
"Good news"
   
Copyright 1989 by
Peter N. Glaskowsky

As the door swung shut behind me, I patted at my pants pocket 
to make sure I had my keys. I realized they weren't there just as 
the door clicked shut.
   "You idiot," I grumbled to myself. I wasn't too concerned; 
I'd done this several times before, and the apartment manager 
always just gave me the master key so I could let myself back in.
   I went down to the mail boxes and extracted the thick wad of 
bills, magazines, and product literature which clogged my box. 
Another normal day's mail. I got caught up in flipping through the 
stack, and forgot all about forgetting my keys. I went back up the 
stairs to my door before remembering.
   I dropped my mail on the floor and went back downstairs. 
There was a note on the manager's door saying he'd be back in 
about half an hour. Didn't say half an hour from when, though.

Press [ENTER] to continue; N for nonstop; or K for main menu: 
   Well, I wasn't going to give up. I'd left the patio door 
open. True, I lived on the third floor, but it looked like an 
easier climb than some of the rocks I'd been on.
   I went outside, and around back to where the patio decks were 
stacked up. Surveying the wall of the building as though it was a 
cliff, I selected a route and began my ascent.
   I would have made it, too, if it hadn't been for a weak bit 
of trim on the second floor. It began to make alarming cracking 
sounds, and I grabbed for the adjacent patio railing just as it 
gave way. I swung for a moment before letting go, falling to the 
ground below.
   I rolled as I hit, and came to rest in a sitting position, 
looking up at the building. My downstairs neighbor was leaning 
against the railing from which I'd just fallen. He was looking at 
me with a mixture of curiosity, concern and amusement on his 
face.
   I admit, I'd been looking for an excuse to introduce myself. 
He was a second-generation recom, one of the sons and daughters of 
the brave military pilots who'd saved civilization during the Last 
War. I suppose we all idolized them for their strength, speed, and 
intelligence. I remember reading about the War all through school. 
The books said that recoms had been created to fly the turn-of-
the-century jets when they got too hot for human pilots. The fact 
that recoms had originally been slaves, pressed into service 
against their will, just reinforced the civics-class lessons on 
how corrupt the old regime had been.
   It also made it all the more remarkable that those same 
recoms had fought so fiercely in defense of this country. They'd 
earned their freedom, and their children grew up proud and 
independent.
   Somehow I'd hoped for a more dignified way to meet him.
   "Ah, hi," I essayed, waving at the broken trim strip. "Just 
checking for termites."Š   "Find any?"
   "I forgot to check."
   He laughed, giving me a look at his sharp white teeth. "Looks 
okay to me," he replied, after making a show of studying the 
broken section.
   "Great," I said. "Sorry about that. I locked myself out, and 
I didn't want to wait for the manager to get back."
   "Come on up, then, I'll let you in," he chirruped. Without 
waiting for a response, he leaped up onto his railing, then spun 
around and jumped up and backwards, away from the building. He 
jackknifed on the way up, reaching forward to grab the railing on 
my patio, and vaulted over to land out of sight.
   I was impressed, no less so because he was a recom. Reading 
about them in a book was one thing, but seeing is believing.
   I got to my feet quickly, and ran up the stairs. My door was 
already open. I picked up my mail, and went inside. He was looking 
at the bookshelves in the living room.
   I stuck out my hand and introduced myself. "Thanks. My name 
is Mac... Mac Gentry."
   "Call me Tell," he replied. His grip was warm and firm, and I 
held on just a little longer than necessary, but I didn't think he 
noticed.
   I went over to drop the mail on the small desk in the corner 
by the kitchen door. "Can I get you a drink?" I asked.
   "Got any beer?"
   "Sure do," I said, moving into the kitchen. I came back out 
with two bottles. He was looking over my library again. I handed 
him his beer, and sat on the back of the couch.
   "Porto Alegre?" he asked, reading the label.
   "Yeah, it's Brazilian. I got it a couple weeks ago when I was 
down there."
   "Business trip? You're an engineer, right?"
   "Uh-huh. Rio Supercomputers. I work for Rio N.A. in Long 
Beach."
   "I could tell from your books here. What do you work on?"
