The Draco Tavern - Larry Niven [76]
DAY THIRTY-ONE
Her brood surrounded her in a ring. Harharharish was reading to them, in English. Walt was among them, listening quietly.
The Wayward Child was inside, hovering near the top of the dome. She wasn’t happy. I couldn’t help that. A blizzard was raging beyond the dome.
Queeblishiz spoke, and I jumped, because she wasn’t in the Tavern. “Rick, the lander is down. We will take the children aboard as soon as your climate is habitable again. How long will that be?”
“I never know how long a blizzard will last,” I said.
Pause. “We’ll send a tank.”
Oh, yeah? “You carry a tank big enough for the Wayward Child?”
Pause. Hell, she must be in orbit around the Moon, not on the lander. “We’ll generate it. One hour. Rick, this affair must have cut deep into your profits. We will pay recompense.”
“That’s fine.”
Two-point-four seconds passed. “I would have come to bid you good-bye, but I cannot tolerate your environment.”
“Are you all right?”
“We’re all pregnant.”
The impulse to laugh disappeared in an instant. “What are Chirpsithra children like?”
“Voracious,” Queeblishiz said. “Good-bye.”
Jehaneh handed me an Irish coffee, half strength. “I’m going to miss them,” she said.
“Which?”
“Well ... the mother bear. The rest I can do without, except that Walt loved the snakes. Djil, where do you go from here?”
Djil said, “Colorado. The Folk are planning a Grand Canyon run, puppies and all. They’ll go home on the next ship. Where do you go?”
Jehaneh looked the question at me. I said, “From this point on the Tavern is for adults, unless it’s adults and Walt. You’ve played barmaid here. You think Walt is safe?”
She thought it over. She said, “Yeah.”
LOST
Two United Nations personnel were waiting for me when I wobbled off Vanayn’s dinghy. Vanayn looked at them, then brushed past. They stepped out of his path. He massed around three hundred kilos, and within the bubble helmet his mouth was a horrorshow of blades.
The tall one, a nordik-looking woman, forced a handful of papers on me. “You’re Rick Schumann? Proprietor of the Draco Tavern?”
“Lucky guess.” I took the papers without looking.
“I’m Dr. Cheri Kaylor. This is Carlos Magliocco,” a dumpy Mediterranean-looking guy. “We need to interview you, debrief you, before you forget anything. May we—?”
My mind was one long fog bank. I said, “The Tavern.”
She looked at me doubtfully. Then she took my arm before I fell over.
The dumpy man drove us down in an SUV. He didn’t say much. We entered the Tavern through one of the big airlocks.
The Tavern was unchanged. Intellectually I’d expected that. Emotionally, I was just starting to resume my life. Nothing was broken, nothing added, nothing vanished. The customers were the same I’d left behind, a few missing, a few added. Vanayn was chattering with some Chirpsithra at the big table.
David Cho, whom I’d left waiting tables, came to greet me. “How was the ride?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Feed me.”
“What do you want?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Dr. Kaylor said, “Mr. Schumann—”
“We can talk while we eat,” I said. “You want anything?”
“All right.” She looked at her companion and asked, “Nachos?” Looked at me, took my arm again, and got me settled in a booth. “You could use a drink, Mr. Schumann.”
“Yeah. David? Tea.” My hands trembled.
Kaylor said, “That must have been quite a ride.”
I smiled. I hadn’t smiled in some time. “You might say so.”
“You’ve only been gone seven hours.”
“Really? When did they send for you, Dr. Kaylor?”
“Mr. Cho phoned us before you reached the airlock, he says. We’ve been waiting in the Tavern. This place is a wild experience, Mr. Schumann.”
“The Tavern? I’ve gotten used to it over the years,” I said. Thirty-two years now since I founded the Draco Tavern. Thirty-four since the first of the Chirpsithra interstellar liners took up orbit around the Moon, and the bubble shapes of the landers floated down the Earth’s magnetic lines to