“I wanted to go, and since I can’t pay fare. . . .”
“You wouldn’t have had to!” Cloud interrupted. “If you lost your money aboard that ship, the Patrol would take you anywhere. . . .”
“Oh, I didn’t mean that.” She dipped into her belt-bag and held out for the man’s inspection a book of Travelers’ Cheques good for fifty thousand G-P credits! “I wanted to continue with you, and I knew this wasn’t a passenger ship. I can be useful—who do you think lined up that translation relay?—and besides, I can work. I can cook—keep house—and I can learn any other job fast. You believe me?”
Cloud looked at her. She was as tall as he was, and heavier; stronger and faster. “Yes, you can work, if you want to, and I think you would. But you haven’t said why you want to go along.”
“Mostly because it’s the best chance I’ll ever have to learn English. I went to Tellus once before to learn it—but there are too many Vegians there. Young Vegians, like me, like to play too much. You know?”
“I’ve heard so. But teachers, courses. . . ?”
“I need neither teachers nor courses. What I need is what you have in your library—solid English.”
“QX. I’ll reserve judgment on you, too. Now let’s hear what the Tomingan has to say. What’s her name?”
“You’d be surprised!” Vesta giggled in glee. “Literally translated, it’s ‘Little flower of spring, dwelling bashfully by the brook’s damply sweet brink.’ And that’s an exact transliteration, so help me—believe it or not!”
“I’ll take your word for it. What shall we call her?”