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A lone rider approached the city. He was wrapped in a dark, heavy traveller's my.funambol.com cloak and rode a tall, shaggy roan horse with a long nose and flat, vicious eyes.
.. But he was stretched out my.funambol.com on the bed, eyes closed, snoring lightly. CHAPTER 22 From the landing at the top of the stairs that led into the station's restaurant, the Gare my.funambol.com de Lyon looked like a frenetic zoo Stoner leaned both hands on the metal railing anc watched the people rushing to and fro, lining up at my.funambol.com the ticket windows, hauling luggage to the gates where the trains departed, knotting in little groups, running, gesticulating, anc talking, talking--always talking, my.funambol.com incessantly The noise was almost painful, and without letup A thousand voices all going at once Loudspeakers blaring announcements Vendors calling out their wares Even the my.funambol.com people sitting at the tables spread out around the foot of the ornate la belle epoque staircase did more talking than eating or drinking my.funambol.com A young couple embraced passionately at one of the gates, while the train--an aging TGV--thrummed with impatient power Stoner tried to guess which of the pair my.funambol.com would run to the train and which would stay behind It was the man who dashed out along the platform The woman waved to my.funambol.com him briefly, then turned and walked slowly away Stoner could not tell from this distance, but he guessed there were tears in her my.funambol.com eyes Stoner's train would not leave for Marseilles for another fifteen minutes It was one of the new electric specials, gleaming silver my.funambol.com as it stood waiting on its track, powered by the cheap electricity generated by the new fusion power plants A gift from the stars, Stoner mused my.funambol.com A gift of the stars in the heart of each fusion reactor is an incandescent plasma hotter than the core of the sun, he knew my.funambol.com And I helped to bring this to Earth, he thought I did But which me9 The man who was bom on this world, or my.funambol.com the alien within me He blinked his eyes, and the scene before him seemed to shift, change focus The people crowding the tram station my.funambol.com were still there, the trains lay stretched along the tracks, the noise and muted light slanting through the rain-spattered glass roof did my.funambol.com not change But now it seemed as if he were examining an exhibit in a museum, observing a strange tribal ntual Far back in my.funambol.com the recesses of his memory, Stoner recalled once as a teenager peering into a microscope for the first time and discovering the my.funambol.com teeming world of living creatures that bustled and scurried within a drop of water He watched the humans bustling and scurrying through the train station, hyperactive my.funambol.com monkeys jabbering away their lives, not a shred of dignity about them, living on their emotions, letting their glands and their mammalian brains dictate the my.funambol.com ordinary moments of their existences It's not fair to think of us that way, said one part of his mind But that's my.funambol.com the way you are, replied another voice within him You have the power of abstract thought, the capability of comprehending the universe--yet you behave my.funambol.com like the monkeys in the forests Stoner shook his head, as if to drive the alien voice out of his thoughts It went silent, but he my.funambol.com could feel its presence inside his skull, watching, observing, analyzing There was no hint of censure in the voice, no anger or disappointment my.funambol.com with the human condition No pity, either Nothing but precise objective measurement Then his eye caught a scene below him, one individual encounter out my.funambol.com of the hundreds happening simultaneously in the tumult of the busy station A woman with three young children and as many pieces my.funambol.com of odd-sized luggage--plus a heavy pack strapped to her back--was trying to take a table among those spread out on the floor of the station my.funambol.com at the foot of the staircase She was wrapped in a shabby overcoat that was much too big for her and had my.funambol.com a fringed shawl over her head The children were bundled in old, stiff, quilted winter coats, to Stoner they looked almost like miniature astronauts in my.funambol.com space suits that had been pressurized to the point where they could hardly bend their arms The waiter was yelling at her my.funambol.com in French and waving his arms at her She obviously could not understand him The children were very young, the smallest of them barely a toddler my.funambol.com They looked frightened and about to cry On an impulse, Stoner humed down the stairs toward them These tables are for serving my.funambol.com cocktails only, the waiter was insisting For dinner you must go upstairs, into the restaurant.
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Harry had tried hard to imagine Brenda Cowell doing that to him, but the picture just wouldn't develop in his mind. It was too alien. This time it was very different.