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  "You will not? But why? Would not your people be glad to hear about lifestyles on other planets?" he asked, obviously puzzled. He gestured to the viewing window. Melanie could see they had already docked. "There, did not I say we would be here in no time at all."

  "Yes, you did." She sat forward, preparing to rise. "As for the people on Earth welcoming news of Amaryllis, they would put me in a straight-jacket and send me to a lunatic asylum if I told them I’d visited another planet. Earth people view those who make claims of meeting extra-terrestrials as cranks."

  "They would disbelieve you?" His warm hand enclosed her elbow as he led her out of the craft.

  "No doubt about it. I will have to keep my experiences to myself."

  "What a very strange, immature attitude," he commented.

  Melanie shrugged. "We’ve already concluded Earth dwellers are light years behind you."

  She looked about. The terminal was as huge as a football field, and as high as a ten-story block of apartments. People, more good-looking types, walked sedately about, going about their business in a mannerly, serious order. The ceiling, far above them, was transparent, and the walls made of the same plain gray stuff, which looked like steel.

  Rows of benches, lined up about five feet apart, stretched for at least a hundred feet along the center of the building. Some were occupied by people sitting with soldier-like precision, small boxes on their laps or at their feet. Some used a panel of commodity supply buttons to get food, which they took to the benches to eat. Everyone looked so similar it was eerie. Nobody laughed, there was no music, and not much in the way of conversation going on. Still, what was the need of speech when you could read your neighbor’s mind?

  Melanie had seen nothing exchanged in payment. "What do you use for money here?"

  "Money?" Reve looked at her for a moment. He was probing her mind. Something as impersonal as cash didn’t worry her though. Only when her thoughts veered to his body or sexual prowess did she get indignant.

  His lips quirked and she shot him a furious glance. He’d picked up on her small idea in an instant.

  "I apologize," he murmured. "As for money, we discarded such archaic methods of trade megnums ago. The greed and thirst for power such a commodity brings in its wake is something we would find abhorrent on Amaryllis."

  "You could be right," she agreed readily. "Money, and the desire to accumulate it, brings more strife to so many lives than anything else on Earth. If not for the greed of some men, Chris would still be alive."

  Melanie shuddered, and Reve touched her arm and ran his finger up and down it until the hairs stood on end. "And we would never have met." There was a light in his eyes, and she had no idea what it meant. Perhaps he was as taken with her as she was by him.

  Melanie had to admit that perhaps it had been worth going through all the horror she’d endured, just for the pleasure she’d experienced in his arms during that incredible dream.

  He nodded, but said nothing, although he must have seen all her thoughts. With a start she realized she was getting used to the strangeness of this phenomenon. If only she could learn to read him so easily.

  Eight

  Melanie returned her gaze to the people around her. It was weird how all the young men had the same copper-hued hair as Reve. The hair of the older men seemed to be gray. Young women, who all seemed to be titian haired, outnumbered the older females, who possessed silver tresses.

  Everyone was tall, slim and well built--their facial features nigh on perfect. Not only was it more than peculiar. It was downright scary. No entire population could be so attractive, so fit looking and well proportioned.

  "Don’t you have any malformed or ugly Amaryllisans?" she turned to ask Reve, who watched her with a similar guarded expression.

  "We found cures for all the sicknesses causing deformity megnums ago," he said haughtily. "There is no depravity, no disease of the mind."

  A horrible thought returned. "You don’t do away with babies born imperfect, do you?" Her voice shook slightly. What if they killed them off the minute they saw there was something wrong with them?

  A small shake of the head showed he’d read her thoughts and was amazed she should think such a thing. "I cannot recall the last recorded birth where the child was not a perfect specimen. It must have been many megnums ago, and lost in the archives, if there ever was such an occurrence."

  Melanie made a small sound of disgust. "There you go again. A baby isn’t a specimen, it’s a miracle."

  "Miracle? I cannot perceive the meaning of this word."

  "No, I guess you wouldn’t." Melanie sighed. He seemed to have grown bored by the conversation.

  A bank of screens showed what she presumed was times of departure and arrival of commuter craft. "What do all those figures mean?" She pointed as the numbers scrolled over.

  "They are the flight patterns of the ships continually circling the planet," he explained. "Ships smaller than the Starship Victus I command." He took her by the arm. "Come, we will take the watercraft to my base home. Then I will give you a tour and introduce you to my parents and others."

  They went down a gentle incline. Sloping windows along each side let in the light. The sky was free of clouds, but gray in color, murky. "Doesn’t it ever rain during the day?" she asked.

  "No." He reaffirmed what she had learnt on the journey. "The atmospheric temperature controls the clouds so they only discharge their liquid after dark. Then it grows unbearably cold outside. We stay in our temperature-controlled constructions after nightfall. I advise you to do the same."

  "Oh, I’m sure I will. I have no desire to freeze to death. I come from a country on Earth where the climate is warmer than some other places."

  A slight breeze blew across the water, sent ripples over its verdant surface and reminded her vaguely of a spring day on Sydney Harbor. A twang of homesickness pulled at her again.

