CONDEMNED TO THE FUTURE

Chapter 26.

The giant bird was definitely coming directly at him. He'd noticed it while it still soared near the rim's upcurving ceiling several hundred meters on ahead. It was huge, bright green, and stroked quite slowly in the lower pull nearer the wheel-ship's center of rotation.

  The idea of hiding only flicked briefly; he'd been spotted long before. Then the creature was overhead, locking wide wings and starting to glide in a spiral down to him. If his hunger hadn't been dimming his senses, he might sooner have recognized it was Thursday in a wingpack.

The grin was unstoppable. Then he was amazed that the native handled the pack so well, as he swooped above, twisted his body like a gamboling seal to reverse turn, and backflapped to come to a smooth standup landing across the rim creek from him in this park section. At once Georg saw the change.

  Thursday was no longer awed. By anything here. The old skeptic was back, and he approved. He had much to discuss; mostly the truth. The native slapped the belly buckle on the pack harness and dumped it to the sod.

  "You look like a pro! How'd you learn so fast?"

The dark eyes stared a moment. "I found this thing in a room with many others three days ago and...practiced."

"Three days!"

  That long in A.H.'s Total Projection? At first it seemed impossible, since such replay could take place at a far faster rate than realtime. For some reason, his host had chosen to pace it much more slowly, or to suspend Georg's consciousness in several breaks between visions. Such skill!

He rubbed his palm over his empty belly. "No wonder I'm so damned hungry." He'd already resorted to gulping a couple quarts from the rim stream when he couldn't find any other water...and taken a very long dark piss.

Thursday understood. "I can show you where there's food."

    He just nodded and followed the bobbing native back the way he'd flown. As they left the park section, the sod became solid pavement again, the structures on both sides resembling giant red toadstools of various heights. If dormers, they must be for some other aliens found during Wind's travels. But again there was no activity, no beings in sight; and although clean and undamaged it all gave the heavy sense of antiquity.

 Then the native turned right and entered a long tunnel that pierced the hillside slope to stay level with the rim floor. About ten meters in, the darkness was suddenly dispelled by white light springing from the walls. They stood in a big dining area. There were tables and chairs, as well as platforms and split cushioned saddles meant for creatures other than humanoid or hhronkoid. Thursday went to a panel outlined in green at the back wall.

  "Put your hand," he pointed at the open box at the panel's base.

  Georg felt a tingle in his palm, then the screen glowed. He started to pull his hand off, but Thursday grunted negatively. When the holoimages began pulsing into and out of being, he burst out laughing. Somehow each food displayed was completely sensible to him! He could taste and smell it, and even knew what it felt like in the mouth. Direct organoleptic linkage! There was no logical order in food type he could discern, indeed most of the items were unrecognizable. And he was quickly becoming sensory overloaded. It was, not surpisingly, a true appetite suppressant; the edge was gone at once from his hunger.

"You ask for any foods you want."

He looked at the native, feeling interrupted but relieved. "I want breakfast. Pancakes with maple syrup, pork sausage, cantelope diced, black coffee...for a human."