grains of sand on a beach.
It was a fine day. He sat in the broad lower branches of a sunbread tree in the garden at Ikroh, looking out through the canopy of leaves to where a small herd of feyl had emerged from the forest to crop the wineberry bushes at the bottom of the lower lawn. The pale, shy animals, stick-thin and camouflage-skinned, pulled nervously at the low shrubs, their triangular heads jigging and bobbing, jaws working. Gurgeh looked back to the house, just visible through the gently moving leaves of the tree. He saw a tiny drone, small and grey-white, near one of the windows of the house. He froze. It might not be Mawhrin-Skel, he told himself. It was too far away to be certain. It might be Loash and-all-the-rest. Whatever it was, it was a good forty metres away, and he must be almost invisible sitting here in the tree. He couldn't be traced; he'd left his terminal back at the house, something he had taken to doing increasingly often recently, even though it was a dangerous, irresponsible thing to do, to be apart from the Hub's information network, effectively cut off from the rest of the Culture. He held his breath, sat dead still. The little machine seemed to hesitate in mid-air, then point in his direction. It came floating straight towards him. It wasn't Mawhrin-Skel or Loash the verbose; it wasn't even the same type. It was a little larger and fatter and it had no aura at all. It stopped just below the tree and said in a pleasant voice, 'Mr Gurgeh?' He jumped out of the tree. The herd of feyl started and disappeared, leaping into the forest in a confusion of green shapes. 'Yes?' he said. 'Good afternoon. My name's Worthil; I'm from Contact. Pleased to meet you.' 'Hello.' 'What a lovely place. Did you have the house built?' 'Yes,' Gurgeh said. Irrelevant small-talk; a nano-second interrogation of Hub's memories would have told the machine exactly when Ikroh was built, and by whom. 'Quite beautiful. I couldn't help noticing the roofs all slope at more or less the same mean angle as the surrounding mountain slopes. Your idea?' 'A private aesthetic theory,' Gurgeh admitted, a little more impressed; he'd never mentioned that to anybody. The fieldless machine made a show of looking around. 'Hmm. Yes, a fine house and an impressive setting. But now: may I come to the reason for my visit?' Gurgeh sat down cross-legged by the tree. 'Please do.' The drone lowered itself to keep level with his face. 'First of all, let me apologise if we put you off earlier. I think the drone who visited you previously may have taken its instructions a little too literally, though, to give it its due, time is rather limited…. Anyway; I'm here to tell you all you want to know. We have, as you probably suspected, found something we think might interest you. However…' The drone turned away from the man, to look at the house and its garden again. 'I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to leave your beautiful home.' 'So it does involve travelling?' 'Yes. For some time.' 'How long?' Gurgeh asked. The drone seemed to hesitate. 'May I tell you what it is we've found, first?' 'All right.' 'It must be in confidence, I'm afraid,' the drone said apologetically. 'What I've come to tell you has to remain restricted for the time being. You'll understand why once I've explained. Can you give me your word you won't let this go any further?' 'What would happen if I say No?' 'I leave. That's all.' Gurgeh shrugged, brushed a little bark from the hem of the gathered-up robe he was wearing. 'All right. In secret, then.' Worthil floated upwards a little, turning its front briefly towards Ikroh. 'It'll take a little time to explain. Might we retire to your house?' 'Of course.' Gurgeh rose to his feet.
Gurgeh sat in the main screen-room of Ikroh. The windows were blanked out and the wall holoscreen was on; the Contact drone was controlling the room systems. It put the lights out. The screen went blank, then showed the main galaxy, in 2-D, from a
It was a fine day. He sat in the broad lower branches of a sunbread tree in the garden at Ikroh, looking out through the canopy of leaves to where a small herd of feyl had emerged from the forest to crop the wineberry bushes at the bottom of the lower lawn. The pale, shy animals, stick-thin and camouflage-skinned, pulled nervously at the low shrubs, their triangular heads jigging and bobbing, jaws working. Gurgeh looked back to the house, just visible through the gently moving leaves of the tree. He saw a tiny drone, small and grey-white, near one of the windows of the house. He froze. It might not be Mawhrin-Skel, he told himself. It was too far away to be certain. It might be Loash and-all-the-rest. Whatever it was, it was a good forty metres away, and he must be almost invisible sitting here in the tree. He couldn't be traced; he'd left his terminal back at the house, something he had taken to doing increasingly often recently, even though it was a dangerous, irresponsible thing to do, to be apart from the Hub's information network, effectively cut off from the rest of the Culture. He held his breath, sat dead still. The little machine seemed to hesitate in mid-air, then point in his direction. It came floating straight towards him. It wasn't Mawhrin-Skel or Loash the verbose; it wasn't even the same type. It was a little larger and fatter and it had no aura at all. It stopped just below the tree and said in a pleasant voice, 'Mr Gurgeh?' He jumped out of the tree. The herd of feyl started and disappeared, leaping into the forest in a confusion of green shapes. 'Yes?' he said. 'Good afternoon. My name's Worthil; I'm from Contact. Pleased to meet you.' 'Hello.' 'What a lovely place. Did you have the house built?' 'Yes,' Gurgeh said. Irrelevant small-talk; a nano-second interrogation of Hub's memories would have told the machine exactly when Ikroh was built, and by whom. 'Quite beautiful. I couldn't help noticing the roofs all slope at more or less the same mean angle as the surrounding mountain slopes. Your idea?' 'A private aesthetic theory,' Gurgeh admitted, a little more impressed; he'd never mentioned that to anybody. The fieldless machine made a show of looking around. 'Hmm. Yes, a fine house and an impressive setting. But now: may I come to the reason for my visit?' Gurgeh sat down cross-legged by the tree. 'Please do.' The drone lowered itself to keep level with his face. 'First of all, let me apologise if we put you off earlier. I think the drone who visited you previously may have taken its instructions a little too literally, though, to give it its due, time is rather limited…. Anyway; I'm here to tell you all you want to know. We have, as you probably suspected, found something we think might interest you. However…' The drone turned away from the man, to look at the house and its garden again. 'I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to leave your beautiful home.' 'So it does involve travelling?' 'Yes. For some time.' 'How long?' Gurgeh asked. The drone seemed to hesitate. 'May I tell you what it is we've found, first?' 'All right.' 'It must be in confidence, I'm afraid,' the drone said apologetically. 'What I've come to tell you has to remain restricted for the time being. You'll understand why once I've explained. Can you give me your word you won't let this go any further?' 'What would happen if I say No?' 'I leave. That's all.' Gurgeh shrugged, brushed a little bark from the hem of the gathered-up robe he was wearing. 'All right. In secret, then.' Worthil floated upwards a little, turning its front briefly towards Ikroh. 'It'll take a little time to explain. Might we retire to your house?' 'Of course.' Gurgeh rose to his feet.
Gurgeh sat in the main screen-room of Ikroh. The windows were blanked out and the wall holoscreen was on; the Contact drone was controlling the room systems. It put the lights out. The screen went blank, then showed the main galaxy, in 2-D, from a
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