the
fastidiously landscaped inner and mid-parks, the --
The Terrans spoke low among themselves, and
if the language was any she'd ever been schooled in it was not
recognized by her ear at this level, at this cadence.
''Your pardon, driver.''
She glanced to the screen, found his eyes
waiting.
''Does the Serene Taxi Agency employ other
vehicles? Might you be able to summon more if need be? Of this size
or larger?''
She blinked, which he must have seen -- he
had enough Liaden to see the true-name, and hence to read her own
on the driver-slot. Not, perhaps, a common Terran, here . . .
.''
''I have several cars in my service,'' she
admitted, ''though availability depends upon prior routings and
arrangements. Have you an immediate request -- does your friend
need another destination?''
That made the dark man smile and the larger
man chuckle.
''No, driver,'' the larger
one said. ''It is that, if we find our destination as we envision
it, we may wish to invite others to an event.'' He paused, glancing
with some meaning she did not grasp to his companion, who
suppressed a smile as he continued, ''The word for such an event
is picnic in
Terran, or call it a lunch-fest, perhaps, in Trade.''
She had Terran, to an
extent, and this word picnic had come to her along with others of use to her
trade and security -- rob , take , orgy , bash . . . . The destination they
had chosen seemed an . . . odd . . . place for a picnic.
''Ah,'' she said, to indicate that she had
heard, but not wishing to add more. She watched the city wind down
to the true old houses and abandoned shells of things long left to
the elements as Greater Solcintra had grown. Some of the area
actually belonged to this or that clan, other parts had been early
communal areas built shortly after Landfall and ostensibly under
the benevolent oversight of the Council of Clans. They called much
of this area a park, but as so many things the Council did it was a
convenient sop to appearances rather than a reality to be enjoyed
by the average Solcintran.
Here, when they arrived, was a sharp corner
leading into a sudden ridge top. There was a short cross-street;
perhaps buildings had adorned each end at some distant moment in
history. After that came a turnabout overlooking hills falling away
so sharply that at least one of them might be called a cliff, hills
that fell in green profusion to wild streams and scattered rock
below. It was in its way even more unregulated than the wilderness
around Korval's valley, and a little disquieting, for it showed
dissolution rather than desolation. The edge of the turnabout
nearest the cliff lacked a buffer or curb, and there were marks
there as if someone used the spot to push unwanted items into the
ravine.
Vertu stopped on the side of the pavement
with a curb, car and timer running, finding the address matched
perfectly the one the dark Terran had given her. She looked into
the camera then, finding her passengers looking elsewhere.
''Here we find your address. Shall you
depart from me here, where there are neither people nor businesses,
lost in the the backwoods of Solcintra?''
She trusted that Trade might somewhat hide
her amusement, for surely she'd had worse fares. Still, as a
destination it . . . .
The larger Terran said in a Trade undertone
clearly meant for his companion rather than her, ''This could do
it.''
She glanced up, meeting the dark man's gaze
in the camera, amusement flickering about his lips and eyes.
''If you might hold for us a short while,
driver. We must take a few readings . . . .''
She bowed toward the camera, turned as if to
show them the functioning of the doors, which, the cab being still,
were able to be opened by either of them.
''You are my fare, and so I will await you,
as the cab is empowered to charge you for time as well as
travel.''
''Yes, that is so.'' He smiled into the
camera, and the pair moved quickly, opening the doors and exiting,
pulling their luggage with them.
She watched as they
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