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She was thinking I’d ditched her That’s what you always think when you’re alone That you’ll always be alone, and any present company is an aberration

Cold inside, I feign a sies, love No, a , the old limb, has been the black death of me today”

She pales and looks at my cane “Oh Jove, I’m sorry…was only a jest”

“You couldn’t know”

“You should have ed me I could have met you…”

“An old tinman’s rust should never jeopardize a lady’s enjoyment of an afternoon as splendid as this”

“You should have told me,” she says crossly “We don’t have to walk the park…” We’d planned to stroll the park and take a taxi to the wharf to see the water of the Sea of Serenity—an idea I couldn’t get her to drop But to go to the water, we’d have to cross through a security checkpoint, and checkpoints have advanced sensors and my Philippe credentials are hardly unimpeachable Say what you want about the Republic, whoever created their ID system was a razor-smart bastard

“We could find a café if that would be easier for you,” she says “Or rass?”

“No, the wharf would be lovely!”

“Philippe…” She crosses her arms Subborn little rabbit

“Well…only if you insist” I eh of relief “I believe you’ve savedache so Are you sure you don’t want to walk? I could grin and—”

“We’re having a picnic,” she concludes “And that’s the end of it”

“Then I insist on shopping with you, paying for everything, and escorting you properly as I do it Young Lyria…” I proffer hted by the courtlyshe must look in her new black jacket; she slips her arm in mine We cross the park, where lowColor children fly their kites through the twilight sky—slate blue stained with fingers of whorehouse pink—and ers on indiscreet lovers who lie in the deep shade The rabbit’s eyes seek out fae of a pond

In the h stalls of foods from four planets and ten continents Fatty strips of beef bubble over charcoal grills Seafood sietables, flash-frozen and shipped frolimmer wetly in clear plastic The air is soupy with the scent of cloves and Martian cu my mouth water We choose two foils of Pacific sweet fried cod, a plastic boith olives swi in oil, European Gruyère cheese wrapped in South American prosciutto and baked in a flaky pastry, and for dessert a pint of jasmine ice crearass and eat while watching the children’s kites bank in the sky

“I like watching them,” Lyria says about the children