Gateway by Sharon Shinn

probably still be here, but she might be busy. If she’s got something else to do, I’ll come to the river.”
    “Don’t miss work because of me,” Daiyu said.
    He smiled. “It’s all right. I can work in the river any day, but you won’t be here very long.”
    She laughed, but the sound was a little rueful. “Well, Idon’t think I will be,” she said. “I suppose you never know.”

SIX
    ONCE THEY LEFT Gabe behind, Kalen showed Daiyu around the shops that clustered on the streets a little west of the river. She figured they were roughly in the area where Isabel’s office was located in St. Louis, but how different the cities!
    Where downtown St. Louis had a diverse but orderly collection of office buildings lining the parallel streets, the central district of Shenglang was built around winding avenues that spilled into circular drives and meandering boulevards. The small building swere all crammed together like parade watchers determined to be at the very front. The streets were noisy and crowded, trolleys jostling for space with vehicles that looked like fancy Model T’s and those contraptions that seemed to combine bicycles and carts. The sidewalks were thronged with people, overwhelmingly Han with cangbai and heiren individuals mixed in. Almost everyone, male and female, wore outfits similar to Daiyu’s—wide-legged black trousers and brightly colored tops.
    “I can’t believe that the clothes I picked out yesterday when I was still on Earth turned out to be perfect for wearing on Jia,” Daiyu said.
    Kalen smiled. “Somehow you knew you were coming here.”
    “Somehow I don’t think so,” she retorted.
    When she was thirsty, Kalen bought her a bottle of some sweet-flavored juice that tasted like apples and cinnamon and ginger ale. “Ice costs more than the juice does,” he told her. “We’ll have to drink it warm.”
    Shepracticallygulpedhersdownanyway.“Idon’tcare,”she said. “I love it.”
    By this time they had wandered to a street that was wider and straighter than most of the rest, and both the foot traffic and vehicular traffic were heavier. Twice, Daiyu and Kalen got separated when careless pedestrians pushed between them, and the secondtime, Daiyu felt a surge of panic as strong as the one she’d felt when she first arrived. She looked around wildly for Kalen.
    He was right behind her. “I’m here,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder.
    She reached up to take his hand in hers, and he moved around so they were side by side. “Stay close,” she said. “I don’t want to get lost.”
    “Don’t worry. I’m not planning to lose you.”
    He looked like he was going to add something else, but then a low murmur from down the street caught his attention. He shaded his eyes to look in the direction of the noise, which was building to a muffled roar.
    “That’s Chenglei’s car,” Kalen said. “He’s going to pass right by us. You want to see him?”
    “Chenglei?” Daiyu exclaimed. “Of course!”
    Still holding hands, and trying to be courteous about it, they pushed through the pedestrians to the edge of the sidewalk so they could get a good look. Daiyu glanced at the people nearby, trying to gauge their mood. Most of them looked pretty excited at the thought of glimpsing the prime minister. As soon as the black car pulled into sight, people started murmuring and clapping their hands. A woman bent down to her little girl and pointed at Chenglei. The applause grew louder as the car drew closer.
    And then Chenglei was passing in front of them, sitting on a high seat in the back of what looked like a cross between a convertible hearse and a horse carriage with no horses. Daiyu stared, absorbing as many details as she could. Yes, his features were definitely Chinese, but his pale skin betrayed his Caucasian heritage and, even sitting down, he appeared to be taller than most of the Asians she knew. He was a handsome man, with broad cheekbones and heavy eyebrows that drew