   "Product acceptance, compatibility, that sort of thing. 
Mostly on the F/X series."
   He looked kind of thoughtful, then ran a long fingernail 
along the line of books dealing with optical computers and 
communications. "Have you worked with that Devtech fiber optic 
network?"
   My pained expression was all the answer he needed. As he 
laughed, I shook my head sorrowfully. "Please don't remind me. 
That's all I've worked on for two years, trying to fix Devnet. 
Devtech has no idea what they're doing, and it seems like I spend 
half my time telling my management that we're wasting our time 
helping them. Every time I give a presentation to the networking 
group in Japan or the corporate people in Brazil, they tell me 
to just keep trying." I sighed. "At least it pays well."
   "I hope you like to travel."
   "Sure, but with all the money they've spent on semi-ballistic 
tickets on the LA-Rio and LA-Tokyo runs, they could have bought me 
one of the darn rockets by now."
   He'd been nodding. "You're right about Devtech. The guys 
working on that really don't have a clue. We've been hearing about Šall the problems."
   I raised an eyebrow. "What's this 'we' stuff?"
   "I'm a systems engineer at Devtech," he said, with a smile.
   I grimaced again. "Uh, sorry, no offense."
   "Hey, no fur off my nose. I work with NCT 'frames. Devnet 
handles those okay. It's just those F/X monsters which are too 
fast for it. I worked with Rio Series F machines in school, 
they're good units."
   "Too good for Devnet, that's for sure. I just wish I could 
get Devtech to face facts. Rio isn't going to develop any new 
hardware. All we have now is XNA, which isn't very efficient, but 
it works okay. Devnet would be a big improvement, if Devtech would 
develop a new interface, but they don't want to admit they can't 
handle the speed with the stuff they use everywhere else."
   "That's the problem, all right." He turned back to the 
shelves again, studying titles. It gave me a chance to look at 
him. I couldn't figure the genetic mix, but then, you never really 
could. They were all different. Some looked more like felines, or 
canines, or whatever, but most of them were pretty generic. His 
fur was a glossy dark brown, lighter in front, maybe a little 
shorter than usual.
   He was about my height, but his legs were longer than mine. 
His tail dropped almost all the way to the floor, and swept back 
and forth hypnotically. He wasn't wearing much, just a pair of 
jogging shorts like some I had, except his had a cutout in the 
back for his tail, closed at the top with a magnetic clasp. He 
filled them well; I could see muscles flexing through the sheer 
fabric.
   All in all, he was very attractive. I was afraid that my 
feelings would start to show if I just sat there looking, so I 
picked a new subject.
   "Tell's an unusual name. What's it from?"
   He looked at me, flashing another quick smile. "It's short 
for Teller, from Edward Teller, the physicist. My parents say I 
was conceived in Teller GEO. That's one of the command and control 
stations for the UN's space-based interceptor platforms."
   "What were your parents doing? Besides the obvious," I added, 
blushing.
   "They were UNSF military pilots. Still are."
   That made them the best of the best; of the three thousand 
recoms in the old US Navy and Air Force, only about two hundred 
were asked to stay on with the United Nations peacekeeping forces.
   "Neat. What do they fly?"
   "Noood to me."
   "Looks good to me, too." I rubbed my right shoulder; my arm 
was stiff from making notes. He reached over from where he was 
sitting, and pushed my hand away. He took over, smoothing the 
tension away.
   "Not used to writing so much, huh? I guess I monopolized the 
keyboard."
   I rolled my head around. "Oh, that's nice. No, that's okay, 
I've been meaning to get a second workstation in here anyway."
   He came and stood behind me, massaging my neck expertly. It 
felt great. As his hands moved down my back, I leaned forward, 
resting my forehead on folded arms.Š   I suppose I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I 
remember is being shaken gently.
   "Come on, sleepy, time to go to bed." I lifted my head, 
blinking, then got up. He led me into the bedroom, and sat me down 
on the edge of the bed without turning the light on.
   "Thanks," I mumbled sleepily. "Come by tomorrow, we'll work 
up a presentation."
   He yawned conspicuously. "Well, I'm pretty tired. Mind if I 
sleep here?"
