Power Play - Anne McCaffrey [11]
“Wait a min, Diego.” Bunny finally got her awe under control. “People live all their lives on this—thing?”
“Sure. I haven’t lived that long on a planetary surface, you know,” he replied.
Her look was clearly “you poor deprived kid,” but he didn’t notice it, for he was already waxing verbose on the entertainment and catering treats that were in store for her.
“Oh, and I have just the right couple to be sure you don’t miss the right places,” Marmion said cheerfully. “My nephew and niece—or, rather, my late husband Henri Algemeine’s nephew and niece. They are such charming youngsters that I know you won’t object to their company.”
Yana could see Diego’s wince and Bunny’s blink of astonishment.
“They really do know their way around,” Marmion went on firmly. “Bailey Algemeine’s sixteen—”
“Eighteen, Marmion,” Sally corrected her. “Remember, he graduated from Aldebaran Tech last month.”
“Aldebaran Tech?” Diego breathed respectfully.
“Time does fly, doesn’t it? Yes, and I do believe he got both patents on his escape-pod projects.”
“Escape pods?” Diego was impressed.
“But he’s free for a while and waiting for just the right opportunity. So it’s fortunate he’s on Gal Three right now, isn’t it?” Marmion’s bright smile was irresistible.
“Your niece?” Bunny asked with a sideways and slightly proprietary glance at Diego.
“Charmion’s finished her course in neural deprivation—she’s a Pultney-Gabbison, you know,” Marmion bubbled on. “So she came with Bailey for a visit. He’s been showing her around Gal Three, too. She’s nineteen. Almost too athletic for a girl in her social position.” Marmion sighed and, having delivered her message, turned to watch the docking. Now, smoothly aiming at the second horizontal circle, the far-from-insignificantly sized spacelaunch became a mote as it was received into the small docking area that catered to the vessels of people of her rank. Yana began to agree with Sally that proper clothes would lend confidence: not much else would.
A melodious chime rang through the launch, followed by the verbal announcement that all docking procedures had been completed and the passengers might now disembark.
A cluster of people stood politely awaiting their arrival. ‘Bots, attached to gray floats, scurried on board to collect luggage—Bunny followed their progress with round eyes. Yana noticed the girl’s hands twitching at her sides as if she wanted to take one of the ‘bots apart and see what its innards were like.
Bailey and Charmion were easy to pick out of the group: they were the youngest, the boy with long, black hair in a clever clip, and the girl with a head of very blond curls that framed a face as charming as her name. They were a very good-looking pair, fashionably clad in some of the very colors that Bunny had protested about. They also looked intelligent and welcoming, with no trace of the stylish boredom so many young aristocrats affected. Charmion was obviously fond of her aunt and called out a stream of greetings as Marmion disembarked her launch. Beyond Charmion and tall Bailey, Yana saw the imposing figure of Millard Ephasios one of the aides Marmion had had with her on Petaybee; she decided that the tall, attractive, gray-haired gentleman with the patient expression on his face was one of Marmion’s suitors, and the older woman her social secretary. The woman was impeccably dressed and had an organizational air about her, like an officer in a rear-echelon office. Rentnor Bavistock was her secretary, and Cynthia Grace was Marmion’s financial adviser. Marmion murmured that Cynthia would be a good person to