Godowlning’s broad pinkish face was graced by a jovial smile, showing yellowish but even teeth.
THE SHIP WELCOMES MRDINI GUESTS and the chief got that sentence out with the concentration of one who has rote-learned phrases and was not really thinking in the language. But thinking in `Dini, as Rojer well knew, was not easy to achieve.
`You don’t know how pleased they are to hear `Dini, Chief Godowlning,’ Afra said, rising up from the carrier.
`Your son was giving lessons, Prime, and I took as many as I could,’ the chief said and then, hearing new voices, turned. Rojer could see his shoulders ease with relief. `Here’s the captain.’ He leaned conspiratorially towards Afra, a tableau that made Rojer grin.
His father was long and lean and the chief rather short – Rojer was taller – and as rotund as regulations allowed. He turned now and braced again. `Captain, sir, the Primes have arrived.’ `For the record, chief,’ Afra said in a low voice as the captain hurried to the cradle, `I’m not the Prime.
My son is. I’m T-2.’ The chief gave Rojer a worried look but Rojer smiled at him as he’d often seen his mother smile at sceptics and bent to help Gil and Kat from the carrier.
`I say, Mr Lyon … Messrs Lyon,’ and Smelkoff corrected himself with a genial laugh that echoed in the big shuttle bay, `you are prompt to the second.
Caught me still on the bridge. But we’ve auxiliary screens here so you can see what we’ve salvaged.’ He was then close enough and extended his hand.
One shake is only polite. Shield, Afra told his son as he followed his own instructions.
Rojer complied and noticed the surprised look on the chief’s face but their acquiescence to the courtesy did much to raise them in his estimation. Talents rarely allowed casual contacts but to have refused this the forgetful captain would have been impolite.
Remember that, Afra said.
`So you’re the Prime, are you, boy? This your first official act?’ `No, sir, I’ve been on Tower duty since I was twelve.’ Rojer could `feel’ his father listening hard and not reminding him to be properly modest about his abilities. `All of us do Tower time. But my father is the focus, not me. He’s got to guide. I’m the grunt.
Rojer heard someone’s politely muffled guffaw but he could also sense his father’s approval, and that the captain was totally reassured.
`That wasn’t how Earth Prime described your separate talents, young Mr Lyon, but whatever gets that pod where it 5 safe . ` Only the two Talents were aware of how nervous and vulnerable he felt, even with the pod towed kilometres behind the Beijing.
Outwardly, the captain was relaxed, assured and exuding an air of authority and competency. `This way…’ and he led them to the companionway leading up to the control room. `Commander Strai, my chief engineer, is waiting for you in case you need to know anything about our engines.’ `I understand from reports sent back by Isthian Lyon on the Vadim that we’ll have no problem gestalting the Beijing’s engines. More power than we’d ever need.’ `You are Mr Lyon’s father, then,’ the captain said conversationally.
`Yes.’ And you’re his brother, young Mr Lyon.’ `Yes sir,’ and Rojer couldn’t suppress how proud he was of Thian. `We’re a long-tailed clan,’ he added because the captain was telling himself not to babble: there was only one Talent family named Lyon, and they were kin to the Earth and Callisto Primes.
`I’ve half a dozen cousins serving on Capella in various Towers.’ `Do you so?’ the captain continued, feeling less gauche. Rojer couldn’t help but read his public thoughts: the man’s apprehension left him wide open. Rojer did ignore Smelkoff’s fears that the kid didn’t look that young, with that white streak of hair, but he couldn’t be very old or he’d already be Towered somewhere, since FT&T could use a hundred Primes and still have vacancies. Couldn’t the senior Lyon have handled the `portation by himself? He had a very competent, experienced look, the sort a man could trust, even if he was Talented.
T-2?
That wasn’t much under a Prime. Oh, well, FT&T knew what it was doing. He hoped.