   I thought about it for a moment, then started to get up. "You 
mean, on the couch? Um, okay... let me get you some sheets."
   He pushed me back down, and sat beside me. "No, I mean right 
here."
   He was sitting close enough that I could smell him... and 
suddenly I understood. If I could smell him, then he could smell 
me a hundred times as well. He turned me on, and he knew it. Did 
he really feel the same way about me?
   I looked at him, and in his eyes, I saw what I was looking 
for. Happily, I fell backwards, pulling him down on top of me. 
"Okay," I said, huskily. I hugged him tightly, and he squeezed 
back.
   He seemed to be shivering, but his fur was warm and dry. I 
stroked his back gently.
   "Hey, what's the matter?"
   "Nothing, really. I'm just so happy..."
   "Me too, Tell." I continued to stroke him, and he calmed 
down. I moved my hand to his side, where our bodies met, and he 
rolled slightly to let my hand move between us. I began to rub at 
the fabric of his jogging shorts. I admit, I was curious. I'd 
never seen a nude recom of either sex. I had no idea what was 
under there.
   "Mmm..." he sighed. "I thought you were tired?"
   "I'm never that tired," I said, as I released the tab over 
his tail, and slipped his shorts down off his hips. His penis was 
sheathed, covered in soft fur, like his scrotum. Once freed, his 
erection grew quickly. He wasn't very large, which struck me as 
unfair; presumably the designers could have given recoms just 
about any size penis, but I guess they had other things to 
consider. Large genitals would just get in the way of a G-suit.
   I grasped him, fingers sliding on his moist shaft, and he 
began to moan, moving his hips back and forth. His eyes were 
closed, his mouth was open, and his tail was thrashing from side 
to side. He was breathing rapidly, and it looked like he was 
already ready to come.
   "Tell, are you...?"
   "Yes," he said, urgently.
   I rolled him over on his back, and leaned over, taking him 
into my mouth. He gasped, and suddenly my mouth was filled with 
his semen. He pressed gently on the back of my head, and I moved 
my hand to his balls, squeezing lightly. His cock slid deeper into 
my mouth, and he cried out. His body shook for a few seconds, and 
then he subsided.
   His penis slid back into its sheath quickly. I stroked his 
sheath, smoothing the ruffled fur, kissed it gently, and then 
straightened up, lying alongside him, resting a hand on his chest, Šmy other arm under his neck. We snuggled close, looking deep into 
each other's eyes.
   "Thank you," he said softly. "I've never done this before. 
With anyone," he added, even more quietly.
   I was taken aback. He'd been so, well, forward... but what 
could I say? "Tell, I wouldn't have asked for this. At least, not 
so soon." I grinned. "But I'm glad I didn't have to. I think 
things are going to work out fine."
   "I'm sure they are," he replied. "But there's something we 
need to get straight."
   "Uh, what?" I asked, afraid of some misunderstanding.
   In response, he dropped his hand to my crotch, and squeezed. 
"This," he said, mouth open in a silent laugh.
   I gave a startled "yip!"-- just in the spirit of things, you 
know-- and grabbed him right back. We wrestled around on the bed 
for a few minutes, my clothes just sort of falling off my body. 
Soon our movements became more rhythmic, more deliberate. He was 
inexperienced, sure, but he wanted to please me, and he seemed to 
know what to do.
   He made me hard with his hands, and wet with his tongue. Then 
he rolled away from me, onto his stomach, and moved his tail to 
the side. He looked back over his shoulder. "Mount me," he said, 
almost moaning.
   "Yes..." I answered, so full of love for him I could hardly 
speak. I moved over him, wet his anus with my saliva, and pressed 
the tip of my penis against him. "Relax," I crooned, stroking the 
fur on his back, squeezing him around the base of his tail.
   He opened himself to me, and I slid inside slowly. His ass 
was tight and hot, and we both made little whimpering sounds as we 
began to move together.
   "You okay?" I asked.
   "Oh, yes, Mac," he breathed. "Don't hold back."
   He was so strong. I could see the muscles moving under his 
fur, and feel them under my hands. He was clutching the bedspread 
as tightly as I clutched his hips. Although we strained against 
each other, there was something light and effortless to our 
coupling, a sense of perfect freedom and mutual joy.
