Kennu in awed tones.
“No,” agreed Jhl. “However, maybe it’s doing Su good, after all.”
“I—I don’t quite see how, madam,” ventured Vt R’aam Forty-Nine in shaken tones while the rest of them just sat there with their jaws sagging, including Jhl’s son.
Jhl raised her eyebrows at the clone. “She appears to have learnt that a being, however unbearable in itself, can yet mean well and, even if it does do all the wrong things, can have one’s welfare at heart.”
“That’s very true!” agreed First Cook Kadry with her rich chuckle, heaving herself up. “I must say, I wouldn’t mind having another look at the dishes they had for dinner, madam.”
“Mm? Oh—have it, by all means, First Cook.”
Beaming, First Cook Kadry stashed Lle’onee’ya’s incredibly up-market recorder-blob in her apron pocket and retreated to the kitchen with it.
“Why did you let her have Su before me?” shouted Jhl’s up-market brother, bright puce in the face. “She’s not even related! And how did the she-mok get Shank’yar’s frequency?”
“It’s no use going on at me,” groaned Jhl. “I can’t answer you, J’f,” she groaned, as he was still shouting. “Oh, Federation: off,” she groaned. “Oh, Federation,” she groaned, sinking her head in her hands. J’f was apparently under the impression that Shan had agreed that he and Su would come to him on Carnuva for Galaxy Day. That was, the two galaxies’ annual celebration, which was dictated by the Intergalactic calendar, based on Intergalactica’s year. On New Whtyll they simply celebrated the anniversary of their first Galaxy Day on planet: with a shortage of blobs and far too many other things to do it had been too time-wasting to figure out the date that would coincide with the IG day; and by the time the PBTTs started coming and they could get more blobs everyone was happy with the new system, of course. So there was some excuse for Jhl’s not having noticed that the biggest public holiday of the IG year was almost upon them; not to mention the distraction of monitoring Athlor’s mind-exercises and the further distraction of potty recorder-blobs arriving every other IG microsecond from the other side of the Known Universe…
Mok shit, what was the quickest way to get a message to Shan that he’d actually look at? Uh—ugh. Vt R’aam Forty-Nine! Bring me a recorder blob, on the double!
The clone shot onto the verandah—he was wearing something very odd that was surrounded with emanations of “butlerly” but Jhl firmly ignored it—and she informed the recorder-blob: “It’s me. This is urgent. Some being, unspecified, has thoroughly cocked up plans for Galaxy Day on your side of the Known Universe, because J’f’s under the impression that you and Su are going to him for it, while over here the last we heard you were all going to Drouwh on Old Rthfrdia. And I don’t care WHAT you do, Shan, but J’f’s started sending me flaming Vvlvanian-cursed blobs, so SORT IT OUT! And DON’T get back to me until you have done! Off! Will you blob OFF, you Trffified piece of space juh—” It had got the point.
“Pwld that off immediately with a covering text-blob that says ‘URGENT, from Jhl’, will ya?” she snarled.
“Yuh-yes, madam,” faltered the hapless clone. “My Lord prefers it if the covering message suh-says ‘From Captain Lady Smt Wong Vt R’aam’, madam.”
Jhl’s jaw sagged. “Do you mean to tell me that all these months—” She took a very deep breath. “Never mind, Vt R’aam Forty-Nine. Just make sure it says ‘Urgent’, okay?”
The clone bowed gratefully, and shot indoors.
Jhl breathed heavily.
Athlor wandered out, looking vague. “Was someone shouting about Galaxy Day?”
“YES!” she shouted. Rather unfairly—this year their Galaxy Day would almost coincide with the IG one, so it was coming up pretty soon.
“What are we gonna do for it, this year?” he asked, looking vague.
“I would hope you’re gonna see those unfortunate kids you’ve sired, Athlor!” retorted Jhl evilly.
“I can’t: the older ones are going on some sort of back-packing holiday in the Blue Peaks—don’t look at me, all I know is that that idiot Br’s Haigh jacked it up with their mothers—and Vanna’s new man’s mother is insisting they all go to her. Some farm way out beyond Mount R’jt, sounds like the dump to end all dumps.” He shrugged.
“At least Br’s Haigh and Vanna’s new man are giving the poor kids some fathering,” noted Jhl evilly.
“Exactly. They’re all a lot better off without me,” said Athlor indifferently. “So what are we doing?”
“Nothing. Dare say D’ffni’d have you: that moron she’s bond-partnered to ’ud enjoy telling you where you went wrong with Vanna over the roast grqwary. Or you could go to H’lln: you’d get the sermon from her and her moron. But it won’t be roast grqwary: the moron’s gone vegetarian, so it’ll be nut cutlets.”
Athlor glared. “I might go to R’jt’s.”
“He’d have you like a shot: he fancies himself as the patriarch these days. All the grandkids’ll be there, it’ll be total mayhem: two of the daughters-in-IG-law belong to some potty women’s group that believes in free expression for kids, in case you haven’t heard. But actually, don’t get your hopes up: L’cee wouldn't have you if they were giving you away with a free blob, she’s furious about the bust-up with Vanna, and gee, ya know what? Telling her it wasn’t your fault isn’t gonna make any impression, Athlor.”
His oldest brother’s wife was a commanding matron who gave the impression of being quite some IG years older than Jhl, so Athlor merely glared.
“Goodness, that leaves Wm or Mrsha,” discovered Jhl in a high, silly voice.
“Hah, hah, hah,” he retorted sourly.
“Quite.”
“For Federation’s sake, Mum! You can’t do nothing for Galaxy Day!”
“Watch me,” replied Jhl mildly.
“I’m sure all the others will invite you, anyway!”
“I intend to turn them all down. By the time they find out that I told each of them I was going to one of the others, it’ll be too late, with a bit of luck. I’m going to put my feet up and contemplate the fact that we’re not under ten IG fluh of snow.”
“Eh? Oh—Bluellia. You oughta be used to us having Galaxy Day in summer by now, Mum!”
One of these days—probably not until she was a very, very, very old lady crawling around with the aid of blobs like Lle’onee’ya’s K’Nopsy, though—Athlor was gonna realise that “ought” never did equate to “is”. Pity she’d be too gaga to appreciate it.
“Yeah. Push off, I’m about to have a snooze.”
“It’s the middle of the afternoon!”
“Exactly,” agreed Jhl, leaning back in her big swing and closing her eyes in a pointed manner.
Emanating sulkiness, Athlor drifted off.
Jhl opened her eyes. “Yeah, and Happy Galaxy to you, too,” she said sourly. “It’s not gonna dawn that he could do something about Galaxy Day, is it?” she said to Dangerous, who was propping his furry back against one of the verandah posts.
“[Subjectless particle], [verbless particle] lovely day,” replied the Loogher comfortably.
Jhl smiled. Well, yeah! All flaming Vvlvanian-cursed relations apart!
Next chapter:
https://theadmirableclone-sf.blogspot.com/2023/11/old-rthfrdia.html
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