forged documents and currency, and pieces of Federation uniforms for the illegal impersonation of law enforcement personnel.
Dancers, jugglers, acrobats, fire eaters, magicians, people who could create a custom hologram on the spot, strolling interpreters to help with any possible language barriers and others to write letters of business or to prospective mates for a price. Some would even compose and read literary creations amid the bustling crowds.
Uncle Joh had promised to take Khorii and Elviiz with him during their visit to Maganos Moonbase, which was close to Kezdet. Khorii had been greatly looking forward to it.
What a disappointment!
The flitter approached vast fields of what could have been Linyaari pavilions, tentlike structures but in many sizes, shapes, and colors. Most were shuttered, many were ripped or partly disassembled. Weeds grew waist high among them, all but obscuring the paths of loose gravel connecting them. The Linyaari presence had long ago dissipated any lingering odors. Hillocks here and there, Neeva told her, were where beasts stricken by the disease had been buried where they fell. Walking through the maze of weeds, rickety tables, splintered poles, and ripped tents, Khorii felt a great sadness but saw none of the blue plague dots dancing before her eyes.
“I believe it would be safe to graze here,” she said tentatively.
“That would be a great help for our people still working here,” Khaari said. “We could hardly decontaminate every specimen of plant life growing here, and there are so few fertile areas on this world.”
The live part of the market now was a place where survivors who had been separated from loved ones at the time the plague struck came seeking word of them. A huge tent contained wall after wall of photographs of the known dead on one side, and those being sought by survivors on the other. Children circulated among the crowd of other children and elders with handheld units linking to a central computer bank. It contained data collected by Liriili’s people cataloging the dead by photograph, location, and identifying information or possessions with them when the bodies were collected. In most cases, it also had information as to where the bodies were buried.
“The children helping the others are very brave,” Khorii remarked.
“Yes they are. Many seem to find some solace for their own pain in helping others, even if the information they provide is not always what the seeker wished.”
“I see no evidence of plague here,” Khorii said at last, and they left the tent, exiting into another part of the market. In this section, trade had resumed as briskly if not as merrily as Uncle Joh had described.
Neeva smiled at her, reading her interest. “Perhaps you would like to search this area alone, Khorii, while we return to the tent and help comfort the grief-stricken.”
Khorii agreed to this readily, if not as enthusiastically as she might have done in a preplague market.
If the vendors were fewer, the goods were still quite numerous, and she wondered how much had been looted from decontaminated houses. Or perhaps not decontaminated, once some individuals had realized that they were immune to the disease. She must examine the merchandise closely.
Many of the vendors were quite old, and she could tell that some were doing exactly the same thing they had done before the plague.
“Hey, girlie! Have I got a deal for you! Bring that cute little horn of yours over here and be the first kid of your species to have one of these very special, rare, and wonderful items just in from Newcastle Colony.”
“What items?” she asked. “How did they get here?”
The old man tapped a large wart on the side of his red-veined nose, “Ah, that’s for me to know and you to find out. Come closer, that’s it, I won’t bite,” he said, though he was showing lots of rotting and blackened teeth. “You’re gonna love these.”
He beckoned her nearer and nearer, to come
Dancers, jugglers, acrobats, fire eaters, magicians, people who could create a custom hologram on the spot, strolling interpreters to help with any possible language barriers and others to write letters of business or to prospective mates for a price. Some would even compose and read literary creations amid the bustling crowds.
Uncle Joh had promised to take Khorii and Elviiz with him during their visit to Maganos Moonbase, which was close to Kezdet. Khorii had been greatly looking forward to it.
What a disappointment!
The flitter approached vast fields of what could have been Linyaari pavilions, tentlike structures but in many sizes, shapes, and colors. Most were shuttered, many were ripped or partly disassembled. Weeds grew waist high among them, all but obscuring the paths of loose gravel connecting them. The Linyaari presence had long ago dissipated any lingering odors. Hillocks here and there, Neeva told her, were where beasts stricken by the disease had been buried where they fell. Walking through the maze of weeds, rickety tables, splintered poles, and ripped tents, Khorii felt a great sadness but saw none of the blue plague dots dancing before her eyes.
“I believe it would be safe to graze here,” she said tentatively.
“That would be a great help for our people still working here,” Khaari said. “We could hardly decontaminate every specimen of plant life growing here, and there are so few fertile areas on this world.”
The live part of the market now was a place where survivors who had been separated from loved ones at the time the plague struck came seeking word of them. A huge tent contained wall after wall of photographs of the known dead on one side, and those being sought by survivors on the other. Children circulated among the crowd of other children and elders with handheld units linking to a central computer bank. It contained data collected by Liriili’s people cataloging the dead by photograph, location, and identifying information or possessions with them when the bodies were collected. In most cases, it also had information as to where the bodies were buried.
“The children helping the others are very brave,” Khorii remarked.
“Yes they are. Many seem to find some solace for their own pain in helping others, even if the information they provide is not always what the seeker wished.”
“I see no evidence of plague here,” Khorii said at last, and they left the tent, exiting into another part of the market. In this section, trade had resumed as briskly if not as merrily as Uncle Joh had described.
Neeva smiled at her, reading her interest. “Perhaps you would like to search this area alone, Khorii, while we return to the tent and help comfort the grief-stricken.”
Khorii agreed to this readily, if not as enthusiastically as she might have done in a preplague market.
If the vendors were fewer, the goods were still quite numerous, and she wondered how much had been looted from decontaminated houses. Or perhaps not decontaminated, once some individuals had realized that they were immune to the disease. She must examine the merchandise closely.
Many of the vendors were quite old, and she could tell that some were doing exactly the same thing they had done before the plague.
“Hey, girlie! Have I got a deal for you! Bring that cute little horn of yours over here and be the first kid of your species to have one of these very special, rare, and wonderful items just in from Newcastle Colony.”
“What items?” she asked. “How did they get here?”
The old man tapped a large wart on the side of his red-veined nose, “Ah, that’s for me to know and you to find out. Come closer, that’s it, I won’t bite,” he said, though he was showing lots of rotting and blackened teeth. “You’re gonna love these.”
He beckoned her nearer and nearer, to come
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