Øyvind’s notions

Whan he’s alaen,

the young eens gaen

or no assigned,

he taks a key

tae a private store

at’s pangit wi maet.

The day, he curses:

The maet’s green.

Øyvind sceups

the protein ashets

intae the chemiecal

reclamaetor,

pernickety, dights

wi sterile pads

tae stairt again.

The maet smoothy’s

against the chance

o contamienaetion

or ony gokkan

o his notions.

Orcadia’s maet

is weel-trusted:

why pret wi that?

The future’s coman.

He’s gotten somtheen

new – whan

the mix is right.

He disno think

tae chaenge the warld,

jeust waants tae plaese

his awn tongue.

He sets tae blendan

anither batch.

Øyvind’s ideaexperimentinventions

When he’s alone, the young ones gone or not assigned,

he takes a key to a private store that’s fullbursting with foodmeat.

Today, he curses: the foodmeat is green. Øyvind scoops

the protein serving dishes into the chemical reclamator,

precisefussy, cleanwipes with sterile pads to start again.

The foodmeat hidey-hole is against the chancerisk of contamination

or any mockjokepranking at his ideaexperimentinventions. Orcadia’s maet

is well-trusted: why tamperplay with that? The future’s coming.

He has something new – when the mix is right.

He doesn’t think about changing the world, just wantneeds to please

his own tongue. He starts to blend another batch.

Astrid lairns Darling a new dance

Astrid kent this steps afore sheu coud spaek

(sheu wis a backerly spaeker): her mither held her

in fierdy airms an birled her roon an roon

the center o the Haa wi couples hurlan by.

Noo Astrid’s haadan Darling wi siclike a grip

an coonts the dance’s steps as meusic fills

the teum Ting Haa. Thir gotten a len

o twatree oor tae mak the visietor raedy.

Darling’s laaghan. This dances is stootly ither

as whit she kens fae Mars. Thir no the perjink,

jenteel traed, traety an espionage

o her faithers’ Chryse corporate functions. Thir no

the sensory-seutid low-gravity raves

apae Olympus Mons, cuithins will-willan

wi meusic in thir helmets, naeraboots

unteddert fae the reid an hirsty grund.

Sheu’s lairnan noo tae mov her feet faaster,

wi aese an virr, an catchan noo the guff

o Astrid’s sweit, an her awn. Turn, sheu thinks,

one-and-two-and-clap. “That’s hid. No bad.”

Astrid teaches Darling a new dance

Astrid knew these steps before she could speak (she was a lateslow speaker: her mother held her in strongbriskworthy arms and whirlrushspindanced her round and round the centre of the Hall, couples speedthrowrolldriving by.

Now Astrid holds Darling with the same grip and counts the dance’s steps as music fills the emptyhungry Council Hall. They’ve borrowed a few hours to make the visitor ready.

Darling’s laughing. These dances are verystoutly different from what she knows from Mars. They’re not the primprecise and genteel trade, treaties and espionage of her fathers’ Chryse corporate functions, nor