“But not as rewarding,” Niall said, and restrained Breslaw. When Sewel tried to leave, he and his men were all told to stay until the party had begun. “Hell, your work day’s over. We can’t do anything more to Helva until tomorrow when she gets her unbreakable, unbeatable, unwarpable, fusion-resistant coat, so let’s have some fun.”
The tech ratings were far too nattered to think of going and Helva was certain that the next time Niall Parollan needed an urgent electrical systems job done, these same men would leap at the chance to work on it. The lift signal went just then as the duly invited members of the party began to arrive. As usual during one of Nialls parties, the lounges, the cabins, the galley, the passageways soon filled with people prepared to enjoy and give enjoyment.
Several brawns arrived, two of whom Helva knew were awaiting assignment and very envious of Niall’s luck, but the majority of visitors were not service personnel. Therefore Helva was not only pleased but flattered that every new arrival first directed attention to the hostess, coming to her panel and either introducing themselves if this were their first appearance, or renewing their acquaintance with a chat.
They tended to treat her as if she were visible and as mobile as themselves. She would have expected such courtesy from service-trained people, but in her travels Helva had regrettably discovered that the average person found it hard to cope with the concept, much less the reality, of a shell person. She’d used that to her advantage, but it was a welcome change to be considered a real person. How much of this was Niall’s pre-party instruction or the good manners of intelligent, well-traveled men and women, she didn’t know. But she enjoyed it. A youngish art dealer, Permut Capiam from Ophiu-chus Minor, gave her one explanation.
“Actually, I met Niall when he commissioned those Asuran solidos he used to get done for his BB ships. He used to complain that he had to spend a fortune keeping solidos of your partners because you changed so often. Seen yours?” Permut frowned. “No, I don’t suppose that’d be good or rather …” he giggled, “a bit too good for your old ego.” He waggled a finger at her exact position behind the panel. “Can’t blame old Parollan for having a fix on you, Helva. You ‘strapolated out the best of the lot. Must say, though, that it makes it easier to think of your solido than all this tinplating.”
So, Niall’s emotional attachment to her was public knowledge? Was this a good sign or a bad one? Permut rattled on knowledgeably about Asuran extrapolations as he’d handled quite a few commissions. “Prehistory Roman and Greek statues are the rage right now. The Asurans merely need a fragment to do the whole sculpture, you know. They do it up in whatever material the client wishes-anything inanimate. There’s a law now against low-life constructs.” He became very serious. “That way lay madness … ugh! Zombie things. I was ever so relieved when the whole business was interdicted by CWC. The sort of low-life restoration is very dangerous.” He stressed the syllables of the last two words.
“Have you tri-ds of the work you’ve handled?” Helva asked, curiously.
“You mean of the realities?” Permut was startled. “No, tri-ds of, say, your latest showing. I don’t fit in most galleries .. .”
“Oh my word, my gallery’d fit in you.”
“And lately I’ve been so busy I’ve not had time to revise my library.”
“My dear Helva, what an appalling omission. What’s wrong with Parollan? It’s the least he could do for you. Man doesn’t live by bread alone, nor exist on a diet of pure physical sensation. Really. Say, I know just the person to give you. -Abu, honey girl, don’t you have some spares of those marvelous tapes you did of the Ceta tour? You do like ET dance forms, don’t you, Helva? I mean, you’ve done your stint on the boards, so to speak. Abu has some perfectly magnificent free-fall performers.”
Abu was an incredibly lithe albino who had capitalized on her genetic inheritance. She did wear remedial contacts for light sensitivity and, Helva noticed on fine vision, the girl also utilized a skin film so artfully applied that only magnification detected it. Abu spoke with the lilt of one whose first language was pitched. The gently musical voice and her extreme grace fascinated Helva. Abu was equally entranced by Helva and the three of them chatted about new dance and art forms.
Suddenly Niall exploded back into the main lounge, carrying two long flaming skewers with bits of meat and vegetables. Behind him danced triplet girls, a dance team from Betelgeuse now the rage of Regulus City, dangerously brandishing their lighted skewers.
“Ancient earth recipe,” Niall announced. “Shish kebabs. Have ‘em while they’re hot. There’re plenty more where these came from. Don’t burn your tongue.” Helva had wondered where he’d gone. “Three of them?” Permut said with a rueful laugh. “No wonder he declared the galley out of bounds.”
Helva caught the implication that more than culinary arts had been practiced there. “With three of them?” asked Abu, taking the same interpretation. The gleam of regret in her eyes was not completely masked by her protective lenses.
“You know Parollan, my dear.”
“Not as well as I’d like.”
Then Niall was proffering them the still smoking meats. “Oooh, this is good,” Abu said, nibbling delicately and then rolling her eyes with appreciation. “This can’t be mutton?”
“Regulan mutton!” Niall replied. “It can’t be,” protested Permut, licking his fingers and grabbing more. “All in the marinade, all in the marinade.” “Is that a new position?” Permut asked archly. Niall laughed tolerantly and moved on to serve other guests, but the ambiguous ribaldry disturbed Helva.
“Do you have olfactory senses, Helva?” Abu asked. “It seems rude to be so … so … rapacious in front of you.”
“I don’t smell as you do but I am able to sense fairly minute alterations in the composition of the air within and about me that would indicate odor.”
“That’s not quite what Abu meant,” Permut said.
“I know but it’s all I got.”
“And you can’t taste either?”
“No.”
Abu’s sensitive face registered dismay at this lack. “I thought you shell people could do everything we could.” “Not … everything,” Permut said, and then some unuttered thought convulsed him with laughter. Abu regarded him blankly for a moment and then with growing impatience and disgust. “Everything comes back to sex with you, Permut.” “Not … not everything,” he managed to say between gasps of laughter.
“Actually, Abu, the programming of the olfactory sensors does give me an indication of a human’s reception of smells. If there’s sulfur in the air, I’d know it, I assure you, as something distinctly unpleasant. As for taste, I can’t miss what I haven’t had,” Helva said, hoping that Permut would stop being so prurient. He’d been good company up till now. “I would like to know how coffee tastes. Everyone seems to fancy it so above all other beverages.”
Abu laughed. “I think it smells better than it tastes. Especially if you’ve got roasted beans and grind them fresh,” her tone of voice dripped with gustatory pleasure.
“You know, I’d forgot that coffee is brewed from beans. I’ve only the container-type aboard.”
“The best beans come from Ipomena in the Alphe-can sector. I’ve a small supply given me by an admirer that I keep for special occasions.”
“You do?” Permut asked, abruptly recovering his composure. “You do?” he repeated, sidling up to Abu and making such absurd expressions that she began to laugh. “I tell you what, Abu, purely to aid in Helva’s education, I will partake of your Ipomenan brew and give her a critical opinion of the quality, aroma, flavor, savor. ..”
“Oh, you!” Suddenly Niall’s voice rang out in happy surprise.