CHAPTER 21
The monorail set Kenri Shaun and his fellows off at the edge of Kith Town. There the buildings were low and peak-roofed, mostly houses. Clustered together, they seemed dark beneath the towers and lights that surrounded them; it was as if they sheltered night and quietness from the city.
For a minute the group stood silent. They all knew Kenri’s intention, but they didn’t know what to say.
He took an initiative of sorts. “Well, I’ll be seeing you.”
“Oh, sure,” replied Graf Kishna. “We’ll be here for months.”
After another pause he said, “We’ll miss you when we do go. I, uh, I wish you’d change your mind.”
“No,” replied Kenri. “I’m staying. But thanks.”
“Let’s get together again soon. For a game of comet’s tail, maybe.”
“Good idea. Let’s.”
Graf’s hand briefly cupped Kenri’s elbow, one of the Kith gestures that said more than speech ever could. “Well, good night.”
“Good night.”
The rest mumbled likewise. They stood a few seconds more, half a dozen young men in the loose blue doublets, baggy trousers, and soft shoes current among the local lower class. Folk costume was inadvisable in public. They themselves bore a certain similarity, too, short and slender build, olive complexion, features tending to high cheekbones and curving nose. Stance and gait marked them out even more, nowadays on Earth.
Abruptly their group dissolved and they went their separate ways. Kenri started down Aldebaran Street. A cold gust hit him; the northern hemisphere was spinning into autumn. He hunched his shoulders and jammed hands in pockets.
Kith Town thoroughfares were narrow strips of indurite, lighted by obsolete glowglobes. You wanted to come home to a place as familiar as possible, never mind how outmoded. Houses sat well back, lawns around them, often a tree or two close by. Not many people were out. An elderly officer walked grave in mantle and hood; a boy and girl went hand in hand; several children, not yet ready for bed, rollicked, their laughter chiming through the stillness, above the background rumble of the city. Some of those children were born a hundred or more years ago and had looked upon worlds whose suns were faint stars in this sky. Generally, though, buildings lay vacant, tended by machines. Except for a few permanent residents, the owner families were gone decades on end, only present here between voyages. A few houses would never know another return. Those families, those ships, no longer fared.
Passing the Errifrans residence, he wondered when he’d see Jong. They’d had fun together at such times as their vessels met. The Golden Flyer had last set course for Aerie, and should be well on her way Earthward by now. Since the next trip that Kenri’s Fleetwing made would just be to Aurora, there was a fair chance that the two would take Solar orbit within the same period — No, wait, I’m staying on Earth. I’ll be old when Jong Errifrans arrives, still young, still with a guitar on his knee and jollity on his lips. I won’t be Kith anymore.
It happened that three starcraft besides Fleetwing were currently in, Flying Cloud, High Barbaree, and Princess Karen. That was uncommon. Kith Town would see one supernova of a Fair. Kenri wished he could take part. Oh, he could, when he wasn’t engaged elsewhere, but he wouldn’t feel right about it. Nor would it be wise. The polite among the Freeborn would raise their brows; the uninhibited would say, maybe to his face, that this showed he was and would always be a — tumy, was that the latest word for a Kithperson?
“Good evening, Kenri Shaun.”
He stopped, jerked from his reverie. Street light fell wan over the black hair and slim, decorously gowned form of the woman who had hailed him. “Good evening to you, Theye Barinn,” he said. “What a pleasure. I haven’t see you for — two personal years, I think.”
“Slightly less time for me.” It had been on Feng Huang, whence Fleetwing and High Barbaree went to different destinations before making for Sol. She smiled. “Too long, though. Where have you been hiding?”
“A party of us had to boat to Mars directly after our ship got in. Her mainframe navigator needed a new data processor. The Earth dealer told us he’d stopped carrying that type.” We suspect he lied. He didn’t want to do business with tumies. “We found one on Mars, brought it back, and installed it. Didn’t finish till today, and then, groundside, we had to go through two hours’ worth of admission procedures. Never did before.”