Normally, she couldn’t have afforded any place this nice and would, therefore, have avoided it like the plague. She never, ever lived above her visible means — it was the first thing Bane Sidhe internal security looked for when they swept for moles. But with the bonus, she could afford a good meal out, and the Old Man knew she had a high-level meeting. Besides the tongs had a good reputation for actually delivering privacy when they sold it. If paid not to ask questions, they asked no questions. Not that I’ll actually be paying. I didn’t get to the top of the profession without knowing when to take a calculated risk. Necessary mission, this gets the job done, saves scarce resources. In this case, my own. I’m not touching that seed capital for more than the girls’ Christmas until it’s had the chance to get together with those stock tips and make babies.
Recognition was as professional as she could want. A word and a hand sign, a particular place at the counter, and a waiter discreetly ushered her to the back room, handing her several menus. If the manager was surprised when he asked her if she would be expecting anyone and she said her friend would find her, he gave no sign. He simply left and presumed his guest knew her own business. Michelle appeared seconds after the door shut behind him, robed, as always.
Cally carefully didn’t sigh. “Okay, we can’t have lunch without the people up front seeing you enter in the normal way. Hey! Don’t go!” This time she did sigh, in relief, as Michelle stayed there but raised an eyebrow. “Here. I got you some street clothes. Change and do your thing, showing up in the ladies’ room. Nobody really ever notices who goes in and who comes out, but they will notice if you’re in this room without entering it. Go ahead and change here. At least nobody’ll come in without knocking. Oh, and your code keys are in the bag.”
Michelle’s eyebrows arched higher in her otherwise impassive face, as she took the bag but made no move to change clothes.
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes. I won’t look, all right?” Cally said.
Michelle carried the clothes over to a corner, looking at Cally pointedly until she turned her back. A few moments later the Michon Mentat handed her sister her folded robe and disappeared. Before she left, just for an instant, Cally saw her feet. Birkenstocks?!
When Michelle walked back in, she was obviously ill at ease in clothes that were, for her, so unusual.
“So how long has it been since you’ve worn anything but these robes?” She put the garment, which she’d been holding on her lap, into one of the now-empty shopping bags.
“Earth styles? Fifty years. The cut and fabric of clothing has changed over the years for utility reasons, even on Adenast. And the first colors were inharmonious for human well-being. But our changes have had nothing like the frequency and variety you have here. Clothing is counterproductive for the Indowy, and we — they and us — do not see the point in having to turn around and replace things over and over again every couple of years, or worse, like less Galactized humans do.”
“How do you stand it?” Cally couldn’t help asking.
“I wanted to ask how you do.” Michelle chuckled. “Having to buy replacement clothing as often as you do would deplete my pay very quickly. Not to mention my time.”
“It’s a trade-off. We probably pay about the same, when you get down to it. But most of us like to shop.” Cally grinned, eyes twinkling.
“Leisure. The amount you have is unheard of on Adenast. Converted for differences in reckoning time, my schedule would work out to about ninety hours a week, Earth time. Some more, some less.”
“For how long at a stretch? That’s a crushing schedule,” Cally said.
“It is an ordinary schedule. The discipline reduces the need for sleep. And I include necessary muscle care periods in my schedule, of course. Human Sohon workers cannot maintain health without it.” She waved a casual hand at Cally, a deliberate gesture rather than a spontaneous one. “Really, I enjoy my work, Cally. It satisfies me a great deal to accrue honor to Clan O’Neal. I do regret that Father has never learned to understand. You are more often around Indowy than he is. Am I truly that alien to you?”
Her sister shrugged. “You’re… very Indowy. Your expressions aren’t very expressive.”
“How strange. To the Indowy we are so very human. And our expressions are stilled, of course, out of habit. We copy Indowy expressions, or those of the other races, to communicate, but they never become automatic. So when we Galactized are not actively using facial expressions, our faces tend to be still to avoid misunderstandings. And, of course, while working, the feelings must be still.”
“We should order.” Cally pressed the button for the discreet call light at the base of a small lion sculpture next to the sauce caddy. She didn’t recognize many Chinese ideograms — after so many languages on so many missions they ran together without a pre-mission review — but she did know those few that she could expect in these establishments, including the sequence that roughly translated, “Press for service.”
“What are you going to eat?”
“I thought I’d try the crispy-skin duck, and I love hot and sour soup. Ooh. And they have shrimp spring rolls.”
“You have not been here before?”
“No, this is a treat for me.” Cally smiled. “What are you going to have?”
“The Buddha’s delight looks appropriate. And I will have to ask the waiter which soups do not have meat. I can order my spring roll vegetarian, can I not?”
“There’re other vegetarian choices on the back of the menu, so you don’t need to feel locked in to any one thing.”
“I noticed. I chose what I like.” Her smile was slow, and obviously thought about, but it did reach her eyes.
“So how do you see me?” Cally couldn’t help but ask. Seeing Michelle from her own point of view had been… enlightening.
“Like the rest of our clan. You are so aggressively human that at times I can not imagine how the Indowy who live on your base avoid fleeing in distress. You do not actually eat meat in front of them, I hope?”
“They don’t come to the cafeteria. And we learn lists of expressions not to do when they’re around.”
“Yes, but I doubt any of you understand how difficult it must still be for the Indowy who live among you. Each of them perforce becomes an expert in a very difficult branch of xenopsychology. And those who raise their children on your base must be very apprehensive and very brave, to risk the lifelong social functionality of their offspring. I have seen the reports. Most of them are almost pathological loners, by Indowy norms.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way. I suppose xenopsych is hard for everyone,” Cally conceded. “Now, about this mission… The leadership wants more evidence and more information before committing us to the mission.”
“The purpose and the pay are not sufficient?”
“It’s political. The risks are, for various reasons, greater than just the loss of our team if the mission goes to hell on us. They want some hard evidence. Sorry about that, but there it is. Think convincing Indowy.”
“I had made a projection of the possible complications, and anticipated your request. I would have preferred a better price and wished to keep my request simple. I think I can help you get what you need while relieving some of the political concerns.” The mentat lifted her hand to reveal a data cube. It could have just been sleight of hand, but Cally suspected “real” magic.