   As I watched him, I thought about how lucky we were to have 
each other, and that familiar and pleasant pressure began to rise 
within my crotch. He matched the increasing tempo of my thrusts, 
lifting his head, making the most marvelous purring sound. I 
wondered if it was deliberate.
   As my climax approached, I leaned forward, nuzzling the back 
of his neck, resting against him. My arms went around his chest,  
and I hugged him as I came.
   "Ohhh," I cried, and I held the full length of my penis 
inside him. He pushed back against me until I was done, then 
together we toppled over onto our sides, my arms still wrapped 
around him.
   "I love you, Tell," I said.
   "I love you too, Mac... oh!" My hand, moving slowly down his 
belly, had encountered the tip of his penis, again erect.
   "Gently, Tell... don't rush it, make it last," I whispered 
into his ear. I brushed it was, an out-of-place wet sensation on my thigh. Then the 
character of Tell's movements began to change, becoming more Šrhythmic. He was hard, pressing himself between my legs, making a 
growling sound... and then I felt his teeth on the back of my 
neck.
   "Ooh, Tell, is this how recoms do it?" I asked, half-joking.
   He didn't answer; he just growled louder, but I could tell 
somehow that he wasn't being entirely serious. With an exaggerated 
roughness, he grabbed my hips and lifted me into the air.
   I moaned loudly for effect, and then again, softly, as I felt 
his penis sliding up towards my ass. Then he paused.
   "Come on," I urged.
   "Uh, be right with you," he said, and leaned back to see what 
he was doing. Maybe it distracted him not to have a tail to aim 
for; I don't know.
   He got himself positioned, and leaned forward again, his 
chest warm and soft against my back. Smoothly, he pushed his glans 
into me. He gasped, gripped me tightly, and thrust firmly, 
entering me completely.
   Without pausing, he began thrusting himself against me, very 
quickly, very hard. After maybe a dozen strokes, he cried out, bit 
my neck again, and came.
   I reached back between my legs to squeeze his balls, and he 
made a high-pitched little sound and collapsed against me. I don't 
know if he passed out, or what, but it was a few minutes before he 
moved again. I just lay there quietly, enjoying the feel of him 
inside of me and on top of me, until his penis withdrew and 
resheathed itself.
   Finally he stirred, moving to rest beside me. I turned to 
look at him.
   "That was nice."
   "Mmm-hmm," he agreed. "Thanks."
   "Anytime, lover. Better yet, all the time."
   He smiled, and we held each other until we fell asleep.
   
It's a good thing Tell set his alarm clock, because I'd 
totally forgotten about going to work in the morning. As it was, I 
had to hurry to be on time. We kissed quickly, and I ran upstairs 
to get dressed.
   I did remember the card with the presentation, though, and 
after the regular Monday morning staff meeting, I took the group 
manager aside and told him our idea. He was very receptive, I 
suppose because the Devnet problem was as much his problem as 
mine. He got me an appointment with the Director of Product 
Planning for early that afternoon.
   I had some appointments and phone calls to return to people 
in our US networking department and at Devtech, but I put those on 
hold, and took an informal poll among my coworkers as to the 
prospects for the kind of solution we were planning to offer.
   All of them had worked on the problem at one time or another, 
and after two years, most of them were willing to listen to 
anything. The technical comments were in line with my own 
observations, which was reassuring, and nobody brought up any new 
problems.
   The afternoon meeting went very well. The director liked the 
video, and told me to send it down to his boss, the Senior 
Director of R&D, in Rio. Brazil had already gone home, but Japan Šwas just about to arrive on Tuesday morning, so I stayed late to 
talk with Dr. Nagura, the Director of Networking Systems out 
there. I'd been out to see him just a few weeks before. We had a 
good professional relationship, but that was about all. He was a 
very quiet man, and he commanded a great deal of respect, probably 
more than company policy required. While he never got excited 
about anything, he did pay close attention to the presentation, 
and asked all the right questions.
   He brought up one subject which I hadn't given enough thought 
to.
   "And, what if your design is a success?"
   "Sir?"
   "What will you do then?"
