Young Rissa by F.M. Busby Page B

— about other Escaped Ships. Do you know — ?”  
    He shook his head. “Nothing definite; only rumor. It could be two weeks, or six months — depending on what kind of planet you want to go to.”  
    â€œKind? What kinds are there? And where?”  
    â€œI don’t know where. Ships don’t give out that information — you can see why. The Hidden Worlds have names or numbers, and the ships will tell you about climates and populations — things like that, so you won’t end up on a swamp planet if you prefer deserts. But actual locations are secret. What you and I don’t know, we can’t let slip to the wrong parties.”  
    â€œOf course. But you can put me in touch?”  
    â€œAnd recommend you.” He looked at his watch. “My next appointment’s overdue. Oh, it’s all right, Tari — it won’t hurt for them to simmer a little before they hear my offer. But I judge that the time’s about right. So if you’ll excuse me? I’ve enjoyed talking with you. Oh, yes — you’re staying where?”  
    She stood. “At the First Ever, near the edge of town.”  
    â€œGood. But it isn’t, you know — the first, I mean. The third built here, maybe. But the others are gone now — burned or torn down. So I don’t blame old Charling for boosting his place a bit.”  
    She extended her own left hand, so the handshake was less awkward. “When shall I — ?”  
    â€œI’ll send word; wait for it. Meanwhile — get out and see the country, why don’t you? The worlds are so far apart — it’s a shame to be on one and waste it.”  
    â€œThat is a good suggestion. Thank you, Osallin.” Rissa turned and left. In the lobby a man and woman argued. She waited a moment. The receptionist called a name; the two rose, still bickering, and went to the staircase. She resisted the urge to smile; the wait had softened them up for Osallin, well enough.  
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    In the chilly twilight of Far Corner’s short day she walked back to the First Ever. The landlord greeted her. “Have a good stroll, Ms. Obrigo?”  
    â€œQuite enjoyable, Mr. Charling . . . you are Mr. Charling?”  
    â€œWell, well — somebody tipped my ident, eh?”  
    â€œI mentioned the inn; someone told me the owner’s name.”  
    â€œWell and good; it’s no secret. Now — can I help you?”  
    â€œYes. I would like to take dinner here this evening.”  
    â€œSure. Dining room’s around the corner there,” and he motioned. “Dinner’s served over two hours; you’re about smack in the middle of it, right now. Sign by the door tells the mealtimes.” She nodded, and he said, “Hey — you got a Far Corners watch?”  
    â€œNo, I am afraid not.”  
    â€œRent you one, long as you want, while you’re here. Tenth of a Weltmark per day — rental applies on buying if you decide to stay.” She initialed the agreement on her account card and took the watch, then visited her room briefly and went to dinner. Tired, for it was still her first day out of freeze, she ate a light meal — native meats and vegetables with pleasant but unremarkable flavors. Back in her room she postponed thought and retired early.  
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    Following Osallin’s advice, Rissa spent her next days exploring the countryside within reach of Second Site — on foot, by groundcar, and by air-flitter. She stalked gently through forest and once saw a rare swarming of the furry hive-flyers. For three days she trekked across the High Desert and inspected ruins left by an unknown species that built its doorways approximately one meter high and two wide. A tugboat, towing an ore barge, carried her half the length of the New Amazon river. She rode a flitter to the Heavy Sea and walked its beaches, inhaling