Free Fall of the White Ship Avatar by Brian Daley Page A

roster in the greenhouse if you require any service."
    "I'll be going through the household accounts," Callisto announced. Floyt, studying her closely, saw that her eyes were an even lighter shade of the eerie, miraculous blue than Tomasina's.
    Lord Marcus let out a yipe, skipping aside and nearly falling as his right shin was struck. Floyt gaped down at what had buffeted him, a wooly brown thing about the size of a Welsh corgi with layered giltfix on its horns and a dog collar set with ranks of gleaming, pea-size lava pearls around its solid little neck.
    Marcus had managed not to spill his drink, and now he set it aside, then stooped to pick up the dwarf bison that was still butting his leg. "How d'you like my little bonsai ?" He scratched the thing's shaggy back; it squirmed, tail flicking.
    "This is Larrup, old North American buffalo, bred from pure stock from Adam's Apple."
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    [Fitzhugh 3]-FALL OF THE WHITE SHIP AVATAR
    Floyt could only stare. The last American bison had died in the Second Breath, and he'd never expected to see a live one much less a gene-engineered miniature. Alacrity took a quick glance at Larrup and went back to studying Lord Marcus.
    Marcus handed Larrup into Callisto's lovely arms; she and Tomasina took their drinks and left together while Floyt stared at the identical derrieres wistfully, as Alacrity and Marcus exchanged calculating looks.
    "Clones?" Floyt asked in a low whisper, riveted on the callipygian grace.
    "Nah!" Lord Marcus yelled, worrying the food with his spatula once more. "Any dimwit could have some clones run up, and what would that reveal to him or her about human nature and the Universe?"
    Floyt was at a loss to tell. Perlez brandished the spatula at him—"Nothing!"—and resumed cooking.
    "No, I recruit my treasures based on an ideal of my own. How many such is our human race blessed with, out of all the planets we've populated? And of those, how many will consent to join my household?
    And then there's always the temptation to compromise my standards."
    "They look the same as when I was a kid," Alacrity piped up suddenly.
    "Yes; well. There's been a certain amount of turnover since then," Perlez admitted, and an uncomfortable silence flourished abruptly, except for the feverish cooking.
    "I feared the worst when I heard the latest news, boy," he said to Alacrity all at once. "I thought you niight've gone and gotten yourself hurt or tossed into the lockup somewhere, Jordy."
    Jordy, Floyt registered. He'd known from the first that Alacrity Fitzhugh was an alias. He'd always felt it impolite to ask, and Alacrity never offered to clarify. It was still a shock to hear. Jordy.
    "Oh, I got by all right," Alacrity was saying. "Had some help at the right time. Lord Marcus, this is my friend, Citizen Hobart Floyt, of Terra."
    Perlez spared Floyt a cordial half bow and a wave of the spatula. Floyt waved in answer and took another cautious sip of his depth charge.
    "Rather thought that's who you are," Perlez called to Floyt over his shoulder, bending over his wok again. "You two laddybucks raised some fuss, eh? Get ready now; here's something you'll like."
    Then he was handing them plates heaped with food, taking one for himself. The three sat there eating off a counter. They garnished with a bit of teriyaki sauce and dug in. The food was so good that for a moment Floyt almost lost track of what was being said.
    "All the arrangements are made, Jordan," Perlez was saying, "or should I call you Alacrity? I'll transfer file:///C|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry%20kruis...y%20-%20Fall%20of%20the%20White%20Ship%20Avatar.htm (40 of 242)23-2-2006 17:03:12
    [Fitzhugh 3]-FALL OF THE WHITE SHIP AVATAR
    the voting share to you whenever you like."
    "Alacrity's fine," Alacrity said, eating with great concentration. "And thanks."
    Lord Marcus savored his own cooking a