now. It’s time to go outside. I want you to pull yourself together and walk outside with me. When we face these Colons, I want you to be somebody I can be proud of. You don’t want to show up badly in front of these people, do you?”
I shook my head.
“All right,” he said, and let go of me. “Pull yourself together.”
Keeping my head averted, I did my best to get a grip on myself. I straightened my blouse and hitched my shorts, and when I was ready, I faced around.
The ramp was down on the far side of the ship, and I could hear noise from outside. People shouting.
“Come along,” Daddy said and we walked across the center area. George was still standing there and I gave him a hostile glance as we passed, but he didn’t seem to notice. He fell in behind us.
We paused for a moment at the top of the ramp, and that seemed to be taken as a signal for a band to start playing and for people to yell even louder.
Chapter 6
THE HORSES HAD ALREADY BEEN LED OUTSIDE and were being held there by Mr. Tubman. Standing beside him was an officious-looking man in a tall hat in which was placed a great wilted white feather. At another time he might have been funny. There were two children with him, a boy and a girl, both somewhere near my age. We had set down in what must have been the main square of the town, and there were ranks of people yelling and staring up at us from either hand. It made me feel on display. The sky was low and gray above us, the yellow bricks of the square were wet and shiny, and there was a warm, damp breeze. The band was directly in front of us, all of the band members dressed in dark green uniforms. They played enthusiastically—loudly, that is—but badly.
I was looking all around at this, but Daddy took my arm and said, “Come on. You can gawk later.”
We started down the ramp and all the people in the square increased the volume of their noise. I didn’t like it and started to feel very nervous. I wouldn’t like being yelled at by large numbers of people in any case, but this was all the more discomfiting because I couldn’t tell from the noise whether they were friendly or not. Whatever tune the band was playing became indistinguishable and simply added a small contribution to the general hubbub.
Daddy and the officious-looking man shook hands. Daddy said, “Mr. Gennaro, it’s good to see you again.”
The man said, “You timed things well, Mr. Havero. The rain stopped here less than an hour ago, though I won’t guarantee that it will stay stopped.”
Daddy nudged me forward. “This is my daughter, Mia. I believe you’ve already met Mr. Tubman and George Fuhonin, my pilot.” As I shook hands, I took a good look at him. He had an eager-to-please manner that I didn’t know how to take, and I couldn’t get any clue from Daddy’s face or tone.
Gennaro indicated the boy and the girl with him. “These are my children, Ralph and Helga. When you said you were bringing your daughter, I thought she might like to meet some children of her own age.” He turned on a smile and then turned it off again.
The boy had dirty-blond hair. He was just a shade taller than I, but much more squarely built. The girl was also squarely built, and about my size. They both said hello, but not in an overwhelmingly friendly way.
I said hello just as cautiously myself.
“That was very thoughtful,” Daddy said to Mr. Gennaro.
The man said, “Glad to do it. Glad to do it. Anything to keep up goodwill. Ha, ha.”
The people and the band continued to make noise. “Shall we be going?” Daddy said.
“Oh, yes,” Mr. Gennaro said. “Children, mind your manners.”
Daddy didn’t say anything to me, but simply gave me a sharp look. Mr. Gennaro mounted his horse, and Daddy and Mr. Tubman swung up on theirs. The band, still playing, backed off enough for them to pass through, and they clattered off and out of the square. The band followed after, still playing loud and tinnily, and a good portion of the crowd trailed them.
I said, “Why is everybody following after Daddy?”
“Your father is a celebrity,” George Fuhonin said in an ironic rumble, standing just behind me.
I hadn’t been speaking to him, just voicing my thoughts,