2.
 "Thanks," Suzen had breathlessly told Jamalandra, an avrigamerigan, who made a poof gesture—"Anytime, sweetie, anytime. By the way, I hear there is a fex for you at central."
"I'll get it later," Suzen said. She looked at the time. "Midafternoon."
"They are running on time," Jama said, pushing her colorful silk throw over one shoulder. "And so am I. Bye, dear, enjoy yourself."
Suzen watched as the full-figured avrigana walked away through the agoraphobically wide, light-filled hallways to take Suzen's place in Administration. It was the type of swap the company encouraged to give workers a sense of accomplishment and cross-training. Suzen watched as men in pillbox-hats pulled carts laden with goods from the old Earth, worth fortunes to the displaced settlers on a thousand worlds. Amid the bustle, she spied the great Donaldo Jay Boomfani, whom she recognized from a previous sales presentation. He was a big man, an idaloterran, with gleaming black hair and eyes, a complexion like creamed curry, and a smile that spoke at once of power, knowledge, and kindness.
She ran alongside to catch up. "Mr. Boomfani—."
"Donaldo Jay," he said, pleased at her youth and prettiness. He actually lived on a canal in Venice, knew the King of England, and grew tomatoes on a rooftop in San Francisco, so said the gossip holos she watched on days off. He'd been raised on L-5, not a mile from where her parents lived, and he still kept a tiny apartment there. "What can I do for you, my dear young lady?"
"I just wanted to speak with you for a minute. That's all I ask." She hoped he did not think her as foolish and breathless as she sounded in her own ears.
"Of course," he said. He smelled of fresh leather, for he wore high black boots, an ornate suit the color of milk chocolate with lots of fine gold filigree on the edges, and a floppy felt hat with red, white, and green plumes hanging over the back. His breath smelled of cigars and coffee, and his hands looked pink but strong. "What is your name, my child?"
"Suzen Thrush, Your Honor."
"Call me Donaldo Jay. What do you wish?"
She hid her hands in her skirt between pressed knees. "I come from L-5, Donaldo Jay, same as you and—" For a moment, she thought she was going to cry.
"I see," he said. "You are unhappy here."
She swallowed and nodded, with her yes inaudible. Then she felt his big, kind hand on her shoulder.
"You have a man?"
Yes.
"And children?" Each word, he drawled in that Venetian accent that made her think of narrow balconies, mandolins, and sunshine.
"Yes."
He sighed deeply. "Some things, Suzie, I see and I can only shake my head. I go to many worlds. Many young men and women—and old men and women—stop me in the hall just as you have. I wish there was something special I could tell you to make the sunshine rise in your eyes, but I just don't know a special answer."
"I know that," she said, relieved that he would even speak with her. "I was just hoping you could tell me what it's like now on L-5. Is it still the same? My parents are there."
He clasped his hands together in his lap and shrugged. "I guess it is the same. The little corridors, the green places that open suddenly and you see the sunlight from space. You have a beautiful world here, and I don't know if you would be any happier going back."
"I know." She picked at her nails. "Edddi—my husband—and I sometimes talk about it. He wants to stay here. He says I should try to get used to it. Maybe I will one day, huh?"
He gave her arm a final pat. "Maybe, Suzen. The answer is in your heart. I wish you the best. Now I must go."
"Thank you," she said.
"Is my pleasure. Next time I come, you say hello again. If you come to Earth, you come visit me in Venice, hokay?"
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