Charles Soerensen Dr. Cara Fel Hierakis Margaret O'Neill David ben Unbutu Ursula el Kawakami Rajiv Caer Linn Joanna Singh
The Bharentous Repertory Company:
Ginnaia Lac Arbha Seshat Onn Anahita Liel Apphia Helen Angiras Diana Brooke-Holt Madelena Quinn Oriana Vuh Catanya Yomi Applegate-Hito
Owen Zerentous Dejhuti Joldine Gwyn Jones Jean-Pierre Dasas Henry Bharentous Hyacinth
Phillippe Navarone Joseph Applegate-Hito
1
Partial Manifest of Goods:
1
22 Hou-Kohl palm slates thermal mitts
1 Ananda-Cray Modeler
2 frying pans
1 Ananda-Cray clothespins demiModeler rope
1 Grousset solar mini portable platform
1 Xi-Dela portable
4 free-standing screens cookery
10 carpets
10 two-capacity canvas scrubbing pads and towels
1 tents
1 fire extinguisher
3 ten-capacity canvas tents
3 buckets
23 canvas cots
1 portable efficiency: WC
4 folding tables and shower
23 folding chairs
7 crates belonging to Dr. Hierakis (uninspected)
23 wilderness thermal
1 blankets
5 crates of misc. props
4 dishpans and costumes: see
25 sets: knives, forks amp;
Company manifest for Interdiction allowance
25 sets: mugs, plates amp; misc. personal items, ltd. bowls to 2 carry bags
3 chopping boards person (12 kg. ea.)
3 kettles
100 gallons of water
3 ladles
emergency transmitter
1 water purifier
5 Minimax solar cells
axes and shovels
10,000 bags of tea
1 soap
CHAPTER SIX
A peremptory knock sounded on the door behind Diana. She glanced up, startled, and lost hold of the inkwell just as the ship rolled steeply. The inkwell slid off the table and fell to the floor. Diana swore and ducked under the table to grab for it. It spun in a furious circle, spewing ink, and then rolled with the tilt of the floor toward the bunk. Diana swore again, more heated words this time, bumped her head on the top of the table, and saw a booted foot catch the inkwell, stopping it neatly before it could roll under the lip of the bunk.
'Such language,' admonished the owner of the foot.
She crawled out from under the table. 'Hello,' she said, surveying Marco Burckhardt with remarkable calm. Somehow, her anger at the mess counteracted her fluttering heart.
He grinned at her and bent to retrieve the inkwell. 'It's a messy business. Writing with pen and ink. Palm slates are much more convenient.'
'This is an interdicted planet.' She took the inkwell from him, stoppered it, and used a rag to mop up the spilled ink. 'Thank you.' Out in the passageway she heard the voices of the rest of the party as they packed and readied to leave.
Marco examined the room-Hal's three duffel bags, open, with clothing and interesting odds and ends strewn over the lower bunk; Diana's two little carry bags on the upper bunk, tied and neat and ready to go. 'Where's your roommate?'
'Out throwing up over the stern one final time, I think.'
'Ah, he was one of the really sick ones.'
'And an actor, you know. Think of it as a farewell gesture.'
'If you're ready, I can get you on the first boat going in to the harbor.''
'Can you?' Diana clapped her hands together and clasped them at her throat. 'That would be marvelous! Here, I'm ready to go right now.' She closed the journal, laced it shut with a leather cord, and stuffed it into the side pouch of one of her bags.
'May I carry those for you?'
'No, I'm fine. Well, if you insist, you may take one.' She handed him the bag without the journal in it, hoisted the other in her left hand, and followed him out of the cabin and down the passageway, dodging actors and their gear.
A brisk wind blew on deck, and though it was cold, it was clear, the sun a fine golden disk in the purpling-blue sky. A shoal of harbor boats crowded up against the ship's low-slung hull. Dr. Hierakis stood supervising the loading of her mysterious selection of crates and barrels into the forward boat. Charles Soerensen appeared from his cabin. He swung two bags-no heavier, Diana judged, than her own-over the rail and dropped them the two meters. They landed next to a meter-square crate. He climbed down the ladder, into the boat.
'Hello, Marco. Coming with us?' Margaret O'Neill, Soerensen's assistant, appeared at the railing beside them. She glanced at Diana, at Marco, grinned, and then hid her mouth behind one hand.
'But of course, my flame-haired vixen. I could not bear to be parted from you even for so short a time. Do you know Diana?'
'Of course I know Diana. We spent a companionable two days together at the beginning of the voyage, throwing up over the stern.'
Diana smiled but could think of no reply. Maggie treated Marco with a casual irreverence that Diana could only marvel at, and certainly could not hope to imitate.
Without asking, Marco took Diana's second carry from her grip and slung both bags down into Charles Soerensen's waiting hands. A gaudy gold ring flashed on the duke's right forefinger. Looking up, Soerensen caught Diana's gaze on him and he nodded in greeting. Diana blushed and waited to descend into the boat until Maggie and Marco had gone before her. The boat rocked on the wind-whipped water. Dr. Hierakis secured the last of her crates and then sat. As one of the boatmen poled them free of the ship, Diana could not resist turning to wave to the handful of actors who had by now arrived on deck. Four sailors began the steady stroke of the oars, and the boat headed in to the docks, leaving the rest to follow in its wake.
A line of red rimmed the dockside. It had a shimmering, restless texture like, Diana thought, a festival decoration or some religious iconography. But as they neared the shore, she realized that it was a long line of
