145

“I thought they were hairy,” she said. “More like fur.”

His face changed slightly; a glimmer of respect came into the cold blue eyes.

“The underfiir’s sometimes used, but it’s not considered high quality. The tanning process removes the hair.”

“Mmm.’ Lunzie made herself touch the seat again, though she wished she didn’t have to sit on it. “Is it all this color? Can it be dyed?”

Contempt had given way now to real respect. His voice relaxed as he became informative.

“Most of it’s easily tanned this color; some is naturally black. It’s commonly dyed for clothing. But if you dye upholstery, it’s likely to come off on the person sitting on it.”

“Clothing? I’d think it would be uncomfortable, compared to cloth.” Lunzie gave herself points for the unconcerned tone of voice, the casual glance out the tinted window.

“No, ma’am. As boots, now,” and he indicated his own shining boots. “They’re hard to keep polished, but they don’t make your feet sweat as bad.’

Lunzie thought of the way her feet felt in the special padded boots she wore most of the day. By evening, it was as if she stood in a puddle. Of course it was barbaric, wearing the skins of dead sentient creatures. But if you were going to eat them, you might as well use tfie rest of them, she supposed.

“Less frostbite,” the man was saying now, still extolling the virtues of “leather” over the usual synthetic materials.

Outside the vehicle, an icy wind buffeted them with chunks of ice. Lunzie could see little through the windows; the dim shapes of unfamiliar buildings, none very tall. Little vehicular traffic: in feet, little sign of anyone ebe on the streets. Lunzie presumed that most people used the underground walkways and slideways she and Zebara had used their two previous meetings.

“The ride takes more than an hour,” the escort said. “You might as well relax.” He was smirking again, though not quite so offensively as before.

146  

Lun/.ie wracked her brain to think of some harmless topic of conversation. Nothing was harmless with a heavyworlder. But surely it couldn’t hurt to ask his name.

“I’m sorry,” she began politely, “but I don’t know what your insignia means, nor what your name is.”

The smirk turned wolfish. “I doubt you’d really want to know. But my rank would translate in your Fleet to major. I’m not at liberty to disclose my name.”

So much for that. Lunzie did not miss the significance of “your Fleet.” She did not want to think what “not at liberty to disclose my name” might mean.

Did Zebara not trust her, after all? Or was he planning to turn her over to another branch of his organization and wanted to keep himself in the clear?

Time passed, marked off only by the slithering and crunching of the vehicle’s wheels on icy roadway.

“The Director said he knew you many years ago. Is that true?” There could be no harm in answering a question to which so many knew the answer.

“Yes, over forty years ago.”

“A long time. Many things have changed here in forty years.”

“I’m sure of it,” Lunzie said.

“I was not yet born when the Director knew you.” The escort said that as if his own birth had been the most significant change in those decades. Lunzie stifled a snort of amusement. If he still thought he was that important, he wouldn’t have much humor. “I have been in his department for only eight years.” Pride showed there, too, and a touch of something that might have been affection. “He is a remarkable man, the Director. Worthy of great loyalty.”

Lunzie said nothing; it didn’t seem needed.

“We need men like him at the top. It saddens me that he has lost strength this past year. He will not say, but I have heard that the doctors are telling him the snow is falling.” The man stared at her, obviously hoping she knew more, and would tell it. She fixed on the figure of speech.

“Snow is falling? Is this how you say sickness?”