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We were outside the apartment in a very few minutes. Two soldiers fell in behind us as we started to walk along the corridor - close enough to be useful but not so close they got in the way - and two stayed at the door. I looked over my shoulder as we walked off, and the Exxoh saw me.
‘For their own protection, young friend. The three of you would be something of a curiosity, and we wouldn’t want them being bothered, would we?’ It sounded plausible, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there wasn’t much we could do if this Exxoh didn’t want us to do it.
We took the stairs down to the entrance hall and there was a buggy waiting for us. As soon as we were inside the Exxoh raised the covers. The two soldiers got to ride outside. We set off around the square, before driving back down the tunnel we had come in through.
‘Where are we going?’ I asked.
‘Oh, we’ll wander about here and there. I want to take you to one of our research and repair establishments first. Then perhaps a spot of lunch, then on to somewhere more interesting.’
The conversation died after that. I felt uneasy. It seemed very strange not to have Pitr within sight, and I even missed Alyssa. The trip sounded like longer than a couple of hours and I hoped the others would not get too worried if I was gone too long. I started to fidget, then realised I was fidgeting and tried to stop myself, which made me feel even more tense. When we drove past a column of men and women, and I jumped at the opportunity to make some conversation.
‘Who are they?’ I asked. Their clothes were rough and tattered, and on their feet they had roughly made sandals. Two soldiers at either end of the column were paying close attention to the people. The Exxoh looked over his shoulder, frowned, and turned back with a disinterested shrug.
‘Just a Crew working party. I really wish they would keep them out of the main accessways during the day.’
‘Crew?’
‘In Go-yen-tan we follow the old ways,’ the Exxoh explained with a note of pride. ‘Officers, Security and Crew. Officers lead, Security maintains order at the direction of the Officers, and the Crew work.’
I digested this for a moment. The people I had seen in the column looked tired and haggard. ‘Are all Crew like them?’ I asked.
‘Oh no, not at all. The more presentable ones are allowed into the houses of Officers as servants, and the more intelligent used in the manufacturing facilities. Some are even allowed to work in the research centre.’ He said, still sounding proud. ‘Those were probably agricultural workers, or possibly a waste disposal detail.’
A short while later we slowed, pulled over to the side of the accessway and stopped next to a smaller corridor guarded by two soldiers. Our escorts got off the buggy and followed us down the corridor. It ended in a door, with a button beside it. After a quick trip upwards in a moving room, we stepped out into a long, bland corridor that had an irregular array of doors down either side. The place looked business-like and utilitarian, and there was a strange tang in the air. It had a flavour of home - metallic and oily with a hint of that peculiar odour that goes with heavy-duty electrical equipment -but not the tired, old and overused smell I was used to. Here it seemed fresh and new.
The Exxoh led me down the corridor to the second door on the left. Without knocking, he swung the door open and stepped into the room beyond. It was an office that wanted to be a workshop, with a paper covered desk on one side and a bench on the other. Both were festooned with the same sort of things I had seen inside the broken little ‘bot.
A tall, gaunt man with white hair and wearing a white utility suit sat behind the desk. He looked up in surprise, peering at us through spectacles that made his eyes look unnaturally large. I stared back. A few people at home wore spectacles, but we only had a couple of dozen pairs and it was unusual that they would actually help somebody. A look of recognition flashed onto his face, quickly replaced by something that looked like dread or panic, then he seemed to get control of himself and his face went to an almost neutral mask.
‘Commander Naal,’ said the Exxoh. ‘This is Garret Trent, this orbit’s Emissary. Garret, this is Commander Naal. He is Head of Research and Maintenance.’
I looked at Naal, nodded politely. The Exxoh continued.
‘Let's try him out on a few of our gadgets, shall we?’
Naal dragged me into a huge room with lots of alcoves and workstations, and all the time the Exxoh was quietly in the background, watching.
In one place I had to think a word as hard as I could while I was wearing a metal mesh over my head. In another I had to try to control a ‘bot using only thought commands, and in another I did a similar thing, but using the drone. Sometimes I had to try to do things using only a screen, like the ones we had at home but much smarter, and other times I had to use the drone to visualise stuff in my head or in front of my eyes.
All the time Naal was asking me questions about stuff I didn’t understand, like he was trying to find how ignorant I was. By the time he stopped I was getting annoyed at having my face rubbed into it so publicly and so comprehensively.
We ended up back in Naal’s office and the Exxoh told him he wanted something delivered before the afternoon was out, then we were back in the buggy and heading somewhere new.
