Landau frowned in concentration for a moment. "I suppose so."
"But I feel okay now."
"You have been sedated and resting in the most comfort- able environment the United Nations could provide. The air in this room is mixed from bottled gases; you are not breathing city air at all, not even filtered city air."
Kinsman laughed as the nurses lifted his arms and clamped the braces on them. "I remember when New Yorkers used to boast that they didn't trust air they couldn't see."
Landau found it totally unfunny.
With the exoskeleton fully hooked up to him. Kinsman got to his feet and tried a few experimental steps across the 530 wide carpeted room. Just like the Tin Woodman. Hope somebody remembered to bring the oilcan.
Landau waved the nurses from the room. Within a few moments a pair of liveried waiters wheeled in breakfast. And right behind them came Hugh Harriman.
"Well!" he snapped with mock indignation. "Sleeping Beauty's finally up and on the job, eh?"
"I think 1 can make it through until naptime," Kinsman said.
"Good." Harriman waited until the waiters had set up the breakfast table and taken the food from the hot and cold sections beneath the white-clothed rolling table. Finally the table was neatly arranged with a variety of dishes and they left as silently as they had come.
Harriman pulled up a chair. "Bagels and lox! That's a really low blow. They've loaded this table with foods we can't get in Selene."
Kinsman found that his contour chair had a series of toggle switches set into its right arm. The first one he tried adjusted the back. The second rolled the chair forward. Like an airplane's joystick, he thought. He deftly maneuvered the chair up to the table.
Landau pulled his chair to the table, looked everything over, and murmured, "Caviar."
"Don't worry," Kinsman said. "We'll be getting this kind of stuff in trade goods within a few months."
"And what'll we trade them back?" Harriman groused. "Oxygen?"
Kinsman nodded unconsciously, and the whir of electric servomotors startled him. "Oxygen's already an important export item for the factories in near-Earth orbit, Hugh. If things go our way, those factories will start manufacturing peacetime goods. They'll need lunar aluminum, silicon, other raw materials from us. We also have tourist accommodations and research facilities. We've got lots of things for trade."
"I still think it's damned shitty of them to lay all these goodies in front of us," Harriman muttered.
Landau reached for the tea. "They are probably trying to be very polite to us."
"Or the fucking American and Russian security people are bribing the UN to make us homesick." 531
"All right," Kinsman said. "Let's get down to work. What did I miss yesterday?"
