Inside, the reception swirled and circulated and networked and did all the things that these events did. Expressions, cultural behaviours, so many things. “Yes, a good night for it,” he said.Ī good night for what? Often, these little expressions eluded Bosch. The smooth, dark-haired human leaned his head back and looked up at the stars. As well as it could be, he thought, but Davy seemed satisfied. I think it’s going well, don’t you?” Bosch tapped at the pad once. Davy craned over Bosch’s shoulder to read, then glanced down at the still-smouldering cigarette end lying on the steps below. Davy nodded and waited while Bosch withdrew his pad from inside his clothes, slipped the stylus from the carry case and tapped at the screen. Quickly, he followed it with a series of signs using his three long fingers. He whistled once and snapped his mouth, forgetting for a moment for the hundredth time that Davy could not understand. “Ambassador Bosch, come to escape the crowd?” It was Davy, his shadow, his cultural liaison, assigned to keep him on the straight and narrow.īosch turned his head to make eye contact. Smoking, and alcohol, and sex - particularly sex the examples went on and on. It was less compulsion than convenient subterfuge, but they weren’t to know that. It showed them he had his personal weakness.Ĭompelling.
There was no risk for Bosch, but the humans seemed to like the fact that he had adopted one of their vices. It was funny how compelling these human habits could be, even the ones they frowned upon. He took one last drag at the cigarette, then flicked it out in a wide arc to scatter sparks against the broad stone steps. He’d tried to mimic the gesture often enough. If his hard-boned mouth had been capable of smiling, it would have. The Garden of Earthly Delights By Jay Caselbergīosch drew deeply on his cigarette and exhaled slowly, watching the smoke paint clouds of tissue paper across the chill moon.
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