Sprinkled across the black waters below were at least a hundred small boats set out to greet the , their navigation lights like shifting stars. Among them loomed a glittering cruise liner, her fog horn bellowing in the night. The low groan grew into a chorus as the other great ships in the harbor joined in.
Perched on Volger's desk, Bovril attempted to imitate the horns, but wound up sounding like a badly blown tuba.
Alek smiled. "But they're already singing our praises!"
"They are Americans," Volger said. "They toot their horns for anything.
Perched on Volger's desk, Bovril attempted to imitate the horns, but wound up sounding like a badly blown tuba.
Alek smiled. "But they're already singing our praises!"
"They are Americans," Volger said. "They toot their horns for anything.
( Scott Westerfeld )
[ Goliath ]
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