She smiled faintly, ironically. "With your model spaceport. I hope you and your friends get to finish it."
"Of course we'll finish it," Tony said, surprised. "It's almost done." What did she mean?
The Pas-udeti woman hurried off before he could ask her. Tony was troubled and uncertain; more doubts filled him. After a moment he headed slowly into the lane that took him toward the residential section of the city. Past the stores and factories, to the place where his friends lived.
The group of Pas-udeti children eyed him silently as he approached. They had been playing in the shade of an immense hengelo, whose ancient branches drooped and swayed with the air currents pumped through the city. Now they sat unmoving.
"I didn't expect you today," B'prith said, in an expressionless voice.
Tony halted awkwardly, and his EEP did the same. "How are things?" he murmured.
"Fine."
"I got a ride part way."
"Fine."
Tony squatted down in the shade. None of the Pas children stirred. They were small, not as large as Terran children. Their shells had not hardened, had not turned dark and opaque, like horn. It gave them a soft, unformed appearance, but at the same time it lightened their load. They moved more easily than their elders; they could hop and skip around, still. But they were not skipping right now.