They
both beamed happily; that expression didn't look sad, at all, now that
you knew what it meant. Sonny began ghroogh-ghrooghing hideously; Mom
hushed him with a hand over his mouth, and they both made eating
gestures, rubbed their abdomens comfortably, and pointed toward the
mess hut. Bennet Fayon was frightened. He turned and started on the
double toward the cook, who was standing in the doorway of the hut,
calling out to him.
The cook spoke inaudibly. Fayon stopped short. "Unholy Saint Beelzebub,
no!" he cried. The cook said something in reply, shrugging. Fayon came
back, talking to himself.
"Terran carniculture pork," he said, when he returned. "Zarathustra
pool-ball fruit. Potato-flour hotcakes, with Baldur honey and Odin
flameberry jam. And two big cups of coffee apiece. It's a miracle
they aren't dead now. If they're alive for lunch, we won't need to
worry about feeding them anything we eat, but I'm glad somebody else
has the moral responsibility for this."
Lillian Ransby came out of the headquarters hut. "Ayesha's coming
down this afternoon, with a lot of equipment," she said.
Pages:
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66