Seeing the number of kya who were staring at him, Ray strained to phrase himself as grammatically as possible. “Having done nothing wrong, they have no basis for it. Hearing all this, I think it’s a mistake. Being concerned about humanity’s image, it’s natural that they’d react so strongly, even to a misunderstanding. Have some knotvine?”
Elizabeth seemed puzzled by his mild reaction, but she dipped her fingers into the bowl and took some of the food. The incident seemed to pass without drawing further interest from the kya—although, Ray noticed, Ghorf stayed on the other side of the dining floor for the rest of the evening.
“I thought about saying something strong,” Ray said later, after they had left the restaurant. It was a warm night, and he and Elizabeth had decided to walk the two miles back to the dorm. Kya lacked a moon, but the city lights provided a mild neon glow for walking. “But I remembered how Zelk reacted to the way Faber shoved me. The kya are a herd people, and they hate the idea of a split in the herd.”
“So you tried to act conciliatory?” Elizabeth wondered.
“I tried to act like a kya might,” Ray said. “Like there wasn’t a real problem. Word of this is going to get around, and I don’t want anyone thinking I’m so alien they can’t do business with me.”
“That’s good thinking,” Elizabeth said. “But I doubt that woman made a scene just for fun. She’s up to something.”
“The embassy wants to put me out of business,” Ray said. “The UN is afraid that I could do irreparable harm to the kya by giving them things—information, technology, whatever—before they’re ready to handle it.”
“Do you believe them?” Elizabeth asked.
“I don’t know,” Ray admitted. “It sounds reasonable, and God knows there are plenty of cases where people meant to do well and made a real mess.”
“I know.” She looked thoughtful. “Nobody can predict all the consequences of their actions, and if you try to do only harmless things, you’ll paralyze yourself. If something does go wrong because of you, all you can do is try to fix it.”
“I suppose so.” Then, noting that it was a warm and pleasant night, and that he had promised to show Elizabeth a few moves, he decided to investigate the consequences of some more interesting actions.
The grades for the semester’s first batch of tests were available two days after the last paper was handed in. Feeling like a condemned criminal who has only a vague hope of receiving a last-minute pardon, Ray went to Vrekle to see if three weeks of studying had had any lasting effect on Faber.
His notepad told him that Faber was in the dorm—as was Elizabeth, who should have been attending a world (kya) history class. Puzzled, Ray went to her room and tapped on the door. “Elizabeth?”
“Gargh.” The door opened. She stood there in her bathrobe, looking haggard and sleepless. “Oh. Hi. ’mon in.”
Ray blinked. “Are you OK?”
“Gagh.” She plopped down on the bed. “I’ve got a case of Proxmire’s Revenge that won’t quit.”
“What’s that?”
“What it sounds like.” She grimaced slightly. “I can identify some allergens by what they do to me. This feels like a milk allergy, except I can’t figure out how it happened. I always keep my food away from everyone else’s.”
“When did it start?” Ray asked.
“Yesterday afternoon.” She rubbed her eyes groggily. “ ’Bout a half-hour after we said good-bye...” She raised her head and peered at him. “What did you have for lunch yesterday?”
He shrugged. “Kya stuff. And some ice cream for dessert.”
“And then you gave me a kiss that made the Guinness Book of World Records,” she said.
“You’re allergic to me?” Ray asked, startled.
“No, to the ice cream. It only takes a little milk-sugar to set me off... and I thought you tasted awfully sweet.”
“I didn’t know you were that sensitive. I’m sorry.”
“ ’Sall right.” She managed a rickety grin. “It was worth it. You’re here to see Reek Hard?”
“Well, him, too,” Ray said. “I wanted to find out if he passed his tests.”
“Quit crossing your fingers, the creep made it—” She shook her head. “Sorry, Ray. Cramps always turn me into a bitch.” She grimaced again. “Had to cancel everything today.”
“That’s too bad. I was looking forward to taking you out to dinner.”
“I’ll be OK by tonight. Milk-sugar allergy clears up pretty fast.” She sat up and rubbed her temples. “How’s the business?”
“Not bad. Moskva Mnogophermaya sent me another mail fax yesterday. They made a good offer, and I’m going to advise Ghorf to accept.”
“Good.”
He nodded. “I’ll pick up a nice piece of change, which ought to tick off Nyquist. Say,” he went on, “who was Proxmire?”
“Huh? Oh.” Elizabeth shook her head again. “I’m not sure. I think he was the scientist who figured out that milk causes a certain type of allergy.”
That sounded reasonable to Ray. “Hell of a thing to be remembered for...” His voice trailed off as Elizabeth rose from the bed and lurched out of the room. Ray looked into the hall, and saw her vanish into the communal bathroom.
Faber was standing in the hallway. “Damned skinny broad,” he muttered, not noticing Ray. “Been hogging the can all day.” Then he saw Ray. “You’re wasting your time with her, Bennett. She doesn’t eat because she doesn’t like sex. That’s psychology.”
Ray looked at him in disdain; he had thought Faber’s experience with knotvine would have given him some empathy. “Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”
“I’m kinda hung over,” Faber said, and belched. “Got my grades yesterday. Passed everything, so I can stop wasting time in class.”
“That’s what you think,” Ray said. “Cutting classes will get you in as much trouble as bombing a test.”
Faber glared at him and said words which approximated “You’re kidding me.”
“That’s how they do things here,” Ray said. “Clean up and get to your class.”
Faber kept glaring. “What are you, my guardian angel?”
“Think of me as a fallen angel,” Ray suggested. When he saw that Faber had missed his meaning he went on, “Either keep working, or learn to like what you’ll find in the kya version of Playboy.”
“Ack!” Faber retreated into his room.
Ray left the dorm and went home. He had lunch, then placed a phone call. “Easthills Combine,” a kya answered over the static-scratched wires.
“This is Ray Bennett. Calling now, I have good news for Ghorf. That being so, may I speak with him?”
“One moment.” After some clickings and quiet background gronkings, a new voice came on the line. “Ghorf speaking.”
“Ray Bennett. Moskva Mnogophermaya just sent me a fax. They’ve made a very good offer. That being so, I’d like to come to your office and discuss the terms.”
“No, no, you needn’t trouble yourself,” Ghorf said. “Working as well as you do, you can handle everything.”
“As you say.” As Ray hung up he wondered what was going on. Earth or Kya, it was strange for a highly-placed executive to leave the details of a big contract in somebody else’s hands. He hoped it was a sign of Ghorf’s trust in him ... but now that he thought of it, he hadn’t been face-to-face with Ghorf since their last encounter in the restaurant, several weeks ago. The executive seemed to be avoiding him. In light of the embassy’s attempt to poison his good name, that thought gave Ray qualms.
The Garrett P. Serviss entered Kya orbit and sent down a passenger shuttle three days before the first game of the bagdrag season. On the evening of the landing Ray, Elizabeth, and Dean Zelk went to Zgorch Aerodrome to greet the delegation from GSN. “This being important to him, I’m surprised Vapor didn’t turn out,” Zelk said as the shuttle landed.