Touchdown, Touchdown, Rah, Rah, Rah!

“I did,” Elizabeth said. “It’s the simplest math course—”

“I know you did it,” Faber said, chucking the book onto his bed. “But who needs math? I mean, if you really care what x-squared equals, why not ask an AI? That’s why we invented them. And why study poetry where the words don’t even rhyme, or this old language called Longvalley that they don’t even speak any more?”

“The purpose of education is to expand your mind,” Elizabeth said. “Maybe you’ll never need algebra or Longvalley in your life, but you will need your mind.”

“I like my mind the way it is,” Faber said. “And all this studying is cutting into my practice. I never had to study like this in Colorado.”

“This isn’t Colorado,” Ray said. “The rule here is that playing bagdrag is a reward for good grades.”

Faber grunted in disgust. “How can you get together a good team that way? Don’t these people know anything?”

Count to ten, Ray told himself, as in your 10 percent commission. “Have you been practicing?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’ve been getting in an hour or two every day,” Faber said. “Bagdrag is a mick, but if you and GSN want me to play good—” he jabbed a massive finger into Ray’s chest, “—you’d better cut me some slack with the books.”

Ray left the room with Elizabeth and went downstairs. “I can see why he likes his mind as it is,” Elizabeth said. “It’s obviously in mint condition.”

“I noticed,” Ray said bleakly. “You mentioned tutoring. Would that help?”

“It might,” Elizabeth said. “If we can get him to apply himself. And if we can find someone willing to work with him. Nobody here likes being around him. He thinks the boys are nerds and the girls are bimbos-in-waiting.”

“I was thinking of hiring some kya tutors,” Ray said.

“With his manners?”

“I guess not,” Ray said.

“Maybe we can work something out,” Elizabeth suggested. “Why don’t we discuss it over dinner? I know a good restaurant.”

* * *

The “good restaurant” turned out to be much like the airport cafeteria. The dining area was an open floor, where groups of kya wandered around with cups and small bowls. The buffet tables were larger than the one at the airport, however, with a wider selection of food, and a band that played what Ray assumed were hit tunes.

After Elizabeth gave Ray an enzyme pill she led him to one of the tables and helped him pick out a course. “We’ll come back for the second course when that’s done,” she said as she picked up a large glass of juice. “Don’t worry about sharing the bowl with me, and let me know when you’re thirsty. And if someone walks up and takes a bite from our bowl, talk to him. Sharing food is one way they introduce themselves.”

“OK,” Ray said reluctantly. He told himself it would be similar to dining in a Japanese restaurant—not that he had ever done that. “How often do you come here?” he asked, as they moved out onto the floor.

“All the time,” she said, scooping some shredded leaves from the bowl. “The food’s great, there’s always someone interesting here, and the band is the tops. Now try the knotvine.”

Ray did so, and found that it tasted like chocolate, only better. He was about to take more when a kya shuffled up to him and plucked some shredded knotvine from his bowl. “Rabenit, isn’t it?” he asked. His fur was thick and fluffy, a handsome thing by kya standards. “Talking with Dean Zelk, she told me I couldn’t mistake your scent.”

“Call me ‘Ray,’” Ray said, and introduced Elizabeth. “Always glad to meet a friend of the dean’s.”

“Likewise,” the kya said. “I’m Ghorf, of the Easthills Combine. Dining here all the time, I don’t believe I’ve scented you here before.”

“Elizabeth is introducing me to kya cuisine,” Ray said. Then, recognizing a business opportunity when he saw one, he went on, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“A good deal, I hope. Hold your breath if I’m being rude, but is it true you’re not part of the Dirt embassy?”

Ray smiled, although he wished the kya wouldn’t be so literal about translating “Earth” into their language. “It’s true.”

The kya sniffed in delight. “Dining with Zelk the other night, she mentioned that I might be able to hire human agronomists through you. Being a farming organization, the Combine is always looking for ways to improve crop yields. Reading about Dirtly agriculture, I’ve heard you people do fantastic things with your sciences. Naturally we’ll pay well.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Ray said. “It might be expensive, but I’m sure there are some people who would like to work here.”

Ghorf sniffed in delight. “Not wishing to smell rude, I still have to say that your embassy wasn’t this cooperative.”

“I understand.” Ray agreed to visit Ghorf s office to learn more about his needs, and then the kya wandered off among the other diners. As he left his muzzle twitched mightily—in pleasure, Ray hoped.

Elizabeth offered Ray a drink from her cup. “They like doing business over meals,” she said. “Maybe that’s why the embassy doesn’t want to sell you any pills.”