Chapter 18: Arrival, Part 1

Land log: Day 1

In the last three hours-four stemquivers so powerful they almost buckled my knees. It's Olivine of course. I hope she felt the ones from me.

We've cleared the Wentworth port; a neighborhood called Famouth. The enormous Slight ship is sitting in its outsized landing cup like a huge, fuzzy, brown egg. I expected it to cause a stir, but people went on about their business; they move fast. The port is very loud and crammed with vessels of all sort, private and commercial.Merkury is in a plain berth. Ronnie, Vuud, and I sold the drones instantly and are now rich as kings; even for this planet. They have scattered into this vast city which appears to be called Garner. We are all thrilled, especially Ronnie. Vuud-It's harder to tell with someone with black blood; but he did crackle with a sober eagerness. We will contact each other every other day via earbug. The one I bought looks like a freckle.

As soon as I left the dock area, I rented a room within walking distance of the port. It looks totally new.

Right now, I'm flying over this city which is gigantic and all one can see in any direction. I am in a public trickle with three other passengers. They are pretty much like people on Marble, though much better dressed. Probably dispersed from Old Earth about six generations back.

The young man on my left has on a pair of like snug black slickpants with small green crescent shapes going up the insides of the legs. Above that, a turquoise and white shirt half opened down the front revealing another light shirt of velvety green and stark white, and an orange undergarment and finally a rich purple sort of thing that hugs his neck.

"How does this bus know where to go?"

He turned deliberately and regarded me for a moment-perhaps I had said something rude?-eyebrows slightly raised.

"Well, Merchan, where do you want to go?"

Glancing at my notebook to be sure, "Square forty-five, District 2, Redpark."

"Now it knows where to go, Merchan. And here you are!"

"Many thanks," I swung my gearbag out of the gently rocking trickle onto a lush greensward such as is unimaginable on dry old Marble. My feet revelling in the cool living softness.

As my arm is seized.

Turning, I see Olive. Her smile huge. Her whole self so lovely and real.

"Olive!" Our arms enfold one another.

Why is reality so special? I have thought of Mica many times a day. I've viewed images of him as time slipped slowly by. But nothing prepared me for actually seeing him. So large, such strong arms. His bare neck. I kissed it and it turned red, Ha-ha! His unreasonable chrome yellow hair. He kissed my lips, my eyes, my ear (right). The real person, I can't believe my luck.

He actually fell over on the greenness and then dragged me down, I kneeled on my white dress. He had green stains on his apparently new slickpants, "Oh, Mica."

When we released each other, we realized there were, well, others around. There were three or four mommies with a child each. Two young men lying on the green, chatting, and an older couple leaning on a strengthening ladder. All were staring at us. It's odd: people here in Garner talk about and view many images of sex daily. But public touching and affection is a bit shocking.

Holding hands, we helped each other up off the greenness, and before I could lead him off, he stopped and looked into my eyes. I was not surprised but full of delight.

The door softly descended behind us. Mica stared around my small living space. He sniffed the air like some one-person animal. Seeing the colored lanterns I had put up with wisps of black smoke rising from them, he closed his eyes and smiled and snuffed again. "Oh, real fire and smoke."

"Are you hungry, Mica?"

"I'm hungry, yes."

He looked down at my breasts. I undid the fastening of my dablouse, then two more. He bent toward me and kissed where my breasts squeezed together. Then each one separately. I became dizzy too.

"But,I meant like to eat. I have something special I made for you---to eat."

"I do smell something wonderful," he whispered. "It's you and something else."

"Yes."

"You can sit at this table or come with me into the kitchen; it's almost ready."

I spent a few more minutes using actual fire to finish the meat. The other parts went in the regular "works". The fireworks I bought especially for doing the meat. Mica stood there and watched me. He licked his lips in an unconscious way I have never seen him do.

"Mica, my dear, why don't you sit in this chair and I'll sit on the bench, it's soft enough." I noticed how his green marked pants hugged his leaner and muscular legs.

"What is this? I've never smelled anything like it?"

"It's called 'steak'. You can read about it in old realbooks. See, there's a knife and an old fork. Stick the fork in and cut off a piece with your knife-like this."

He did, he got a nice fatty piece.

"Oh, Oof, this is so good! I can't believe I've never eaten it before. Amazing, Olive, my dear."

We both chewed the delicious meat, liquid leaking out of the corners of our mouths. We tried the other truly delectable things on our plates: whiterice, shellfish, espinoches with bacon, pricklebeads, and softgreen.

"This is the best meal I've ever had," he finally gasped. "That meat---"

"I love it too. It's extremely expensive so I almost never have it. But---"I wiped my lips with a napkin.