Diana and Polly standing in the main salon doorway.
"I have to be going," Bullone said. "See what I mean about this damn job owning you?"
Diana came down the hall followed by Polly, both with questions about Orne's health. They all went outdoors to see Bullone into his limousine flitter.
The sky was cloudless and there was a smell of green plants in the air with a faint flower perfume.
"We're going to take it easy today, Lew," Diana said. "I've had my orders."
She took his hand as they went up the steps after her father's departure.
Orne found himself enjoying her hand in his -- enjoying the tactile contact far too much for his peace of mind. He withdrew his hand at the door, stood aside, said: "Lead on."
"First, breakfast," she said. "We have to get your strength back."
I have to watch myself, Orne thought. This whole family is too open and charming.
He thought suddenly of the charming women on Sheleb -- before they had turned on him. His body remembered pain.
"I think a picnic is just what your doctor ordered today," Diana said.
"There's a little lake with grassy banks out there. We'll take viewers and a couple of good novels, or anything else you might want to read. This'll be a lazy, do-nothing day."
Orne hesitated. "What about your big party?"
"Mother has that well in hand."
Orne glanced around. Polly had gone inside with a last "Hurry along, you two.
Breakfast for you in just a few minutes."
Orne thought of the things that might occur today in this house, things he should observe. But, no . . . if he had analyzed the situation correctly, Diana represented a weak link. Time was closing in on him, too. By tomorrow, the Nathians could have the government under their complete control.
He knew he had to make an immediate choice. He said: "Friendly native guide, my life is in your hands."
And he thought: I hope I'm not a prophet.
Those who seek knowledge for the sake of reward, yea even to the knowledge of Psi, repeat the errors of the primitive religions. Knowledge gained out of fear or hope of reward holds you in a basket of ignorance. Thus the ancients learned to falsify their lives.
-- Sayings of the ABBODS, The Approach to Psi
Orne found it warm beside the lake. Purple and orange flowers patterned the grassy bank above him. The water reflected a far shore of dark bushes. Small creatures flitted and cheeped in the brush and trees. There was a groomis in the reeds at the lower end of the lake. Every now and then it honked like an old man clearing his throat.
Diana lay on the ground mat they'd spread for their picnic. Her hands were clasped behind her head, eyes closed. The red-gold hair lay in a spray around her face.
"When we were all girls at home we used to picnic here almost every Eightday,"
Diana said. "Weather permitting, of course. They make it rain here too much for my liking sometimes."
Orne sat down beside her, faced the lake. He felt deeply uneasy. The pattern was so clear. Like Sheleb, like home, like here, he thought.
"We girls made a raft over on the other side of the lake," Diana said. She sat up, stared across the water. "You know, I think pieces of it are still there. See?" She pointed to a jumble of logs. As she gestured, her hand brushed Orne's.
Something like an electric shock passed between them.
Without knowing exactly how it happened, Orne found his arms around Diana, then lips pressed together in a lingering kiss. Panic came close to the surface in Orne. He broke away.
"I didn't plan for that to happen," Diana whispered.
"Nor I," Orne muttered. He shook his head. "Lord! Sometimes things get in an awful mess!"
Diana blinked. "Lew . . . don't you . . . like me?"
He ignored the monitoring transceiver, spoke his mind. They'll just think it's part of the act, he thought. The thought was bitter.
"Like you?" he said. "I'm in love with you."
She sighed, leaned against his shoulder. "Then what's wrong? You're not already married. Mother had your service record checked."
"I have to be going," Bullone said. "See what I mean about this damn job owning you?"
Diana came down the hall followed by Polly, both with questions about Orne's health. They all went outdoors to see Bullone into his limousine flitter.
The sky was cloudless and there was a smell of green plants in the air with a faint flower perfume.
"We're going to take it easy today, Lew," Diana said. "I've had my orders."
She took his hand as they went up the steps after her father's departure.
Orne found himself enjoying her hand in his -- enjoying the tactile contact far too much for his peace of mind. He withdrew his hand at the door, stood aside, said: "Lead on."
"First, breakfast," she said. "We have to get your strength back."
I have to watch myself, Orne thought. This whole family is too open and charming.
He thought suddenly of the charming women on Sheleb -- before they had turned on him. His body remembered pain.
"I think a picnic is just what your doctor ordered today," Diana said.
"There's a little lake with grassy banks out there. We'll take viewers and a couple of good novels, or anything else you might want to read. This'll be a lazy, do-nothing day."
Orne hesitated. "What about your big party?"
"Mother has that well in hand."
Orne glanced around. Polly had gone inside with a last "Hurry along, you two.
Breakfast for you in just a few minutes."
Orne thought of the things that might occur today in this house, things he should observe. But, no . . . if he had analyzed the situation correctly, Diana represented a weak link. Time was closing in on him, too. By tomorrow, the Nathians could have the government under their complete control.
He knew he had to make an immediate choice. He said: "Friendly native guide, my life is in your hands."
And he thought: I hope I'm not a prophet.
Those who seek knowledge for the sake of reward, yea even to the knowledge of Psi, repeat the errors of the primitive religions. Knowledge gained out of fear or hope of reward holds you in a basket of ignorance. Thus the ancients learned to falsify their lives.
-- Sayings of the ABBODS, The Approach to Psi
Orne found it warm beside the lake. Purple and orange flowers patterned the grassy bank above him. The water reflected a far shore of dark bushes. Small creatures flitted and cheeped in the brush and trees. There was a groomis in the reeds at the lower end of the lake. Every now and then it honked like an old man clearing his throat.
Diana lay on the ground mat they'd spread for their picnic. Her hands were clasped behind her head, eyes closed. The red-gold hair lay in a spray around her face.
"When we were all girls at home we used to picnic here almost every Eightday,"
Diana said. "Weather permitting, of course. They make it rain here too much for my liking sometimes."
Orne sat down beside her, faced the lake. He felt deeply uneasy. The pattern was so clear. Like Sheleb, like home, like here, he thought.
"We girls made a raft over on the other side of the lake," Diana said. She sat up, stared across the water. "You know, I think pieces of it are still there. See?" She pointed to a jumble of logs. As she gestured, her hand brushed Orne's.
Something like an electric shock passed between them.
Without knowing exactly how it happened, Orne found his arms around Diana, then lips pressed together in a lingering kiss. Panic came close to the surface in Orne. He broke away.
"I didn't plan for that to happen," Diana whispered.
"Nor I," Orne muttered. He shook his head. "Lord! Sometimes things get in an awful mess!"
Diana blinked. "Lew . . . don't you . . . like me?"
He ignored the monitoring transceiver, spoke his mind. They'll just think it's part of the act, he thought. The thought was bitter.
"Like you?" he said. "I'm in love with you."
She sighed, leaned against his shoulder. "Then what's wrong? You're not already married. Mother had your service record checked."
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