“But with the weapons gone,” Lea said, “we hope that you’ll be able to stay. Would you like to see the village?”
“Or perhaps you’re hungry/he’s hungry?” the men said in near unison.
“I—” said Hansen. He looked at his hosts and decided to be perfectly honest—because he didn’t have enough information to lie; and anyway, because he preferred the truth.
“I’m not hungry,” he said. “But I’d like to get out there—” he gestured toward the surrounding fields “—just to prove this isn’t some kind of stage set.”
Lea giggled and hugged herself closer to Hansen. Both men smiled also. “Of course, of course,” Dana murmured.
“And I’m wondering a little where everyone else is . . . ?” Hansen added.
Contact with Lea wasn’t as pleasant as it should’ve been, because Hansen noticed his coveralls gave too easily at the pressure of her soft body. The equipment woven into Hansen’s garments seemed to have vanished. His intrusion capsule was now fluff which drifted over the edge of the building on the light breeze.
“We didn’t want you to worry,” said Dana.
“We thought you might be startled by a crowd,” said Gorley.
“But everyone wants to meet you,” said Lea, “not just here but everywhere in Diamond.”
As she spoke, an aircar curved neatly around the odeum from a landing site on the opposite edge of the roof. Simultaneously, loosely organized groups of people began approaching from either direction along the promenade.
All the newcomers, including the vehicle’s driver, dressed in a similar fashion, but there was wide variety in the color and textures of their garments. The crowds contained many children, some of them infants being carried or led carefully by the hand by their parents.
“Hello, Mr. Hansen,” called a little boy, waving a small bouquet.
The aircar touched on the walkway near Hansen and rotated slightly to face its nose outward toward the edge of the roof before it settled finally. The vehicle hummed instead of howling; Hansen couldn’t see fan ducts.
These might be gentle people, but they weren’t stupid—and they weren’t without technology. The whole city-building—very likely the whole of Diamond, planet or universe or whatever it was, was listening to what Hansen said and reacting to it immediately.
“We thought you might prefer to ride,” said Lea, nodding toward the car.
“Though we can take the elevators if you’d like,” said Dana.
“Or walk,” said Gorley. “We’d be more than happy to walk with you.”
The old man looked fit enough to manage the walk despite his age, but Hansen wasn’t sure he wanted to try the long staircases, even going down.
The crowds had halted a comfortable, non-threatening ten meters from Hansen and his companions. More people were still coming around the curves of the promenade.
“No, the car’ll be fine,” Hansen said, letting Lea guide him into the open vehicle.
“Goodby, Mr. Hansen!” called the little boy, waving enthusiastically.
“We’ll have a proper gathering in the common area later,” Gorley said.
“If that’s all right with you, Mr. Hansen, of course,” Dana interjected.
“Yeah, I . . . ,” said Hansen. He didn’t know enough to ask questions.
“But everyone’s so excited,” Lea said. “We all wanted to see you in person as soon as we could.”
The car lifted to clear the turbulence around the building’s edge, then dropped in a curve toward the fields. The irrigation ditches between rows of grain were dry at the moment, but a large reservoir reflected the cloud-piled sky in the near distance, ready to flood the ditches if needed.
“How long has Diamond been settled?” Hansen asked.
The driver throttled back, slowing the car as he steered for a dike between fields. The vehicle was admirably quiet, but it seemed to have surplus power even with five of its six seats filled by adults.
“Our records go back ten thousand years,” said Dana.
“What?” Hansen snarled. “That’s three times as long as there’ve been human spacecraft!”
“We didn’t mean to distress you, Mr. Hansen,” Lea said softly.
“You understand, of course,” said Gorley with an apologetic look, “that time within our bubble—if our scientists are correct—doesn’t necessarily travel at the same rate as that of the outside universe . . . of which our ancestors may have been a part.”