Possible Tomorrows
Page 23
“Don’t listen,” said the Ribboneer and, bending his broad, thin body, he sprang to the translator, shook it and banged with his ribbons until the machine was silent “You don’t have to tell anyone,” crackled Taphetta. “Don’t worry about me—I won’t repeat it” He looked around at the faces. “But I can see that you will report to everyone exactly what you found. That pride you’ve developed—you’ll need it” Taphetta sat on top of the machine, looking like nothing so much as a huge fancy bow on a gift-wrapped package.
They noted the resemblance vaguely. But each of them knew that as a member of the most numerous race in the Milky way, no longer feared for their mysterious qualities—despised, instead—wherever they went, there would never be any gifts for them—for any man.