"Robyn Tallis - Giants of Elenna - Planet Builders" - читать интересную книгу автора (Tallis Robyn)

political allies — or enemies. When he used it on her it meant trouble.

"Come in, dear," he said. "Your mother and I have a surprise for you."

Distinctly apprehensive now, Philippa walked inside. Old habit straightened her back and smoothed her
face into an expres-sionlessness blank. Behind her, the friendly voice went on, "Did you know that this is
your birthday, by Standard count?"

"That might mean something if we were

living on Earth," Philippa replied. Good, her

voice sounded fairly calm.

In the "salon," which is what her parents insisted on calling their living room, despite the fact they were
now living in a round dome made of silana and not a twenty-room marble palace on Alphorion, Philippa's
mother greeted her words with a little trill of laughter. Scarier and scarier, Philippa thought.

"Isn't it funny to reflect on the odd customs we still cling to in the name of civilization?" her mother said
sweetly. "But then, why not? They make life so pleasant. Come and join us in a toast to your birthday,
dear. Another very old custom." Philippa saw her father open a slim bottle and pour out a golden liquid.
With a shock, she recognized it as one of the rare, expensive liqueurs he had ordered from Earth, which
were usually only brought out when her parents were stalking the deadliest of political adversaries.

He poured out three glasses, handed one to her and one to her mother, then saluted Philippa with a
graceful gesture and a smile. Philippa responded with a smile just as polite and just as false, and
cautiously sipped the liqueur. She braced herself for the fire on her tongue, and the harsh-to-strange
taste; she'd learned very young how to drink such things, and she'd always hated them.

"Exquisite," Mrs. Bidding said, sipping hers with eyes half closed. "I remember tasting one almost as pure
and, curiously enough, it was the year I turned seventeen. Not long after I was formally 'brought out' in
society."

"We served it at our engagement ball," her father said. "Midsummer's eve — remember how warm it
was?"

Philippa listened as she pretended to sip again. Reminders of Alphorion. Are they aimed at me?

"What do you think, dear?" her mother turned to her.

Philippa summoned up a bland smile and voice, "It's wonderful." If she said what she thought or did what
she'd like — which would be to dump the stuff out and march out the door — they would start on how
rotten her manners were and how it was her own fault she was no longer on Alphorion, being trained
with the planet's best and brightest young alpha-status aristocrats. Sit and smile until they say whatever it
is they've got in mind, she told herself.

"Of course, your experience of this particular blend cannot be wide," her father said instructively. "It's
important to be able to distinguish between the true blend and a syn-tho-blend."