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Colemenoport

Wayfarer


Shan had hoped to open discussion over the meal, but that hope quickly evaporated.

Padi addressed her salad with concentration, devouring it with a dainty ferocity that defeated any attempt at conversation, and reached to the basket for a second biscuit.

Priscilla disposed of her salad and a biscuit with neat efficiency, only checking when she, too, began to reach for a second biscuit.

She raised her head and looked first to Padi, then met Shan’s eyes.

He inclined his head.

It was no surprise, really, that Padi was ravenous. Not only had she received lessons in teleportation, she had arrived at home via that means. Then, she had teleported four times across the suite.

Priscilla’s increased appetite was also expectable, since she had teleported twice across the suite.

What did surprise was that he, having likewise teleported across the suite twice, was perfectly satisfied to savor his salad, and would not have considered himself ill-used, if one of his companions had helped herself to the remaining half of his biscuit.

He took a sip of wine. On the whole, he decided, he was relieved to find that Colemeno’s pesky field did not transcend every law of the universe.

Pushing back his chair, he excused himself from the table, went to the comm and touched the button that would connect him directly with the kitchen.

In short order, he was speaking with Luzant iberFel, the kitchen manager—an excellent person who had made it her business when they had first arrived to find their preferences in terms of foodstuffs, seasoning, and hours—and requested that a sampling of high-caloric foods be sent up.

This required some discussion of what, precisely, his need was.

“My companions have overexerted themselves,” Shan said. “They’re quite famished, poor things, and—”

“I understand,” she said briskly. “We have the basic restorative tray on hand. I’m having that sent up immediately.”

“Thank you,” Shan said, thinking that of course a planet largely populated by dramliz would have developed their own variation of “Healer Mendoza’s tray.”

“Please tell your colleagues to call down, should they find their own preferences not in the basic tray. We are pleased to customize.”

“Thank you,” Shan said again. At that point, the food lift chimed, and he closed the call with promises to call again if another tray should be required.

* * *

Priscilla was serving out the main course when he returned to table, with the greater share finding its way onto Padi’s plate.

She looked up as he placed his burden into the center of the table.

“The basic restorative tray,” Shan said to her raised eyebrows. “The kitchen manager asks specifically to be informed of anything you would like to see more, or I assume, less, of, so that she may build on the basics for you.”

Padi was rapidly clearing her plate.

Shan sat down and addressed his own meal—fish with lemon sauce. Understated and pleasant.

“Padi, have one of the muffins,” Priscilla said, just a little—a very little—Command glittering along the edge of her voice.

Padi fairly snatched up a muffin, and broke it in half.

Shan continued his unhurried perusal of the fish.

He had just finished when Padi leaned back in her chair, apparently sated at last, and looked to Priscilla.

“Healer Mendoza’s tray,” she said. “But—why?”

“Obviously,” Priscilla said, finishing the second high-protein muffin, “because you—and I—expended energy and needed to replenish ourselves.”

Padi frowned.

“But—”

“Did Tekelia-dramliza not explain the physical costs?” Shan asked, perhaps a touch sharply.

“Possibly there is no cost for Tekelia, who is a Colemeno native,” Priscilla suggested.

“I would grant the point, save that Luzant iberFel very quickly grasped the situation, and had a basic tray in the pantry.”

“Meaning that the effect and the restorative have entered the common culture,” Priscilla said, reaching for her glass.

“I will grant,” Shan said, leaning back in his chair, “that Colemeno’s long isolation may have eroded the understanding that their situation is—unique.”

He raised his glass slightly in salute.

“Which point must be added to our after-dinner discussion.”

Padi looked at him.

“After-dinner discussion?”

“Well,” Shan said apologetically, “it was to have been a working meal of its kind, but events overtook us.”

Padi reached for her wine, and abruptly stopped.

“Tekelia,” she said slowly, “had wine waiting for me when I arrived. The last target in our practice runs was the bakery in the village. We each had a slice of savory pie there, and a glass of tea.”

“Proving that Tekelia is a native, and that taking care of the energy expenditure is second nature,” Priscilla pointed out. “I don’t think the failure to give Padi clear warning was—malicious.”

“Acquit me!” Shan raised a hand. “I did not say malicious.”

“Tekelia,” Padi said, raising her voice slightly, “is subtle, which I discover that I am not. We did eat after our exertions. It is entirely my fault if I failed to understand that pie was part of the lesson.” She tipped her head, frowning, and sent Shan a sharp look.

“Councilor ziaGorn told us, as well. You recall it, Father, I know. We had been expressing our surprise at how much cake we had encountered, and he said—he said—”

“‘No one wants an incident,’” Shan murmured. “‘And cake is a very simple thing.’”

“Yes, exactly!”

Shan inclined his head. “Another valid point. We were informed, and more than once. We will therefore know better in future.”

“We will,” she agreed, “but what I want to know right now is—why were Priscilla and I affected, but not you? You expended just as much energy as we did.”

“No, I think not,” Shan said. “At least, a self-examination revealed no large—or even minor—expenditure of energy.”

“But—”

“You supported his efforts,” Priscilla interrupted. “In fact, he is a Healer, not a dramliza. You may have felt him concentrate on your signature, whereupon your Talent reached out to assist him in accomplishing the jumps.” She smiled. “Much like your trick with the stylus, I think.”

Padi blinked.

“And that!” Shan said, “would have meant that you worked twice as hard, Daughter, and quite wore through the benefit of your restorative pie at the village.” He sipped his wine and put the glass on the table. “No wonder you were hungry.”

Padi sighed and closed her eyes.

“I do hope,” Shan said, “that this hasn’t put you off of leaping from place to place at whim. I found it exhilarating, even as a passenger.”

Padi opened her eyes and smiled.

“It was glorious, wasn’t it?” she said, softly. “And so—effortless.”

“Which leads us neatly into our discussions,” Shan said briskly. “Let us adjourn to the sofa. I will bring fresh glasses.”

“I will clear the table,” Padi said, coming to her feet and beginning to gather the dishes together.


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