| OCR Text |
Show looked exceedingly groggy. Phrapp leaned back against the bulkhead, the unconscious maiden heavy in his arms. The mutter from the passengers behind them had advanced a decibel and was full of question marks. The stewards looked at each other and lifted their shoulders in a conspicuous show of resignation. They let the man pass. Phrapp tightened his grip on the maiden, then negotiated the ramp with great caution. Reaching the litter, he laid his burden down, arranging her head carefully on the small pillow. The litter immediately covered the maiden with a gossamer blanket-including, it must be noted, her head-and retracted into the ambulance. Then the ambulance glided away. So did Phrapp. Alarmed, the female steward hurried down the ramp in pursuit, DictaScribe in hand. "I must have thy name, pray!" she cried after him. "This be altogether contrary. . . ! " Phrapp continued walking away from her, long legs bent at the knees, cloak billowing out behind him, untidy hair tossed by the wind. Then he turned into the arched and spired rose stone terminal cathedral and lost her completely. Over the sound system in the vaulted nave came the musical greeting, "Welcome to beautiful BauerWorlde, land of tran-quil-i-ty-" The rendition was accompanied by recorders, tamborines, lutes, and shawms-the favored instruments of BauerWorlde-with an occasional blast from the less favored medieval trumpet. "Beauty, aye," muttered Phrapp, the trumpet sorely assaulting his ears which were already ringing with SpaceAche. He turned a corner and headed toward the rose window of the entrance porch. "But tranquility," he 12 |