  "On Amaryllis the daytime temperature never varies," Reve said as he tapped in a code on a keyboard and they passed through a door that slid open.

  Three women and a man walked behind them down another slight slope and with them into the hovercraft, which reminded her of a large bubble, since it was all see-through. The other passengers ignored them and sat silently at the opposite end of the craft on the well-padded seats running along its sides, which were covered in the bland fabric which seemed to be the only furnishing material used here.

  Melanie smiled at the nearest women, but her expression remained impassive, although Melanie kept the smile on her face for a while in the hope it would invite some reaction.

  "They are being polite, and trying not to show too much interest," Reve remarked as he settled beside her.

  "Oh." She felt silly. Of course they wouldn’t stare at her openly. "It wouldn’t hurt them to smile now and then though."

  "It is not in their character." His mouth curved slightly.

  "Then why are you laughing at me?"

  "I thought you liked this thing I do with my mouth," he murmured.

  She fidgeted on the seat. He was far too perceptive for his own good.

  "How long will it take to reach your home?" she asked, changing the subject. His ego was already too large. She peered out of the transparent side.

  "A short time. These craft move very fast. There’s not a lot to see."

  "You’re dead right." The tower of the building they had just left loomed behind them--its blank walls rising up from the water like some discarded tin can floating there.

  Homesickness hit her in force then. How she missed the high buildings of Sydney, pined for the Opera house and Harbor Bridge, the beauty of the Harbor, and the green parklands near her home. Tourists and natives of Sydney admired the fabulous waterfront mansions overlooking the harbor. Never one to spend days just shopping, she nevertheless couldn’t conceive living in a world with no supermarkets or stores, boutiques or takeaways.

  Boring, that’s what it was here.

  "We have our mountains. I will take
you there," he said quietly.

  Melanie shrugged. "Seeing as you’re intruding on my thoughts again you can see how I miss my home."

  He lifted his hand to brush a strand of her hair back. The tender touch of his fingers made her tingle. "I cannot help it, I’m afraid. I can understand your feelings of longing for your home." He gave a gesture which encompassed the view. "Unfortunately we cannot alter the fact that with so much water there is not a lot of variety in the vista."

  "Was there ever any scenery to look at?" she asked. "Have your elders stories to tell of the days when there was more land and it was not covered by water?"

  "Oh yes, we have visual reminders in our archives of the days when only half the planet was beneath water. We will view them."

  "It’s sad really isn’t it?" Melanie felt sorry for people who, like King Canute, could do nothing to hold back the tide. Especially such an advanced culture which had obviously mastered so many other things. "Earth might be in the same predicament one day. We have global warming to worry about. Our icecaps are melting and the water levels are rising each year."

  "But you will doubtless have more than twenty megnums before the planet is covered by water." He looked pensive.

  "Oh yes. Surely one of your scientists could come up with a way to evaporate some of it. Your people should be able to think of a way to soak up some of this liquid."

  Reve smiled. "How do you suggest we do this? Ah, I see you have an idea. Sponges." He actually chuckled and Melanie gave him an indignant glare. But then she had to grin too.

  "All right, so it was a dumb idea, but it was the first thing springing to mind. If all your brainiest people got together I’m sure they should be able to come up with something. I know, what about building a giant water-carrying spacecraft to transport water to the other side of the universe?"

  "What an ingenious idea, Mel-aanie. Perhaps we could take it to a waterless planet. It is worth thinking about."

  "You’re having a laugh at my expense, aren’t you," she muttered.

  "Of course not," he argued, but the smile was still on his face.

  "Well, there’s always our moon," she suggested. "You couldn’t get much drier than that."

  "Hmm, we have dry planets nearer than Earth’s moon. But I cannot begin to imagine how many craft would be required. As fast as we transport it, the rain would replace the water in the oceans."

  "Good point." Melanie made a face at him. "Here’s another great idea. What about trying to evaporate some of it?"

  "Evaporate?" His look said he thought her barmy. "Come, we have arrived. We will discuss your admirable ideas later." Gracefully he rose, gesturing for her to precede him.

  The male passenger went before them. His hair was sparser than the other men’s, and there was what looked like a steel plate in the back of his head.

  "What’s that?" she whispered, as he walked ahead of them up the ramp.

  "What is what?" Reve asked, and she gave him a slight shove.

  "Lost your ability to see what I’m thinking all of a sudden?"

  Reve’s mouth tightened, and she thought he wasn’t going to answer. "He has had an operation. The shield is to protect his skull."

  They emerged into a reception lounge and she lost interest in the man as she looked about. This one was definitely more inviting than the main foyer where they’d boarded. Large shrubs, reminding her of tobacco plants, were clustered about in pots. Many colored flowers drooped from containers ranged in tiers high on the walls. Some had trumpet shaped blossoms; some were smooth and shiny. A faint tinkling noise drew her and Melanie looked up to where thousands of shards of some metallic stuff hung, like giant door chimes, above them. It was the closest she’d heard to music since arriving here.

  "Music?" Reve glanced at her.

  She was determined to try and not get riled by his thought-reading abilities. "Yes, I haven’t heard any form of music. Don’t you have instruments to play?"