‘That must have been quite a trial,’ said the Exxoh. I nodded. I felt tired, belittled, and I had a headache. ‘I think it might be a good time to stop for a bite and something to wash it down with. I know a delightful little bistro not far from here.’
Food sounded like a good idea, so I nodded again, this time with a smile. Instructions were given and we set off, stopping almost as soon as we left in a plaza. An area on one side had been given over to small tables and some chairs, and large tubs containing colourful flowers defined the edges. Other plants trailed up and across the walls on wire and the air was an interesting mixture of flower scents and smells I suspected were from food. Behind the tables and chairs were two windows and a door. Some of the tables had people sitting at them, and everybody politely inclined their heads to the Exxoh before openly staring at me. That was fair. I was staring back, and gawking at everything else around me. I felt somebody touch my arm, and realised the Exxoh was inviting me to sit at a table set apart from the others.
‘What would you like?’ he asked, handing me a small card sheet.
I looked at the card, which seemed to be a list of the food and drink that could be bought, and I felt myself flushing.
‘Sir, I don’t really know. Back home, we only have plain food bricks. I did get some things that added flavours from Noah, but I haven’t had much chance to experiment with them yet.’
‘Dear boy, that’s terrible. I had no idea that your people were suffering such hardship.’ His voice changed, quieter and as if he was more talking to himself and he said ‘Understandable though.’
I waited for him to say more. The comment felt like a dig, as though he was in some way criticising my father, but he didn’t say any more about home.
‘Are you adventurous, dear boy? I’m happy to choose something for you, if you can tell me if you would prefer to play it safe or be bold.’
For the first time, his smile seemed genuine and there was a twinkle in his eyes. I thought for a second. Would it hurt if he thought I was trying to impress him? If he thought I was currying favour, or trying to? I decided I didn’t care, and I didn’t care if he picked something I didn’t like and I ended up leaving it.
‘Thank you, sir. Would you pick something for me? Something ‘adventurous’?’
He smiled at me like a benevolent uncle, then made a small gesture with his fingers that brought a young woman scurrying to our table. I vaguely heard him muttering something to her, but I was too busy looking around the plaza to notice when she hurried away. There were a dozen other doors with windows either side around the edge of the square. Diagonally opposite where we were sitting was another collection of chairs and tables, but the rest of the doors had no seating. They had bigger windows, and inside the windows were collections of, well, stuff – all neatly arranged and brightly lit from within.
Much of the lighting for the plaza came from powerful lamps near the top of the walls, but rather than being arranged to provide an even glow, these were all focused at a single point on the roof. Most of it was painted a pale blue colour, except where the lights joined making the illusion of a single source. There the roof was pale yellow, and seemed to reflect the light better than it should.
People milled about the plaza. Most of them were women, and they seemed to favour bold, primary colours, both plain and in eye-aching patterns. The majority of the outfits were flowing skirts with tight fitting bodices and long sleeves. One or two wore tight-fitting, one-piece outfits which made me feel uncomfortable Some carried small packages, especially after coming out of one of the doors, but most often there was a Crew-person following them, doing all the carrying, wearing the drab grey outfit I had seen on the column of Crew I had passed earlier. Their clothes were better quality than the others I had seen, and they looked in better health, but none of them looked happy.
Food was brought to our table. The plate placed in front of me was covered with a flat yellow thing, twenty centimetres wide and as thick as my pinkie. Scattered through it and over it were anonymous shapes in a variety of colours. The smell coming up from it was complex and compelling, and my mouth started to water. The Exxoh reached across the table and poured a small measure of a deep, purple-red liquid into a glass near me.
‘We call it a frittata,’ he said. ‘I hope you like it. Go gently with the wine, though’
I reached out and picked up the unfamiliar eating implements, but soon got the hang of them and began to make inroads into the ‘frittata’. It was delicious. The wine was flavoursome but bitter and whilst it cleared the mouth well, I could take it or leave it. The Exxoh picked at a plate that seemed to contain nothing more than plant leaves. He started to talk while I continued to stuff my face.
‘You’re very observant, Garret,’ he began. ‘I like that. Shows curiosity and intelligence. Saw you looking around the plaza. Lots of pretty girls to look at too, eh?’
I felt my cheeks flush, but because of the innuendo not because of the attractiveness of the ladies I had seen. In truth, most looked old to me, or over twenty, anyway. The Exxoh rambled on.
‘I imagine you’re curious about us too? Do your elders still refuse to admit anything exists outside the reprocessing plant?’
I looked up sharply, and I could feel a frown on my face twisted by my raised eyebrows. How had he known that?