   "Well... I just assumed that Rio would buy it, and I'd come 
back to work. Or maybe it would be better if Devtech built it into 
their equipment."
   "No. You build it. Don't sell the design. Sell a product."
   I started to object, but the look on his face made me stop 
and think. Yes, it would make more sense. If we could buy 
Devtech's hardware, at the wafer level or as finished boards, we 
could build it into a plug-and-play system for the F/X.
   He continued. "And when you speak with Cruz, tell him you 
want to use the company's engineering facilities in Brazil. Ask 
him to set a fair price, but do not give him any control over your 
new company."
   That was another good idea. "Yes, sir. I will do that." I 
paused. "I think you are helping me more than you need to."
   "No, Mr. Gentry. We needed someone to do this. And there may 
be more opportunities for you in the future."
   "Thank you. I will think about this." We cleared, and I sat 
there thinking about it for a while. Whenever I talked with him, I 
ended up talking like him. It was pretty strange.
   All in all, it was a very busy day and a very promising 
start. When I got home, I went straight up to Tell's apartment. 
Rather than knocking, I tried the door; it was open, and I went 
right in. He was standing in the kitchen, cooking something. I 
tossed my mail on his coffee table, sat down on the couch, and 
kicked my feet up.
   "Hi, dear. I'm home," I called.
   He ran over and sat down on my lap, put his arms around my 
neck, and gave me a big kiss. "Hi," he said. "You could make a 
habit of that. If you want," he added, shyly.
   "I want," I sighed. We held each other for a while. My 
curiosity eventually overcame my reluctance to disturb the moment.
   "Tell? How'd it go today?"
   He slid off my lap onto the couch beside me. "Pretty good. My 
boss doesn't want me to quit, but he did go with me to see the 
Vice President of Engineering. The VP wasn't exactly thrilled to 
 for me on the 
Brazilian national airline. When they started boarding, we went on 
into the plane, and took our seats. Since first-class seats had 
windows-- expensive on a trans-atmospheric vehicle-- my preference 
was for the third-row left window seat; this was the first row 
with paired seating, and usually I wanted the adjacent seat so I 
could set down my Dynabook without having to drop the tray table. ŠNow, of course, I had something much nicer to put there.
   The stewardess came forward and took our drink orders. They 
had Porto Alegre beer, of course, and we each got a glass of that. 
We sat together, talking, while the coach-class passengers boarded 
through the mid-cabin hatch. Presently, they finished boarding, 
and I realized we were still alone in the first-class cabin. As we 
started taxiing out, the screen on the forward bulkhead began 
showing the standard wildly optimistic emergency procedures 
briefing, and the stewardess came forward to get our glasses.
   "Will you be needing anything else before we land?" she 
asked.
   "No, thank you," I answered.
   She checked to see that our seatbelts were buckled, then went 
aft, and closed the door.
   I turned towards Tell, and raised the armrest between us. We 
each put an arm around the other, and leaned together. I licked at 
his ear as I unbuckled our belts.
   "You know, she won't be back in here until we get there."
   "No, she won't, will she?" he said, wriggling in 
anticipation.
   I released the clasp on his pants, and started unbuttoning 
his shirt. "Do you suppose we can amuse ourselves?"
   He was already breathing hard. "Yes."
   As we reached the end of the runway, the PA asked us to 
prepare for acceleration. By the time we started rolling, Tell was 
fully erect, pink and glistening. I bent down and took him in my 
mouth, cupping his testicles in one hand, the other against the 
small of his back. He came just as we lifted off, his cries of 
pleasure drowned out by the howling of the powerful scramjets.
   I straightened up with some effort, against the gradually 
increasing acceleration which pushed me down and backwards. The 
forward screen displayed a G-meter in a corner of the view from 
the forward camera. It read 1.5G, and it was definitely going up. 
I knew from experience that it would peak at about 2.5G about ten 
minutes into the flight.
   Tell leaned against me, eyes half-closed, smiling. I put an 
arm around him and held him for a while, stroking his belly with 
my other hand as his tail flicked back and forth across my legs.
   Eventually, the acceleration made it uncomfortable to be 
turned sideways like that, so I released Tell and sat back in my 
seat. I figured he'd do the same... but instead, I felt his hands 
at my waist, releasing my own penis, which was already swollen and 
throbbing.