  "We do not have these . . .instruments." He shook his head and stared hard at her. She could almost feel him probing her thought waves, and she turned away.

  People, still all very similar to each other, skimmed along on what looked like miniature surfboards. They moved at a rattling pace on the motorized skis, which weren’t much longer than the length of a foot and just wide enough to take both feet comfortably.

  "How do they manage to go so fast?" she turned to Reve to ask.

  "The excrement from the capirs is processed to provide fuel to drive these as well as other things," he said, smiling when she grimaced. "We waste nothing. Everything is re-used."

  She guessed he meant the Amaryllisans’ body waste was recycled too, but wasn’t up to going into that right now. Something else that struck her as mighty peculiar. She hadn’t seen any children yet.

  "Don’t the children come into these reception areas?" she queried.

  "Our minors stay in the communal houses from the age of what you would call five years until they reach one megnum. They are then mature and are sent to instruction houses for advanced training in whatever skill they choose. Only then do they mix freely with the rest of the population," he explained.

  "Well I never." In stunned disbelief she stared at him. "Do you mean there are no kids running around or enjoying the ordinary things in life until they graduate from these instruction houses?"

  "This is so. Surely you must have similar training establishments. Do not your young people have to train?"

  "Of course, but they aren’t shut up the whole time. We have holidays and term breaks on Earth. And the children only stay in school for a set amount of hours a day, then they mix with the community."

  "How strange!"

  "Strange? You think this strange? Let me tell you I think you’re way is much stranger. Don’t your kids get to enjoy their freedom at all? What about playing? Every child has to spend some time playing and using their imagination to invent things."

  "Our minors enjoy life in their communal homes." His haughtiness came back in force as he gave her a glare meant to intimidate. "My childhood was very happy. My mother taught me many things before I went to the communal house, then I was given a mentor of my own. Gargus brought me to the level of intelligence I have now."

  Melanie shook her head. "What a funny way of going on."

  "Funny? You find this amusing?"

  "No, funny in as peculiar. Still, I guess what you don’t know, you can’t miss."

  "Put your transporter on," he ordered, obviously tiring of her observations. "Let us be on our way." He took down two of the skiboards lined up in slots on the wall and put one on the floor by her feet. Kneeling before her he placed first one then the other of her feet firmly in the foot-sized grooves running along the middle. The sides of the board were sloped up to encase her boots.

  "Don’t I need to fasten it on?" she asked, looking down at the top of his head. The long hair had fallen forward, hiding his face. His hands were warm and firm on her ankles, sending a shaft of pleasure up her legs to pool in her lower body.

  "They need no clasps," he drawled, glancing up, the enigmatic glint back in his eyes. As if he knew exactly what his touch did to her. "A magnetic system seals the transporter to your footwear."

  "I see." She didn’t really, but the sooner she got his hands off her the better. Biting her lip she stared down at her feet while he stepped onto his ski.

  "Let your body relax and you will find it easy enough to control," he advised.

  "If you say so. I never was much good on skates as a kid."

  "Take my hand." Without waiting for her to obey, he linked his fingers with hers, his grip giving her confidence.

  "How do we get them to move?" Before the words were out she shot forward. "Oh my God!" she squealed as she wobbled.

  "Relax," he said again, gripping her fingers. "The motion of your body propels you forward. Small sensors in the board pick up the body’s intentions."

  "Wow." Breathlessly she lifted her head and concentrated
on going in a straight line.

  "You have it," he said, a smile in his voice.

  "They’re so easy to control. I feel as if I’ve used this thing all my life," she said with a grin. "I always wanted to learn to ski."

  "So now you can. Lean slightly forward," Reve ordered. Soon they were speeding across the reception hall. "Put just a bit more pressure on the ball of your foot."

  "Oh my!" Melanie was enjoying herself. For the first time since arriving here she felt totally in control of herself. "You’re right. They are easy to use."

  "Didn’t I tell you so?" His grin was as wide as hers.

  Leaving the hall they made their way along various corridors, all much the same as each other--the walls stark and gray. The ceilings were all transparent, the temperature moderate.

  "I can understand the need for these skis," she said. "There wouldn’t be enough room inside your buildings for any larger form of transport."

  He nodded, his hand still gripping hers.

  "What are those places?" she asked when they sped past closed doors, which looked like elevators, with lighted panels set in the wall by the side of them.

  "Mostly private residences. Some are offices or places of business." Reve nodded to some of the people who passed on skis and they acknowledged him in the same way, their eyes skittering away from Melanie. Trying to be polite, she surmised. She couldn’t imagine the people on Earth acting the same way. Already the army, navy and air force would be out watching, not to mention the scientists ready to pounce for experimental purposes.

  "What about shops and tradesmen?" She tried to keep her mind away from this subject. For all she knew he might have them watching her every move at this moment. Glancing his way she saw him shake his head. He appeared to be exasperated. "Don’t you have any sort of private enterprises?" It was strange not to see anybody strolling or children playing in groups.

  "No, there is no need for such in our society."

  Could she ever get used to such a sterile world, where there were no shopping malls, hairdressers, cinemas, markets, schools, playing fields, or child-minding centers?