"Susie, want to dig some vines?" But Sears halted in the act of climbing her neck. Spearman had joined them, with a good hunter's quiet.
"You really have something there." Spearman was cordial and flushed. "Pygmies still make the best wine. Ours is no damn good, yet."
"Meant to ask how the last turned out."
"Needs ripening, like everything else."
"In fact," said Paul, "you're slightly plastered."
"But slightly." Ed grinned. "How if I climb on one of those?"
Sears was doubtful. "Have to get acquainted first. Mister Smith over there—he shook me off the first time. Not rough—just wasn't ready."
"They pull vines at command? You can steer 'em?"
"Sure. If they like you. Knee pressure."
"Abara's good?"