   I watched with some disbelief as he levered himself up out of 
his seat, and turned to kneel before me. The G-meter was at 1.9 
and still climbing. Against that force, Tell slowly leaned forward 
to lick me, his rough tongue making me twitch.
   I couldn't even bend my head down to watch him without 
straining, so I just relaxed, and let my head go back against the 
seat. Tell's mouth enveloped me, and he began to move his head up 
and down slowly, pressing with his hands against the seat behind 
me. It felt just incredible. I gripped his shoulders, and started 
making thrusting motions with my hips, but as the meter approached 
2.5G, I couldn't move much.
   My pleasure peaked with the pressure of acceleration, and as Šthe engines spooled down to about half a G, I cried out and shot 
my load into his throat. The rapid loss of weight brought me 
forward in my seat. I curled over Tell's head, crossing my arms 
over his shoulders.
   After a long moment, I shuddered and leaned back. Breathing 
hard, trying to catch my breath, I welcomed Tell into my arms as 
he sat back down.
   "Oh, wow," I said, panting. "That was more than I expected."
   "Did you enjoy it?" he asked.
   "Of course! Wasn't it obvious?" I grinned.
   He smiled back, smacking his lips loudly. "Yeah, but I wanted 
to hear you say it."
   "I loved it, Tell. I love you."
   "Same here, Mac."
   Some of the longer flights-- New York to Perth, or the 
occasional flight from L.A. to Madagascar-- remained at low gee 
long enough for the stewardesses to hand out quick drink orders, 
but this one basically just went up and right back down again. The 
stewardesses were around to handle minor emergencies, but I knew 
we wouldn't be bothered unless we called for help.
   It took us a few minutes to get our pants on, and we had a 
couple more minutes to enjoy the views through the forward camera, 
as displayed on the screen, and the windows in the cabin. We were 
up high enough to see stars and the curvature of the Earth, and we 
could see bits of Central and South America.
   The acceleration warning sounded again, and we had to 
sit down and prepare for the descent. The forces this time were 
more down and forward, so we both fastened our belts and just 
enjoyed the ride.
   We ended up making some wide sweeping turns as we approached 
the runway at Rio, probably to avoid some weather. It gave us a 
better look at the northwest part of Brazil, which was nice.
   The landing was perfect, and as we taxiied in to the gate, 
our stewardess opened the door and stuck her head inside.
   "How was the flight?"
   "Very nice, thanks," Tell replied, smiling politely.
   Although it was mid-morning when we left L.A., it was already 
evening in Rio de Janeiro. Rio SC maintained a bloc of apartments 
near their headquarters and engineering facility in Soleri II, and 
some of the apartments were set up like hotel rooms for visitors. 
We got our keys from the security guard downstairs, and we went on 
up. The company had arranged for two apartments, but I don't think 
it ever occurred to us to use them both.
   I got the same unit almost every time I was in Brazil, so it 
was practically like a home away from home. I showed Tell where 
everything was. There was a note on the phone from Francis Cruz; 
he offered to take us out to dinner at ten. It wasn't quite eight 
yet, so we decided to go walk around for a while.
   Soleri II is the smallest arcology in Brazil, but even so, 
it's plenty big enough to get lost in. 70 levels, each about 500 
meters in diameter: over 10 million square meters of floor space. 
Fifty thousand spacious apartments and hundreds of businesses, all 
within a few minutes walking or elevator-riding distance of each 
other.
   Tell had never been inside an arcology; there weren't many of Šthem in the United States, and he hadn't been abroad much. It was 
fun to play tour guide.
   The neatest part of the building was the mall, a half-
kilometer of three levels of shops, restaurants, and open park-
like spaces. We started north from the south end, and began 
picking up hangers-on almost immediately. By the time we reached 
the central plaza, there must have been twenty people following 
us. Well, following Tell, anyway.
   "I love a parade," I said, sarcastically.
   "Aww, it's okay," he said. "They're just curious."
   As we walked, I nly hard question came from Francis Cruz.
   "When can you deliver a finished product?"
