It occurred to Ravna that after a lifetime of reading romantic fiction,
复件 (93) air max1, she had run into her first hero. It was after 02:30 when they left The Wandering Company. The sun would be rising across the bow horizon in less than five hours. The two Skroderiders came outside to see them off. Blueshell had switched back to Samnorsk to regale Ravna with a story of his last visit to Sjandra Kei -- and remind her to ask about the refugee ship. The Skroderiders dwindled beneath them as Ravna and Pham rose into the thinning air and headed toward the residential towers. The two humans didn't say anything for a couple of minutes. It was even possible that Pham Nuwen was impressed by the view. They were passing over gaps in the brightly lit Docks, places where they could see through the parks and concourses to the surface of Groundside a thousand kilometers below. The clouds there were whorls of dark on dark. Ravna's residence was at the outer edge of the Docks. Here the air fountains were of no use; her apartment tower rose into frank vacuum. They glided down to her balcony, trading their suits' atmosphere for the apartment's. Ravna's mouth was leading a life of its own,
复件 (60) air max1, explaining how the residence was what she'd been assigned when she worked at the archive, that it is was nothing compared to her new office. Pham Nuwen nodded, quiet-faced. There were none of the smart remarks of their earlier tours. She babbled on, and then they were inside and.... She shut up, and they just looked at each other. In a way, she'd wanted this clown ever since Grondr's silly animation. But it wasn't till this evening at The Wandering Company that she'd felt right about bringing him home with her. "Well, I, uh ..." So. Ravna, the ravening princess. Where is your glib tongue now? She settled for reaching out, putting her hand on his. Pham Nuwen smiled back, shy too, by the Powers! "I think you have a nice place,
复件 (95) air max1," he said. "I've decorated it Techno-Primitive. Being stuck at the edge of the Docks has its points: The natural view isn't messed up by city lights. Here,
复件 (48) air max1, I'll show you." She doused the lights and pulled the curtains aside. The window was a natural transparency,
复件 (67) air max1,
Plyometric Cardio Circuit, looking out from the edge of the Docks. The view tonight should be terrific. On the ride from The Company, the sky had been awfully dark. The in-system factories must be off line or hidden behind Groundside. Even ship traffic seemed sparse. She went back to stand by Pham. The window was a vague rectangle across her vision. "You have to wait a minute for your eyes to adjust. There's no amplification at all." The curve of Groundside was clear now, clouds with occasional pricks of light. She slipped her arm across his back, and after a moment felt his across her shoulders. She'd guessed right: tonight, the Galaxy owned the sky. It was a sight that Vrinimi old hands happily ignored. For Ravna, it was the most beautiful thing about Relay. Without enhancement, the light was faint. Twenty thousand light-years is a long, long way. At first there was just a suggestion of mist, and an occasional star. As her eyes adapted, the mist took shape, curving arcs, some places brighter, some dimmer. A minute more and ... there were knots in the mist ... there were streaks of utter black that separated the curving arms ... complexity on complexity, twisting toward the pale hub that was the Core. Maelstrom. Whirlpool. Frozen, still, across half the sky. She heard Pham's breath catch in his throat. He said something, sing-song syllables that could not have been Trisk, and certainly not Samnorsk. "All my life I lived in a tiny clump of that. And I thought I was a master of space.
