Tom Paine Maru - Special Author's Edition - Plot & Excerpts
I had drifted through all that had happened so far rather numbly. Matter-of-factly. Now, reality was catching up, giving everything that occurred at that table a dreamlike quality. It all required effort, concentration, to focus on any given object, or any specific moment in time. Conversation was lapping around me like that stream on Sca, words, phrases, sentences making no more sense than its babbling waters. Even my palate was overwhelmed. So many new things, so much of it. If these people were nothing else, they were fabulously rich. This holiday feast was nothing more to them, I realized somewhere along the line, than a hearty farmhand’s supper. At home, for example, custom reserves milk for babies or toothless ancients. These people fairly swam in the stuff. Having tried coffee without satisfaction, I somewhat diffidently asked them whether they might ever have heard of something called tea. They answered me with a list of thirty or forty different varieties, enumerated on a ColorCom screen that somehow oozed out of the table’s surface.
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