As, indeed, had the world. For what else did all the fumbling and reexamination to find a new direction mean than the dawning, finally, of a new perception that sought more than could be captured by Terran monetarist bookkeeping or the Hyadean calculus of efficiency as the sole measure of the worth of a life or the purpose of existence? Maybe now, together, the two races could build the legend the Hyadeans had created of what Earth could have been. If so, then perhaps the war had not been in vain.
The cabin came to a halt beside a platform in a roomy concourse of service desks and seating areas laid out beneath bright panel lights set amid a typically functional configuration of tie beams and roof supports. The arrivals disembarked to a throng of Hyadean officials and agents waiting to receive them. The Hyadean who had accompanied Cade and his companions from Denver conducted them to the two Hyadeans, a male and a female, who had been assigned to look after them. Waiting with them was a familiar purple-and-crimson-haired figure, dressed glaringly in an embroidered Bolivian shawl, straw hat with a band of wildy colored design, and bright green gaucho pants. It was Tevlak, going back on the same ship to spread Terran art on Chryse.
“So how things have changed since we were together,” he said, shaking hands vigorously with Vrel, Cade, and Marie. “Then, the security people invaded us. Now they no longer exist.” He put a hand on Nyarl’s shoulder. “So sorry about Luodine. She should have been here today to see this.”
“It was still as much her doing as anyone’s,” Nyarl told him. The guide from Denver performed the remaining introductions.
“You know, this routine at airports is getting to be kind of old,” Cade said to Marie as they began walking toward a ramp leading though to another space.
“I guess we’re just going to have to get used to being famous for a while,” Marie replied.
“Without the gun, I could get used to it,” Cade said. He snorted. “I never even got to shoot it. I told you I was never cut out for that kind of stuff.”
“So we complement each other. That’s supposed to be a good thing.”
Dee was looking around and up at the utilitarian drabness of what passed for decor, and raw engineering of the architecture. “Is it all going to be like this?” she asked Vrel. “If they’re catching on to our ways there, there has to be a whole load of openings for interior designers.”
“I think there are going to be some big changes very soon,” Vrel said. “We can’t import the Andes valleys or the Amazon forest. So what we lack naturally, we’ll make up with through ingenuity.”
“Ten years from now, Terran tourists will be flocking to sample the exotica of Chryse,” Tevlak assured them.
“That soon, eh?” Dee sounded skeptical.
“It isn’t going to be just enthusiasts like me—just one person on his own,” Tevlak said. “Bringing Earth to Chryse will involve everybody. Lots to do for lots of people.”
Cade glanced at them and thought for a few seconds. “You reckon so, eh? I think I know a few people who could be a big help. Maybe we could sound out a few leads for them as part of the agenda while we’re there.”
Marie nudged him pointedly. “I thought we said that all that’s over. You were going to find a new meaning in life.”
“But hey, people still need to talk to each other. A lot of them are still going to be too busy to know all the options. . . . And besides, I like meeting people.”
“What happened to the celebrity?”
“Oh, by next month they’ll have found another one to put on the screens everywhere. That’s the way it works. But with real friends you don’t get forgotten.” His voice warmed to the thought as a lot of aspects he really hadn’t considered before started clicking into place. “In fact, it could even be a lot better now, considering what we know. Take those people in Australia that I told you about, for instance. They’re already doing it right, but only in a small way that suits their own needs. You know what scientists are like. Now if a few more of the right people on Chryse knew more about that . . .”