   "Thirteen weeks." I said it firmly. Tell and I had talked it 
over, and we were sure we could do it in eight weeks. I put in a 
fudge factor on general principles. Either they'd buy it, or they 
wouldn't-- but with two years of almost no progress, I was sure 
three months would be acceptable. Evidently it was, since nobody 
voiced any objections.
   After the question and answer period, the managing partners 
and the others excused themselves, and left. That's another thing 
I liked about Rio's management style; they were leaving the 
decision up to Francis Cruz, since it was his department.
   He decided quickly. "I think it looks like something we can 
support," Cruz said. "When do you want to get started?"
   I answered for both of us. "Two weeks should be enough. Tell 
is going to arrange to get the technical specs from Devtech. We 
also need to clear things up at our current jobs, and take care of 
the paperwork for the new business."
   "I'll have the legal department in the Los Angeles office 
take care of that for you, if you'd prefer."
   "Oh, absolutely. I don't know much about it."
   "Fortunately, it should be simple enough. The United States 
is part of the American Common Market, so there won't be any 
import/export problems."
   "Good. Should we say two weeks from next Monday?"
   "Fine."
   We all stood and shook hands, and it was done. Although the 
business side of the visit was over, there was still some 
technical work to do. I spent the rest of the day with people 
from the design engineering department, scheduling access to their 
design support systems and production equipment. Tell went off 
with the company's programming gurus to get the kernel interface 
design rules and talk about the code he'd be adding.
   These were just design overviews, and by the end of the day, 
there wasn't much more for us to do. Tell came over to engineering 
just as I was finishing up, and we left.
   Since we didn't need to stay another day, I'd picked up 
tickets for the late SB flight that evening, but I didn't want to 
leave Brazil without celebrating a little.
   On an earlier visit, one of the network engineers had taken 
me to a small but excellent specialty restaurant in a suburban 
area near the city. I'd asked him if it was still open. He said it 
was, and gave me the phone number and directions for the metro.
   It was the sort of place where I knew Tell and I could both 
enjoy the food. We got there early, since we had to get back to Šthe arcology and pack before our flight.
   A waitress took our drink orders-- Porto Alegre, of course-- 
and I told Tell I'd already ordered dinner.
   "What're we getting?"
   "They have great steaks here, so that's what."
   "Oh, okay," he said, without much enthusiasm. "Anything 
else?"
   "Just the normal stuff. You can grab something back at the 
apartment if you need to."
   The food arrived promptly, and I watched as Tell took his 
first bite. He started chewing, then stopped, and started again. 
His eyes widened, and he had to swallow before he could speak.
   "Hey! This is steak!"
   "Right. It's a steak house. I ordered steak."
   "It's _real_ steak!"
   "Now do you think you'll still be hungry later?" I asked, 
grinning.
   "No! I didn't know they had this here," he said, as he 
started eating again. I wasn't sure if he'd keep using his knife 
and fork; it looked like he could save time if he just used his 
hands and teeth.
   "Well, they never did outlaw meat sales here, you know, just 
cattle ranching. The ranchers just started growing beef without 
leather around it, that's all."
   "Mmm-hmm," he mumbled.
   I wasn't wild about real steak myself; it was terribly 
expensive, and I thought the synthesized stuff was basically just 
as good. Tell certainly liked it, though.
   He finished the first steak in almost no time, and called the 
waitress over to order another. They had it waiting already, since 
I'd told them who my guest would be.
   That one lasted a little longer, but still he wanted another. 
The waitress said they'd have to cook it, and could he wait ten 
minutes? He said he could, but I wasn't sure.
   I ended up feeding him bits of mine while he waited, since I 
just couldn't resist the way he looked at it. I used my fingers, 
and I was glad we had a semi-private booth; he sucked the meat and 
juices off my fingers in a way which was purely sexual.
   By my count, he had about three pounds of steak in him when 
we left.
   "Better than bugs and worms and stuff, huh?" I asked, as we 
rode back to the hotel on the metro.
   "You bet!" he exclaimed, licking his lips. "It's still not my 
favorite form of protein, though."
   "You letch," I chided, patting his leg. "You'll have to wait 
for that, we've got to get to the airport."
   "I hope we're alone in first class again."
   "Me too."
   And we were.

