It is the world of your birth.It is the world of your birth." She was right, of course. It bothered me that it was that obvious, but then I had asked that my pilot and security companion (I smiled at that word, 'companion'; she had become more than that over the course of the trip) be one of the best, and the best security people are by nature observant. K'meh had so far proven to be observant in everything she did. She was also excruciatingly dedicated to her job. I told her that if the time ever came for her to be my body shield, that she was to ignore orders and let me take the damn bullet; I regarded myself as no more important than she. I dozed on the trip until the chime in the car alerted me that we were approaching our destination. I took manual control, easing the car off the Interstate for another hour-long drive through gently rolling hills and green forested lands hidden after nightfall. We passed a sign reading "Clarke's Lake Recreation Area," and I looked around, waiting to see a sign for lodging available. After nearly two centuries of self-imposed isolation from Terran culture, my knowledge of how things were done around here hadn't become as rusty as I had feared. A 'VACANCY' sign presented itself, and I turned into the parking lot, banking the fusion plant down and turning off the major electric systems. The motor came to a soft whine-down. The door opened easily enough as I stepped out, groaning at even so short a trip as the past four hours, mentally dreading the 120-hour trip back home in the Kangas, a week from now. I had two days free before I had to return to New York, and then again to Geneva, and I fully intended to spend at least one day here, in the middle of nowhere. Finding the innkeeper was no easy task; it was, after all, three in the morning here, and the innkeeper was sound asleep. |