Thorns by Robert Silverberg

Author:Robert Silverberg [Silverberg, Robert]
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: sf
Published: 2010-10-28T22:00:00+00:00

"Eighty-two," Aoudad said to the elevator's monitor-plate.

"Is it a big room?" Lona asked.

"It's a suite," said Aoudad. "It's lots of rooms."

There were seven rooms altogether. A cluster of bedrooms, a kitchen, a lounging room, and a large conference room in which the representatives of the press would later gather. At Burris's quiet request, he and Lona had been given adjoining bedrooms. There was nothing physical between them yet. Burris knew that the longer he waited, the more difficult it would be, and yet he held back. He could not judge the depth of her feelings, and at this point he had grave doubts about his own.

Chalk had spared no expense to get them these accommodations. It was a lavish suite, hung with outworld draperies that throbbed and flickered with inner light. The spun-glass ornaments on the table, warmed in the hand, would sing sweet melodies. They were costly. The bed in his room was wide enough to hold a regiment. Hers was round and revolved at the touch of a switch. There were mirrors in the bedroom ceilings. At an adjustment, they contorted into diamond facets; at another, they became splintered shards; at another, they provided a steady reflection, larger and sharper than life. They could also be opaqued. Burris did not doubt that the rooms could play other tricks as well.

"Dinner tonight is in the Galactic Room," Aoudad announced. "You'll hold a press conference at eleven tomorrow morning. You meet with Chalk in the afternoon. The following morning you leave for the Pole."

"Splendid." Burris sat.

"Shall I have a doctor up to look at the leg?"

"It won't be necessary."

"I'll be back in an hour and a half to escort you to dinner. You'll find clothes in the closets."

Aoudad took his leave.

Lena's eyes were shining. She was in wonderland. Burris himself, not easily impressed by luxury, was at least interested in the extent of the comforts. He smiled at her. Her glow deepened. He winked.

"Let's look around again," she murmured.

They toured the suite. Her room, his, the kitchen. She touched the program node of the food bank. "We could eat here tonight," he suggested.

"If you prefer, we can get everything we need."

"Let's go out, though."

"Of course."

He did not need to shave, nor even to wash: small mercies of his new skin. But Lona was more nearly human. He left her in her room, staring at the vibraspray mounted in its cubicle. Its control panel was nearly as complex as that of a starship. Well, let her play with it.

He inspected his wardrobe.

They had stocked him as though he were going to be the star of a tridim drama. On one shelf were some twenty sprayon cans, each with its bright portrayal of its contents. In this one, green dinner jacket and lustrous purple-threaded tunic. In this, a single flowing robe decked with self-generating light. Here, a gaudy peacock thing with epaulets and jutting ribs. His own tastes ran to simpler designs, even to more conventional materials. Linen, cotton, the ancient fabrics. But his private tastes did not govern this enterprise.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.