Not, he admitted to himself, that their arrival was all that recent any more. They had been on this planet, listed in the ancient records under the curious name Denner's Wreck, for roughly four centuries by local time, four and a half by Terran standards.
He finished his drink and sat down, trusting the housekeeper to make sure that a good chair, customized to his particular proportions, was waiting beneath him.
The housekeeper did not fail him. It was not that badly deteriorated.
“Who else are you expecting?” Lady Sunlight asked.
“Oh, I'm not really sure,” Sheila replied. “I've told Mother that I'm having my annual autumn housewarming, and I expect Grey to put in his usual appearance and spend the entire time talking about horses and pseudoequines and so forth, and Brenner will probably show up and argue the whole time, and the Skyler may come if I can convince her it won't be too crowded-the usual people. I haven't bothered with actual invitations in almost a century, you know, I just wait to see who turns up. I'm sure that Geste will come by eventually, when he stops teasing the natives long enough to notice what time of year it is."
“Is that what he's doing?” Rawl asked.
“Probably,” Sheila replied. “You know what he's like."
Rawl nodded agreement, disturbing the creature on his shoulder so that it flapped awkwardly upward and set out to find a better perch. “At least he has the grace to try and make amends when he's through abusing them. He doesn't treat them like just more machines or creatures."
Lady Sunlight sniffed derisively.
“You think I'm over-protective of them?” Rawl asked. He knew perfectly well what Lady Sunlight thought, and for that matter what each of the others in their group thought, but he asked in the interests of provoking discussion, in hopes of deepening his insight.
“I think you're too concerned with them,” Lady Sunlight said. “I won't say they don't need protection from themselves, but it isn't any of our business, is it? There's no need for us to involve ourselves with them at all."
“That's what you said when we landed,” Rawl remarked mildly. “You haven't changed your mind?"
“No; why should I?"
“You've had four hundred years to observe them now."
Lady Sunlight looked at him in genuine surprise. “Observe them? Why in the universe would I do that? I've done all I can to avoid them! Just today, before I left to come here, I had one of those stupid robots chase one of the natives away, because he was spying on me. They're just a nuisance, Rawl; I leave them alone, and all I ask in exchange is that they leave me alone."
“They're people,” he reminded her.
“Oh, yes, well, I suppose so, but they aren't anyone I care about. I don't even know why we all insist on speaking their language all the time!"
“Well, we have to, now,” Sheila pointed out, “because a lot of the machines and creatures don't understand anything else."
“And whose idea was that?” Lady Sunlight said, glaring at Rawl.
“Aulden's,” he replied mildly. “He was all for sharing our technology, even more than Imp and Geste and I were."
“Giving them anything isn't our business,” Lady Sunlight insisted. “That's the job of a cultural analysis team. We're just tourists. I said then, and I still say now, that they're none of our business, and that's the way the vote has always gone."
“The majority is not necessarily right,” Rawl muttered. Lady Sunlight did not hear him.
“It's not as if we expected to find them,” she was saying. “When we came here looking for a lost colony we never expected to actually find it! I thought we might find some interesting ruins or antiques, an abandoned settlement, or maybe even a little civilization out of the mainstream, but I never thought we'd find short-lived primitives!"
There was that word again, and Rawl shut up, rather than risk a messy argument over it. He reminded himself that he had picked the quarrel himself, in the interests of livening up the conversation.
He resolved to keep his mouth shut henceforth-at least for a few days. Maybe only the fourteen-hour local days, but a few days.
“I mean, really,” Lady Sunlight was continuing, “how can they go on like that, century after century, living their pointless little lives, farming their crops and killing animals to eat and never getting anywhere? I know they had to start practically from nothing, but they've been here for thousands of years now, and there isn't a city on the planet, and they don't know the first thing about building any kind of machine, let alone engineering themselves useful plants or animals or even bacteria. How can they have lived like this for so long without dying out? It's a mystery to me, I'll tell you that!"
How, Rawl wondered, could anyone live as long as Lady Sunlight had, and remain so ignorant? History held hundreds of examples of stable agrarian societies, on dozens of planets.
He had resolved on silence, however, and silent he remained as he gestured to the floater for another drink. He noticed that his companion creature had found itself a place atop a wooden beam overhead, and he amused himself for a moment by looking at the room through its eyes. The entertainment system had given up on any attempt to coordinate its images with the independently-minded flutterbugs, so the low music was now only sound, and the view unimpeded.
“Excuse me, my lady,” the housekeeper said, slipping into a break in the conversation and fading the music still further, “but you have a call from Brenner of the Mountains."
“Brenner? Put him through,” Sheila said, brightening. Rawl guessed that she, too, found Lady Sunlight's attitudes somewhat irritating, and welcomed the distraction.
Immediately, Brenner's image appeared before them, black-bearded and frowning; he had not bothered with full-figure transmission, so his head and leather-clad shoulders floated in the air unsupported.
“Hello, Sheila,” he said. “I'm calling to let you know that I may not be able to come to your open house this season."
“No? But why not?"
“Oh, well, it seems that Thaddeus is upset about something; I don't have the faintest idea what the hell he thinks I did this time, and the idiot won't tell me, so I couldn't apologize even if I wanted to. Whatever it is, he's shooting at me, and using some fairly serious stuff, too. I don't think it would be a good idea to leave home right now. He might slip something in somewhere, or try to pick me off while I'm travelling.” He shrugged. “I'm sorry, but it's really not my fault."
Intrigued, Rawl shifted his vision back where it belonged and brushed away his new drink.
“He's shooting at you?” Sheila asked.
“Well, yes, but…"
“He can't do that!” Lady Sunlight exclaimed.
Rawl rose and stepped into Brenner's field of vision. “Brenner, I know you don't think much of me,” he said, “but I've made a hobby of settling disputes, if you'd like my help in this one."
“Rawl? Well, I'll be damned, I haven't seen you lately!"
“I've been around."
“I'm sure you have. No, I don't need any help, thanks."
“Brenner, wait,” Sheila said. “Thaddeus hasn't got any business to be shooting at you, no matter what you did. The party hasn't started yet; we're coming down to give you a hand, all three of us. All right?"
Brenner's mouth twisted slightly, as if he were not sure whether or not to permit himself a smile. “Well, I won't stop you,” he said. “But Thaddeus might."
Rawl thought he heard relief in Brenner's tone. He ran the recorded words through an emotional analysis in his internal computers, and concluded that yes, Brenner was relieved. He was far too proud to ask for help, or to admit even to himself that he might need it, but he was worried.