'It's going to take you forever to buy out of those fines for bouncing brawns,' Tia began, when the inner airlock door cycled, and a pressure-suited person came through, holding a box and his helmet.

 Tia frowned at seeing the helmet; he'd taken it off in the lock, once the pressure was equalized. That wasn't a good idea, because locks had been known to blow, especially old ones like the Class One digs had. So already he was one in the minus column as far as Tia was concerned. But he had a nice face, with kind eyes, and that wasn't so bad; a round, tanned face, with curly black hair and bright brown eyes, and a wide mouth that didn't have those tense lines at the corners that Ari'd had. So that was one in the plus column. He came out even so far.

 'Hello, Tomas,' she said, neutrally. 'You shouldn't take your helmet off in the lock, you know, you should wait until the interior door cycles.'

 'She's right, Tomas,' Moira piped up from the com console. 'These Class One digs always get the last pick of equipment. All of it is old, and some of it isn't reliable. Door seals blow all the time.'

 'It blew last month, when I came in,' Tia added helpfully. 'It took Mum hours to install the new seal, and she's not altogether happy with it.' Tomas' eyes were wide with surprise, and he was clearly taken aback. He had probably intended to ask her where her parents were. He had not expected to be greeted by a lecture on pressure- suit safety.

 'Oh,' was all he could say. 'Ah, thank you. I will remember that in the future.'

 'You're welcome,' she replied. 'Mum and Dad are at the dig; I'm sorry they weren't here to meet you.'

 'I ought to make proper introductions,' Moira said from the console. 'Tomas, this is Hypatia Cade. Her mother is Doctor Pota Andropolous-Cade and her father is Doctor Braddon Maartens-Cade. Tia, this is Tomas Delacorte-Ibanez.'

 'I'm very pleased to meet you, Tomas,' she replied with careful formality. 'Mum and Dad will be here in,' she glanced at her wrist-chrono, 'ten minutes. In the meantime, there is fresh coffee, and may I offer you anything to eat?'

 Once again, he was taken aback. 'Coffee, please,' he replied after a moment. 'If you would be so kind.'

 She fetched it from the kitchen; by the time she returned with the cup balanced in one hand and the refreshments in the other, he had removed his suit. She had to admit that he did look very handsome in the skintight ship-suit he wore beneath it. But then, all of Moira's brawns had been good-looking. That was part of the problem; she tended to pick brawns on the basis of looks first and personality second.

 He accepted the coffee and food from her gravely, and a little warily, for all the world as if he had decided to treat her as some kind of new, unknown sentient. She tried not to giggle.

 'That is a very unusual name that you were given,' he said, after an awkward pause. 'Hypatia, is it?'

 'Yes,' she said, 'I was named for the first and only female librarian of the Great Library at Alexandria on Terra. She was also the last librarian there.'

 His eyes showed some recognition of the names at least. So he wasn't completely ignorant of history, the way Julio had been. 'Ah. That would have been when the Romans burned it, in the time of Cleopatra,' he began. She interrupted him with a shake of her head.

 'No, the library wasn't destroyed then, not at all, not even close. It persisted as a famous library into the day of Constantine,' she continued, warming to her favorite story, reciting it exactly as Pota had told it to her, as it was written in the history database. 'It was when Hypatia was the librarian that a pack of unwashed Christian fanatics stormed it, led by some people who called themselves prophets and holy men, intending to burn it to the ground because it contained 'pagan books, lies, and heresies'. When Hypatia tried to stop them, she was murdered, stoned to death, then trampled.'

 'Oh,' Tomas said weakly, the wind taken quite out of his sails. He seemed to be searching for something to say, and evidently chose the first thing that sprang to mind. 'Uh, why did you call them 'unwashed Christian fanatics?''

 'Because they were,' she replied impatiently. 'They were fanatics, and most of them were stylites and other hermits who made a point of not ever bathing because taking baths was Roman and pagan and not taking baths was Christian and mortifying the flesh.' She sniffed. 'I suppose it didn't matter to them that it was also giving them fleas and making them smell, I shan't even mention the disease!'

 'I don't imagine that ever entered their minds.' Tomas said carefully.

 'Anyway, I think Hypatia was very brave, but she could have been a little smarter,' Tia concluded. 'I don't think I would have stood there to let them throw stones at me; I would have run away or locked the door or something.'

 Tomas smiled unexpectedly; he had a lovely smile, very white teeth in his darkly tanned face. 'Well, maybe she didn't have much choice,' he said. 'I expect that by the time she realized she wasn't going to be able to stop those people, it was too late to get away.'

Вы читаете The Ship Who Searched
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