Grass by Sheri S. Tepper

“All exchanges between estancias, then, are by air?”

“All transport of persons or material, yes. The tell-me provides informational exchange. Information entered at your node at Opal Hill can be directed to specific recipients or to certain sets of recipients or used for correspondence withelsewhere.The tell-me links all the estancias and Commoner Town. All travel, however, all deliveries of imports or shipments of export material, are by air.”

“Imports and exports? Consisting of what, mostly?” This was Stella, deciding to be a good child for the moment.

The Obermun hemmed and hawed. “Well, imports are mostly man­ufactured goods and some luxury products such as wines and fabrics. For the most part, exports are what you might expect: various grass products. Grass exports grain and colored fiber. I am told by the com­moners who attend to such matters that the larger grasses are much in demand for the construction of furniture. The merchants liken it to Terran bamboo. There is some export of seed, both as grain and for planting elsewhere. Some of the grasses thrive on other planets, I am told. Some which thrive only here yield valuable pharmaceutical products. Some are highly ornamental, as you have no doubt ob­served. It’s all done by license to various commoner firms. We bons haven’t the time or inclination to be directly involved with the busi­ness. I don’t suppose it’s very lucrative, but it is sufficient to support us and the town, which is to our advantage.”

Rigo, remembering the huge warehouses and the thriving shipping he had seen at the port, suppressed any comment. “And do I un­derstand correctly that the grasses aren’t botanically related to Terran grasses? They’re indigenous? Not imports?”

“No. They are not even similar on the genetic level. Almost all the varieties were here when we arrived. The Green Brothers have hybridized a few to get certain colors or effects. You will have heard of the Green Brothers?” It was not really a question, for the man stared out the window of the flier, the line of his jaw and mouth expressing discomfort. Whatever they had been talking about was something that upset him. “They were sent here long ago to dig up the ruins of the Arbai city, and they took up gar­dening as a sort of hobby.”

Marjorie welcomed the change of subject. “I didn’t know there was an Arbai ruin on Grass.”

“Oh, yes. In the north. The Brothers have been digging away at it for a very long time. I am told it is like most such cities, flat and widespread, which makes it a long task to uncover. I have not seen it myself.” He was manifestly uninterested.

Marjorie changed the subject again. “Will we have the opportunity to meet any members of your family today, Obermun?”

“Mine?” he started, surprised. “No, no. The Hunt is still at the bon Damfels’. It will be at the bon Damfels’ all this period, before moving on to the bon Maukerdens’.”

“Oh,” Marjorie said, surprised into speaking without thought. “I thought you said the bon Damfels were in mourning.”

“Of course,” he said impatiently. “But that would not interrupt the Hunt.”

Rigo threw her an admonitory glance which she pretended not to see, persisting sweetly. “Will others be riding with the bon Damfels?”

“Two or three houses usually hunt together. Today the bon Damfels will be hunting with the bon Laupmons and the bon Haunsers.”

“But not your family.”

“Not my wife and children, no. The women and younger children usually ride only with the home Hunt.” He set his jaw. She had happened upon a sensitive subject once more.

Marjorie sighed to herself. What subjects were not sensitive on this place?

“We will be landing just ahead!” the Obermun cried. “Have we arrived at Klive so soon?”

“Oh, you could not come to Klive in this flier, Lady Marjorie. It is too noisy. It would upset the hounds. No, we will go from this point by balloon-car. Balloon-cars are virtually silent. And comparatively slow, so you will be able to see what is going on.”

And in the luxurious cabin of a propeller-driven balloon-car, a car with windows at the sides and below and so overly garnished as to appear unintended for its function, they went forward to land silently upon a side lawn of Klive. They were greeted by Stavenger. the Ob­ermun bon Damfels, and by Rowena, the Obermum bon Damfels. both dressed in black with small purple capes and veils. Mourning garb, obviously.

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